Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Arcade clenched fingers pressed up against calloused palms. Sweat dripped along the lines of his skin and fell swiftly to the desert ground. He uncurled those tense fingers, let his shoulders set lower, and inhaled nice and easy. "Ignacio! It's great to see you." No use pretending he hadn't seen him, especially since Ignacio seemed inclined to step over regardless.

Ignacio gave a simple nod and stepped closer. "Time has tended to you well."

He didn't lick his bottom lip, he didn't do that nervous cue-- damn it. He grinned, though it felt a bit cracked and stretched on his face. "Well, don't let me stop you from talking to Julie. She's over in the tower if--"

"Actually," there came that habit he had, of pulling an 'actually' when he wanted to pause someone's misinformed rambles, "I've been told I have two weeks mandatory vacation, so I thought to come visit Freeside and see what I could do to assist. I've come to talk with you though, as Julie is already aware of my presence."

Of course she was. Probably the whole camp was, but he'd been off gallivanting about with fire geckos, again, and he'd missed that no-doubt hastily scrawled memo.

"I hope this is alright with you. I thought we could perhaps catch up." His voice never hitched, but his rich brown eyes with the little golden flecks said enough.

Arcade tried once more, in vain, to keep from licking his lips. It only dehydrated them and made it more apparent where his mind was going. Ignacio would remember.

---~~~---

"That's a bad habit in such a dry climate. You'll crack your lips and require care."

"I can hardly help it when it's an unconscious action."

"Even tells like yours can be managed."

"Tells? Excuse me, an action as innocent as licking my lips and you're reading what exactly from it?"

"Your pupils are dilated, despite the light level, and you've been mimicking my posture, despite many adjustments, for the better part of an hour." That voice held in that same monotone, but there was a knowing smirk to it, even if it was ever so slight in form.

How infuriating.

---~~~---

"It's great, actually. I was just thinking about you." And if he meant that as in literally seconds before Ignacio started talking, then that was fine. It wasn't a lie, right? "You look incredible." Too soon, too much, he regretted it immediately but he kept the smile up, used it as a shield.

"As do you." There was that smile, something that wouldn't even blip on anyone else's radar as being one, but Arcade knew.

"So, mandatory vacation?"

"Yes. Unfortunate, but I suppose that's the price I pay for working alongside those I work with outside of the Followers."

Because Ignacio would see two weeks of vacation, possibly even paid vacation, as a downside. And who but Ignacio would literally look for another place to work while he waited for that two weeks to pass?

Not that Arcade could complain. The other Follower really did look fantastic.

Arcade matched that barely there smile, and stepped closer. He nearly put a hand on that shoulder, but those times had evaporated like drops of water in the sun, hadn't they?

Ignacio joined Arcade in a step until they were so very near one another. "Perhaps we could discuss things sometime this week? I've been rather lacking in intellectuals to converse with, and you're certainly one of the most intelligent men I've ever known."

It nearly sucked the breath out of his lungs, to hear his old friend be so bold. So open. He felt his heart rate increase, as though he were in the middle of an intense cardio workout, but he couldn't keep the smile down any longer. "Of course. I'd enjoy that." Of course, he pulled monosyllabic responses out here. Damn his nerves. He tried to keep calm, did his absolute best to compose himself and regain some ground. "If you'd like, we could have a drink at the Wrangler."

Mistakes were made.

Ignacio nodded. "I suppose I could spend some time there. I understand it's not exactly the most... savory of locations, but we have to make do with what a given location has, don't we?"

"I've done my best to do that so far, yes. It beats a lot of spots, certainly."

---~~~---

"Hold this, I'm... I'm going in."

"This is really a poor idea." It didn't keep the grin off Ignacio's face. "You'll get injured."

"Of course. Probably. I've planned for that."

"Oh, have you then?" Ignacio held the bottle of merlot and let out a quiet sigh.

"Yeah. I'll get hurt, you'll patch me up."

"Must I remind you that I am not the one studying to be a medical doctor?"

"Nope. You've let me know, time and time again, that you're some other thing."

"Some... other..." Ignacio leaned up against the fence, shook his head mournfully, then pulled a swig of the pilfered wine. Still, a peek of amusement tipped over his lips. "You're so brilliant, but you can be a fool."

Arcade laughed and gave the brahmin a big shove. He used all his upper body strength and a fair bit of his height to his advantage. He found the brahmin tipped easily.

The bighorners nearby weren't so pleased with how readily he 'attacked' their comrades.

---~~~---

"Oh, certainly. If you were to visit me at my normal job location, you'd be hard-pressed to find a good spot to simply converse. Especially with that ignoramus, Fantastic."

"I remember that guy." Gary nodded, then shook his head. It was a bit dizzying how quickly he went from one motion to the other. "What an absolute ass." He looked up to Arcade and nodded again.

"Exactly."

"Ouch. He must be really unbearable if you're both upset about it."

"Do you remember Burgess?"

"Oh god are you even asking me that? I'd be in a coma and clench up if I heard his name. You could wake me from a vegetative state if you mentioned he was in the room."

"Exactly. Now, make him a moron."

"Oh no."

"Now you understand. I hate to take time from the mission, but I have to be honest. It's nice not to hear him talk."

---~~~---

"So then, the tribals were absolutely enamored by my intelligence and begged me to be their leader. I informed them, of course, that I could not take on such a position lightly, as I had many people to help in my travels."

Ignacio blinked, then turned his head towards Arcade and offered an incredulous look.

Arcade snickered. He didn't hide it. He didn't pretend. Burgess glared, but Arcade shrugged the look off.

"At any rate, the tribals clamored for my attention but, unfortunately, I couldn't stay. And so, that's why I'm here."

"You know, Caesar off in the East started as a Follower." Arcade took a moment, let that expression set hard into his memory, one he could look back on for years to come and laugh at, "I bet he felt pretty similarly about tribals. You know, things who needed his expertise. Not that they were real people, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Burgess stepped forward, "of course I feel they're real."

"Perhaps real easy to take advantage of." Ignacio downed his shot and nodded at Arcade. "People like you," another glance at Burgess, "they should inspect why they're Followers. If you don't know the name of a tribe, do you even care about them?"

"They're just tribals."

"So was I." Ignacio stood.

Arcade followed. "Come on. I know a nicer place to celebrate graduation."

"I wouldn't say no to that. Or to you."

---~~~---

"Well, it's good to hear you again." Enough. Times had changed. Ignacio wasn't the same man and neither was Arcade.

But Ignacio smiled. Sincere, and with teeth, such a pretty white set that he hid too often. "I have work to do. Julie wants me to look over some statistics that she discovered, and cross-reference them with current data to determine if the results are consistent."

"It sounds like something I should be far away from."

"You always were more people oriented than me, so yes."

People oriented. He grinned, and cracked lips called for him to stop that nonsense. He licked them instead and it silenced them for a moment.

"I should be at the Atomic Wrangler at 8 tonight. I'll be near the front."

"I'll be waiting." Arcade waved, and immediately regretted it. It wasn't as though his old colleague was leaving, he seemed to only need to walk one tent over.

When Ignacio left, his courier friend leaned in and grinned high up at Arcade. "So. An old beau of yours, perhaps?"

Arcade stepped away from them, took a bit of time to himself to compose everything together. To gather himself, after all that. "We're colleagues, and we went to school together." He dusted his jacket off, then adjusted his top button of his shirt. Suddenly, it was too tight.

"Ooooh. Sounds lovely. Well, he came here just to see you."

"Which means nothing, and don't you go spreading that message around."

"Well, we'd all root for you, if you were interested in him. But since you're clearly not, don't let me stop you." They patted him on the shoulder and turned towards the exit to the fort.

---~~~---

Ignacio stroked along his shoulders, rubbed his thumbs and fingers into the tense muscles beneath Arcade's pale skin. "I suppose you learned your lesson?"

"Carpe noctem."

"Latin won't fix torn muscles."

"If they were torn, I'd be agonized by a massage. I'm just a bit sore."

"I imagine. A bighorner is called that for a reason. You're lucky that you're not dead."

"I got what I wanted."

"The cheap thrill of tormenting an animal?"

"I helped it up." He stifled the whine from his voice and leveled himself as much as he could. "And no. Your hands on me."

"Barba tenus sapientes."

"Excuse me?”

"You could just ask if you want me to touch you."

"I... I'll keep that in mind. But my beard is coming in just fine. It just needs a bit of time."

"Time and tide wait for no man."

"Thank you, Chaucer, I'll keep that in mind."

---~~~---

The Wrangler smelled different than he remembered. It wasn't that he went about smelling places, especially places that advertised the women as cheap as booze, but he could tell there was a difference here. There was a certain metallic smell that didn't fully set in until he saw Fisto walk up towards James at the front bar.

Ah. Right. Boone and Gary had become a prostitute wranglers. He'd nearly forgotten that little series of escapades and how he'd been asked to test all the humans for 'social diseases' before they started work. Not that Fisto was human, but they had kept Arcade around when Fisto was programmed for the current line of work.

Lucky Arcade, seeing that process. And the results. He shuddered.

The stool next to him moved and Arcade smiled over. "Glad to see you've arrived."

"I don't believe I was late." Ignacio nodded to James, "An atomic cocktail, please and thank you."

"I'm surprised to see you drinking. I thought you swore off it last time."

"Years have passed. People change. Though, I rarely indulge. I only do so when I feel safe."

He was already a shot of scotch in and that got a smile speared over his lips. "Well, the last thing I'd do is take advantage of you."

"Old statements still apply for you." And as quick as those softly spoken words, Ignacio downed the cocktail and tapped the bar for another. "I just don't appreciate random men and their attempts on me. I prefer a man I know. I'm sure you understand how it is."

Arcade blinked through several flashes of memories, one night stands with beautiful men (for various degrees of beautiful), then he nodded. "Absolutely. I feel the same way."

James glanced between the two of them before he poured out Arcade's double and set it beside the Atomic cocktail.

"I probably shouldn't drink much more though. It's been a while."

He tapped his shot glass to Ignacio's taller one, then downed it. "It's been a while for me too."

James turned before he could smirk, though he turned towards Arcade a bit more so Arcade saw the flash of teeth anyway. At least this Garret had the decency to turn away from Ignacio when Arcade's intents were made clear enough. Francine had no such decency in the past.

Moments drew on with a slight tip to them, and Arcade felt satisfaction at how the alcohol already caressed his insides and beckoned him to sit closer to his old friend. "So..."

Ignacio turned his body fully towards Arcade on the stool. One foot lifted and settled on the bottom rung. His left arm ghosted touches along the slight stubble at his chin, while the other held the drink at his hip.

Arcade motioned for another drink, a single this time, and glanced over. "You still touch your face when you talk to me? Interesting."

"I-I have no idea what you're talking about."

---~~~---

"You keep stroking your face when I'm around. You don't do it with everyone else." He leaned over until his forehead was nearly pressed up against Ignacio's. He could smell the scotch that mingled in the air between them; the alcohol itself was an Old World remnant they'd found in an abandoned basement and taken the liberty of securing.

Of course, said securing meant they secured it down in their insides and promptly abandoned their 'research' for their Old World knowledge class.

Arcade didn't care. Right then, he cared about how that darker skin still blushed an almost delicate pink when Ignacio was caught being cute.

"I-I don't know what you're referring to." They stilled, and even their breathing became slower.

"And now you're blushing. Cute." He arched a brow and stood up taller, pulled away just a bit to give the other some room.

"Inebriation often flushes my skin, you know it is. You witnessed it enough times lately."

"Oh, that felt like a jab. Am I a bad influence on you?"

"It certainly feels that way. You were the one that suggested we finish off that alcohol."

"You're the one that signed up for this class just because I was in it." He couldn't argue that point, but he could sidestep it as cleanly as he did an ancient brick on the floor. He moved back directly beside Ignacio.

"Th-that's hardly true." Ignacio turned away from Arcade though, hunched his shoulders back, and stepped back towards the ancient basement bar. "I have a long-standing fascination with the knowledge, technology, and society of our ancestors."

"And you hate our teacher." He stepped closer once more. "Besides, we both know that you never get flushed from alcohol until you're loaded. And you're only a drink in."

"I know no such thing." But there came the almost smile. Dark eyes met Arcade's. "Though, I suppose you may be right. After all, I hardly see my own reflection and I see it even less so when I'm impaired."

"Why don't you just admit what we both know, and we can go from there?"

"I'm not going to be the first to admit it."

"You're so stubborn." He dipped in between Ignacio and the dusty bar and leaned over the old counter. "Will I have to seduce you even more?" He ignored an itch at his shoulder in order to look up with a sultry expression at the other.

"Who could avoid the charms of someone like you?" A mischievous look hung on those beautiful lips, crinkled the edges of those deep eyes.

"Exac--"

"With a massive aphonopelma iodius perched on your shoulder, you're really a catch."

"Aph..." Even a drink in, he was fairly quick to recall that was the beginning of a genus. What genus was it again? Oh. Never one to let a crush catch him overreacting, he casually turned his head back towards his shoulder. Ah. Yes, well. "I thought I felt something. If I didn't see where your hands were, I'd have assumed it was you." Slowly, carefully, he reached out and gently encouraged it to crawl away.

The tarantula seemed fine with this. Down it crawled along his side, down his belly, and back onto the dusty bar counter it no doubt called home.

All the while, Arcade's entire body fluttered with those tiny footsteps along his clothing.

Stiffly but with as much grace as he could manage, he slid off the counter and ambled right up into Ignacio's space. "So, you said I was a catch." Full recovery, even if he felt out of breath from having held it.

"I did."

"I'm glad you finally said it. I was beginning to feel sorry for you, so clearly smitten with me, yet unable to admit it."

"Do you feel the same way?"

"Well..." He leaned himself down over them a bit, pulled them in with a friendly arm around their shoulders. "I might."

"Ah. Well then. What should we do to fill our time?"

"There's a bottle of scotch with our names on it and no one else to miss it. Except maybe that tarantula, who shouldn't drink much anyway. How about it?"

"I suppose if we're to spend the night here anyway, drinking might not be the worst use of our time. But tomorrow we finish working."

"Of course, of course." He reached out for the bottle with one arm and kept on leading them towards the rickety stairs with his other arm curled around Ignacio's waist.

---~~~---

Ignacio's hand trembled mid-air, as though it were uncertain where to go. Eventually, he just let it lay down over his lap and curled it around the cocktail his other hand clutched. "Nervous habit."

"Oh, absolutely. Just like my biting my lips, right? We've all got our... quirks, I suppose."

And if James no doubt heard the dip in his voice and smirked in response to Arcade's comments, to Hell with him. He was almost definitely getting laid and James could think whatever he wanted.

Ignacio seemed to notice the look James gave. That once familiar flush filled those soft cheeks and Ignacio quickly pulled in a few long sips of his cocktail. "This is an excellent drink. I suppose I'd forgotten how good these can taste."

He couldn't stop admiring at the wetness on those lips. The way Ignacio's neck bulged and then receded with each swallow, it intoxicated more than the several shots swimming their way to his liver did. He grinned and leaned on forward, propped one of his own legs against the bottom rung of his friend's stool. "I've forgotten how good a lot of things taste."

"You always were thick on your subtlety."

"You always liked to talk circles around what you want."

"I've often reminisced on our conversations lately. When you're surrounded by NCR who talk in grunts and an idiot who couldn't fool a child, it's... isolating."

"Is that all you missed?"

"Hardly." He lifted the drink and made short work of what remained. A moment later, the glass slapped against the counter and Ignacio glanced up to James once more. "I'd like something a bit stronger, perhaps that whiskey." He nodded in the direction of the bottle. It was real high-end stuff, on the top shelf.

"You've got a strong man right there. Though, I suppose you'd like another drink first?" James chuckled and reached for the bottle.

Ignacio raised a brow at that chuckle, then nodded. "That would be nice."

"Well, make sure you keep enough caps on hand you can get a room too. We don't run tabs around here anymore." James flipped the thick scotch bottle over and poured out a single for the both of them.

Arcade tapped his highball glass against his friend's, "To us, and to James giving us a bit of breathing room to converse if he wants more of my money anytime in the future."

Palms up and heavy chuckles from his gut, James stepped back. "Your call, Gannon. I'm just trying to help you out. I wouldn't want you going away empty handed, not after how you and your friend have helped Freeside so much."

"How noble." He returned his gaze to Ignacio. "Though, perhaps we could continue over at a table? Thankfully, nothing that passes as 'entertainment' in this place is currently on stage. Believe me, we're lucky."

"I think that would be preferable. You know I prefer privacy." Ignacio stood and emptied his own shot in one go, then ambled towards a nearby table.

He unhooked his one leg from the stool and turned back towards the rest of the bar. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"About what?" Ignacio glanced over one shoulder and appeared to search the bar, but went right on past the culprit Arcade mentioned, as though he didn't notice the nosy NCR sitting with his back to them both in that stupid red hat that might as well have screamed 'Here I am!' for how discreet it was.

"Boone." He stepped past his date with quick steps. "What brings you here."

Boone lifted a brown bottle to his lips and tilted his head back just an inch. Beer held loosely between three fingers, he lowered it and arched a brow in Arcade's direction. "Beer." Once more, he lifted the beer, although this time as though to show off what everyone could already see, like a very uninspired salesman.

He wasn't fooled. Arcade popped his mouth open, ready to retort.

"Oh! Boone. You're the one that assisted with bringing power back for everyone, aren't you? Yes, I recognize that beret of yours. I'm surprised I didn't notice you coming in."

Boone shrugged. "I came in after."

"So you did notice us here?" Arcade pulled up a chair next to Boone and slapped himself into it.

"Yeah."

"Would it be alright if we all sat together?" Ignacio ran his fingers along the wooden back of a chair but didn't pull it out.

"Sure." Boone looked down at his beer though, brows tucked in a bit, furrowed together in something that seemed like concentration. "You two know each other?"

Arcade leaned in and allowed the emphasis to go on all the right words. "We go back years. Many long years. We went and got our doctorates together, you know."

"Good." Boone looked back up and focused on Ignacio with dark eyes behind sunshades. "Is that idiot still there?"

"Unfortunately, and by the same stroke, fortunately. It leaves me to my own devices. Still, 'Fantastic' is an ever-present challenge to deal with, though I shouldn't worry about that any longer."

Boone actually smiled. He shook his head and gave a grim laugh into his beer. "Sorry."

"It's hardly your fault."

"NCR hired him though. People like that, they're the reason others question the NCR's abilities. If an ass like that gets through..."

Ignacio leaned in his own rare smile on his face so readily. "I have hopes that he'll be relieved of his duties. Word is that I might be able to run the facility myself soon. He's made an increasing number of missteps as of late."

"Good. They'll give him the boot."

"I would enjoy that. Though, he served a purpose, as you recall."

Doublespeak. This was clearly some sort of personal history coded conversation. Arcade wracked his brain in an attempt to figure out just what sort of history these two had. It had to have been a short one. Just at the HELIOS One facility, right? Just that brief mention Ignacio made of his job, that was where Boone knew him from, right?

Then again, Ignacio had worked in conjunction with NCR. Boone was NCR. Even if he wasn't signed on anymore, he was still NCR deep, right to the marrow. Boone had the hat to prove it.

Arcade stood. He slapped his hands down on the table. "Drinks. I think we need another round of drinks."

"Could use a beer." Boone eyed Arcade without even turning his head. He lifted the empty bottle up in a silent request.

"They don't do tabs."

"They do for me." He glanced back to Ignacio and asked, "What are you having?"

"Oh, I should just drink water for the moment." He reached into his jacket to pull out the caps.

"No, I'll get it. I owe you one." He glanced back to Arcade. "A water for him. Please."

And manners.

Arcade felt his stomach tighten and the alcohol threatened to return up into his mouth. It'd burn more on the way up the esophagus than down, he knew from experience, so he did his best to smooth over the sensations and relax. "Of course. I'll be right back."

A little under half of him wanted to just ignore both of their requests and get himself a whiskey. Maybe 4. Maybe order a room and just go upstairs and stay by himself for a bit, if they enjoyed one another’s company so much. Hell, maybe he’d go ask Old Ben to come talk to him for a while. He wouldn’t do anything else (probably), but the guy was good for conversation.

But no, he was better than that. Better than petty irritation and giving up to no doubt overreactions. Behaving boorishly never impressed Ignacio.

---~~~---

"He wants inside of you." He did not cross his arms, he did not let his voice take on that whiny tone it might have if he wasn't so careful here to also not cross his arms. No, he leaned against the wall and eyed the intruder from across the room. They didn't seem to notice.

"We were talking."

"Well, when I 'talk' I want inside of you. Like right now." He pushed back with his elbows and moved into their space. "I wouldn't mind going on a long walk with you."

There came the huff. "Arcade. I'm here to actually socialize. Perhaps in a few hours, when I'm ready to leave, you can..." There came the glance around, the low voice, "get inside of me. But not if you're going to behave so possessively."

Well fine then. "I hope he doesn't try smooth talking you anymore. He came on so thick I could barely breathe."

"He asked what my name is. I hardly see how that's coming on smooth. If it were, then I come onto women on a semi-regular basis. Which, I assure you, is not the case."

That got a laugh, though it was unsteady. Arcade slumped back against the wall. "Alright." He almost moved closer after a moment, for a kiss, but Ignacio had already turned and began his walk away.

Arcade huffed and sucked down the rest of his lukewarm beer.

---~~~---

"A beer, a water, and a whiskey. Please."

"That sounds like the surly start to a bad joke. Now that Hadrian's out of his contract thanks to your friend, maybe you could try your hand at it?"

"I'm hardly a comedian."

"No, but your existence is pretty funny. You were swinging so hard there, friend, that I thought for sure you wouldn't miss. Then Mister NCR himself walks in and it looks like you'll be sleeping alone tonight."

"I didn't realize I was paying you for your ridiculous observations, and not for the alcohol."

"All I'm saying is, if you're to have any hope of scoring tonight, you should drink a little less and talk a little more. Make it clear he'd rather have you."

"Says the man with a robot fetish; you're the epitome of the lady's man, aren't you?"

Narrowed eyes made Arcade smirk.

James tapped fingers along the bar and nodded. "Well, fine. Let's keep that under wraps. Just consider what I said, if you want to have any hope with your guy over there. Ladies and gents both line up to get in the bed with men in berets like that. Maybe not around here, but that one isn't local, is he?"

It was Arcade's turn to rap his fingers against the counter. "Just get me the drinks, please?" Irritation mixed with a flaring desperation wasn't what he wanted to feel, but here it was. He couldn't keep it out of his voice any more than he could keep from glaring over at Boone's shaved head and stupid hat.

"There you go. Though, that's not enough for the whiskey and water."

"He was-- you're right. Here you go." No way would Boone pay for anyone but himself tonight. Arcade leaned in, put most of his weight on the solid wood between him and James. "And if Boone tries to sneak and pay for either of our drinks, don't let him."

"As long as I get my money, I don't really care." James nodded back towards the table. "Good luck." He lifted a rag, and began to wipe down the bar, though he didn't look away from Arcade and the two behind, seated at the table.

Arcade turned. "I don't need luck. I've got skill."

---~~~---

"You look ridiculous." It didn't stop Ignacio from drinking his beer and watching Arcade though.

Everyone was watching.

"I look fabulous and you know it." He tossed the whiskey up, caught it by the neck, and poured out a little over a shot for one of his friends. "Besides, I'm just having a good time. That's what you wanted me to do, right?"

Another sip. Ignacio didn't seem to acknowledge it with anything more than that sip.

Fine. Arcade didn't care. He tossed one of the bottles of vodka up in the air, poured it quick, and then added a bit of the Nukacola into the glass as well and slid it over to another.

"So, you're studying to be a doctor." One more sip. "And I'm not."

"Yep." This wasn't the time to have that talk, no it wasn't. Arcade spun a bottle of scotch behind his back and added it to a dubiously clean glass a friend put out for him.

"We'll both graduate soon."

"That's a true statement. Oh, be careful with that one," he handed over an overly full cup of strange canned juice and strong whiskey. It'd taste good, probably, and his friend wasn't complaining as they held the glass aloft and licked away what spilled over the rim.

"Is this perhaps the root of your sudden increase in..." For someone who seemed to always know what to say, Ignacio stared into his amber bottle and lightly swirled it around. "Desperation?"

The heavy bottle was just too wet. There was condensation on the lip and neck, and it wasn't Arcade's fault that it slipped. It wasn't his fault when it spun in the air, almost like he'd done it so easily with the other drinks, and an arc of whiskey beautifully whipped out from within. Amber and gold droplets spread out and shone with the light.

Ignacio held on tightly to his beer. He stood still and blinked once, twice. Finally, he finished off his beer in a few more long sips, then set the bottle down carefully in front of Arcade. "I should get cleaned off."

"You’re right, it could burn the tissue if you’ve got any cuts." It was a numb statement, one that came out even as stark white flushed bright red with embarrassment. Still, he couldn't put much more than shock in his voice. "I'll mop up."

"Perhaps after, we can leave. I'm feeling rather less sociable now." There was a tinge of irritation. Perhaps even anger.

Only Arcade probably knew that after all the time they'd spent together.

He nodded, grim-faced and slow. "Yeah. Absolutely. I'll walk you if you want."

"Alright."

It had not been alright, though things hadn't ended immediately. No, no they hadn't.

---~~~---

He was older. He could handle alcohol better (he insisted, and James agreed as long as the caps came flowing) and he wasn't nearly as naive. Being 'suave' and serving up the sauce to a room full of people wasn't how to catch his friend's attention. Being loud, boisterous, and obnoxious, no that wasn't it either.

So while a slightly more histrionic part of his brain said he should do something like go on stage and serenade Ignacio until he begged to be taken right there (he was drunk and had an active imagination) he knew that wouldn't do a thing.

Maybe Ignacio really just came to talk. All Arcade's desires to rekindle things, to make things better, to make them make sense instead of how things had left off... Maybe that wasn't it.

It still burned harder in his gut than the whiskey when he saw Ignacio outright laugh to something Boone said.

Boone didn't say funny things. Ignacio didn't laugh easily. This was a goddamn tragedy of the highest order and he didn't have to take it sitting down.

He'd prefer to take Ignacio laying down, all things considered.

"What's funny over here?" Arcade stood behind Boone and leaned in over him to press the beer down before Boone and the water down before his old flame. His hands stayed on the table, just beside the drinks, and he remained in place just behind and around Boone. "Surely you didn't make him laugh like that."

"I did." Boone didn't even turn his head, he just popped the beer open on the end of a worn bottle opener, then placed the opener in a pocket and picked the beer up for a slow sip.

Ignacio smiled, showed those same pretty teeth Arcade remembered. "He informed me about your adventures together."

Oh god. "Which ones?"

"One involving a fire gecko."

"You didn't. No. Boone." He didn't whine, he was pretty certain, but he definitely slouched over the sniper a bit more. Breathed against their neck so they understood his displeasure. Inhaled their rich scent, before he spoke, "It's like you want me telling him all your embarrassing stories."

Ignacio's smile didn't fade. "I wouldn't mind that."

Boone snorted. "Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I could tell him about the time you were naked in--"

"You promised." The warning came as thick as the alcohol on Arcade's breath. "Don't you go back on a promise."

"Fine. But what about the time in the Lucky 38 when--"

"I wouldn't if I were you." Boone reached back and helped Arcade remove those long arms from around Boone's shoulders and chest. "Just sit down. And maybe sober up. Your breath has me drunk."

"Pfft. I rarely indulge, so why not go a bit over, hmm?"

"Whiskey dick's a problem with any alcohol. You're drinking whiskey." Boone sipped his beer, a bit more stiffly than he might have.

"And you're thinking about my dick?" It came out faster than his brain could rope it back. He shrugged though, as though it weren't an ass thing to say. Ignacio already clearly was more interested in Boone and his shameful stories about Arcade than he was in Arcade himself, so it didn't matter anymore, did it?

Ignacio tapped his chin, rubbed fingers along his face. There came the neck tilt, the reminder of what a lovely neck he had.

God, how many kisses had he placed along that pulse? How many gentle sucks had he bestowed, only to be lightly chided that it was too hot to wear high-necked clothing, and scarves were not something he would wear.

How many times had they sat together under the stars, discussing their dreams and how they wanted to help the world in any way they could?

Arcade felt his tongue distantly, dry and stiff as it was when it played along his bottom lip. He leaned in and reached out towards Ignacio. "Do you still dance?"

"Not nearly as often as I'd like."

"Would you dance with me?"

"I would."

---~~~---

"I could easily fix your radio."

"I like it how it is." Arcade held his lover close, leaned over into that neck, inhaled his scent. It wasn't strong, but it was pleasant, strangely sweet and musky all in one.

"Are you worried I'll break it?"

Yes. No. Maybe. "Can we wait until this song's over?"

"You can't even hear it through the static. It would be simple to fix it." Ignacio pulled closer to Arcade though, seemed to relax against Arcade's chest. His head rested right between the pectorals.

"Do you really want to stop dancing?"

"Hmm. No..."

"Then be quiet and let me hold you."

"What a way with words." There came that by then familiar tease, just the slightest hitch up in tone.

Arcade ran long fingers down his spine and cupped at his ass. "I've got a way with my fingers too, or so you say."

"You're... filthy at times."

"Mmm, you could clean me up later, if you want. I managed to get water working in the house."

Ignacio muttered something low against Arcade's chest, but his own hands reached down Arcade's back from their normal position at his shoulders. Though those fingers didn't stroke quite as boldly as Arcade's, they certainly were more erotic in the spiraling patterns he traced along the small of Arcade's back.

"What was that, Snookums?" He said it with a bold grin and waited patiently for Ignacio to look up with irritation.

It worked. Ignacio huffed. "That's a ridiculous name. And also, you're incorrigible."

"But that's why you love me."

Love.

They'd made love that night, for the first time. There, right under the stars. The radio had stayed on, full of static, and Ignacio hadn't said another thing about it.

In the morning, the radio was fixed and Ignacio woke him up with breakfast.

Breakfast only partially made up for how Ignacio had allowed him to stay outside in the growing sunlight until he burned worse than a newborn. He'd seen actual newborns less red and blotchy than he was then.

Ignacio had tended to him with aloe though, nursed him back to his normal complexion, with nary a complaint. Well, that wasn't true. He'd complained a lot, but that was part of the charm.

---~~~---

"You stepped on my foot."

"You walked your foot under mine. It's not my fault you're out of practice." Arcade pulled his flame closer, inhaled that scent that hadn't changed a bit for all the years between them, and he ignored Boone and James as hard as he could for as long as he could. All that mattered was this dance.

"I should get you a water."

"Ah, are you trying to sober me up too?"

"Yes."

"And why's that?"

"Boone made a salient point." Ignacio extracted himself from Arcade, just as the song ended. "I'll get us both some water."

And away he walked, with a much more steady footing than Arcade's own.

What point had Boone made again? That his breath alone was enough to make another drunk?

Arcade cupped his hand and breathed into it, and a moment later grinned a little at how silly that was. Of course, it wouldn't smell any more than just breathing did. How ridiculous. He shrugged it off as though no one had seen (James and Boone weren't looking, he told himself) and ambled back over to Boone.

Boone nodded.

Arcade nodded.

Ignacio returned with water for them all.

Arcade narrowed his eyes at Boone's water, and the way Boone drank it without a word. Head tipped back, lips wet against the glass, throat bulging and pulling with every needy, yet casual, sip.

Boone drank the water faster than the beer. Little droplets slid down his stubbled chin, along the contours of his neck.

It took him a minute to realize he was staring, and by then both of the others seemed to have noticed, although neither said a thing.

He chugged half his own water.

---~~~---

Boone actually seemed to relax when he swam. There was no heavy fixed gaze of consternation, no errant glances over shoulders, no brusque comments that everything was fine with a heavy dose of don't bother asking again anytime soon.

No, Boone just swam. Better still, he didn't want to get his underthings wet, so he swam nude. He'd been so quick and casual to take everything off and leave it on the dock, Arcade almost didn't spot Boone before he dove in and gracefully stroked his arms through the water.

Arcade didn't stare for more than a moment, after which he tugged his own clothes off, folded them near Boone's and dove in after.

There was no idyllic splashing and water time fun or playing around. It was simply a shared physicality, both of them swimming through the lake and enjoying the exercise that cooled them off even as it heated them up under the summer sun.

They swam partly out into Lake Mead together and just remained upright and paddling in the middle for a bit, silently enjoying a camaraderie formed between two who put up with a lot of shit in their pursuit of making New Vegas a better place.

It would have felt romantic, almost, if it were anyone else. But with Boone, it was just equal parts confusing and pleasant.

"I used to swim all the time as a kid." Boone looked at the water, seemed focused on the softly shimmering waves and the reflected sunlight.

"Really? I never swam until I was an adult. I enjoy it, but it's certainly nothing I ever got used to."

Boone nodded.

If there was a story, it wasn't coming. Boone remained as quiet at before.

Finally, Arcade turned back towards the docks and started on the trip back. The last thing he needed was to feel vulnerable emotionally, be vulnerable physically, and be attacked by lakelurks. He'd almost prefer a physical attack though, to any more silence after he interrupted a potential story time.

Boone followed though he said nothing. He continued with those graceful long arm strokes and those quiet kicks with tightly muscled legs.

Arcade definitely didn't notice, he definitely didn't look.

He didn't notice the dock as more than a splotch of brownish colors set above shimmering blue and reflected yellow. Without his glasses, which he'd left beside his clothing, he couldn't see a thing clearly.

Boone could. "The clothes are gone."

Arcade squinted, attempted to see if Boone was teasing him (unlikely but preferable) or if it was the truth. "They fell, or we left them further up the dock."

"No." Boone overtook arcade in a burst of energetic strokes, his arms and legs less focused on being quiet than on speed. "They're not there."

No clothes.

Some dumb kids cackled nearby, behind the dilapidated shack. Their laughter was barely subdued by their own stage whispered shushes.

Boone was first to pull himself out of the water. Arms grabbed with ease at the edge of the dock, and out Boone went, majestic as he'd dove in.

Not that Arcade watched. Not that he noticed. He was too far away to see Boone as anything more than mostly tanned fleshy colors anyway. He didn't attempt to follow suit, he simply swam up to the edge of the water and stepped out bit by bit until he was free of all the water but what droplets that clung to his skin. "Don't hurt them if they're still kids like they sound."

"I'm not," Boone said, in a restrained tone that very much suggested this was a soon-to-be lie, "as long as they give our clothes back. Now."

Even without glasses, he could appreciate the curves on Boone's body. On his pale bottom.

He was allowed to enjoy how men looked, purely aesthetically, right? There was no law against it-- well, alright, there were likely plenty of laws in plenty of places that at the very least frowned on him noticing Boone, but they lived in a backward time and place.

He stepped closer. "I'd honestly settle for glasses at this point."

"The better to see your boyfriend with?" Definitely a kid. Well, teenager obviously. Their voice was just pitchy enough that it was someone who hadn't yet grown into their body. "Come over here and grab them."

Boone sighed.

Arcade couldn't see him well enough to see the expression or anything other than the suggestion of a shoulder roll. It was enough that Boone made his feelings so obviously known in just one exhale.

Boone was ready to fight.

The only problem seemed to be the kids that now moved around from behind the shack. They were about a foot shorter than Arcade, and that honestly said all it needed to. Early to middle teens, definitely none older than 16 or so by their voices, their immaturity, and their height.

Boone stepped forward. "Give us our clothes."

The 'or else' didn't come out, but Arcade nearly shivered from the tone.

"Or what?" Oh, it was that same one that had mocked Arcade for wanting his glasses.

Oh, how idiotic young men could be.

Arcade stepped forward, attempted to let his nearsightedness give him a better understanding of just exactly how to deal with the brats. "Do you make a habit of stealing the clothes of nude men?" To watch their expressions, it was clear that no. No, they didn't.

Arcade advanced further until he could see the sweat on their foreheads until he noticed clearly how they shifted from foot to foot, nervous or uncomfortable for whatever reason. He could guess. "May I offer a suggestion?" He didn't give them more than a second before he continued, "Tease one another with 'pranks' like that. Don't find strange men and hope they're not killers when you steal their clothes as a 'joke'. And if you really want to see older men nude, go to Freeside. I understand there is at least one pleasant older man you could go enjoy the company of if you had the caps."

He could see Boone's face go from stern to amused. It held tight, as though nothing of note had been said, but Arcade noticed the way it shifted just slightly around the corners of the mouth, and around the eyes.

There was a scrambling coupled with an exchange of mumbles. Soon enough, one darted back behind the shack and returned with the clothes and Arcade's glasses.

He didn't watch them run off towards who even knew where. He got dressed quickly enough and did all he could not to directly stare when Boone leisurely dressed in front of him, as though they hadn't just been in an uncomfortable situation.

---~~~---

It took him a minute to realize both of them seemed to have noticed his stares, although neither said a thing.

It was the alcohol, and they were both right. No more alcohol. No beer, no cocktails, no shots of anything. Water it was, for the rest of the night. He nodded, content with his decision, and set the glass down with a heavy thud.

"You must really be thirsty." Such an innocent statement.

Arcade attempted to not act defensively. "Boone drank his faster." He failed.

"You're licking your lips a lot." Ignacio trailed the rim of his own glass with his finger, then ran it along down the side and lifted the glass.

"Must be the alcohol."

"Oh, is that what it is?" A sliver of a smirk, and then Ignacio raised the glass and sipped his own water calmly, like a reasonable person.

---~~~---

"Drink some water, you need to stay hydrated."

"Says the not-a-doctor." Arcade didn't fight the beer being switched out for water though, so long as he could snuggle into them.

"To the newly-a-doctor, yes." Ignacio wrapped his arm around Arcade's shoulders, tugged him closer.

Warm breath puffed out along Arcade's curly hair and he grinned up into those pretty brown eyes. "You... you have nice breathing."

He hadn't always been someone who drank so much. Once, he'd even determined that alcohol was terrible and only the worst people drank it. Sure, he'd been 13 and also a fool then, but in a different way. That wasn't the point.

Ignacio chuckled, his chest rumbled against Arcade's head. "I believe that's the oddest compliment I've ever received."

"Good. I wouldn't want someone outdoing me on any front when it comes to you."

"Is that right?"

"Mmhmm."

"We'll likely be going elsewhere for the Followers."

Oh, sneaky bastard. Suggest Arcade booze up after he'd been good for a month, and then discuss it again. Arcade huffed but snuggled closer. Held him tighter. "No."

"What use do doctor camps have for engineers? For mechanical scientists? For men like myself?"

He wouldn't beg. He wouldn't. It wouldn't do any good anyway.

Wasn't this always how it happened? He felt something strong, like all the right things were happening, and for once he deserved to be happy, and then something took it away?

Sometimes, men almost discovered his past, sometimes they found someone better, and sometimes the very organization that brought them together tore him apart.

He shut his eyes and listened to that nice breathing, paid attention to the little pitter patters of that big heart he'd grown to like so much.

"I could be very helpful in a camp full of guys like you." Despite the seriousness, he couldn't help but imagine a camp full of dry-witted, beautiful, stoic men like Ignacio. God, that would be worth all the torments of the world if he could even spend a day there.

"I'm sure. But we'll have very little say about where we get put. It would be extremely difficult to stay together when we graduate."

As if Arcade didn't know it. As if he hadn't thought of it.

He drank his water. He stayed there, cuddled against his lover, sharply aware that he was saying goodbye.

Daisy always said don't say goodbye. Say I'll see you later. I'll see you soon. Never tempt fate that way.

In the morning, he cooked Ignacio breakfast, kissed him on the lips, and said he'd see him later.

---~~~---

"Is something wrong?" Ignacio's voice came across softer than usual, but it still startled Arcade from his thoughts.

He glanced between the two, then shrugged. "No."

Boone's input came in the form of an arched brow.

"Everything's fine." He tried to tamp it down, certain as he was that they'd both immediately call his bluff with that little phrase. It didn't take a genius to know everything was wrong when someone said that. Neither one was stupid, either.

But still, what a surprise that both remained silent.

He stood up, unsteady but working hard to keep the wobble away. "I should go. I'll see you soon."

"I remember the last time you said that."

He didn't look at that beautiful face, he didn't need to see how soft it would look even as accusing words came out. "Do you?"

"You made me poached eggs."

"Your favorite."

"They never tasted the same way twice."

He might think of it as a complaint, but it wasn't. That was just how it was between them, wasn't it? He smiled and glanced over his shoulder. "But you still ate them."

"I enjoyed them."

"I didn't say I'll see you soon. I said I'll see you later."

"What's the difference?"

He turned fully, looked Ignacio in those pretty brown eyes. "Well, they're both better than a goodbye. Later meant someday, and I was right. Soon means... tomorrow, if you like."

A nod. "I'd like that. Though, perhaps we shouldn't drink then. I don't think my body enjoys it as much as it used to."

Arcade grinned and cocked his head. "Really? Your body ever enjoyed it?"

"Moderately, I suppose."

"Oh, like maybe that one time--"

"I don't recall."

"When you and--"

"That doesn't ring a bell."

"With the bighorner?"

There came the flush, and it hadn't been there just a moment before, so no alcohol could be blamed. "I don't know what you're referring to."

"Well, maybe I'll tell Boone about it later." A gentle tap on Boone's shoulders, that turned to a light rub. He tried to stand upright, but once he was tilted over Boone, it was a bit difficult to fully rise.

"I'd prefer you not."

"He told about the fire geckos. I think it's only fair we all have our embarrassing stories. And oh, I remember that one like it's a mental holotape."

"Ah. Well, if you're determined to tell it, I think perhaps I'll have a busy two weeks and--"

"Oh, no, you're not getting out of it. It's a date. Tomorrow. We could... meet in front of the Lucky 38. I spend some time there, in between everything."

"Ah. I suppose if I must."

"You must." He stepped around the table and placed a hand on Ignacio's back. Felt how warm he was, how soft and pleasant his body was. "Say, around 8?"

"That would be fine."

He didn't even consider how he'd left Boone and Ignacio together alone, until he was already in bed and undressed. There, he didn't find himself nearly as upset as he had been only about an hour before. No, quite the opposite.