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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 2 days ago

Note

ive been thinking about your norm head cannons post ever since i first saw it. would you be so kind as to possibly gift a lad a longer post about norm w a plus/midsize partner 🛐 ofc you don't have to.

Shoot The Moon

Pairing: Norm MacLean x Plus/Midsize!Female Vault Dweller

Word Count: 30,213

Warnings: smut (18+), angst, pining, mild violence, discussion of arranged marriage, Norm MacLean's daddy issues, Hank MacLean is a piece of shit, neglectful parenting, love confessions, pregnancy talk, wet dreams, mild voyeurism, panty sniffing, masturbation (male), femdom, hand job, mentions of blow jobs, nipple play, cunnilingus, anilingus, hair pulling, scratching, praise kink, unprotected sex, unintentionally rough sex, mild cum play, creampie.

Notes: A hundred million thanks for the patience on this one, folks. It needed a little extra time to simmer, but I'm so happy with how it turned out. Honestly, this is one of my favorite things I've ever written. Can't apologize for the length; I know I originally described it as a "one-shot", but it's ended up more like "three one-shots crafted into a short story". It's a little slow burn in terms of the romance, but there's plenty of smut sprinkled throughout.

I guess you could technically consider this an AU or prequel work of sorts, as I've taken some liberties in establishing how Vault life works, etc. I hope y'all like it as much as I do! I'd love to write more for Norm in the future. His characterization took me a while to iron out, but I'm fond of my version of our petite heroine's even more petite brother.

Norman MacLean was painfully awoken by a throbbing headache as much as his usual alarm, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

It was an important day.

The entirety of Vault 33 had buzzed with excited energy for a full week now, an electricity that could be felt through the walls of his single's suite as he willed himself to rise from his warm bed. The lack of sunlight in the place he'd always called home made it incredibly easy to darken your room, which made getting decent quality sleep easier. However, it also made waking up in the morning a more significant chore than it needed to be, at least for the youngest member of the MacLean clan. His elder sister never seemed to have trouble getting herself out of bed in the mornings, but she never seemed to have trouble with a lot of a things that the smaller, younger man found himself struggling with.

The tile floor of the place was cold under his feet as he managed to rouse himself vertical, shocking him awake a few more degrees and sending him scrambling through his small dresser to yank out a clean Vault suit, along with a pair each of underwear and socks, which he yanked on as quickly as possible, nearly slipping and falling in his haste. He dragged out fastening his suit, yanking on and tying his boots after pulling them from their hiding place beneath his bed; he was in no hurry to report for duty as a member of the greeting committee.

Norm knew he wasn't greeting committee material; everyone else who would be in attendance knew it, as well, including his father, whose insistence was the only thing motivating him to be there in the first place. But he was the Overseer's son, a supposedly prominent member of their little ant colony, and people loved to talk, so here he was, forcing himself awake before he even had to report for work, all to welcome a bunch of people who wouldn't like him any more than the people he'd always lived around did. Fussing with his finicky hair in his bathroom mirror, fogged from the hot water in the basin beneath, he fretted over a toothpaste spot on his chest, hoping Betty or someone else wouldn't have a smart comment about it.

Moving into the small kitchen area to rummage for something to sate his early morning hunger, he moved up onto his tiptoes to grab a box of Sugar Bombs from the lowest shelf, easily jamming his fist into the box and eating a dry handful in silence. Checking the time on his Pip Boy, glowing at him from the kitchen table, he sighed as he clasped the thing in place around his forearm, casting one last glance around his place before heading out the door. His room was at the farthest end of the hall it sat in, somewhat isolated, so he had to give himself an extra minute or two to make it all the way downstairs to the place where you could access their sister Vaults.

He passed by the entrance to the kitchens as he wound his way down through the weaving corridors that made up Vault 33, a blast of warmth hitting him as someone exited and turned towards the dining hall, pushing a trolley stacked high with clean trays. A rather large part of him was grateful he no longer had to wake before the crack of dawn to drag himself into the oven-like cluster of rooms in order to wash mountains of dishes and vegetables, dice what felt like endless Cram, greasy and dense in his hands. The powdered egg and milk replacers also disgusted him to work with, but at least they had purpose, a key ingredient in almost anything people really enjoyed, baked goods especially. Besides, it wasn't nearly as bad as the InstaMash...he'd been neutral towards the potato flake slurry at best as a kid, but his time in the kitchen standing over giant, steaming pots of the stuff had made him truly hate it.

However, another, smaller part of him knew he disliked maintenance work just as much as he'd disliked working in the kitchen, just different aspects of it. The kitchen had been busy, gruelingly so on the wrong day, and everyone had always acted like he was in their way, but the work had been straightforward and regular.

Being switched into a maintenance position did allow him more freedom, true; he no longer even reported directly to anyone, simply worked, as one of several, through a provided list of tasks that never truly ended in order to keep the place clean and lit. However, much of the work was somewhat difficult for him, involved him climbing things he couldn't reach, struggling to complete tasks he wasn't quite made for.

At least no one was usually watching.

"Morning!" a cheery, familiar voice suddenly called from behind him.

"Morning." he replied, not looking over his shoulder, but pausing his steps just outside the entrance to the empty Overseer's office. His older sister trotted up alongside him enthusiastically, her high ponytail bouncing along with her steps.

"I won't ask if you're excited." she said facetiously.

"Well, I'm not not excited. I don't really care all that much. I just wish I didn't have to be there to greet them at the door. I don't have to work for, like, three more hours."

She chuckled at that as they descended a set of tightly wound steps, well beyond familiar with her brother's demeanor.

"Hopefully it won't take too long, then."

The two fell silent as they rounded the final corner, entering the small section of the end of the hall where the ad hoc welcome party had gathered: the Overseer, the members of the council, one or two older, more prominent citizens, and the MacLean children, all crammed together and ready to depart. Per usual, Norm was the only one who didn't seem explicitly enthusiastic, the space filled with early birds like his father and sister. The elder MacLean squeezed past Betty, who was deep in discussion with Woody about something unintelligible, and wrapped both of his children up into a quick hug.

"Good morning." he said. "Are we excited?"

"Of course." the siblings replied in unison, perfectly in sync, though one much more genuine than the other.

"Ooh, toothpaste." Hank sucked his teeth and gave the small white spot on Norm's chest a poke. "That's alright."

He immediately began wiping at the thing, trying his best to erase it further. Hank smiled in reply before turning to address the dozen or so other people milling around.

"Alright, everyone. We're about to make contact. Now, I know we all miss the folks we sent off last week, but let's keep room in our hearts to make new friends. I know things like this can be difficult sometimes, but they're all for the best. Please keep in mind that our new friends may be nervous to make such a big change. Be polite, be welcoming. Don't be nervous!"

There was a murmur of agreement from the small cluster of people before they all made their way deeper into the maintenance tunnels, funneling themselves into a thin line as they made their way closer to the antechamber where the Vaults connected. Lucy chatted excitedly with Betty and a few others, their voices echoing through the otherwise quiet corridor. As they descended a small flight of stairs, Woody accidentally bumped him, sending him stumbling precariously down the last step.

"Ah, sorry Norman. I didn't see you there." Woody said quietly, placing a quick hand on the smaller man's shoulder to help steady him.

"It's fine." he murmured back, righting himself to catch back up with the group.

They all convened in the boxy space, the only sound the hiss of some pipes as his father interacted with the control panel at the far end of the room. The indication light flipped to a bright green, and Hank resumed his place beside his children as they waited for the rather slow process to unfold. Something deep in Norm's chest was tight as the big, hermetically sealed door that separated Vault 33 from its attached counterparts let out a big sigh, rumbling and shifting as the mechanisms that held it taut against the concrete wall withdrew. He fidgeted with his hands in his place beside Lucy.

Slowly, painfully slowly, the larger cluster of people behind the door was revealed, staring back at them silently for a beat or two as the massive thing clunked its way into place.

"Welcome, everyone! Welcome!" the Overseer called, stepping forward to appraise the cluster of eyes staring back at him. An older woman, maybe a few years younger than Hank, stepped forward to the front, her face solemn, but not unkind. She introduced herself, but Norm failed to hear what she said, already turning his attention back to studying the cluster of vault-dwellers before him. He didn't see anything that caught his attention all that much, most of them too focused on the still-speaking pair to do anything interesting or revealing.

The group was largely young people, generally somewhere between sixteen and thirty if he had to guess. That wasn't surprising. That had been the deal, as he understood it; Vault 33 would send some of their glut of middle-aged men to the other Vault to help in beefing up their thinning security, and in exchange they would receive a number of younger people, mostly female, to beef up their thinning generational spread. Some of them clustered together, family members or already married couples, but around half the entire group seemed to be singles.

That'll be entertaining. he thought, watching as the unmarried members of the Vault council stared down their new compatriots.

However, when the older lady took a step back into her place with the crowd, she unveiled two younger women who he'd initially missed. The shorter of the pair cradled an open-top box of knickknacks in her arms, holding it tight to her chest anxiously, her dark hair tucked high and tight away from her face. She couldn't be more than seventeen or eighteen. Beside her, a taller woman, certainly not old enough to be her mother, but softly, wordlessly comforting her like one. He guessed an older sister, perhaps a cousin. Her face was hidden by the way her own hair hung loose in a dark curtain around it, but he was distracted for several long seconds by the obscured view of the rest of her. He wasn't the only one watching, though; there was a taller, broad man looming over her shoulder, but a few steps back; close enough to be familiar, but not close enough to be welcome, it seemed. Norm didn't have to look over to know that Lucy was likely staring at the guy as well.

The woman who'd stepped forward turned her head and muttered something to the two ladies. Maybe she was the mother.

"Well, I'd best let you all get settled in. It's a big day for everyone, a big day for our home! If anyone needs anything at all, you can ask any of the council members here, especially Betty. Everyone is excited to have you here, so don't hesitate." Hank said, gesturing to the older woman standing beside him. "You can also ask me, of course, or either of my children, Lucy and Norman."

Norm's eyes narrowed slightly at his given name, his best effort to not roll them skyward in front of everyone. He and his sister moved to stick to the wall as the group began to filter by, many of them greeting the two or shaking their hands as he tried his best to act enthused. The acting was a little less necessary when the woman who'd spoken made her way by, nodding politely to both he and his sister. Immediately, his eyes scanned the narrowing hall behind her to find her younger companions, and his heart sped up a bit when he found who he'd been looking for.

She had looked pretty, if mysteriously so, from a distance, but she was breathtaking up close. Younger than he'd initially thought, she didn't seem to be much older than Lucy, the girl beside her still fidgety and eyeing the floor as they walked along. The woman he was studying, however, lifted her head from her nervous companion as they passed by to smile kindly at he and Lucy, waving as they did. Her other hand rested comfortingly on the girl's arm; she stood head and shoulders over her, and thus over him. It took a great deal of effort to not let his gaze linger as she walked away.

Following shortly behind her was the tall guy who had been staring at her, still doing so as he went by, completely ignoring them as he did. The MacLean siblings exchanged a glance, but neither of them said anything as more people followed immediately behind.

For over an hour they were forced to hang around (though he doubted Lucy would see it that way), answering questions about facility locations, what sort of jobs were available, pointing people where they needed to go. He found the whole thing entirely draining, his energy generally uninviting; fortunately, his older sister was a nice balance to that, and drew people more towards herself. She knew he wouldn't be here if he'd had a choice.

Their presence also required participating in their father's anecdotes he saved for smaller groups of people, old jokes about Vault life and only-slightly-embarrassing family stories to endear people to him. To his credit, it worked like a charm. Fortunately, Lucy was front and center for these, and she was a natural in her role. She knew her lines like the back of her hand and her laughter was contagious, so she took the lead in being the poster child while Norm just sort of stood around in the background.

Eventually, most everyone had emptied out and they were able to begin the track back through the mildly claustrophobic pathways.

"I won't ask if you're excited." Norm teased as they made their way back towards 33 proper, a few stragglers exiting the tunnels ahead of them.

"Don't!" she scolded, but she smiled in a way that gave her away. She'd certainly had her eye on the tall guy who'd given them the cold shoulder, but he'd seen several guys among the crowd who fell right into her type, and he could feel the buzz coming off of her in waves as they slowly made their way back into the meeting hall.

For the last couple of years, his sister had had marriage pretty front and center on the brain. It made sense; she was social, loving, eager to show their father that she could be all the things that he wanted for her. She was far too good for any of the options she'd been presented with, however, and nothing had worked out for her thus far. Since they were children, Lucy had tried her best to be the perfect daughter, the perfect Vault girl, but at the end of the day, she asked too many questions, had too many opinions. The only person she'd ever even been close with was their cousin, and he knew personally that she rather regretted going down that particular road out of boredom.

He wasn't looking forward to having to hold Chet's hand through it when she finally did find someone.

Arranged marriages had once been a regular part of life in their trio of sister Vaults, families formed and fates decided based purely on numbers on a screen, predetermined factors that just-so-happened to line up. He understood the base logic behind the choice to set things up that way, the seemingly increased odds of successful reproduction between arranged partners desirable, especially in an endeavor held in such high esteem...if they were robots or livestock. For a project about preserving and reestablishing humanity on the surface, he felt there was a serious deficit of it in the way things worked sometimes.

Over recent generations, though, with the growing distance of time between them and the genesis of the Vault project, marrying for love had become much more common and accepted, to the point that arrangements were almost never even discussed anymore...that is, of course, unless you were an especially desirable (or undesirable) marriage candidate. Then, the old ways had a mysterious habit of re-materializing out of thin air. He found himself quite surprised that their father had never mentioned the idea of simply marrying Lucy to whoever fit her best, though, he also suspected that the match-ups they had on-hand were so undesirable that Hank had coordinated the entire personnel swap to "grease the wheels", so to speak.

But, of course, he'd never say out loud that he thought his father had brought in a whole new crop of young people just to help his sister find a husband.

The younger MacLean, on the other hand, secretly worried that he'd been placed into the latter category without his knowledge. His father spoke to Lucy about marriage often, discussing what sort of partner she should seek out for herself in order to have a successful family, describing the intricacies of marriage and mediating marital issues. He'd never mentioned it to Norm once, not really. For a long while, he'd chalked it up to his sister being the eldest, the first to "need" that sort of talk. However, as Norm crept into young adulthood, the subject was never really broached by his father. Increasingly, he felt his dad thought him incapable of getting someone to want to marry him, that being able to attract a long-term partner was just one of the many tools his son had missing from his belt.

Even more, he worried that his dad might be right.

"Well, I'm off. There's a leak somewhere that needs me, I'm sure." Lucy joked, interrupting his dour train of thought as they came to a stop at the intersection of a few walkways. "What're you up to today?"

"I'm supposed to keep around the dorms and stop them from being trashed by thirty-odd people moving in at once. So, naturally, I'm going to take a push broom through where all the new people are and be nosy."

His older sibling snorted, a typical response to his antics.

"Let me know if you find anything interesting." she replied before turning and making her way up the next flight of stairs, not leaving him any time to agree.

Norm kept his ungiven word, though, carefully noting anything that his older sister may have found interesting or prudent to know...chiefly, which of the young men she'd likely fancy were single and which of them had come already attached. He took his time sweeping through each hallway, making several rounds and gathering new information each time. Most of the apartment doors stood wide open, folks winding their way in and out of various rooms and making it somewhat difficult to determine who lived where. Many of his new neighbors seemed openly excited to be in their new home, but there was a palpable air of anxiety from many of them as the adrenaline began to wear off; he didn't judge them, as he figured he'd be more than a little nervous to be in their shoes.

As per usual, he disappeared effortlessly into the thrum of people carrying things, unpacking, exploring the facility, chatting all the while; not a single person acknowledged or spoke to him as he made his way back and forth along the winding corridors, not even the multiple Vault 33 natives he passed by who just so happened to be cutting through the area despite the fact that the dorms were quite out of the way. By the time he'd seen the fourth or fifth person, he rolled his eyes a bit; at least he wasn't being completely obvious.

Eventually, he noticed the older woman, whom he'd seen several times in various places, finally turn into a specific room instead of lingering outside observing, and after lagging behind for a moment he passed by the window, pleasantly surprised to find the curtains open as well. The younger girl was rifling through the cabinets in the kitchen area, everything about her reading much less tense than it had when he'd first seen her. Their guardian was out of view, but the bathroom curtain was drawn, and it relieved him somewhat, the absence of her watchful gaze allowing him to linger across the hall from the doorway and stare at the older of the two girls where she sat, cross-legged on the rug with her back to him. She'd piled her hair on top of her head in a messy bun, allowing him a peek at the soft skin of her elegant neck. For a minute, he completely abandoned the premise of sweeping, simply standing there, leaning on the broom in his grip and studying her as she fiddled with something, her head nodding along with a song he couldn't hear. Unfortunately, the curtain in front of her soon hissed back open, and he took off around the corner rather skittishly to avoid being perceived as a creep.

For quite a while, he took in the sights and nosed around, passing by a certain room more often than needed; the three women opened various boxes and bags, tucking away personal items and checking over the family-sized room they'd been assigned. It was one of the nicer units, same as the one he and Lucy had grown up in. Better rooms with more privacy were one of the benefits afforded to those who furthered the goals of the Vault, but Norm had lived in his own single room for several years and failed to see the appeal of rushing a relationship with a near-arbitrary candidate for bare-minimum material benefit.

There were peers of his, though, that had obviously decided that the deal was worth taking. They'd gush about the ways their lives would improve once they had families of their own, once they did their part for the Vault, for "America", something they didn't even necessarily have a true concept of, save for what they were taught as children, saw in movies, were told by elders who had been told by their elders, and so on. The whole thing lacked any real tangible qualities to it. He lacked enthusiasm for many things, but chief among them was an ideology that couldn't be explained better than pointing to a mural on the wall or simply claiming that "rebuilding is the whole point", whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. He'd never understood the desire to rebuild things just the way they had been before the bombs had dropped, before the war had changed everything forever. After all, what had really caused them to fall to begin with?

Something as massive as a world-ending war didn't happen in a vacuum. Maybe the real reasons behind it would be outside of his conception, issues of a bygone age that wouldn't translate intelligibly.

Wanting a family wasn't outside of his conception, though. As much as he had enjoyed the last several years of bachelorhood, virtually left to his own devices once Lucy had requested her own room, it felt increasingly empty. He'd told himself for a long time that he didn't have to get married or have children simply because that was "what you did when you became an adult" in the Vault. And that was true; he understood completely that he'd been raised in a way that shaped his views and desires as deeply as possible, and he understood that societal expectations weren't fatal to defy. But neither that knowledge nor all the intellectualizing of it he could muster could shake the feelings of loneliness and envy he felt as he watched more and more of his peers marry, saw them having and raising children and moving on with their lives. Even Chet, who was such a chicken around women that Norm was fairly certain he'd never actually been with one, was starting to talk about wanting to get married (maybe even to someone other than Lucy, which was the real surprise).

He had more trouble settling down that evening than usual, pelted with a million racing thoughts; his biggest distraction by far, though, was tracing the shape of a certain woman over and over in his mind, reliving the thrill he'd felt when she'd looked his way. When he'd woken with far more intense morning wood than usual the next day, he was chagrined, but not especially surprised; after all, she had been the very last thing he'd thought of before he'd fallen into deep unconsciousness. Taking care of the issue in a quick, sanitized fashion, he tried his best to not think of her, specifically. Unfortunately, his efforts didn't pay off as much as he'd hoped when he caught a glimpse of her standing in a long line outside of the Overseer's office, likely waiting for her new job assignment, and he was instantly so embarrassed that he turned around and completely rerouted, tripling the length of his walk to the maintenance section. Engrossed in conversation with the woman in line in front of her, she didn't seem to notice him, and for once, he was grateful for his social invisibility.

More significant shame started to settle in quickly when he was dreaming of her, though somewhat innocuously, almost every night after only a few weeks. Yes, he'd had crushes before, almost all of them on people he'd have no realistic chance with, but his brain had never chosen to fixate on a single woman before the way it had locked onto her. There was almost always some thought about her bouncing around in the back of his mind...or the front, depending on the moment. The amount of alone time he had when he was working was both a blessing and a curse, as occupying himself mentally was often his most arduous task, and the list of topics that interested him dwindled rapidly. It wasn't his fault she was new and genuinely fascinating, he told himself.

Soon, he was planning most of his day around getting chances to see her, gathering intel about her and her schedule in as innocuous ways as he could manage. She'd been assigned to the IT team, apparently more than competent in electronics repair and her ability to feel out issues with the Vault's internal electronics and communications systems. When he learned this, he'd made his way through the main IT office to sweep and dust, conveniently coming across the log of individual task assignments. The next day, he found himself on a ladder replacing light bulbs in the recreational wing when she came around the corner, components to fix one of the overhead projectors in hand.

"Morning!" she smiled as she passed by.

"Morning." he responded a moment too late, surprised she'd said anything. His heart raced so fast as she disappeared into the theater room that he had to climb down, nervous he'd manage to fall in his dizzy joy.

For quite a while, it seemed as if he wasn't the only person deeply affected by the influx of fresh faces. The "new toy" glamour was strong around all the recent arrivals, but she was high up on the list for discussion, in particular. Part of it was her height, naturally; she wasn't that tall, but she did stand at least eye-to-eye with a lot of the younger men, and it both scandalized and intrigued them, from how they spoke. Norm was grateful that he had long ago had to come to terms with those types of feelings. But she was also just captivatingly gorgeous, affable in a sincere way. Approachable, though that exact openness intimidated him more than he'd care to admit.

He hoarded information about her like it was his job, but you wouldn't have known it from speaking to him. When she came up in the conversations he found himself wrapped up in, chats with Lucy and Betty and his father, he put on the same air of polite, vaguely-masked disinterest that he usually wore. Though, when Chet asked about her, he admittedly stonewalled him a bit harder, pretending he barely knew who his cousin was asking about. The older the pair got, the more tired Norm grew of feeling like the slightly older man's only emotional support; he certainly wasn't going to spell out how to steal away a woman they both had their eye on. As far as he was concerned, Chet could find his own way.

For several weeks, he monopolized tasks around the dorm area, working later hours so he could be around when she walked through the halls to go home, sometimes accompanied by her sister or a friend. His own sister even joined the mix from time to time, eventually, though it was typical of her to sniff out others with an equal zest for life. He usually lingered out of the way despite how badly he wanted to actually talk to her, too afraid she would suddenly notice how often he was around. However, this particular habit came to a swift end when he rounded the corner towards her family suite one evening and found the older woman who lived with her camped outside, reading a book and leaning against the wall.

He'd learned that she was an aunt of the two younger ladies, one who had been unfortunate in that she was both responsible and unattached enough to be the person chosen to go with all the younger folks from 32 when they moved. Something told him that if he remained childless his whole life, he still wouldn't be burdened with an obligation like that; she made him feel skittish, her protective eye clearly set a little closer on him than he was used to, but he didn't exactly hold it against her.

Trying his best to keep his head low as he passed by her, eyes focused on where the long wooden handle of the push broom met the head, he nearly flinched when she spoke to him.

"Evening." she said, her own gaze not lifting from the pages that filled her hand.

"Hello." he replied diplomatically, giving her a polite nod.

"They've got you working awfully late, haven't they?"

He didn't respond to what she said, tripping over his own tongue as he continued to pass by. The only response that he could fumble for was a forced laugh, but the way she looked at him when she finally did told him quite loudly that she wasn't joking. Fumbling his way down the stairs, he ran the broom along the floor all the way back to maintenance in an effort to look busy as he tried to lower his heart rate. Lying on his couch in his silent apartment later, a weathered hacking manual cradled against his chest, he felt like he could turn himself inside out in pure mortification.

For a week or so, he avoided her as best as he could, convinced she would run screaming if she saw him, but he was too weak to stay away forever. After yet another slow day of dusting, floor polishing, and pushing a broom around the halls in hopes of catching a glimpse of her, Norm decided that he was in need of some genuine alone time somewhere where he wouldn't be bothered. As much as he enjoyed having his own room, he didn't enjoy being functionally unable to really lock the door.

The small utility closet was inconspicuous, tucked at the far end of one hall, away from the living quarters and around a corner almost no one ever took, save for the occasional person assigned to some of the maintenance tasks around the Vault. However, their hours were predictable, and the dinky little room had become somewhat of a place of refuge for him over the years, even before he'd been reassigned to maintenance himself. Since he was a boy, he'd steal away to this hidden place, spending as much time sat on an upturned bucket, studying various manuals and savoring the silence, as he thought he could get away with.

This day, however, it had only been a few minutes of peace before he could hear the telltale sound of someone fiddling with the lock. He'd taught himself how to re-seal it from inside, but it could still be picked from the outside by someone who knew how. Panicking for a moment, he sat frozen, gripping the systems terminal manual in his lap so tight he was afraid he'd rip the pages. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. The only person who knew about his penchant for hiding away here was Lucy, and she wouldn't just barge in. She would linger down the hall, near the more common areas, waiting to see him emerge so she wouldn't draw attention.

Maybe he could lie and say he accidentally got locked inside.

However, his overthinking proved unnecessary when the door flung open and the very person whose visage he'd come here to escape stepped inside, her head peeking around the corner before she let the door close behind her. When she let out a deep sigh, leaning her forehead against the door, he realized she hadn't seen him tucked away in the corner, and he knew he needed to say something quickly.

"Uh, hey." he said lamely, slowly rising from his spot, setting the book aside.

She did jump, but when she turned and sees him, her reaction was more positive than he'd expected.

"Hi there." she replied, her eyes darting around somewhat awkwardly in what he guessed was embarrassment. "Sorry, I assumed this particular random broom closet would be unoccupied."

There was a bit of a pause as he took in what she'd said, leaving the two sort of shuffling back and forth as they stared at one another.

"Well, I guess you know what they say about assumptions." he joked, desperate to ease the weird vibe quickly filling the room. To his pleasant surprise, this earned a seemingly genuine chuckle from her, and the warm, sweet sound made him smile wider than he had in a long time.

"Well, my apologies. I can find another closet to hang out in." she smiled.

"Oh, please. Feel free to stay and take advantage of the luxurious accommodations as long as you'd like." he said, sweeping his hand in a grand gesture around the space, highlighting the stacks of boxes and shelves of janitorial supplies.

She outright laughed at that.

"You're the Overseer's son, right? Lucy's brother? I'm surprised I don't see you more."

There was a bitter taste in the back of his throat at her words, but he knew she was just making an observation to keep the conversation going,

"Yeah, Norm. I'm fairly practiced at blending into the background." he introduced, sticking his hand out in front of him rather awkwardly for her to shake. His palm felt a little clammy as she pressed her own against it, and he cringed internally at how damp it must have felt to her. She didn't react, however, keeping eye contact with him as they shook firmly.

"Norm." she repeated, and hearing her lips wrap around his name like they did made him shiver in a way he really hoped wasn't noticeable. She introduced herself, and he politely listened, rather expertly pretending that he hadn't had all the information she gave him for weeks. It would be difficult to not know of her purely due to her popularity as a topic of discussion, but he knew he would have been fascinated by her, regardless. Something about her, something beyond the physical beauty, was constantly drawing him to her, making her take over his thoughts since she'd arrived.

"So..." he asked. "Hiding from someone?"

She looked rather sheepish for a moment.

"Maybe a few someones. I've been pretty hard-pressed for peace and quiet since we all got here. I knew people would be excited to meet us, but I really wasn't expecting how much people would wanna talk to me, personally. I'm used to a little less public exposure than this."

I don't blame them. he thought. I want to be around you all the time, too, and I hardly know you.

"I mean, really, you're welcome to hang out in here. No one comes in here most of the time, save for once a week or so. I can leave if you wanna be alone." he offered, somewhat awkwardly making a move towards the door.

"Oh, no, please!" she insisted, her warm hand resting on his chest for a moment as she tried to stop him. His heart broke into a sprint. "I don't wanna kick you out of your spot. Maybe I could just sit in here with you for a few minutes?"

He was rather astonished by her offer, but certainly wasn't going to turn her down, gesturing to a stack of boxes to his right. She joined him quickly, still over a head taller than him even when she sat. He stole frequent looks up at her as she settled in, nosing through the little collection of things he'd hidden away.

"Terminal manuals?" she asked, thumbing through the tome he'd been reading when she'd arrived. "Trying to join the IT team?"

"Oh, no." he said. "It's more of a...hobby, I guess."

"Ahh. So you're teaching yourself to hack into things." she replied, her tone teasing as she cut her eyes at him. "I could teach you a thing or two."

"Careful, I'll take you up on that." he teased, feeling shockingly bold, and she giggled again.

For a long while, maybe an hour or so, the two sat in mostly silent company, browsing through the stack of manuals and supplemental readings that lived on the shelf they'd crowded around. Occasionally, she'd ask him an innocuous, simple question, or make a small joke. He ached to do the same, but held his tongue unless spoken to for fear of say something off-putting. The tight space of the utility closet was warm, full of the lingering tang of solder and old, crispy book pages.

Eventually, she stood and stretched, smiling at him before placing the book in her hand back on the shelf. She bent over the stack of boxes she'd been sitting on as she did, and he couldn't pull his eyes away from the shape of her ass jutting out at him. He dug his teeth into his cheek until it hurt to distract himself.

"Alright, I need to get back to the rewiring project I was working on." she said, stretching as she turned to face him. "Thanks for letting me hang out with you, Norm. Let's do it again soon."

"Yeah." he chuckled, trying to remain casual as his gut tightened at the sound of his name on her lips again. "Like I said, whenever."

He didn't really believe she meant what she said, but she did grin rather eagerly before disappearing out the door, leaving him alone in the silence once more. He waited a while longer before following.

That night, he dreamt of her yet again, but this time, he pushed things even further. He didn't try to, but nevertheless, she was there, hidden away in that closet with him again, her intoxicating smell filling the space completely, making his head swim even more than the surreal-feeling setting. Almost everything was eerily similar, only this time he didn't have to worry about being defeated by his own cowardice...

...and this time she was literally welcoming him with open arms, calling him to her eagerly with that bright smile plastered to her angelic face.

He knew she was only being friendly when she'd laughed at his jokes, that the smile she'd flashed him was probably one she used with everyone. But in that moment, it had felt like it was just for him, and the memory of it made him shudder strongly as he felt the pressure of her hands against his chest, tugging him closer by the breast pockets of his suit.

"Norm." she beckoned, and her seductive voice rang through his head. The dream was bordering on lucid; he knew this couldn't possibly be real, but wanted it to be so badly that he pushed forward, pressing his face into the flesh of her throat. It was warm and ghostly and tingled against him like television static, his brain apparently unable to even guess at how heavenly soft her real skin would be.

Endless praise poured from his mouth, breathless words of worship that didn't quite make it to his ears. When he made full contact with her, she was suddenly completely nude, stood there in all her full, soft glory, her loose hair framing her face beautifully as she wrapped her leg around his hip, pushing herself at him eagerly. She didn't say anything, but he could feel her pleading, begging, and he could feel himself overheating as he fumbled with his fly. She kissed him as his cock slid against her skin, and an almost inhuman growl left her as he found her opening and slipped inside, his hips moving quickly and harshly against hers...

Norm woke rather violently, the sudden, pooling warmth of his spend tainting his sheets ripping him from sleep. It took a moment for his head to clear, the fog of sleep making it difficult to determine if what he was experiencing in that moment was any more real than what he had been experiencing a moment ago. This, however, was much less pleasant. Stumbling a bit as he scrambled to his feet, he took in the mess all over him, all over the bed, a cold wave of shame washing over him as he made his way into the bathroom to retrieve a rag. Stripping naked, he shivered unpleasantly as the cool, wet cloth moved across his hot, sticky skin. His cock was still incredibly sensitive in the wake of his orgasm, and he glared at it as it continued to throb softly, not yet deflated.

The humiliation he felt at kneeling beside his bed, naked and tired and scrubbing a mess off of his sheets, was intense. Accompanying it, an overwhelming sense of guilt at fully reducing her to fodder for his sexual fantasies after talking to her exactly one time. He'd dreamt of her before, but this felt different, worse. He was no better than any of the other men in the Vault, he thought. Something of this nature hadn't happened to him since he was a teenager, and apparently all it took to reduce him to a hormonal mess once more was the presence of a nice, attractive woman who didn't completely ignore him.

In the aftermath of the frantic cleaning, he sat on the edge of the mattress, hiding his burning face in his hands as he tried his best to will away the second erection plaguing him. Several long, grating minutes passed, the young man too busy staring at the wet spot on his sheets and internally berating himself to even think of trying to get back to sleep. But eventually, his increasing fatigue and frustration came to a head, and he begrudgingly made his way to the shower, letting the hot water blast him with a deep sigh.

He wasted time for a few minutes, washing his hair unnecessarily before moving to soap his body, pointedly avoiding his aching cock, flushed red and angry at his neglect. If he was going to be a creep, he could at least practice a bit of self control. However, eventually the water began to cool, and he begrudgingly popped open the bottle of conditioner from the shelf beside him, dropping a generous glob in his hand.

He stroked himself quickly, harshly, trying to finish himself off as efficiently as possible, embarrassed at the way he couldn't keep the image of her out of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to think about anything else. The brief view he'd gotten of her ass bent over at the waist was drilled into his head, hips bucking hard into his own grip at the thought of sliding his cock into her from behind, burying his face in her soft hair as he pumped away at her, making her squirm and come apart around him. The thought made him explode, spattering cum across the shower floor and wall.

Resting his forehead against the warm tile, his hand splashed away the mess before fumbling for the nozzle, the spray gurgling to a halt and leaving him standing there, nude and dripping wet, alone with his thoughts. His plan had worked, at least somewhat; he felt nothing now but guilt, mild worry, and the chill of the increasingly cold shower stall. Wrapping himself in a towel and taking in his seemingly half-drowned form in the mirror, he resolved to continue essentially avoiding her. The way he saw it, he was doing her a favor, his ability to act acceptably around her feeling more and more nonexistent by the day.

Little did he know, his new acquaintance was formulating other plans.

The next day was a town hall day, and Norm had arrived just on time, skittering quietly into his chair after dragging his feet a little too long on the way in. His father lingered at the podium, giving his notes a last minute once-over and waiting for the stragglers to make their way to their spots. He slid in beside his sister, nodding to her and then up towards the podium. Hank flashed his children a quick, warm smile before scanning the rest of the room over.

Once the meeting began in earnest, Norm allowed his gaze to wander a bit, noticing a few swaps in how the new people were arranging themselves on "their" side of the hall, even noting some native Vault 33 members mixed in. Several pairs of folks were cuddled up awfully close, which he found remarkable, given the relatively brief time everyone had known one another.

He was distracted from his somewhat judgmental thoughts when he craned his neck and noticed that the person directly across the aisle from him had changed as well, her head already turned in his direction as she entered his line of vision. Instantly, his head snapped back forward, embarrassed at the accidental eye contact. He let a moment pass, staring hard at his father but not hearing any of his words, before peeking over once more; she was still looking his direction, a pleasant smile painting her face.

For most of the remainder of the meeting, he kept his eyes forward, chastising himself for being nosy. But out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that she seemed to keep peeking over at him, and eventually the curiosity got to him. When he allowed himself to fully turn his head and look over at the woman he'd been fixated on for weeks, she looked right back at him, still smiling. He was ready to write it off as some sort of coincidence; maybe she was looking at someone behind him, Lucy or another girlfriend. However, she held his gaze for a long second, one of the hands that rested on her lap lifting to waggle her fingers at him in a small wave.

Who, me?

Almost like she'd heard him, she raised her eyebrows and pointed her forehead at him, as if to confirm his curiosity. His cheeks felt instantly warm, a little smile jumping to his lips.

Slightly dazed, Norm turned his attention back to the stage for real, noticing that Betty had taken up at the podium to discuss some lesser business. He also noticed his dad lingering off to the side; he seemed to be looking straight at him for once, and it caught him off guard. Studying the older man, he watched as his gaze danced back and forth between him and the woman across the aisle from him, his face as unreadable as ever.

Once the meeting concluded, the immediate buzz of voices kicking in filled the meeting hall, several dozen people all trying to shuffle off to work or wherever they were supposed to be. He rose quickly, moving to head back to the menial task he'd been occupying himself with before he'd come down. However, he paused a moment when she leapt up and into his path.

"Hey, Norm!" she said sweetly, waving at him in full as she turned to make her way back down the aisle.

"Hi." he replied awkwardly, smiling as normally as possible at her as she went by.

There was a beat after she left, and already he could feel the growing energy beside him.

"What was that?" Lucy asked almost immediately, drilling into him with those massive eyes of hers.

He scowled as best as he could, crossing his arms.

"Nothing!" he insisted, but the way his sister looked at him didn't convey much faith in his answer. Fortunately, she kept her teasing nonverbal and simply pulled a face at him as he walked away.

Going about the rest of his day, he naturally found himself replaying their little interaction over and over in his head, so distracted by the constant rumination that he almost completely blew through the designated lunch period for all the working adults. Drawn out over a couple of hours, most folks who were able still came towards the beginning for the freshest serving of whatever was on offer for the day, leaving the dining hall comparatively empty for the rest of the time. Dinner was usually a private meal that people ate in their rooms, prepared for themselves and shared with their families, but lunch was treated more communally...by most people. There were the odd few less-than-social individuals, like Norm himself, who would sometimes secret things away to their rooms or another quiet spot to eat alone. But in the few years since he'd moved into his own room, he found that he often didn't feel like putting in the effort, often just choosing an out of the way table and powering down whatever he could get his hands on to fuel him for the rest of his shift with the least amount of fuss.

She was still front and center in his thoughts as he settled quickly into a seat, setting to stuffing the rather bland sandwich into his mouth as quickly as he could without feeling like a beast. Unfortunately, that choice ensured that his mouth was filled almost as full as comfortably possible when she suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision, carrying her own matching meal.

"Hi, Norm! Can I sit with you?" she asked, balancing what looked like some fruit juice in her other hand.

After briefly contemplating attempting to swallow down the whole bite in one go, he decided a nonverbal answer would be less humiliating than accidentally choking to death in front of her, so he nodded very carefully, scooting a few inches across the bench to make room for her. Between his diminutive build and the length of the table, it wasn't needed, but he didn't trust himself to encroach too far into her personal space.

"You don't normally eat this late." she mused pleasantly, casually, as if he was so used to her presence.

"Oh, no. I like to wait until the peak passes, but I usually come earlier than 'the last possible minute'." he replied after a moment, swallowing the last bit of matter in his mouth back nervously.

"I try, but a lot of the time I just get so wrapped up in whatever I'm doing that I lose track of time. Then I end up running down here to grab whatever's leftover." she said between bites. "Lunch isn't my favorite meal."

He chuckled at that, feeling himself relax incrementally.

"So, are you and your family adjusting alright?" he asked after another bite, testing out his rusty conversational skills.

"I think everyone has settled in pretty well. I was kinda worried about my sister when we first moved, but she's made a couple of friends and she likes her job in hydroponics. She loves plants. My aunt has always been a little hard to read, and she's got a real 'stiff upper lip' sort of mentality, but I think she likes it here fine. She's a lady of routine and she's had to make some adjustments." she replied, peeling an especially dry-looking bit of crust from the remainder of her sandwich. "It's sweet of you to ask."

"Ah." he blushed, fumbling for a follow-up. "Is it just the three of you? Do you have other siblings?"

"Yeah, two more younger ones. They're still in school, living with mom and dad and all that. Don't get me wrong, I miss them like crazy, but it's nice to have free time I didn't have before, since I used to watch them a lot." she responded, swallowing down the last of her beverage and setting the empty cup on her plate.

"I bet that would be nice. Must be weird to not be able to talk to them, though."

"I make sure to write them plenty of indoctrinating letters." she smiled.

"Better be careful with that. " he joked, eyes glued to the way her reddened tongue swept across her lower lip. "They'll put the kibosh on communication between Vaults."

"Eh, I'm sure I could figure out a way to write them, anyway." she shrugged with playful hubris, gathering her dishes close to her and sweeping the few crumbs from the tabletop onto it. "Well, I'd totally stay and chat more, but I'm in the middle of some voltage output testing downstairs."

He grinned sadly.

"Well, it was nice talking to you." he said.

"Let's continue the conversation tomorrow. What time do you usually come down to eat?" she asked, rising from her spot.

Rather astonished, he stammered out whatever time came to mind first and simply made an effort to show up at that time. True to her word, she appeared right on time the next day, waving at him as she entered the dining hall. She passed a table of previous 32 dwellers and greeted them as well on her way by, pointedly ignoring the presence of the bigger built guy who was always fixated on her. Her seemingly unwanted shadow had been assigned to security detail and apparently used the job's freedom of movement the same way Norm often did.

They stood in the short line together, both receiving a small serving of minced Cram loaf and a little InstaMash, by far one of his least favorite lunches in the rotation. She didn't seem to notice the eyes on both of them as they sat; that, or she didn't care that people were staring. The conversation didn't start up as quickly as it had the day before, but the silence between them wasn't uncomfortable as he picked at the offering in front of him. He recognized one or two bits of reconstituted vegetable in the pinkish mass of meat, though which kind, he couldn't tell. Mercifully, the half-sphere scoop of potato beside it had already grown relatively cold, reducing the prominence of the smell. He still found himself put off, though, glancing over at his companion where she sat, a few bites deep into the stuff.

"You like the InstaMash, huh?" he asked, and he almost immediately regretted it when her eyes cut towards him, quickly and harshly in a way that could only say one thing:

What the hell's that supposed to mean?

Norm blinked hard in momentary panic at his own faux pas, holding his hands up in as playful a defense as he could.

"I didn't mean it like that. My bad."

She stared at him a moment longer, her gaze softening but obviously still sizing him up.

"Mm?" she replied eventually, waiting for him to better explain himself, possibly before leaving, because he somehow couldn't manage to keep his foot out of his mouth for five minutes of social interaction with her.

"I just meant you like it enough to actually eat it, which is way more than most people around here like it."

"Oh." she said flatly, seeming momentarily flustered. "Well, we don't have this stuff back at 32. You don't like it?"

He was a bit taken aback by her statement, but tucked that information away to dwell on later.

"Nah, I don't even touch it anymore. Working in the kitchens really ruined it for me, not that I really enjoyed it all that much to begin with." he said, poking at the stuff with the very tip of his fork. "Ask Lucy how many times I wadded this stuff up like a snowball and threw it at her when we were kids."

She giggled at that around another bite.

"If you want mine, you can have it. It's probably pretty cold by now but it'll go in the trash otherwise." he offered.

That earned him a smaller, more intimate smile, and her voice was softer, quieter when she replied.

"Thanks. I can't eat too much at lunch, though, or it makes me sluggish the rest of my shift. Plus, these stupid suits already fit my body weird, so if my ass gets any bigger, the bottom might not fit right anymore. Last time I asked for bigger suits I got a twenty-minute lecture about health in the infirmary."

He blinked at her in reply, completely unsure what to say, sensing a playing field full of landmines as his brain churned away double-time in a fruitless attempt to formulate a response. Thankfully, she read the blank panic on his face and granted him the mercy of preemptively cutting his reply off.

"Sorry, I'm rambling." she blushed hard, suddenly looking anywhere but at him, and for a beat he saw the same awkward insecurity he often felt himself. It was strange to see on her, but it was revealing, and it made him feel a bit closer to her. "So, you said you used to work in the kitchens before?"

"Yeah, I did. Morning shift and everything." he said, breathing a little easier at the change of topic.

Is there even a proper way to say "your ass is perfect the way it is" without getting slapped?

"Hmm." she said, pulling a face that made him chuckle. "I hate waking up early. Did you like it?"

"No."

She laughed, and it was full and relaxed instead of the uncomfortable, terse sort of chuckle he usually got back when he was honest about things.

"Well, do you like maintenance better?"

"Uh...no." he smiled guiltily, taking the smallest bite of the Cram loaf he could pick up. "I can't reach a lot of the stuff I'm supposed to do without a ton of effort. I have to open a bunch of those hatch panels for inspections and I'm not quite, uh, strong enough." he said, feeling his face warm a bit at the admission. "It's..."

"Well, putting you there kinda seems like a slight, then, doesn't it?"

"Well, you said it, not me. To be fair to them, though, they've stuck me a lot of places and I've never liked any of them." he shrugged.

She gave him an interesting, but sort of unreadable look in reply.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with trying different things to help you discover what you like." she murmured, pulling a slight face as she took her first bite of the entree. "So many people around here dig themselves deep into situations they don't want and are too afraid to start over. I admire that you can admit when things aren't working out for you."

Her compliment landed a bit strangely, but he smiled anyway and choked down another bite of the stuff himself.

For the next several weeks, things went on just like that; they ran into each other during work often, usually stopping to chat for a bit, and most days they both appeared for lunch around the same time and sat together, mostly eating in companionable silence early on. He found that he really relished being in the company of someone who could appreciate that silence instead of constantly having to fill it with chatter. However, they were both persistent in at least occasionally chipping in some pleasant conversation, and soon they'd grown fairly talkative depending on the day.

One evening, he'd worked late and was making his way back to his room, rather down that he'd gotten caught up in something and had missed his chance to see her that afternoon. However, he was very pleasantly surprised to find her standing outside his door when he turned the corner.

"Hey!" she greeted, smiling widely at him as he approached. "I missed you at lunch today!"

"Oh, yeah. I got distracted and lost track of the time." he muttered, his heart fluttering at her enthusiasm.

Her grin morphed into a mask of slight guilt.

"I hate to ask you this, but could I bug you for a favor?"

"Sure." he replied, not allowing his hesitation to slip into his voice.

"Could I use your shower real quick? I have an IT society meeting in an hour or so and my sister is hogging the bathroom in our room." she asked, tagging onto the end a rushed "You don't have to, of course. I just thought I'd ask."

"Yes." he blurted instantly, fighting a sense of panic at how his cock began to stir at the image her question kicked up in his brain.

"Great. Thank you so much. I'm gonna run and get my stuff." she beamed before turning and disappearing again, leaving Norm scrambling to check over the little apartment for anything that needed to be tossed or hidden away before she came back. Fortunately, the only objectionable objects he found in his search were a pair of used underwear on the floor near the hamper and a conspicuous bottle of lotion a bit too close to the bedside.

She knocked when she returned, a rare quality in Vault 33. He welcomed her in, keeping his eyes glued to her face to avoid shaming himself.

"Thanks again." she said, cradling a towel, a clean suit, and a bottle of standard issue body wash in her arms.

"No problem. I remember what it's like to share a room with a sister who hogs the bathroom." he replied, lingering as she stripped out of her boots and socks and sat them by the table.

She smiled at that, working her hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head.

"I'm not mad at her. I remember what it's like to be eighteen." she replied, her hands moving to the collar of her suit and working the snaps open, fussing with the inner liner. "That said, I still need a shower before I have to sit shoulder-to-shoulder with someone else."

He didn't reply immediately, too captivated by the view of her slowly unzipping the suit all the way down, revealing the thin shirt she wore underneath. She didn't miss a beat, shucking the wadded-up suit down to her ankles, the blue material pooling around her feet as she stepped out of it. The younger man's thoughts almost instantly blanked out, drawn irresistibly to the new view of her bare, strong legs.

"I'll try to not make a mess." she winked playfully as she folded the soiled suit, placing it on the table as she stood there, cast in the yellow glow of the overhead light in nothing but her sleeveless undershirt and her panties. Norm's immediate instinct was to look away, but she reached out and gave him a little pat on the arm that drew his intense stare, following her along as she made her way towards the bathroom. Simultaneously cursing and grateful for the existence of the thin curtain, he watched as she drew it closed behind her. Well, mostly closed behind her; there was a generous margin of a few inches that remained uncovered at the far end, offering him a slight peek into the small room. He felt stuck, undulating between wanting to pick a seat that would allow him to sneak a glance at her and wanting to put his nose to the wall until she left. Striking an internal compromise, he took a careful seat on the couch where he couldn't see into the bathroom doorway...unless he craned his neck.

She was humming something tuneless as she lingered around the sink, likely assessing herself in the mirror. A second later, she passed by the opening, so fast he could hardly see that her back was bare, but that small peek at her previously unseen flesh instantly riled him, a heat blooming all across him as the quiet hiss of the shower head filled the place. The Overseer's son knew that he was being entirely improper, that he really shouldn't have agreed to let her do this in the first place if he couldn't control himself around her, but he couldn't turn his head away after that first glance, eyes glued to that sliver of openness. There was a sickening mix of anticipation and absolute dread that he might see something else churning deep in his core; when she turned back towards the door for another step and he could make out the side of the curve of her breast, the equilibrium was broken, and he was so awash in guilt that he was finally able to turn his head forward once more, physically nauseous at how badly he wanted her.

"Oh, shoot!" she called over the water. "I forgot a washcloth. Can I use one of yours?"

"Sure." he squeaked back, too afraid to turn his head towards the door.

For fifteen minutes or so, he sat there in limbo, trying his best to regulate his breathing and will his already throbbing cock to go down. He even turned on the television, an old western still in the tape deck from when Lucy had last come over to watch a movie. The entire film was burned clear as day into his memory, so he allowed his brain and gaze to glaze over, trying to think of anything but the naked, wet woman in the next room. Unfortunately, he failed miserably, and by the time the rainfall sound of the shower gurgled to a stop, he'd pulled a thick tome about electrical circuits into his lap to hide his shame.

He didn't rise to greet her when she exited the bathroom, tendrils of steam curling around the door frame and into the main living area. When she cut a path past the couch to say goodbye, the time for her meeting rapidly approaching, he found it hard to meet her gaze, afraid she'd sniff out what a debased freak he was. But she didn't seem to notice anything out of place, her arms wrapped around her dirty clothes, the damp washcloth sat on top.

"Thanks again! Bring you a clean one tomorrow." she promised, waving as she went by.

Feeling borderline rabid as she finally made her way out the door, his eyes were glued to her ass the moment she passed by enough to turn her back to him. The door hissed closed behind her, and he watched as her silhouette crossed the curtains, disappearing down the hall. Almost immediately, he chucked the heavy text out of his lap, the pressure on his groin offensive. The thing wobbled on the edge of the couch before clattering to the floor on its face, dog-earing a section of pages, and he let out a frustrated sigh. There was a sharp ache in his groin as he stood to collect it. He stood there, tingling with remorse and trying his best to mash and refold the pages into place with trembling hands, but he fumbled and failed, dropping the thing onto the small side table in pure frustration.

Resigning himself to his fate, he rubbed at his burning face as he made his own way into the bathroom, silently praying that he'd be able to look her in the face again after being so unhinged in her presence. The pair of them were only starting to become close, and he could feel himself actively trying his best to run her off. Pushing the curtain aside once more, he tried his best to avoid looking at himself in the mirror that sat a few inches too high above the sink. By the time he'd stripped completely, he still hadn't decided exactly how cold his shower was going to be, kicking his boots and dirty clothes into a pile in the corner near the doorway. Turning to pad across the cool tile, his rarely-exposed soles especially sensitive to the temperature, one foot suddenly landed on something thin and frictionless, sending his leg sliding out from under him.

"Oh my fucking god!" he growled, barely righting himself in time with a hand against the wall as he glared down to see which possession of his was about to be the direct target of his sexually frustrated ire. What he found, however, was a thin white slip of fabric too small to be anything of his. It appeared to be a pair of her panties.

The worn pair.

Though he'd assumed he'd long ago reached the zenith of his capacity for self-hatred, he somehow managed to drop a level deeper as he stooped to pick the things up, clenching them in his fist like they'd somehow manage to escape without missing a beat. Despite the loud, protesting voice in his brain, he couldn't hold himself back from doing what the basest part of him was demanding, lifting them to his nose and taking a deep huff. The intense ache of his neglected cock at the smell of her made him whimper pitifully, the actual shower forgotten entirely as he leaned back against the wall. His breaths were heavy, the strain only intensified by the humid air of the small space; even that was full of her scent, the familiar fragrance of the body wash in the air off by a degree in a way that could only be attributed to her. That intoxicating perfume, along with the sheer amount of blood rushing from his skull elsewhere, made his head spin, and his constantly-nagging erection twitched eagerly as he wrapped his free hand around it.

His previously overwhelming shame was shockingly absent as he began to pump himself in slow, firm strokes, breathing out her name sharply as his eyes clenched shut. The figure of her in her underwear loomed large in the forefront of his mind, the softness and curves and strength completely overpowering him and flooding his imagination with all the ways he wanted to feel her. He wanted to completely submit himself to whatever made her happy, spend all of his time and stored enthusiasm pleasing her, earning her affection and attention. The sound of the nearby shower dripping conjured images of bathing her, worshiping every single soapy inch of her with his hands and mouth, rutting his neglected cock against her leg until she allowed him to lead her to bed.

Thinking about her sinking herself down onto his cock, the resulting throb in his gut made him groan so loud he'd have been shocked if his neighbor couldn't hear through the vents. Desperate to prolong the toe-curling pleasure he felt as he continued to fuck his fist, he switched hands, wrapping the soiled fabric around his shaft and allowing the his non-dominant hand's lack of coordination to pull him back from the edge just a hair's breadth. However, a quick glance down at his own ignominy was the end of him, the embarrassment enough to viciously snatch back the small amount of headway he'd gained. As he shot all over the floor, squeezing the base of his cock hard as his hips rutted into his grip, her name tried to launch off of his tongue yet again but he refused to let it, swallowing it back in a pained gurgle.

Surprisingly, he was primarily fatigued as he released himself, a heavy shudder breaking up his spine as his the final shocks of his climax ran through him. It was only in that moment he realized just how tense he had been before, every muscle in his body aching and trembling with exhaustion. Letting out a deep sigh, he took in the mess before him, cradling the small garment in his hand and examining it for signs of his own mess.

He should have planned to tuck them into his pocket and return them to her; though it would have been a little awkward, it was almost certainly the correct thing to do. Instead, he hid them deep in his bedside table drawer and silently practiced what he would say to her if she asked about them. Returning to the scene of the crime, he yet again spent several minutes on his knees, scrubbing up his own sin off the floor with his dirty boxers before throwing himself into as hot a shower as he could stand. The heat of the water on his aching muscles was a welcome sensation, relaxing, and within a few minutes he was tiptoeing close to falling asleep, leaning against the shower wall.

Climbing into bed afterwards, his damp hair leaving a dark ring on his pillow, he stretched his arm across the empty expanse of bed next to him, and he felt lonelier than he had in a long time. Though he'd been eager to see her go so he could relieve himself, the place felt drab and empty without her.

His plan to avoid her in order to relieve himself of his obsession had been miserably unsuccessful, and he couldn't bring himself to reformulate. It wasn't difficult to see how kind and warm she was; that shone through to the very surface of her, and one could pick out that special glow from a mile away. It was one of the things he found most attractive about her (once he was able to pull his mind at least a few inches out of the filth-filled gutter). But there were so many more gorgeous aspects of her, mind and body, that he discovered with all the time they spent alone. She was also incredibly sharp-witted and funny, and though she often teased him, she was never truly mean. Playfully so, yes, and it thrilled him in a way he suspected she was aware of.

On top of everything, she was more thoughtful than he thought most people capable of. He never seemed to slip her mind like he so often did with others.

Eventually, they grew close enough that the days they couldn't eat lunch at the same time didn't hinder their time together. Instead, they would meet up in the evenings and chat while walking laps around the maintenance wing, which had initially been laps around the admin wing until a certain male transfer started working full shifts in the security office and staring them down through the window as they went by. Other days she would come to his room and they'd catch up sitting on his couch, the hum of the television in the background. One evening in particular, he'd been flitting back and forth across the little apartment, anxiously cleaning in anticipation of her visit.

"Hey." he greeted as she let herself in, dropping exhaustedly onto the couch.

She'd already tied the upper half of her suit around her waist, the thing unzipped to the navel and her hair piled on top of her head. The casual, comfortable look on her distracted him as he finished up putting yet another set of clean sheets on his mattress. Slyly, he nudged the soiled ones beneath the bed with the toe of his boot, tucking them as far back as he could and praying she wouldn't notice them.

He offered her a glass of water from the sink before joining her on the couch, passing the cup into her grip and noticing that her middle and ring fingers were wrapped up in gauze from the second knuckle down.

"Aw. What'd you do?" he asked, holding his hand out somewhat timidly and smiling when she slid her larger one into it.

"Oh, I burned myself on some live wiring like a dummy. It's not too bad. I just get my hands dirty so often and I didn't want it to get infected, so I covered it up." she said, letting him turn her injured appendage over.

"Poor thing." he hummed, stroking gently over her unwrapped knuckles with his thumb. For a split second, he was tempted to lift her hand to his mouth and give it a soft kiss. But the memory of the time he'd tried that sort of half-formed romantic gesture with Beth Cross, as well as the memory of her reaction, quickly flashed through his mind, and the urge died almost instantly. Instead, he lowered it back down to rest on her knee, but didn't pull his own away. She didn't move to reject his minuscule advance, and it made him feel ten feet tall.

For a while, they swapped stories about their days, hers much more interesting than his, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way she responded. She talked excitedly about moving into her own room, something she'd requested when her sister had expressed a desire for more privacy. He was happy for her, but couldn't shake the strange feeling of worry that washed over him when he thought about her sleeping alone in a basically unlocked room. They held hands for what felt like a long, long time before she eventually excused herself to the bathroom. He watched her go, eyes glued to the way her ample hips and ass swayed with her walk, and let out a quietly frustrated sigh as that familiar sensation deep in his gut stirred up once more.

"I'm gonna go to the social tonight. Are you?" she asked suddenly as she reemerged, pulling her hair loose from the bun that had held it and fussing with the length.

The youngest MacLean tried his best to withhold the cringe that crept up his back at the mention of one of his least favorite aspects of Vault culture. The weekly socials had been going on since before he was born, and he'd hated them since before he was even made to go. When he was young, he'd hated being left to occupy himself in his family's room while his father and Lucy attended, but once he became of age, he realized he also hated attending himself.

The socials, they'd been taught, were intended to encourage community spirit and good feeling among neighbors, as well as to allow the hardworking folks of the Vault to blow off some steam. However, what they truly were was somewhere between an insanely awkward singles' mixer and a poor recreation of the high school dances he'd seen in movies. Older members attended to chaperon and collect bits of gossip, while younger members attended in hopes of hooking an attractive spouse...and to collect bits of gossip. Norm quite literally always ended up sat at a table in the back, alone, watching Lucy and Chet and all their other peers dance and laugh and flirt, and overall just soaking in the "ghost at the feast" feeling. It wasn't his favorite thing to do by any means.

Granted, it wasn't completely unenjoyable. Sometimes there was cake.

"Nah, I literally never go to those things." he replied as casually as he could manage, willing a change in topic as she flopped back down onto the couch.

"Well, I literally never see you there, so that makes sense." she teased, leaning close and carding her fingers through his hair, sending him shivering lightly at the way her short, manicured nails scratched lightly at his scalp. "You should come down, though. My sister's working, so she can't come along to keep me company. Besides, I wanna dance and I think if I keep bugging Lucy and Betty they'll get sick of me."

"You dance with Betty?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

She shrugged loosely, fully uncaring and smirking.

"She's really good! Betty's got a ton of energy for a lady her age." she said. "Plus, I can't dance with most of the guys because they instantly get super weird about it."

He didn't need to ask her for clarification, so he kept quiet, fidgeting a bit in his seat.

"Well, Lucy loves dancing and she loves making friends, so I doubt she'll get sick of you."

She chuckled briefly at that, but refused to let him evade her offer.

"Still. I'd really love it if you'd come."

It was clear that she was being serious, and it set him to fully squirming; he was unaccustomed to his presence being demanded out of desire and not obligation. Mercifully, she left it at that, excusing herself to finish up moving her things with a quick, gentle kiss to his cheek that stalled his breath in his chest. He sat in his room a while, bouncing between fiddling with his Pip-Boy and staring at the clock as the evening ticked by, bouncing his knee all the while, the time for the social drawing nearer and nearer.

There was no way he would manage to completely escape humiliation if he decided to go. Embarrassment seemed to find him easily, and he'd long accepted that as an unfortunate fact of his life. She would be pulled away, or get distracted and forget about him. Or worse, she would be with him all night and realize what a miserable bore he really was. What he had to decide was whether the likely humiliation was worth the time he might get to spend with her.

He stayed locked in indecision, frozen on the couch for far too long, and it wasn't until the social had already been going on for over half an hour that he decided to head down. The halls were largely abandoned, most people either filling the meeting hall in the admin wing or settling into their rooms for the evening, and the silence helped him calm himself as he made his way down.

This particular social was more heavily attended than he remembered them being, but with all the shuffling of personnel, he wasn't necessarily surprised...though, he wasn't exactly pleased, either. This many people meant an awful lot of watching eyes, ready to take in his failure to act like a regular person, ready to note his every little peculiarity to one another in hushed tones. It made him tense back up more than a bit as he descended the stairs, eyes scanning the clusters of folks talking and dancing, searching for her.

It took just long enough for the pit of self-doubt in his gut to start aching to find her, tucked over against the wall on the margins of the dance floor, chatting up another woman who he didn't properly recognize. Though her back was to him, he knew her shape and the shine of her hair instantly, and suddenly he didn't completely dread every moment of being there. He tried his best to weave through the crowd unnoticed, though several people made curious eye contact with him as he squeezed by, wedging himself between swaying bodies. One such body was her least favorite security officer, looming near the edge of the crowd; Norm hadn't noticed him until they'd already collided gently, the guy immediately turning his chin down towards him and glaring hard.

"Sorry." he muttered, pushing himself through the edge of the cluster and taking a moment to appreciate the free space, watching as she turned back towards the dance floor, towards him. Her face positively lit up when she saw him, her arm raising and waving at him excitedly as he closed the rest of the distance between them. Her suit was back fully in place, her hair still up, but slicked back.

"You came!" she said, her tone cheery. "I wasn't sure you would."

"Uh, yeah." he replied awkwardly, still feeling eyes on his back. "I would've felt bad if I didn't. You asked so nicely, after all."

She laughed at his non-joke, likely trying to help calm him as she took in his tense posture.

"Let's get some punch and sit down for a few minutes." she said.

The pair chatted a bit as they stood in the short line, their words mixing in with the murmur of a few dozen others.

"So..." he hesitated. "What's the deal with you and Lieutenant Hall Monitor, anyway?"

She snickered at the nickname as her eyes followed his tilting head, which made him relax one degree more. However, when the laughter faded away, she let out a sigh.

"Is he bothering you?"

"Nah, but I will say that I seem to annoy him more than usual."

There was a palpable kink in the energy between them for the briefest of seconds.

"It's not about you. We were supposed to get married last year, way before the transfer." she said, suddenly much quieter. "Obviously, we didn't end up going through with that."

"Oh."

"Don't get me wrong; there's a reason. It was the right thing for me. He's just...mean sometimes." she continued, to which he shook his head disapprovingly and tried to not cast a glance the guy's way. "It's awkward, you know? I was hoping I'd have a whole fresh start when I signed up to move here, but then he came along, too. I think he sees us as 'separated' and not 'over'. I was pretty pissed when I found out his transfer request was approved."

"I have to say, as someone who's been dumped before, sometimes you just have to take it on the chin." he replied, trying to inject some levity into the conversation and unable to avoid self-effacement.

"I have to save a little blame for his parents. And mine. Probably our council, too. " she sighed heavily, fiddling with her sleeve. "I got separate talks from all of them to basically tell me I didn't understand what I was doing when I called off the wedding. I'm sure he still thinks there's something up with me that I'll snap out of eventually because that's what they told him."

"That's...unhelpful."

"Yes. He was pretty upset when we broke up, though, so maybe it was an attempt at comfort. I'm not quite sure what the thought process was." she went on, very interested in the dirt under her nails. "We dated a long time, so it's a lot of history to walk away from. I get that. But we were kids when we started. I want different things now, and I had to make some changes before I got too far into a life I didn't want. Plus, I complained to my sister so much about him, and I was really afraid of what she'd take away as a lesson if I still married him."

"Ah. I understand." he said, keeping his tone casual despite all the new information turning over in his brain. He could sense unsteady ground here, and he felt guilty that he'd asked to begin with. "Well, I guess that explains why he tries to blow up my head with his mind every time we see one another now. I'm sympathetic, actually."

I'd kick myself every day if I managed to get that close to the finish line with you and still fuck it up somehow.

"Oh yeah? You want me to beat him up for you?" she offered conspiratorially, smiling again.

"I think I'll be okay." he chuckled, face hot yet again as she leaned just a bit closer. The rest of their quick wait was relatively quiet, the two of them sharing a glance that gave him goosebumps. They made their way past the big communal punch bowl and accepted cups from Reg and Betty; the older man sized them both up as they went by, but didn't comment on anything other than to say hello.

"It's good to see you participating for once, Norman." Betty said, and Norm smiled the least tight-lipped smile he could in response.

They settled at one of the empty bench tables that had been pushed to the far edges of the room, their backs to the wall as they sipped their beverages and watched everyone mingle. She seemed prone to the same sort of quiet observation he was.

"You know, I was thinking about those manuals you were reading when we first hung out." she said after a while, polishing off the red liquid in the paper cup she held. "I really could teach you about working with the terminal system if you're interested."

Embarrassed prickles broke out along his back and scalp at the warm, nostalgic feeling her bringing the incident up inspired.

"Oh, you don't have to do that." he said dismissively.

"I know. There's no rule that mandates it or anything, as far as I know." she replied, leaning on one arm and drawing herself closer to him until their legs were touching. "I'm offering explicitly because I want to. I like spending time with you."

His response caught in his throat at that, genuinely unsure how to respond to her confession. Suddenly, a new song came on over the jukebox speakers, mixed just a tad louder than the last, and her face lit up again, almost as brightly as it had when he'd entered the room.

"Oh, I absolutely love this song! Come dance with me!" she smiled, offering her hand.

"Ah, I really don't think I remember how." he chuckled awkwardly, voice slightly raised over the sound of the music. "It's been so long since I learned."

For years, Norm had been Lucy's compulsory dance partner. She'd forced him to practice every night for months until he knew all the steps to everything the first year she'd begun to attend, so he wasn't unskilled at it. But he loathed the attention he often drew from his lack of grace, hated the stories of past embarrassments that new embarrassments tended to trudge up.

"That's okay, honey! I'll lead." came her reply, his heart rate kicking up a gear at the affectionate pet name. And, true to her word, she whisked him up to his feet and tugged him a bit closer to the makeshift dance floor, lingering towards the back edge to give the two of them some space. He was even more aware of the height she had over him than normal as she stood close, guiding one of his hands to rest on her shoulder, clasping the other in hers. The soft swell of her breasts pressed lightly against his upper chest, and his whole face felt hot.

"You can lead once you get the steps back down, if you want." she murmured, seemingly mistaking his aroused distraction for embarrassment about being in the "woman's" position.

"It's fine. I seriously barely remember anything, so a little refresher would be great." he responded quickly, eager for anything else to focus on that wasn't the warmth and smell of her standing as near as she was. Fortunately, the song was jaunty, but not too fast, so they held one another loosely and trotted back and forth for most of it, the familiar pattern of steps and twirls coming back to him rather quickly. By the time the next song had begun, a bit faster, they were going along steadily, hardly missing a beat.

"You're really good!" she said, and he laughed her compliment off, working to keep his small steps in time with her larger ones. Slowly, they made their way a bit closer to the crowd, not fully folding in, but stepping nearer to joining in as they enjoyed the music. He could feel the attention they were attracting, but the way she let him cling to her made the anxiety it caused melt away.

Soon, another new song began, this one much slower and a bit sadder, but she still didn't pull away. There was a bit of a pause as she guided one of his hands down to her hip, her own coming to rest on his shoulder as she allowed him to take the lead. He wobbled a bit, his face warm, but she was patient and soon they were swaying along like it was the most natural thing in the world. As his confidence grew, he felt sure enough to guide the pair of them around a bit, twirling along with the bluesy rhythm.

As they turned, Norm could've sworn that he'd caught a glimpse of his father, leaning along the upper railing and looking down over them, but he was too caught up in the thrill of holding her like he was to bother looking back over his shoulder. He was too happy, too rarely comfortable in his body and the situation he found himself in to bother with anything else. Time was lost to him completely. When the very last song ended, she finally pulled away, but the hand that clasped his didn't, leaving them standing near the middle of the floor, fingers intertwined as the last few notes faded out.

"That was nice." he blurted, and she grinned down at him, giving his hand a little squeeze.

"It was. I'm really happy you came." she said. "Do you wanna see my new room? I managed to get all moved in before I came down here." she asked. "I don't have the route quite down-pat yet, but I'm pretty sure it's not all that far from yours."

"Sure. I'd like that." he said as they made their way over to the wall again, lingering as they waited for the bulk of the traffic to empty out of the hall. He tried his best to not fidget.

They walked in easy silence for the couple of minutes it took to make it back to the dormitory wing of the Vault. As they wound their way out of the administrative section, she allowed her path to cross slightly into his, her hip bouncing into him playfully. She took it as an opportunity to grab his hand back up into hers, and he grinned at her as she wound her fingers into his. When they began to walk along the rows and rows of doors, their pace slowed, attempting to draw out their journey just a bit longer. Eventually, she stopped in front of one that didn't stand out more than any other.

"Well, I'm pretty sure this is me. Ready for the grand reveal?"

He chuckled heartily as she stood aside, sweeping her arms in a grand gesture as the door lifted itself, revealing almost a carbon copy of the room he lived in, save for a few of her personal affects already sitting around. Playing along, he gave her an appreciative clap, pretending to appraise the place from her side. It made her giggle, and the sound tinkled embarrassingly down his spine.

"I'm glad you like it." she said, stepping almost as close as she had been when they were dancing. But there was no music now, no social cover for their encroaching proximity. She didn't seem to care, though, her head tilted down towards him; somehow, she managed to look down at him without making him feel small, and it made him even more drawn to her than before. In fact, it almost seemed like she was coming closer...

Norm didn't know how to react for the first heartbeat or two of her kissing him, his brain buffering hard in disbelief. Luckily, she'd come to be somewhat familiar with his artless tendencies, and lingered long enough for him to come fully back into his own body, eventually managing to kiss back. Hesitantly, he moved one hand up to rest back on her hip, pulling her a hair closer like he had before. This spurred her into bringing her hand up to rest along his cheek, and it idled there when she pulled back.

"Took you long enough, Norm." she said suddenly, and after a hard pause, they both broke into laughter that they tried in vain to keep quiet. His heart was flying, and there was a joy pulsing in his veins that he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. They lingered in her doorway together, smiling shyly at one another.

"Alright, I'd better try and get settled down. I've gotta be up early yet again." she sighed, finally taking a step into the place before pirouetting back towards him. "I'd invite you in, but I didn't get a chance to try out the shower fully before I had to go down for the social, and I got pretty sweaty hauling my stuff down here."

"Uhh..." he replied dumbly, completely fumbling his chance to flirt back by offering to share the shower in his effort to swallow back his initial response. Somehow, he'd managed to keep his cool well enough through her literally kissing him, but the thought of her all sweaty was what started getting him hard.

"See you tomorrow? Maybe after you're off we could start on some of the stuff I wanted to teach you." she cut him off, a knowing glint in her eyes.

"Definitely." he mumbled out before they said goodbye. He let her door close in his face just so he could have the additional second in her presence it provided before looking both ways over his shoulder, trying to remember which way his room was in his fog of elation.

It was impossible for him to keep the big, cheesy grin off of his face as he walked, spreading so wide across his face that it almost made his cheeks ache, unaccustomed to the pressure. He was inefficient getting back where he was going, missing a turn or two in his distraction. As he rounded the corner towards his room, still high on the feeling of her pressing herself so close to him, he jumped in surprise as he nearly slammed directly into his father.

"Sorry, dad." he said. "I didn't see you coming."

"That's alright." Hank replied, smiling as his hand came to rest on his shoulder. "I wasn't expecting to see you at the social, you know. It was nice to see you making friends."

He smiled back, squirming a bit as he lifted his head to look up at him. No matter how old he got, Norm always felt a bit like a child in his father's presence.

"Yeah, I had fun. Guess all that dancing Lucy used to make me do paid off at least a little bit."

"I suppose so." he said simply. "I noticed you getting particularly close with one of our transfers. What's her name, again?"

He reminded the older man, every syllable rolling off of his tongue almost worshipfully.

"Oh, yes. The one from IT. She's very nice. I've heard wonderful things about her from Betty."

"Yeah, she's definitely right up Betty's alley." the younger man replied, nervousness churning in his stomach as he tried to find the courage to get out what he really wanted to say, eventually succeeding, though just barely.

"I, uh, think she likes me, actually." he said, fumbling just so with his words.

He'd somewhat expected appraisal from his father, maybe even some pride that his awkward, introverted son had put in some effort to socialize and had managed to eke out a mild win. But there was nothing in the Overseer's face, just the same vague smile that he usually wore.

"That's great, son. Sleep tight." he replied, lifting his hand to ruffle Norm's hair like he always had when he was a boy before continuing down the hall towards his own room.

The whole thing felt strange, but his lingering excitement from before couldn't be extinguished by that one interaction, and by the time he'd made it back to his room, he was back to obsessing over the feeling of her soft mouth on his. His father's reaction wasn't forgotten, but it ceased to matter for the moment. That night, he dreamt of following her into her room, kneeling before her and worshiping her with his mouth as she leaned against the wall, the air filled with the sounds of her pleasure as she moaned out his name.

He got his usual mid-morning start the next day, lingering around his apartment until the last moment in favor of an extended shower masturbation session. His dream was still fresh in his mind, and it was a much-needed relief of pressure. Feeling less tense than before as he made his way to the janitorial closet, he wondered, somewhat melancholic, how long into his day he would have to wait to see her.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the closet door slid open to reveal her sitting on top of a crate of cleaning chemicals. His gut and back were instantly tense again at the sight of her soft, curvy body reclined there, fiddling with her Pip-Boy as she smirked at him.

"Hey there, handsome."

"Hi." he replied, more demure than he'd wanted. "Looking for something?"

"Actually, one of the things on my list today is to go up and inspect some of the fail-safe wiring around the external door. Pretty sure there are maintenance things up there too, right?" she asked, feigning innocence in a none-too-convincing way. "Wanna come with?"

He agreed eagerly, rifling through one of the tool boxes along the wall until he found a proper wrench, setting it delicately on top of a clipboard with some inspection forms clipped to it.

"Twins!" she said, holding up her own clipboard and digging a pair of pliers out of her pocket.

The younger man smiled at that, and the two of them were largely quiet as they made their way up to the top floor of the Vault proper. When they reached the doors to the elevator that rode all the way to the surface level, he hit the button and stood back to allow her to step in first. She leaned casually against the wall, the scant lighting throwing eerie shadows around her face.

"How'd you sleep?" he asked as the doors shut behind them.

"I slept great. Nice and quiet. Way too early of a start, though. You?"

"Good. Took me a while to get settled down." he replied diplomatically, holding his things to his chest and keeping his head high, feigning some dignity.

"Oh yeah? Lonely?" she teased as her eyes sparkled devilishly at him.

"Maybe a little." he admitted, turning his eyes forward once more and watching her reaction carefully in his peripheral vision; she leaned just a bit closer for the remainder of the slightly creaky ride up.

There was something about being on the uppermost level, being so near the outside, that sent an eerie tingle up his spine. The Vault already had a certain feeling of artificiality at times, like living in a dressed-up rat cage, and being so far removed from the living quarters only intensified it. The only sound here was the hum of fluorescent lights and the whirs and gurgles of the various HVAC and wastewater systems, echoing down into the deep pit that led back into the body of the place.

Very occasionally, a rumbling could be heard from just beyond the massive gear-shaped door, low and grating like a mournful moan. His father had once explained that it was likely sand or debris brushing past the outermost door, a sound intensified in its spookiness by the way the thick layers of steel and concrete warped it. However, his mind kicked up images of radiation-ravaged cannibals, trying their best to scrape and pound their way in, and, no matter how childish it felt, it made him shudder. He was glad he wasn't there alone.

"I heard one of the girls you came here with is pregnant, but I don't remember what her name is." he said as casually as he could manage, both fishing for info and trying to will his nervous mind to grab onto something, anything else.

"Oh, her." she replied, grasping for the name herself as they made their way along the metal walkway. "Yeah, I heard. I'm happy for her, I suppose. Seems fast to me, but I try not to get too involved in conversations like that, otherwise I start getting a huge inquisition about when I'm pushing one out myself."

Norm snorted hard at her candor, and the sound made her titter, echoing through the chamber-like room, mixed with their clinking footsteps as they made their way along the thin metal catwalk.

"I can't say I relate. Discussions about wanting a baby do not usually involve me." he said rather self-effacingly.

"Consider yourself lucky." she said, eyes scanning casually along the wiring that led up to the control panel nearest the big door. "The way they talk to me about my plans for a family gives me the major creeps. I've been tricked into many a 'basic quarterly checkup' over the last few years that ended with me in stirrups being grilled about when I'm going to start having kids."

"Quarterly checkup?" he asked, feeling his eyes bulge out of his head just a bit.

She rolled her own at that.

"I know. Believe me. But you know how it is! They start going on and on about the mission, and 'the future of America lies in a healthy Vault', and all that, and you quickly get to a point where you're willing to do basically anything to make it stop." she said with a sigh.

"Yeah, I guess I get that." he responded dumbly. "They do tend to lay it on thick when they want something from you."

"Do you wanna know what they've tried to convince me is a 'good' number of kids?" she asked conspiratorially, her voice almost a whisper as she turned to fully look him in the eye. She had such an intense gaze that it pinned him in place, silent, for a second too long.

"How many?" he stammered out.

"Six!" she said, her eyebrows so high in emphasis that they nearly disappeared into her hair line before continuing along the way.

"No fucking way." he spat in shock, freezing for a step or two behind her.

She laughed heartily, earnestly, even more beautiful.

"I know! And the craziest part is that they sort of act like six is the ground floor when they say it. I mean, we have a built-in village to help out around here, right?" she asked facetiously, approaching the control panel and running her eyes down the paper. "Wrong! My mother had four, beginning with me, and I basically raised the last one starting around twelve because my parents had two other children to focus on. Kids take a lot of work. I wouldn't have more than I knew I could handle."

He nodded along with her words in silent support, watching her movements. As she spoke, she checked a few things off of the list in her hands before setting it aside, perched precariously along the top edge of the panel, pulling a rag from her pocket and dusting the whole thing lightly. She then set to flipping up the few safety covers that blocked the major buttons and switches, letting her fingers linger along the ones that controlled the only thing that stood between them and the irradiated outside world.

"Do you ever think about leaving?" she asked suddenly, tone rather humdrum in her focus.

Norm wasn't exactly surprised to hear that she, like Lucy, had more curiosity about what it would be like to cut out than the average Vault dweller. She was too intelligent, too analytical to live the entirety of her life in a hole in the ground unquestioningly. However, she was also brave (and possibly foolhardy) enough to seriously consider what striking out and leaving would mean. Sure, Norm may have reserved a not-insignificant part of his brain for daydreaming about what it would be like to be somewhere he felt accepted, but he felt too afraid at the unknown of what lay beyond the door to truly consider it. Besides, he knew that even if he could muster up the gumption to decide to leave, he'd only be a burden on the survival of those around him.

"In theory." he replied after a pause.

She was quiet at that, the slightest hesitation separating his answer from her flipping the covers back into place.

"Can I bum your wrench?" she requested, her hand already outstretched. He placed the one from his pocket into her grip and watched with rapt attention as she easily popped the cover to the access panel on the side of the thing open, crouching down low to reach the bolts closest to the floor. The show of strength stirred something up in him, but he remained quiet as he watched her finish up her inspection, signing off on the form when she was done.

"Alright, everything looks good on my end. Wanna check out the maintenance terminal and get outta here?"

"Absolutely."

His skin crawled in unpleasant anticipation as they made their way back towards the elevators, stopping midway at the HVAC control panel that he was supposed to inspect. He dug the wrench out of his pocket, suddenly wishing she was otherwise occupied.

"I, uh, usually have some trouble opening it." he confessed, but her smile in reply helped soothe his embarrassment.

"Lemme see how you do it." she said.

Swallowing hard, he allowed her to watch him struggle to wrestle one of the bolts loose. When he moved the wrench to the next one, she placed her hand over his, adjusting his grip further away from the head.

"Try that."

Shockingly, the additional leverage helped greatly, and the thing slid loose much easier; he opened the last three in the same amount of time it had taken him to open the first, quietly proud of himself.

"Good job!" she praised, voice peaking high, correcting herself a bit when he tittered in reply. "Sorry, I'm doing the 'mommy voice' my siblings always complain about. I have terminal eldest sister syndrome."

"Well, I suppose that's bound to happen when you're one of four. Or six. Or whatever."

Again, she laughed heartily at his snark as he checked things off his own list.

"I dunno about six. I would like to have a baby, though." she said softly, suddenly studying the series of buttons on the side panel rather closely. "Someday, with the right person."

He nodded quietly, cheeks warm as his eyes flitted around the room. Typically, this was the moment he started to feel women really pull away, the moment when they started to really think about what they wanted for their future and remembered that it wasn't him. They'd sigh dreamily, fantasizing about their future families and staring off into space. However, when his gaze moved back to her, he found her staring straight into his eyes, like she was waiting for a response from him. It took him somewhat aback.

"How do you decide who the right person is?" he sort of stammered out.

She was thoughtfully quiet for a long moment.

"I think I'll just know, you know?"

"I can't lie, that's not a very satisfying answer." he half-joked.

His quip made her cackle for a moment, her weight swaying and leaning against the rail beside her.

"I know. I'm sorry." she laughed, wiping her eyes with the side of one hand. "Do you ever think about having any kids?"

"In theory." he chuckled.

"You're cute." she smirked, leaning in suddenly to plant a series of kisses along his jaw and mouth. The proximity instantly made his knees tremble, and for a brief moment, he stumbled back towards the edge himself.

Her arm wrapped around him protectively, yanking him against her side quickly, his boots squeaking across the catwalk.

"Careful, baby. You're just the right size to go flying under that railing if you try hard enough." she fussed, her grip on him surprisingly tight as she began to rise back to her feet, dragging him along with her.

"Sorry." he muttered, face hot once more in an equal mix of embarrassment and mesmerization.

"Let's get outta here."

The two rode back down in companionable silence, but when they reached the first floor of the actual Vault once more, she gave him a little kiss on the cheek, her eyes sparkling before the two went about the rest of their shifts solo. That night, she came to visit him in his room, a stack of different hacking and programming books tucked into her arms, and the two spent the evening talking about what he wanted to learn about the comms system...thoughts which were difficult to gather and articulate with the way she let her hand massage his thigh.

Lots of their alone time became tutoring time, something he enjoyed much more than he'd thought possible; she obviously enjoyed playing the teacher role, sharing her passion with him, and he loved seeing her flex her know-how. Sometimes she rewarded him for especially impressive performances with kisses, pressing closer than she ever had before, and it made him an ever more eager student.

Eventually, they worked their way up to messing around with real machines, and he was rather flattered when she dragged a unit in pretty bad disrepair all the way to her room so that they could work on it alone. For a few days, they reviewed the different parts, the basic build of the computer, and soon he was confident enough that he asked her to let him do some of the smaller repairs.

"This drive has to be replaced, but I've gotta finish rewiring some of the stuff around it real quick before we can. See?" she asked one evening, hovering close to him and pointing a flashlight into the dark guts of the thing. He nodded, half-confident that he knew what she meant, running a finger along the drive itself to feel where it slid into its place.

"Now, I've gotta turn off the power, so don't touch the--"

The rest of her warning went undelivered as the backs of his fingers brushed right along the frayed edge of one of the live wires, the feeling hot and sharp. He let out a pitiful little yelp as he yanked his hand back, clattering it along the plastic edge of the machine's casing, the burned spot flying to his mouth protectively.

"Aww, poor thing!" she said, reaching out to cut the power to the humming box before quickly moving into the bathroom to rummage around the first aid kit stuck to the wall. He pulled himself up onto his knees, cradling the hand that was paining him to his chest as hot embarrassment encased him.

"Lemme see." she said, cradling a cool rag, a roll of gauze, and a tin of burn ointment in her hand when she returned. She crouched down towards him, but he pulled back.

"It's fine."

She frowned at that, reaching out for his hand once more.

"Just let me look at it real quick." she insisted, her fingers touching his wrist.

"I said it's fine!" he said louder, pushing back and falling onto his rump once more as a result. The fall embarrassed him further, and a warm shock of anger passed through his gut. However, the heat of rage was quickly replaced by the heat of lust as she continued to clatter onto him, pinning his body with the weight of hers. Norm laid there, eyes wide and the rest of him frozen as she rested her ass flush against his hips, one hand wrapping around his other wrist and holding it in place as the other stuck out, empty and waiting to be given what she was demanding.

Slowly, he placed his stinging appendage into hers, and she smiled almost wickedly at his acquiescence.

"Good boy." she said, turning his palm towards the floor.

She might've said something else as a follow-up, but if she did, it was completely drowned out by the way those two words rang through his mind over and over again. He tried his best to focus on her first aid efforts, appraising the reddened back of his fingers, spreading and turning them gently in hers. Unfortunately for Norm, her soft, caring attentions only added more fuel to the fire that had already been smoldering in his gut from simply being in her presence. The problem only continued to increase as she wriggled ever-so-slightly in her move to reach for the supplies once more, the sweet curve of her full ass digging in right where he both wanted and did not need it. She briefly soothed him with the cold rag, and it was the only relief he was allowed. Before she'd even started to applying the little swatch of burn ointment to the reddened skin, he'd begun to grow hard, his eyes flitting to the ceiling in abashed panic.

Mercifully, she either didn't immediately notice his lack of control or was kind enough to ignore it, focusing on tending to the small burn he'd given himself. She didn't say much as she carefully cleaned the skin. At least, that's what it felt like she was doing; he didn't allow his gaze to leave the spot on the ceiling he was fixating on, willing his cock to go down before he both humiliated himself and disgusted her. But no matter how harshly he shamed himself, how hard he dug his teeth into the meat of his cheek and forced himself to think of unpleasant things, it was overridden by his physical excitement.

The way she never seemed to properly still didn't help at all.

"I don't think it really needs to be covered unless you want it to be." she said finally, delicately holding his hand and inspecting her own work absentmindedly. "What do you think?"

He struggled to formulate any sort of reply, but the way she was smirking ever-so-slightly at him when his eyes jumped to her face against his will told him that his silence was an adequate response.

"What's the matter, cutie? Cat got your tongue?" she asked, feigning innocence in that deliciously condescending way as her hand ran further behind her, down his flank and thigh until it found his growing erection, brushing it lightly. "Or is it this?"

"Uh." he let out a truncated groan at the sudden contact. "I'm sorry."

"What're you sorry for?"

Her question confused his scrambling brain, but the soft petting of her hand against him soothed him into placidity; clearly she wasn't offended, and he was content, though tense, to allow her to continue her experimental ministrations. Her face was almost eerily serene, watching him calmly as she teased him. Eventually, she paused the pets, feeling around until she was able to clench his lower zipper between her fingers, working the thing down until she was able to work her hand inside, gently fishing his cock out of his pants and stroking it in the relatively cool air. He was completely floored, convinced he was having an incredibly realistic wet dream, but the weight of her pressing him into the floor, the pressure of her hand around him was all too real.

"Pretty sure I never got the pair of panties I left here back. What'd you do with them?" she asked, her hand maintaining its cruelly slow pace and working him to full engorgement. He could've keeled over completely from sheer abashment in that moment, every nerve of his raw to the wind as she exposed him for what he really was. It had been so long since the incident that he'd assumed she'd forgotten about them. Subconsciously, his eyes flickered over to his bedside table, and her own gaze followed, a sadistic smile stretching across her features as she tightened her grip around him just slightly.

"You're lucky I can't get to them, or I'd shove them in your mouth." she whispered, leaning down so her lips brushed against his own with each syllable. "I bet you'd like that, though. Wouldn't you, you little perv?"

His stomach rolled and clenched as she built him up higher, her steady pace and commanding facade nearly smothering him with eroticism. Never even in his fantasies did he imagine her being like this with him, and he was instantly hooked. The tip of him, deep red in its engorgement, leaked generously, and he sprinted towards the finish as she let her hand pass over it.

"Fuck, fuck..." he whined, his hips bucking futilely under her weight, moving no further into her grip, gaining no additional friction along his aching length. "I'm so close."

"You'd better not." she said firmly, as if she were scolding him for trying to spoil his dinner with treats. Her tone made him groan, his entire face burning.

"Come on, honey. Don't you wanna be good for me?" she whispered, her lips brushing just right along the shell of his ear and sending shocks down his spine, already trembling from the loving way the pet name rolled off her tongue. He whimpered and cried out as he suddenly lost control, covering her hand in his cum as she continued to stimulate him through his overwhelmingly powerful orgasm.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I don't think I told you that you could do that, baby." she chastised, tightening her hand around him and stroking him faster, harder. The sensation against his sensitive cock was far too much, and he was quickly writhing and half-fighting back beneath her, his wide eyes filling with genuine tears as he pleaded for her forgiveness.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he begged, both desperate for her to stop and still rutting against her completely against his will. That seemed to sate her, however, as she gave him a few more hard strokes and then stopped completely, holding him tight at the base for a few seconds longer before releasing him, still leaned over and hiding most of his body beneath hers.

"Did you like that?" she asked, nibbling along the shell of his ear. He nodded pitifully in reply, most of his energy focused on not shuddering his way into more trouble, already more spent than he could ever recall being before. Her hands had become softer, the clean one petting across his chest affectionately.

"You really are lucky that I'm in a good mood today. I can be way meaner than that when I put my mind to it. It doesn't hurt that you're adorable when you beg." she grinned, and he swallowed back a groan at the remark as she used the rag she'd cast off to the side to clean herself before mopping up the errant dribbles that had splattered across his suit. It was fairly unnecessary, but she still took her time cleaning him up, her free hand scratching and petting his back and nape comfortingly as she sat curled up beside him.

He avoided her gaze at first, quite ashamed that she'd managed to unearth this desire of his that had never properly seen the light of day. However, her tender touch was a pleasant balm after how raw he'd been, and after a few minutes he was able to steal a glance at her, moving one hand to rest on her knee. Naturally, she was already watching him; however, he managed to keep his eyes on her face, not flinching away.

"You liked it? For sure?" she asked, less flirtatious and more serious.

He laughed openly at that, the sound throaty and weak as he still struggled to revive himself.

"For sure." he replied, and it seemed to make her relax a bit more, abandoning the rag on the floor and bringing both hands up to cup his face, holding it delicately. Her thumbs rubbed softly along his temples, and he let his lids slide shut

"Boy, you sure seem like you're enjoying yourself." she laughed playfully, his weight lilting further and further towards her touch.

"Shut up." he muttered jokingly, squirming just a bit, but unable and unwilling to pull away.

"You're gonna kick yourself so hard when I tell you that I've been trying to do that to you for months. Gotta quit playing so hard to get, MacLean."

"I dunno if I'd call it 'playing hard to get'." he replied, cracking an eye open at her once more.

Another inscrutable look passed across her features at that, but he wasn't given much time to study it as she leaned in and gave him a series of light pecks across the mouth, drawing a smile from him.

"Do you want me to...?" he asked.

"Oh, I definitely do, but we have places to be, unfortunately." she said, nodding towards the clock ticking away on the wall.

"Ugh."

"I agree, trust me." she sighed, pulling herself up before offering him her hand. "I'll put it on your tab."

His legs were wobbly as he tried to fully right himself, still clenching her hand until he felt he could stand fully. Even then, he hesitated to let go. They left for the town hall separately, his companion slipping out into the hall with a secretive little smile at him as she let the door fall shut behind her. The meeting was nothing special, weekly updates and a few mundane announcements that flew in one ear and out another, all free space in his mind occupied by thoughts of her soft hands on him, the way she'd spoken to him and commanded control of his body like she had. Her presence right across the aisle didn't help.

But, of course, his brain couldn't allow him to simply soak in his pleasurable encounter with a pretty woman; there also had to be a healthy dose of self-doubt and retroactive embarrassment that leaked in, making him worry that he'd made himself look foolish, desperate in front of her. Or worse, that she was playing some sort of game with him, using him to entertain herself while she waited for a proper guy to come along. It wouldn't be the first time he'd entered into an entanglement of questionable intent.

He knew that if he fixed his mouth to claim out loud that any woman, ever, had used him for sex, he'd be laughed out of the Vault. However, that didn't mean it wasn't true.

Most of the women he'd hooked up with in the past were married at this point, or had transferred out to try and luck their way into a spouse after finding their options at home rather unsatisfactory, himself included. But he'd always been at least a little surprised at how easy it was for him to find women who wanted to sleep with him...just as long as he didn't get any ideas about things going anywhere, that is. People in the Vault were prone to boredom in their confinement, and casual sex was a fairly widely accepted way to combat it. But there were only so many potential partners of the desired gender for each person, and that fact bolstered Norm's desirability considerably. Sometimes having the right equipment and not being related to the person was enough for the moment.

Norm was not a breeder, though; that much had been made perfectly clear to him from the first time he'd ever had sex. And sure, the hard, logical part of his brain understood why the women who were willing to sleep with him weren't necessarily eager to settle down or reproduce with him; he wasn't exactly the sort of man that his female peers had been raised to see as desirable. Though he didn't find himself ugly by any means, he was small, not very strong, and not exactly enthusiastic about many of the things that the average young Vault dweller prioritized in their lives. He considered himself a decent lover (when given the time of day, of course), but being able to show someone a good time during the actual act didn't seem to count for as much as he'd thought it might.

It was because of this that his past encounters had often ended rather suddenly, girls pulling away awkwardly when he seemed to toe too close to orgasm during actual sex, or making excuses to leave once he'd already taken care of their needs. Both stung, wounded his already often well-flogged ego, but the latter bothered him a hair less, purely because he didn't enjoy the idea of anyone going all the way with him simply because they felt obligated. He wanted to be wanted, and being with her was the first time he'd truly felt it in his life. She never shied away from his kisses, never acted as if his touch bothered her. When they fooled around, he never felt the invisible wall between them that he always felt with others.

One one hand, he was somewhat grateful to know with certainty that she wasn't just using him for sex. On the other, he felt like he was dying to be inside her. They saw one another almost every night, had intimate physical contact more often than not, but it never went further than a one-sided slam hit to third base. Though he ached for more, he was grateful for what he was given.

Somewhat gradually, the pair of them were more and more open about their relationship. Their evening study sessions continued, her manual motivation continuing in regular intervals until he'd built up some tolerance. Eventually, her lessons became more orally based. The increasing physical intimacy between them showed in how close they often stood, sat. Granted, they'd never really made efforts to hide how close they were becoming, but they'd reached a point where they sometimes held hands when they walked in the hall, attended more socials than not to dance and hold one another close. She even grew comfortable enough to swap seats in the meeting hall, inserting herself in the seat between he and Lucy one morning and drawing even more stares than he'd anticipated. Even Hank seemed to be staring down intensely at the two as he delivered his usual announcements.

That day's meeting dragged on longer than usual, and by the time the two gave one another a quick peck goodbye on their way out the door to their daily assignments, he could swear all the eyes on his back had burned holes in his suit. She was lingering around in the guts of the place for the day, trying to sniff out any weaknesses in the backup life support system. For his part, Norm had to go up top alone, back to inspect the same panel she'd kissed him at before. He was much less excited to do so without her company.

The ride up the rickety elevator was much more nerve-wracking solo, every little sound and weird vibration making him nervous that the blasted thing was about to fall back down the shaft. His posture stiffened even further for a moment when the elevator doors clunked open and he could make out another person at the far end of the catwalk, right up against the door, standing tall with their back to him. He relaxed momentarily when his eyes focused in on the standard-issue blue of a Vault suit, that golden 33 emblazoned on the back, but he felt himself tense again when he realized who exactly he was approaching.

Lieutenant Hall Monitor seemed to be completing some sort of security checklist, a clipboard of his own clutched in hand as he swept his gaze back and forth across the enormous hatch. His aura had been more tense than usual as of late, but this was the first time the two men had been entirely alone.

The guy had never demonstrated before that he cared about Norm's existence, but the way he glared back at him as he tried his best to give him a polite, acknowledging nod communicated new developments on that front. The relative silence, save for the usual hum and whir of uncovered machinery, only fueled the tension. He tried to shake off the nasty look, stopping halfway along the narrowest part of the walkway to check the same HVAC control panel as usual. Crouching down to pop open the face plate, adjusting his grip on the wrench just like she'd shown him, he was making relatively quick work of the whole thing, rushing to get the hell out of dodge and away from the oppressive awkwardness of the situation. Lunch with her would be a welcome way to unpack this ugly incident.

Down the path, the other man finished up his own work, jotting a few things down before ending with a test of the klaxon and light system that was tied to the door. The yellow lights fluttered to life and flashed, the shrill cry of the sirens splitting the air and drowning out every other sound. Noting him making his way back, the younger MacLean slowed his hands, drawing out his work so that the two wouldn't have to share a ride down in the elevator. Security was supposed to wait around until the full test cycle had completed, but Norm didn't necessarily blame him for leaving, between the headache-inducing sirens and the rancid vibe of the room.

As the silent, larger man passed by, though, Norm felt him lean out and check his side, causing him to stumble sideways from his squatted position and very nearly fall, his head sailing beneath the lower hand rail and dangling for a paralyzing beat over the open concrete pit that made up the body of the rest of the Vault; the terrified scream he let out was drowned out entirely by the still roaring klaxon. The fall had to be well over a hundred feet, and peering downwards into it, truly seeing it, his fingers aching sharply as he maintained his grip on the rebar railing, his head spun violently. Flinging himself back with all the strength at his command, he landed rather painfully on his side and temple along the walkway, panting and trembling. The wrench he'd been reaching for tumbled over the edge, not making an audible sound as it sailed to the floor far beneath.

The guy never even stopped, never looked back over his shoulder at the contact. It was only when the elevator doors opened and he stepped inside that he turned and looked at Norm again, his eyes full of absolute hatred as he glared him down, pinning him to the ground with his gaze until the doors slid shut. The alarm stopped a moment later, but the his ears continued to ring, his whole body limp and unresponsive as he laid there, too shocked to move. He didn't feel like he lost consciousness, but seemingly a split second later, a soft, strong pair of hands was trying their best to shake him awake.

"Norm? Norm!"

Her voice was distorted as he came back to himself, his head throbbing painfully

"Sweetheart, what happened? I've been looking for you. Your poor face!" she fussed, touching gingerly around his brow and sending him flinching away.

"Sorry I missed lunch." he replied quietly.

"Come on."

She helped him to his feet and back towards the elevator, holding him up as his head spun. The ride down was silent, heavy, and she helped him slowly make his way to the infirmary. The nurse examined him, checked him for a concussion and deemed him well enough before giving him something for his pain and leaving them alone, the curtain around his bed in the corner drawn tight. He'd told her that he'd fallen doing some repair work and she didn't ask many questions. His companion was silent the whole time, never leaving his side and rarely releasing his hand, but clearly deep in worried thought. Once they'd been left alone a few minutes, she finally spoke up.

"What really happened?" she asked.

He told her as best as he could remember, not mincing words.

"I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again." was her only response except scooting her chair closer to the bedside, both of her hands clasping tightly around his left one. He didn't know what to say to that, still a bit dizzy and rapidly growing sleepy from whatever analgesic he'd been given, so his only response was a mild squeeze to her fingers. Tottering in and out of sleep on the cot, he was vaguely aware of some commotion in the front of the infirmary a while later; though he could barely make out a lot of what was said, some of it filtered though, mostly the few sentences exchanged between a familiar male voice and that of the frustrated nurse.

"You need to let me look at your nose. Please, sit down." she demanded after the scuffling sound of a chair or table skidding a few inches across the floor, the screech of which woke him for a split second.

"Don't touch me. They'll look at it at home. " came the reply, followed by more scuffling and some cursing.

Part of Norm's brain registered the commotion and tried to force him to rise, but he was barely able to squirm as he rapidly fell back into unconsciousness. When he finally felt steady and awake enough to lift his head, he was alone. Checking his Pip-Boy, he confirmed he'd been asleep a few hours, and his legs were wobbly as he tried to right himself. The halls were quiet, abandoned as they usually were in the evenings as people settled in with those they cared about the most. Even the infirmary was empty, the lights all turned off save for a lamp on the reception desk. Some of the furniture was a bit ajar, some bloody tissues filling the trash can nearest the door as he moved towards it. Turning into the hall, he had to pause for a minute to get his bearings and remember which direction the dormitory was.

When the door to her apartment slid open, he found her sat at the dining table, suit tied back around her waist once more and a tired expression on her face as her dominant hand rested in a bowl of ice water.

"Hi." she said, her smile a little less effervescent than usual as he approached. "I was just about to come check on you."

Moving to stand beside her, he took in just how swollen her entire hand was, her knuckles already heavily spotted with black and deep blue. There was an angry tightness in his chest at the sight. Seeing her injured spread a sour taste through his mouth, pulling it into a deeper frown.

"You didn't have to do that for me." he said flatly.

"It wasn't for you. It was for me."

Norm was silent for a beat, his only response.

"Well, that's a fib. It was a little for you, too." she said, her words tinted with guilt. "You don't have to worry, though. He's going back to 32. Honestly, he's probably already gone."

He didn't know what else to say. He'd hurried to her as soon as he'd woken up, but now he had difficulty even looking at her without the rotted core of self-hatred that sat deep inside him screaming out. Every thought of his was tainted with the poison of how worthless he felt compared to everything she could be giving up to be with him. He wasn't worth literally fighting over.

"I'm gonna go back to my room and lie down."

Her brow furrowed strongly at that, and she quickly stood, pulling her dripping, blotchy hand from the water.

"Oh. Okay, sweetie. I'll walk you there." she said, worry leaking its way further into her tone and gaze.

He allowed her that, though he knew he didn't deserve her company, feeling lowly and pitiful as they walked in silence a few halls down and over from hers. When they reached his door, he stopped outside and looked at her.

"Thanks for walking me. I'm gonna get some rest."

She looked disappointed that he was essentially telling her to leave, but, as always, she respected him, nodding softly as her hand reached out towards him.

"Okay. I'll check on you tomorrow. I hope you sleep okay." she said, smiling as best as she could for him.

With that, she turned and made her way back to the short stairs, hesitating for just a moment to cast a glance at him over her shoulder. It made his chest ache, but he held himself back from going to her. All he wanted in that moment was to hide away from the overwhelming embarrassment and shame that threatened to smother him from every angle.

Stripping naked and throwing himself into bed, he winced as he attempted to lie on his usual side and felt the ache of the bruising along his cheek and eye rest against the pillow. He tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position or ignore the nagging pain in his face. Though he'd slept a while in the infirmary, it hadn't been of quality, and he was quickly exhausted again, his brain demanding rest and his body too uncomfortable to provide it.

Eventually, he managed to fall into a fitful, light sleep, but his overworked brain immediately threw him into a mix of hardly strung together, stressful thoughts, the image of dangling over that pit running over and over again before his eyes and sending him flailing back awake in a panic. He was coated in flop sweat, his hair damp as he trembled hard. His heart raced.

He was petrified, and he was alone.

Curling back up painfully under the blanket, he toed the awful line between resting enough to experience some sort of recuperation and staying awake enough to stave off the nightmares. Intermittently, he let his mind wander to where he really wanted to be: cuddled up against her chest as she held him through this.

At one point, near dawn, he nearly broke, nearly drug himself back to her, the knowledge that she would let him in even if she'd been dead asleep a massive temptation. However, she deserved better than to see him the way he was in that moment. When a more appropriate hour finally, blessedly arrived, he barely took the time to dress himself before hustling out the door, desperate to see her, to apologize for pushing her away even a little because of his own fragile ego. He was ready to give her all of himself, including the parts he wasn't so proud of.

However, he didn't quite make it there, as the moment his door opened, he was greeted by the sight of his father, leaning somewhat casually against the wall and smiling as he nearly ran right into him.

"Morning, son. Let's have a little powwow in my office." he said, clapping his hand across his thin shoulder.

Norm didn't protest, simply allowed himself to be pulled along on an almost entirely silent walk to the administrative wing. Multiple people greeted the older man as they passed by, many bidding for more time with him later. One or two attempted to initiate longer conversation with him as the pair walked, and Hank expertly delayed them, sending them away satisfied with a smile. The entire time, he hardly cast a look at his son, simply kept that hand resting on shoulder to ensure he didn't disappear.

Eventually, the two entered the large suite of connected spaces that made up the Overseer's office. He was guided into the chair directly across from the big desk, feeling smaller by the moment as his father slid into his own chair a few feet away.

"How're you feeling?" he asked after a pause.

"My face hurts, honestly. I didn't sleep very well. Dreamt I was falling." his son replied honestly, every nerve in his body raw in more ways than one.

"Aww, poor thing." the Overseer replied, and it was almost, almost like he was mocking him. "Hopefully you'll mend up soon."

Norm didn't have a fast enough response to that, and he quickly moved on.

"Well, as I'm sure you've heard, one of our newest security officers has decided to transfer back to Vault 32."

"I did hear about that." he replied carefully.

That earned him a smile, a correct answer in the bag.

"You understand the importance of what we're doing here. I know how smart you are. It's important that we utilize everyone we have to the best of their ability here, right?"

He nodded along obediently, his heart rate slowly ticking upwards.

"Well, we can't afford to lose good personnel over interpersonal drama."

There was a hard silence after that, Norm's brain overheating as he tried to reason away the realization that was beginning to dawn on him. He'd been brought here for a very specific reason.

Good personnel?

"I don't understand. I'm the bad guy here because that jerkoff decided he wanted to run off back home?"

That caused the first crack in his father's pleasant facade, his smile falling for a solid second before returning, softer, less applied.

"It's important that we all work to get along here. You know that. I simply cannot have you starting drama and getting into fights over girls. It's really not becoming of a young man in your position." his father said, delivery not unlike when he had to chastise the whole Vault for something, sympathetic but deeply detached.

"Fights? Drama? Dad, he tried to kill me."

"Oh, Norm. Now you're being a little dramatic, no?" Hank replied, his eyes actually rolling skyward at his son's claim.

"Absolutely fucking not! He pushed me and I very nearly fell! Check the cameras!" Norm shot back, his voice shooting up an octave in pure, shocked outrage.

"First of all, watch your mouth. I know I taught you better than that." his dad glared for a moment. "Secondly, I already checked them. I'm sure it felt very scary in the moment, but he bumped you, you over-corrected, and you fell down. It really is that simple, bud. I know it's embarrassing, but no one almost died."

"Dad, I know this whole thing's been a lot, but I don't think I've done anything wrong. Us being together won't cause any more issues, I promise." he shot back, face growing hot at the desperation leeching its way in.

"The two of you just aren't a good fit, kiddo."

"I don't think that's true at all." he refuted, nearly begging.

"And I understand that you believe that. Sometimes its hard to see the truth when it comes to ourselves."

His words stung more than the young man had previously thought anything could.

"So...you expect me to go break up with my girlfriend because you don't think we're a 'good fit'? That's the purpose of this meeting?" he asked, not stammering in his flustered state for once in his life. He stared straight into his father's face, unblinking, bolder than he'd ever been as his panic began to morph into blanked out anger.

The smile that touched Hank's lips once more was the same one he'd seen a million times since childhood; the one that had greeted him each morning, soothed his many worries, warmed his bad days. The one that had comforted him when his mother had died. But for the first time, he could see it clearly, that glint of scorn in his father's eye, and it was directed right at him.

"I expect you to do what's best for everyone, and I know that I've raised you to know what that is." the elder man said, rising once again from his place behind his desk and moving to seemingly tower over him. His tone was hard, final. "The purpose of this meeting is for me to tell you that I believe you'll do the right thing."

The grip of his hand around the smaller man's upper arm was shockingly painful, and he swallowed back a sharp complaint as he was basically dragged to the exit of the Overseer's work quarters. None of what was happening felt real as he was thrust back out into the hall.

"Talk to you later, kiddo. I've got work to do."

And with that, Hank MacLean allowed his office door to slide shut in his son's face.

Norm stood there in complete shock for a moment, half-expecting to wake up from this incredibly unsettling dream he was having any moment. But he didn't have that sort of luck. His boots felt like they were full of lead as he made his way towards her apartment; it was as if he was marching to his demise, walking the plank with a sword right at his back, and for the first time in his life it seemed as if everyone he passed stared at him. He absentmindedly wondered just how much everyone else knew, but a deep part of him knew his rumination to be completely useless; naturally, everyone probably knew everything the moment it happened.

Hesitating for a full minute, he actually knocked on her door, which she clearly found odd by the confused expression she wore when the thing opened. She had her suit tied down around her waist and her hair tied up in her usual leisure time style. Seeing her effortless beauty broke his heart.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, doing away with niceties as her heckles were clearly raised.

A second passed, then two, and he still couldn't force himself to speak.

"What's going on, Norm?" she asked, her voice full of worry.

The words wouldn't come, neither the ones he was supposed to say, nor the ones he truly wanted to. He tried his hardest to force them forward, to stop being so fucking scared, but it was as if his jaw was rusted shut. A light sweat glistened on his brow.

"Come in, hon." she said quietly, moving to his side and placing her hands softly on his shoulders, steering him in through the doorway and guiding him over towards the couch that was almost identical to his. She clasped his hands in hers and he tried to handle her bruised appendage carefully as they both sank down onto the broken-in cushions. She didn't prompt him to say or do anything else, patiently sitting in the somewhat tense silence as he tried to collect himself, and he stared hard right into the face of the woman who was trying to comfort him, the woman he loved. The one he'd been sent here to end things with because he simply did not deserve her. He felt as much as he took in the disquiet in her eyes, the concern for him and his wellbeing that he hadn't seen for even a moment from his own father.

She caught his gaze for a moment as it danced around the room in panic, and the worried look that painted her face sent his stomach dropping like a stone in guilt. It was all too much, and suddenly he was sobbing, his vision quickly blurred with tears and then completely obscured by his hands coming to cover his face in shame.

Of course he was crying. He couldn't grow enough of a spine to tell his father what he really thought, nor could he suck it up enough to just fall in line and do what he was told. Instead, he did nothing; his life felt like it was suddenly and totally falling apart around him, and all he could do was fucking cry.

"Hey." she murmured, almost immediately pulling her hands away so she would wrap her arms around him.

The plush mass of her breasts against his chest cushioned him as she patted at his back, the familiar smell of her encompassing him, his racing heart slowing just a touch. Norm shifted himself a bit, unconsciously leaning closer, drawn towards her warmth and almost maternal softness. As he moved, the building pressure in his gut was suddenly brought to his attention, and searing humiliation washed over him. The feeling didn't improve when she petted at the back of his head tenderly, pressing his face further into her neck. The heat from his cheeks must have been palpable to her, he thought, burning against her skin.

For an indeterminate number of minutes, she let him fuss and sniffle without a word, and eventually the world felt a little less like it was literally about to end, a small, hot coal of embarrassment firing up in his core. Displacing, he pressed a few soft kisses along her shoulder, and she hummed approvingly. His face was the perfect height to fit into the crook of her throat, and he drank in her smell greedily as his lips sealed themselves to the warm skin there. A surprised gasp left her, trailing off into an airy moan as his tongue began to massage the flesh in his mouth; the sound made his cock jump, and he was suddenly, intensely aware of just how hard he really was. With a finger under his chin, she guided his mouth up to hers and kissed him deeply. Their bodies were pressed as close as possible in their fight to claim one another's mouths, and his entire being felt hot with embarrassment at the way his erection was suddenly grinding into her stomach, but he couldn't pull himself away from her.

Besides, the way she led his hands to her breasts, squeezing them over the soft masses until he was mimicking her motions and moaning as he did, told him she didn't mind.

He was eternally grateful that he didn't have to wrestle with her upper vault suit, far too worked up to navigate the zippers and snaps. The white undershirt she wore was quickly rucked up; the exposed skin of her lower throat and chest drove him mad, her torso completely bare save for the beige-colored, standard brassiere she wore beneath. Lost in the fever pitch of their kisses, he felt bold enough to push the thing out of the way, crowding it up towards her collarbones along with her shirt hem. She cried out as the band caught over her peaked nipples, and the sound made him hum deeply in his throat, his head dropping heavily to her chest.

She had much larger areolas than he'd imagined she would, and something about that little surprise really turned him on, the darkened circles standing in delicate contrast against the rest of her chest. The skin was velvety against his tongue, and it made him greedy, sucking the entire tip of her breast into his mouth harshly. That earned a sharp whine from her, and it made him pull back just a hair's breadth. The sound she'd made was incredibly sexy, but he didn't relish the idea of hurting her.

Time as an overall concept was lost to Norm as he hovered over her, trying his best to not let his bony appendages dig into her soft body as he lathed her entire chest in attention, sucking and nipping and rubbing softly, the warm globes large enough to fill each of his hands entirely. She relaxed back onto the couch fully, elevated up against the arm just enough to watch as he bathed her with his mouth, cooing and scratching his scalp gently. The sensation of her nails on him made him throb even harder, and he moaned around the nipple in his mouth.

Eventually, though, her hands slipped down from his head and rubbed affectionately across his chest; it took him a surprisingly long time to fully process that she was working his suit open, struggling with the intricate inner snaps just like he would've. He tried his best to hold himself up enough that her hands could reach between them, but that was all the aid he was able to offer. Eventually, she succeeded, pulling the zipper down as far as his navel, reaching inside and running her nails along his chest, scraping between his pectorals through the sleeveless shirt he wore beneath.

Electricity running along his spine once more, he kicked his boots off, the heavy things clattering to the floor as he pulled himself down onto the dense rug as well, scooting towards the couch. He encouraged her to sit back up, his hands tugging at her waist until her tailbone rested along the edge of the frame, her thighs encasing his small frame. Lifting her leg with her help, he ran his lips along her inner thigh, drawing a licentious giggle from her as she squirmed at the ticklish sensation, wriggling her way down a bit further so she could lift her hips towards him, watching him closely as he continued to tease her.

Well, truth be told, it wasn't entirely teasing. Part of it was, sure; it was pretty addictive to be the person getting to touch and taste her, to be the one drawing the sounds she was making out of her. He'd been at her mercy so many times, and it was empowering to have turned the tables, at least for a moment. But, at the same time, part of his brain was also simply short-circuiting at being given the access to her body that he'd been literally dreaming about for months.

"Ah, fuck." she breathed as he let his lips ghost over her mound, over the incredibly damp gusset of her underwear, both of them shuddering. His head was already spinning as he was immersed deep in the familiar, concentrated musk of her, and he was unable to hold himself back much longer, fingers moving to pull the cloth to the side. Hesitating only a moment, letting his warm, harsh breath blow across her already swollen clit, her entire body was tense as he first let his tongue peek out to taste her.

Whimpers rang out from her as his tongue softly traced over her most sensitive place, lapping at her carefully as he spread her open a little more, slipping his tongue further into her folds. She gasped, her hips slowly beginning to rock. Her movement drove him crazy, and his self control teetered on the edge as a result.

Licking her greedily, desperate for more, he tried his best to tug her as close as he could get her. Fortunately, she registered this desperation, her free hand moving to press gently, but firmly, into the back of his head, smothering him just right between her thighs. Thanks to the taste of her, her reactions, and the increasing lack of oxygen, his erection was throbbing rapidly, trapped painfully between his suit leg and his thigh. The hand that wasn't occasionally playing with her clit moved to press at it, relieving some of the unbearable pressure that was building as he slowly stroked himself back and forth over the fabric. His partner was far too busy bucking her hips into his face to notice, the hand on the back of his head pressing him harder and harder to her cunt as she basically rode his nose, the tip and far end of the bridge slipping slickly back and forth across her swollen bud. He made absolutely no move to resist or readjust, only lapping at what he could reach as she rode closer and closer to her climax. His tongue slid back towards her puckered second hole, pulling a sharp giggle from her as he stroked the tip along the quivering ring of muscle.

During their past trysts, it had been rare for her to be the receiving partner. Whether that was because she didn't feel comfortable in that role, or because she felt very comfortable being the one in control, he had been unable to discern. She had occasionally rubbed herself along his thigh or crotch when they'd messed around, but he'd always perceived that as less of a way to make herself feel good and more of a way to tease him. Now, though, she eagerly welcomed whatever he was willing to offer her, both of them working in narrowly-focused tandem towards their shared goal.

"Just like that." she sighed, sharp and airy, tensing noticeably as he sealed his mouth over her and lapped at the same spot repeatedly with the tip of his tongue.

Norm tried his best to avoid speeding up or losing his rhythm in the wave of excitement he felt at knowing he was pleasing her, taking as deep a breath in as possible as she continued to smother him between her thighs. His cock ached almost oppressively as she bore down on him harder, harder, until suddenly she let out a quiet gasp, hips and abdominals twitching hard as the taste of her grew stronger in his mouth.

It seemed like she wriggled and whimpered for a long time, but the lack of oxygen to his brain may have simply made it feel that way. Every fiber of muscle in his body burned with the effort of keeping himself in his spot, continuing the same motions until she stopped him with a soft palm.

"Fuck, Norm." she sighed, smiling as her head fell lax behind her.

He snapped out of his place on the floor at that, like a well-trained dog given a clear command. He was almost aware enough to be embarrassed at the way he pounced on her, trying his best to not trample her completely as he pulled himself back up onto the couch, the frame giving out a little strained squeak at the sudden addition of his weight. Sealing his lips back to her throat, now slicked and salty with sweat, he guided her down onto her back, flat on the cushions, and she followed his lead, her still-watery eyes shining excitedly.

Norm wrestled his sleeves down, shucking his suit to the waist and cramming it down to his hips; her feet came up along his flanks and pushed the thing the rest of the way towards his ankles. As he kicked the mass of cloth to the ground, her fingers played along the waistband of his underwear, teasing ticklishly along until they slipped beneath, grasping his erection softly and making him moan rather loudly as his last garment was wrestled out of the way.

He was too aroused to be all that self-conscious about being completely naked in front of her, something that was not common practice for him. Instead, he was entirely focused on the breathtaking view before him, her plush body laid out before him, basically begging for him just like he'd dreamed about again and again. Goosebumps were still raised along her arms as she shifted a little, moving to pull off her own remaining bit of coverage. Something moved him to cover her hands with his own, and together they slid her panties down to her ankles, Norm working them the last few inches past her feet and dropping them to the floor.

"I want those ones back, perv." she teased, and he laughed earnestly as he lowered himself down to kiss her again.

"You're so beautiful." he whispered.

Both of them groaned when the tip of him first nestled up against her, the heat of her folds even more intense than he'd ever imagined. Letting himself indulge in a bit of his own teasing, he rocked his hips back and forth, allowing his cock to bump and nudge against her puffy clit. Unfortunately, he lacked the determination to draw out the turnabout he was attempting to give her, and quickly he was reaching between them to seek out her opening.

"Yes, yes, yes..." she breathed over and over like an elated prayer when he began to apply pressure with his hips in just the right place.

He wanted so badly to bury himself to the hilt inside her in one swift move, but he fought hard to resist the urge, pressing about halfway inside before pulling back, gently pistoning himself deeper until he was buried as far as her body would allow him to go. A deep, long-held breath escaped his lungs, his spinning head falling weakly towards her shoulder as he allowed them both a moment of adjustment; he was afraid of accidentally hurting her somehow in his excitement, but most of his worry stemmed from the fear of losing control long before he was ready and embarrassing himself. The latter possibility loomed larger over him than the former as her strong, pliable body wriggled beneath him.

She was almost eerily silent as he carefully shifted the bulk of his weight from knee to knee, but he found himself afraid to steal a glance at her face. His heart raced at the at the feeling of her around him, at the fear that any moment she'd come to her senses and reject him at last. But her softly calloused hands smoothed their way up the planes of his back, wrapping themselves up under his arms and coming to rest atop his narrow shoulders, holding him close against her. That little bit of affection was enough to ease his nerves, and he allowed his hips to move a little faster as a result.

"Mhm." she grunted as he slowly began to fuck her properly, keeping his face mostly hidden in the crook of her neck in trembling concentration. That one small sound spurred him on, hands moving to softly grope at her breasts and tummy, the plush flesh in his hands making him throb hard inside her. Soon, she was letting a whole litany of sighs and whimpers loose, each sound vibrating its way down his spine and leaving his grasp on his self-control tenuous. He tried in vain to pull back from her a bit, sucking in fresh air by the lungful, but he was already lost in her, melting at the way she clung back to him, fluttering around him and making him whine.

She nuzzled up under his chin in response, made him feel substantial and masculine and desired, and it only made it more difficult to govern himself, his grip digging so hard into the arm rest of the couch above her head that his fingers ached, using the leverage to fuck her as forcefully as his small frame would allow him to. The woman beneath him let out a guttural grunt at that, her hands flying to his back, nails digging into his sparse flesh in an attempt to steady herself. The stinging trail of pain that her touch left bloomed down his spine and only spurred him on harder, the hand that wasn't tearing into the couch arm moving between them to roll her throbbing clit between his fingers. Quickly, that stimulation had her huffing along with him, their bodies hot and sticky against one another.

"Shit, I'm--" he muttered as she arched her back high and hard.

"Yes!" she gasped, her hips grinding even more passionately against his and tightening the knot that was growing at his core. Mesmerized by her tear-filled eyes and pouty lips, he dropped his mouth back to hers and they kissed one another breathless. Just before he tipped over the edge into his orgasm, he yanked himself back, fisting his slick cock fast and hard until he exploded all over her, painting her soft tummy and inner thigh with spurt after spurt of his warmth. She whimpered at the feeling, fingers rubbing harsh circles around her clit until she was spasming hard.

The heat of her sweat-slicked, nude body encompassed his own as he laid himself softly against her in the afterglow, her rumpled hair soft against his face, his head tucked up underneath her chin. The small apartment was quiet for a long moment, both of them trembling as they tried to slow their heavy, rapid breaths. He braced himself for her to pull away, to cover herself and shut him out, but she didn't move outside of pulling herself into a sitting position beside him, his head on her shoulder.

"I really like you." he said suddenly, the words materializing almost out of nowhere.

"I really like you, too." she replied, running her hand softly, lovingly up and down his bare back.

For a few minutes, no one said anything more, both simultaneously enjoying the glow and worrying away about the still-concealed source of tension.

"So." she said eventually, playing distractedly with his dampened hair, "Are you gonna tell me what you came down here for?"

Despite the lingering heat between their bodies, Norm felt himself break into goosebumps at her query. He forced himself to look at her, steeling himself against the anguish that was still stirring, sour and potent, in his gut. There would be consequences for this, and he knew it.

"My dad pulled me into his office and advised me to tell you that we can't see each other anymore." he spat out so quickly that it was almost unintelligible.

For an extended moment, her only response was silence. She didn't even blink.

"What are you thinking about that advice?" she asked, her face unreadable. Though he sort of expected her to ask why, she did not. He didn't know how it made him feel.

"Well, 'advised' is doing a lot of work in that statement." he replied with some levity.

She laughed at that, seemingly despite herself.

"Norm." she said simply, her tone firm. She refused to let him joke his way out of discussing his feelings and it made him squirm in his place.

"I don't want to stop seeing you."

That made her smile, but he could still see something off in her gaze as she scooted a bit closer to him, their bare hips touching.

"I don't wanna stop seeing you, either." she sighed. "But honey, I don't wanna cause any problems between you and your dad. It'd tear me up."

"Eh, my dad is used to me not doing what he wants. One more disappointment won't be that much of a surprise." he replied, trying his best to make himself believe it, too. True, Hank had watched his son fail to meet his expectations his whole life, but he'd never been openly defied like this. The younger man had no basis to determine how his father might react.

"Well, good." she smiled, and it almost seemed as if she was buying his bluster. "I'm too stubborn to actually stop seeing you, anyway."

"Same."

Things fell into silence again after that, the two young people cuddled up close on the couch that had probably been used by ten different people, a slight chill setting in as the heat of their activity slowly began to wear off.

"Quite the mess you've made here." she mused eventually, her fingers sliding through the rivulets of him that cut across her belly and slid into the crease of her inner thigh. The sight made his gut tighten again instantly.

"Sorry about that." he mumbled sheepishly. "I didn't know if--"

"It's fine."

She cut him off with a sweet kiss, pulling him against her breast for a moment as she held him tight. His pulse raced at the affection, the intimacy she was willing to share with him, and it drove him to press back just as enthusiastically.

Of course, there was an ugly little nugget of worry, as well, one that soured his stomach as it turned over and over in his mind, distracting him as she massaged the base of his skull, her other hand clasping his. What if she was only choosing him because everyone else wanted her to do otherwise? What if she only liked him so much because he lacked every quality she'd been told was important? What if he was her big "screw you" to the rest of the Vault and their expectations?

It was something he might do, frankly, if he found himself in her position.

"I really am sorry about tearing your back up, honey." she murmured, pulling him a few degrees away from his worries and leaning close enough to peer over his shoulder at his nagging wounds, laying a kiss or two along his shoulder.

"Don't stress about it. I kind of liked it." he grinned, turning his head quickly to place a soft peck on her cheek in return, his whole body trembling a bit as he pulled away.

"Still, I'm sure they hurt." she smirked.

"Eh, not much. The ones on my ass sting a little..." he said, mostly joking.

"No! Did I really get you that bad? Let me look."

"Aht, aht, aht." he chided playfully, wrapping his arms around her waist to keep her in place. "Don't worry about it. I'm enjoying you where you are, if I'm honest."

That made her grin, wide and filthy and just a little silly, and she leaned down to press her swollen lips against his own, clamoring just a bit further into his lap. It started out sweet, simple pecks whose crisp sound split the air between them, but she quickly began to linger, their kisses growing longer and more deliberate. Soon, they were back to trying to consume one another, her hips grinding against against his sensitive nether regions as her legs framed him on either side.

He almost protested when she reached between them and gripped his half-soft cock, embarrassed at his flaccidity and the sound he made, but he was just hard enough that she was able to sink down on him almost completely. Another whimper escaped him at the feeling of her tight heat around his too-sensitive cock once more, and he buried his face in her chest in a desperate move to muffle it. She chuckled, hands cupping the back of his head with a light touch as she began to grind softly back and forth on top of him once again, the stimulation only making him swell more.

"You're gonna have to keep up with me, cutie." she murmured into his ear as her teeth slid along the shell, making him fully tremble and harden even further. He moaned loudly at the sensation, burying his face in her chest for another beat.

"I can certainly try." he huffed in joking reply, his own hips beginning to find a rhythm beneath her.

He'd been afraid that he'd been too hard on her with the pace and force of his thrusts when he'd been on top, but the way she fully slammed herself down onto him, making it difficult to properly fuck back up into her, dispelled those worries for the most part. She was putting on quite the show; whether for his benefit or purely for hers, he couldn't really tell, but he certainly wasn't going to waste what little brainpower he had access to pondering it too hard. Instead, he enjoyed watching her pinch and roll her nipples between her thumb and forefinger, alternating between each breast with one hand, the other preoccupied playing with her clit. Moaning low and quiet, she rocked harder and harder on top of him, quickly working herself into a whining lather. One particular pinch must've felt especially good, as she clenched around him hard and began to quiver, the hand that wasn't playing with her folds fisting hard in his hair.

With that, he followed her into that blinding haze, his hips trapped beneath hers as they bucked and jerked out completely out of his control, fingers digging little craters into her plush hips as he whimpered out his end. His second orgasm was somewhat weaker than the first, but it still reduced him to a limp mess as his head lulled back against the rounded couch back, his eyes trained on hers as she followed, her fingers playing fast and harsh against her slit as she tensed. The way her body tightened and gripped around him as she came made him cry out in overstimulation, and she let out a little chuckle as she leaned down to kiss him deeply, swapping the lingering taste of her back and forth along their tongues as he emptied himself completely inside of her.

The two paused, her sweaty forehead against his as they smirked serenely at one another.

"C'mere." she panted, digging her legs in behind him and flipping the both of them so she was on her back once more, holding him. Her strength made him blush, the heat running up into his scalp in little prickles. There was a lengthy silence as they laid there, wrapped up in one another's shaky, slick arms, him resting along her chest and soaking up her heat through every possible inch of his body, right down to the way he remained sat deeply into the silken clench of her still-fluttering cunt. Norm knew that there was no certainty in how tomorrow would go; the only certainty was in this moment, wrapped in her arms and buried inside her. The comfort he felt was too good to end, and he let himself go fully lax, his head coming to rest along her sternum, nestled in the warmth between her breasts as she wrapped her arms around his torso, letting her hands play softly in his hair as his eyelids slowly slid shut.

For a short while, he fell into inky, dreamless sleep, though a light one. There was no falling, no jolting back into cold, trembling consciousness with a racing heart. No tears. He could still hear the clock ticking along somewhere in the back of his mind, the white noise of the air filtration system. The rise and fall of her chest beneath him was steady and slow. Eventually, he heard her mumble something to him.

"I think you're falling asleep." she said.

"I think you're falling asleep." he shot back, jesting, voice thick with sleep as he forced himself to sit up most of the way. His vision was bleary for a moment as he took in her peaceful expression, the little red mark on her chin where it had been resting against the top of his head.

"Nah, I'm just thinking."

Hesitating for a beat, perfectly content to live the rest of his life settled between her thighs, he withdrew gently, swallowing back a grunt at the loss of the warm clench of her around him. His lover sighed, arching her back in a small stretch. Silently, he reached down with a steady hand to pet at her inner thigh, awkwardly but affectionately. Her hand rested carefully on top of his, her thumb stroking at his skin.

Norm's eyes danced all along her body, drinking in the beauty of her one more time before she inevitably put her clothes back on, before things grew more complicated and precarious. A jagged breath caught in his chest when his gaze landed between her legs, taking in the swollen folds peeking out at him, the glint that hinted at a hidden mess. Watching him, she parted her legs a few inches wider so he could look closer, her fingers moving to grip the flesh of her inner thigh. He sighed out a soft groan as a thin trickle of pearlescent stickiness ran from her opening, following the curve of her ass.

Frozen in place, he could feel his grip on her leg tightening as her fingers slid down further, slipping through the stickiness audibly. Her eyes didn't leave his as she curled those fingers inside of herself, pressing what he'd given her back where he'd laid it. His breathing ceased entirely for a moment as he watched her, head spinning at the implications of her actions. When she finished, she leaned forward to capture his lips in maybe the most tender kiss they'd ever shared.

"Wanna go talk to your dad?" she asked when she pulled away, wiping her soiled fingers across her stomach.

The familiar tug of cowardly panic in his chest was instantaneous, an icy stab straight behind his breastbone. But for once, his fear didn't consume him, freeze him uselessly as things unfolded around him. Something about her presence, the tender way she looked at him, held him, let him love her with no shame, quelled his worry into nothing but a quiet thrum in the background. The ache was present, but not enough to stop him from doing what he knew he had to. His hand didn't tremble as he offered it to her, helping her to her feet.

"Let's go."

#can you tell I've been thinking about heavy petting a lot lately?#norm maclean #norm maclean smut #norm maclean x reader #norm maclean x female vault dweller #fallout prime #fallout tv show #submission

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clowningaroundmars · 7 months ago

Text

heeyyy yaaalllll

so i was thinking to myself, i love punkflower. i really do.

what if there was a hobie in miles' universe and he didnt have to do the whole long distance relationship across dimensions thing, though? just keep his lil secret crush on spiderpunk a secret and keep it pushing, only to literally bump into his own hobie brown in 1610 one day?

wouldnt that be cool, guys?

wouldnt it? :)

wouldnt :) it :) be :) so :) cool? :) and so cute too?

update: >part 2 here<

Miles was late.

It was his first day back, the very beginning of his junior year at Visions Academy and he was late. God damn.

His parents were really gonna kill him this time, no doubt about it. There weren't even any good Spiderman excuses he could use to weasel his way out of getting into trouble this time! He'd just have to cross his fingers and pray that his chemistry teacher for this year wasn't a total hardass like last year's English teacher.

Maybe he could make up some dumb excuse this time, try to wriggle his way into the professor's good graces with some blatant lie. Anyways, whose dumb idea was it to put him in a class so damn far from the entrance doors so early in the mor--

BRRRRRRING!

Miles tore around a corner just as the final bell rang throughout the mostly-empty hallways, inciting panic in his chest and making him nearly launch himself down another hallway just to get to his class.

In his haste, he nearly knocked over a very tall and very... familiar looking person that happened to be in Miles' trajectory. Luckily, bodies didn't end up colliding but the shock of having a person fly so quickly into their line of sight shocked the both of them into skidding to a sudden stop.

The tall person ended up dropping a textbook and what seemed like an enormous packet of papers, because sheets scattered absolutely everywhere, almost like snow.

Ugh. Of course.

They both stared down at the mess in the middle of the hallway floor for a beat.

Then, Miles exhaled a laugh, shaking his head.

"Aw man, I-I'm sorry! I just uh... here, lemme just--"

They both bent down to quickly scoop up the papers as Miles stuttered and spoke a hundred miles a minute, trying to apologize for the heart-stopping scare he caused. Just as Miles shuffled the papers together in his hands, he finally looked up at the unlucky student he almost football-tackled first thing in the morning... and nearly dropped the papers onto the floor again.

Kneeled right in front of him with papers and a textbook tucked under a skinny arm, long fingers nervously plucking up what was left of the rest of the packet, was none other than... Hobie Brown.

Oh. God.

This Hobie didn't seem to be Miles' Hobie, though.

(Miles' temperature rose a bit as he quickly thought: wait, my Hobie? That's not right, either.)

Instead of large freeform locs that tapered off like wicks, he was sporting long uniform locs that were piled up high in a loose ponytail on his head, most likely due to the school policy that stated boys needed to have hair above the nape of their neck. Miles kinda wondered about that policy, if he ever decided to grow out his hair; would pulling his hair up be enough? Or would they police his hair length and force him to cut it all off?

Well, turns out the answer was literally right in front of him. Another shock to the system right after the first one.

That was Miles' excuse, really. It was just so dang early in the morning and he really really wasn't thinking when he opened his mouth and basically shouted "Hobie?!"

It honest to god sounded like it echoed in the hallway.

He slapped a hand over his mouth, immediately chastising himself for the stupid mistake he made, mentally kicking himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid!! He wasn't supposed to know this guy obviously, they hadn't even met in their dimension yet!

Hobie, for his part, didn't seem perturbed by this at all though. He took the papers from Miles' hands and straightened himself back up to his full height, offering a hand so that Miles could stand up too.

He shrugged shyly and hid behind a couple locs that happened to fall back into his face, holding the books and papers closer to his chest.

"Uhmmn yeah, sorry. I-I'm runnin' late to my first class so I can't really give any autographs right now. Maybe later... if we see each other, ok?"

Miles blinked owlishly. Did he just say... autographs?

And wait a minute... was this Hobie... American?

Miles' poor little sleep-deprived mind was being blown again and again. He really didn't know if he was ever going to recover from this.

Hobie started to back up and walk away so Miles held his hands up to stop him. "Wait wait wait, autographs? I'm not uh-- sorry, this is weird," he laughed, rubbing his neck. "Nah, man. That's cool. I don't really want any autographs. Are you uh-- are you famous, actually?"

It was this Hobie's turn to blink owlishly now, hesitating a bit. A non-pierced eyebrow was raised as he said, "I... I kinda am...?"

He turned and pointed out the giant window of the hallway that they happened to be standing by, and Miles craned his neck to peer outside.

It smacked him right in the face once his eyes landed on it: a giant billboard fixed atop a neighboring building that depicted Hobie Brown in a luxurious-looking perfume ad. He sported the same locs as he did in real life, wearing shiny-looking makeup and giving the viewer the fiercest, smokiest look Miles has ever seen from a model in a hot minute. He was clutching deep purple satin, wrapped in it, basking in it. A single perfume bottle with a deep purple bow on the neck was photoshopped next to him, matching the overall vibe of the ad.

Miles was rooted to the spot, absolutely gobsmacked. How in the world did he miss that?!

Distantly, a small echo of a conversation he had in what seemed like a lifetime ago floated up from a memory. "I was briefly a runway model" pulsed in his neural pathways for a quick second.

Slowly, the gears started turning in his head. Slowly, he turned back to his dimension's Hobie Brown, who was giving him a strange sort of look.

Miles awkwardly tried to gather himself up, waving his hands around as he struggled for a non-weird explanation to his very weird behavior.

"I-I mean-- ahahaha! Yeah I mean, obviously you're famous! I was just y'know-- playin' with you. Pulling your leg and all that, I guess... heh."

The strange dubious look on Hobie's face didn't budge. "...Right."

Miles coughed conspicuously, trying to change the subject. "But uh yeah, haven't seen you around this school much then! Are you... you in a different grade than me or...?"

The corner of Hobie's mouth twitched suddenly, and for a split second Miles wondered if he said something wrong.

But then Hobie chuckled a bit. "No, I don't think so? This is my first day here. Like... ever. So I'm not really surprised you haven't seen me before. I just transferred over."

Miles practically sighed in relief and nodded, hands in his pockets. "Right! Right, very cool. Welcome to Visions then, I guess. Uh... I'm Miles! Miles Morales. Nice to meet ya!"

He goofily stuck a hand out, which Hobie actually accepted. They shook hands for a second, and then Miles was suddenly taken aback by how cold his hand was against his own skin. It was a definite contrast to the warm and lanky body he remembered practically draped across his own, back in Mumbattan.

He forced those particular memories away for now.

This Hobie was smiling down at him, sad eyes set inside a seemingly genuine expression of fondness. "Cool. I'm Hobie. But, uh, it seems like you already knew that, so."

"Aha, yeah yeah! It just-- honestly it's just the shock of, uh, running into a major celeb in the middle of my school that really got to me, I think. Sorry. I probably look like a total weirdo right now!"

Hobie shook his head, and Miles took the opportunity to really study this guy now that the shock was over and the vibe was more chill. This Hobie was just as long and lanky as the punk anarchist Miles was already well acquainted with, but he held himself completely differently. Where Spider-Hobie was all confident strut and careless swagger, this Hobie seemed to be all reserved grace and... sadness? He definitely reminded Miles of a willow tree drooping down into a lake, beautiful but tragic at the same time.

Okay Miles, get it together, he thought, stop thinking this guy is beautiful. I mean, he is beautiful yeah... but c'mon man, focus!

Hobie's non-pierced lips were moving now, finishing a sentence that Miles most definitely did not catch.

Then, Hobie looked at him expectantly.

Oh shit. He just asked a question didn't he? Fuck.

"Uh, sorry... one more time?" Miles grinned as wide as he could, apologetic. Nice going, Morales, the humorless voice in his head chimed in. Definitely not convincing this guy you're an alien from outer space or anything!

Hobie huffed a laugh and cleared his throat. "Sorry, my fault. Sometimes I mumble and... yeah. Mom says I need to work on that," he sighed, then continued, "I was just wondering if you knew where room 301 was?"

Miles nearly jumped with the force of the realization that just hit him.

"301? Mr. Moriarty's class?"

"Y-yeah, that's the one," Hobie smiled, twirling a loc on one finger and tugging it a bit. Then he tucked it back behind his ear. "I'm actually so lost it's not even funny, I'm godawful at directions and like, navigating. I've been looking for it for like 20 minutes now--"

"That's where my first class is too! AP chem!"

Hobie seemed to brighten up a bit at that, straightening his posture up from his own self-conscious hunch. "Oh cool! We should probably get going then, if we don't wanna be more late than we already are."

Without thinking, Miles places a hand on Hobie's shoulder and steers them both towards a classroom right at the end of the hallway they were in.

"Of course, right this way! Pretty lucky you ran into me, huh? I can help you find your other classes later on if you want, too."

For the first time since nearly crashing into him, Miles looked up at Hobie and saw genuine happiness in his eyes as they grinned at each other and walked down the hall together.

"...Yeah," Hobie said, nodding slowly. "Yeah that'd be pretty cool. Thanks!"

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Their chemistry teacher ended up not being a total hardass after all! Especially when Miles rolled up with none other than Famous Model Hobie in tow, immediately causing a ripple of whispers amongst the students sat at their desks.

Mr. Moriarty was a short and stumpy old man with a kind face and a severely receding hairline. He took one look at Hobie after squinting at his attendance sheet, accepted Miles' quick explanation that they were late because Hobie's minty fresh enrollment got him all lost in these maze-like hallways, and excused their tardiness with a wave of a hand.

"It's the first day and you were very kind to help a new student out, Mr. Morales. You're both excused for today, but try not to make a habit of it, alright?"

Miles bobbed his head as he picked his way past rows of desks. "Absolutely, sir. No problem at all. Thanks a bunch!"

Hobie stuck close to him, and smiled a bit as the only two desks left empty in the whole room happened to be right next to each other, right up in the back of the class. Nice.

They took their seats and exchanged a couple of glances as they pulled out their notebooks, barely listening to their professor's quick introduction and class syllabus. Well, Miles was barely listening, anyways. He was too caught up in the euphoria of running into a dimensional variant of one of his friends, in Visions Academy no less! His mind started to wander a bit. Did a 1610 Gwen exist too? a 1610 Pavitr? Were they also here at Visions? And what was with these random stares he and Hobie were getting from their fellow classmates right now?

Every now and then a student's head would swivel back to glance in their direction, awestruck looks evident on their faces.

How famous was Hobie anyway?

Of course, there was that giant billboard conveniently placed within view of the school's back hallways near a busy intersection, but Miles really started to think. He sneakily pulled out his phone and swiped down to the lowest brightness he could in case the classroom's fluorescent lighting wasn't enough to hide the phone screen's own light.

He kept his face straight forward, eyes flicking to and from his typing that he was trying to conceal behind the student sitting in front of him. He typed Hobie Brown model, Hobie Brown perfume ad, Hobie Brown supermodel, getting absolutely nothing every single time. Well, nothing that looked like the Hobie Brown sitting next to him, who happened to be dutifully scribbling down some notes in his notebook. Miles looked down at his own empty sheet of paper and quickly copied his new friend, whipping out a pencil and hurrying to catch up with the lecture on the whiteboard before the professor moved on.

Groan. What gives? Was Hobie this super accomplished, totally famous supermodel or not? Maybe he wasn't on social media, oddly enough. Maybe he just started an illustrious career and happened to be famous only in Brooklyn right now? No, that didn't make sense. If he was some small-time influencer or whatever, people would not be asking for autographs so often that Hobie would just automatically assume anyone who recognized him wanted one. And the looks on these other kids' faces convinced Miles that... maybe something was missing. Maybe he's just not searching up the right terms?

Agh, if only Spiderman business didn't keep him totally detached from reality sometimes. He really felt like he and the rest of the world were on totally different planets. If he had any friends besides Ganke, he probably would've heard about Hobie by now.

He bit his lip in concentration, trying to multitask between forming theories and keeping up with the lesson in the front of the classroom.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a pair of eyes staring straight at him that didn't belong to the other classmates he barely even knew. He glanced over at Hobie, who quickly looked away.

Was that... an embarrassed look on his face just now? Miles scratched at his jaw a bit, more confused than before.

That was weird. Whatever. Anyways...

Before long, class was over and the bell rang. Miles and Hobie both meandered slowly up to the door and hung around the outside, leaning against the wall as they compared schedules before they had to make their way to their next class.

"Dang," Miles lamented, clutching his own schedule and moving to slot it into the cover of his binder. "Looks like we don't share any more classes besides 1st period..."

Hobie stopped his hand and squinted at the sheet again, glancing back at his own. "Uhmm... nah, actually. I think we might have 6th period together? Right after lunch."

"Do we share a lunch period too, actually?" Miles asked excitedly.

Hobie made a small noise of triumph, a smile playing over his lips. "Yeah! 1st, lunch and then 6th. Okay. Better than nothing, right?"

Miles chuckled, shoving his schedule into the plastic and tucking it under his arm. "Definitely. We can eat together at the cafeteria if you want! I'll walk you to your next class though, since it's basically right around the corner."

Hobie shrugged his own backpack back onto his shoulder and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. His eyes were cast downwards as he grinned at the floor and said, "yeah, if you don't mind... that'd be pretty cool."

This guy sure does like the word cool, Miles thought, and away to Hobie's next class they both went. They both ignored the various whispers and stares in their direction. Miles was already used to it by now.

They walked together amiably, in near lockstep for a little while before Hobie finally spoke up again.

"... So... if you don't mind me asking... why are you so nice to me if you didn't know I was famous, then?"

It was an innocent enough question, but it kinda caught Miles off guard nonetheless.

He laughed nervously. "Uhh ahaha, whaddya mean? I did know you were famous! I just... y'know my brain doesn't work the best real early in the morning. I'm, uh. Sometimes I can be pretty weird, if you haven't noticed by now."

Hobie nodded slowly, digesting this information for a bit. "Yeah, you did recognize me in the first place, I guess. It's just weird, you're like... the first person I met that doesn't look at me like I'm made out of solid gold, though. That's all..."

They exchanged glances again, and Miles' brain was working into overdrive, thinking of an appropriate response.

Before he could open his mouth, they finally reached their destination and Hobie bumped Miles' shoulder with his arm, smiling.

"So, thanks. For, uh... this. All this."

Miles raised a brow at him. "Oh yeah, this is nothing. I just walked you over to your next class, no biggie. My class is right over here anyways, so--"

Hobie laughed and shook his head, the expression lighting up his facial features unlike anything Miles has seen on that face yet.

"No, Miles. Not just this. I mean, like..." Hobie dipped his head, a bashful sort of move. "I mean, like, being nice to me. Like forreal. I really appreciate this."

They looked at each other for a moment, something real warm growing in Miles' chest all of a sudden, something... familiar.

He was just about to casually brush the gratitude off a second time with a dorky quip, before some girl's screechy voice interrupted their private little moment out of nowhere. It honestly startled them both, and the nice warm atmosphere dissipated immediately.

"Oh. My. GOD!! Is that Hobie Jones? Like actually?!"

She giggled and bounded up to them, blatantly ignoring Miles to insert herself between them and crowd into Hobie's space. She coquettishly asked for a selfie with him, promising to tag him on social media. The sudden commotion unfortunately attracted some other students who then took their cue to also bother Hobie for autographs, selfies, throwing compliments left and right.

Miles backed up out of the crowd, eyes still on Hobie as he watched the poor guy metaphorically slip on a mask, the very same that Miles saw when they first met not 2 hours ago. It was a sad, detached sort of look, and Hobie was forced to hunch in on himself to meet his fellow students' heights as they snapped selfie after selfie. His lips formed a smile all the while. His eyes did not.

A pang of sympathy hit Miles as he slowly turned away and made his way down to his own classroom without so much as a goodbye. He shrugged to himself, shaking his head. Yeah, he knew how that felt, just trying to mind your own business and live your life, do what you have to do-- and being stopped by nearly every living being within a 50 ft radius wanting their photo ops and their babies kissed.

Miles smiled to himself as he shouldered his way past other students and sauntered into his class, right on time. The bell rang as he reached his desk, and he pulled out another notebook out of his bag before the realization finally hit him with the force of a truck.

Wait... Hobie JONES?!

Miles quickly glanced around at his surroundings and mentally kicked himself yet again for choosing a seat so close to the teacher's desk, almost right up at the front. Damnit!

But the teacher wasn't in the classroom just yet, most likely making a quick run down to the printer down the hall to make copies of the class syllabus or something.

Okay, Morales. Gotta be quick.

He hastily pulled out his phone yet again, one eye on the door. He quickly typed in Hobie Jones model in his browser's search box, letting out a breath as search results loaded up and gave him exactly what he was looking for this entire time.

Bingo.

Hobie's face popped up in the image search previews, all sorts of cool and striking photoshoots lit up in all kinds of different ways. And the very first link at the top of the page? Hobie's own Flickstagram.

With a shaky hand, Miles tapped the link and impatiently waited for it to load, for his phone to get with the program and just open the damn app already. He kept glancing every so often at the door yet again, praying that the printer or copier-- or whatever-the-hell that was keeping the professor away from the class-- would keep them away for just a second longer.

He finally cast his gaze back down onto his own Flickstagram app and his heart nearly dropped out of his chest.

At the top, right next to Hobie's own smoldering profile picture was his username: hobiemjones

hobiemjones... hobie m jones. Hobie M. Jones.

M.J.

Miles exhaled again and tucked his phone away in shock just as the classroom door opened yet again and all the students quieted down. This class's teacher made their way over to their desk, piles of papers in hand. They started to pass them out to the students in the front row, introducing themself and then going over the usual attendance policies.

Miles accepted the syllabus sheets with trembling hands, turning to pass them over his shoulder once he got his own, his mind running a hundred miles a minute.

Peter talked nonstop about his wife, whenever he managed to stop talking about his baby, that is. It was always MJ this, MJ that. Flashes of a middle-aged man staring forlornly at a picture of his then-ex wife-- grieving the one who got away-- raced across his mind's eye. His universe's own MJ standing at a podium, strong but deeply hurt as she addressed all of Brooklyn after Spiderman's funeral.

"She wanted kids and I... just wasn't ready," echoed over and over in Miles' mind. Of course, they're together now. But the way Peter talked about his divorce... oh god.

Wait... was Miles ready for kids? Were he and Hobie going to have a messy on-and-off again relationship that ended up with them having to care for a spider-baby just like Mayday?! Maybe even multiple spider-babies?!?!?

Miles loosened his tie a bit, sweating profusely.

The fact that neither Hobie nor Miles were equipped with the parts to make a baby together flew right over his head. No... instead, his mind skipped straight to marriage, messy emotional fights and inevitable breakups. How was he gonna juggle school, work, Spiderman stuff and a relationship all at once?!

Without realizing, Miles started hyperventilating.

No no no no no, cool it Miles. COOL IT. Don't be weird. Miles mentally slapped himself and tried to even out his breathing as he leaned back in his seat and wiped some sweat off his brow.

He just proved to Miguel O' Hara and the entire multiverse this past spring that he can do his own thing, canon events be damned. Miles Morales was no victim to fate. Maybe all of the other spider-people had their own MJs. But maybe in this universe, MJ and Spiderman were... just friends. Good friends! ...Yeah, yeah, just friends...

The idea floated around in Miles' head throughout the entire rest of the class, but it didn't really make the tightness in his chest loosen up any at all.

Once the bell rang again and everyone started packing their things up, Miles dawdled a bit by the door, fumbling with his phone as his classmates filed out of the room. If he was late enough, maybe he'd completely miss Hobie in the hallways and not have to see him at all. Miles double-checked, triple-checked his schedule again and again, mapping out an eventual escape route through the halls in case Hobie's path did intercept Miles'.

God, Miles thought ruefully, checking the hour on his phone for the 15th time in a row and smiling awkwardly at his teacher's questioning glance. You're being so fucking weird about this right now!

The rational part of his brain kicked in and presented a quick slideshow of other calmer, more reasonable explanations as to why he really shouldn't be avoiding his new friend like the plague all of a sudden.

1. Hobie probably doesn't and won't like me, it stated. There is literally no proof that Hobie Jones is even into guys. Or me, Miles Morales.

2. Even if Hobie Jones is into guys-- or me, Miles Morales-- that does not mean the endgame is automatically marriage. No sir, no proof of that at all!

3. Canon events were officially disproven. Kinda. Mostly. Sort of?

C'mon, bro. Just man up and get out there. You're gonna be late for the next class soon anyways.

Right. He inhaled deeply and steeled himself.

"Okay well, uh. Have a nice day Mx. Gonzalez! See ya... tomorrow." Miles cringed inwardly at how lame that sounded, but his teacher didn't seem to notice as they bid him a nice day as well.

With his heart in his stomach, Miles slowly made his way into the hallway and started walking at a brisk pace, keeping his eyeline straight in front of him, trying to reach his next class on the floor below quickly but manageably. It was when he reached the stairs that his heart sank even lower.

Hobie was standing right next to the stairwell, glaring at the school map placed on the wall off to the left, fingertips on his chin as he mumbled to himself. He was glancing up and down between the map and his schedule in his hand, clearly befuddled.

Damn, he really is bad at navigating, Miles mused, once he recovered.

But as luck would have it, tragedy struck right then. Miles being pretty much the only other kid in the hallway attracted Hobie's attention, and even though Miles' feet kept him moving, he almost tripped on air once Hobie perked up upon seeing him.

"Miles!" Hobie grinned and waved him over, clearly happy to see him.

Oh noooo. Miles was not as happy to see him.

Without thinking, he launched himself down the flight of stairs, hopping over the railing and landing loudly on the 1st floor. Once steady, he basically sprinted over to his 3rd period class, completely missing the way Hobie's sunny grin slowly disappeared and his hand lowered back down to his side.

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Lunchtime came and went. Miles ate his packed lunch at his usual perch on top of the school building, where he always hid while trying to avoid the rest of the student body. He managed to pick a good spot away from prying eyes, and it never failed him.

Hobie ate alone, at a table tucked into the corner of the cafeteria despite being invited to several other tables. He sat and chewed sadly, locs back in front of his eyes, posture hunched over and defeated.

6th period came and went. Miles purposefully kept his gaze averted as Hobie walked in 5 minutes late. They sat at opposite ends of the room, never acknowledging each other's existence.

The school day ended and Miles made his way back to the dorms, sighing with relief once he glanced out the window and saw giant rainclouds rolling in over the horizon. Man, was he glad he got to bunk up on campus with his best friend! He greeted Ganke, kicked off his shoes and climbed up onto his bunkbed, laying back with a sigh. Maybe tomorrow he'd confront Hobie about his erratic behavior and apologize. Maybe.

But that was a problem for future Miles...

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Outside, the rain started falling fast and hard.

Outside, Hobie M. Jones waited miserably by the curb with an umbrella in hand, getting drenched by the water nonetheless. He checked his phone for the 15th time and sniffled angrily, pocketing it and gripping onto his umbrella handle.

Late. Again.

His mother was late to pick him up, as usual.

He swiped at a tear rolling down his cheek and finally loosened his ponytail, letting his locs fall all around his face.

Once she arrived, his mother was going to inevitably ask him how his day was, look only slightly concerned about his angry tears and ask if he made any new friends anyways, despite knowing the answer.

No, mom, Hobie would say as he kept his eyes glued to the car window.

No. I didn't make any friends.

#spiderverse #mine #miles morales #hobie brown #heeyyyyyyy... im back. again :) with some angst this tiiimmee ahaha #hope yall dont hate me for this lil meet-cute turning out the way it did 😅#it just.... turned into angst i guess #we all know peter parker and mj are always a tragedy before a theyre a romance yanno what i mean?#soooo yup. miles is no different tbqh #do they end up together tho? WHO KNOWS!!!#maybe they do get together and have their lil spider babies in the end! LOL #also yeah i know mj already exists in 1610 #but lets uhhhhh pretend that EVERY spiderman has an mj. just like they have a gwen! ahaha #or maybe............ hobie jones isnt even an mj after all!! *foreboding music*#YOU decide!#anyways yeah... hope yall liked this one too LMFAO #i'm really in my fic writing era now jfc #who knows what i'll show up with next time?!?! :)#thx 4 reading as always ♡#punkflower #← i hesitate to tag this bc its technically not PUNKflower yanno what i mean #buttttt well. adding it in there anyways. hope yall dont mind

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