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Dancin until dawn.
[The hardest part about keeping a secret is the waiting around. Nick's better at surprises and delayed gratification than most, but even he's having a hard time keeping a lid on this one. It takes planning, though, setting up a really romantic evening, even one as juvenile and silly as this. Thankfully, between Ellie and the Vaultie's pack-rat tendencies, Nick's managed to set up something genuinely pretty nice.
Nick had thought about clearing out the upstairs, but the odds of Hancock just wandering up there were too high. Instead, he cleared out the floor below theirs and went to work. The decorations were top notch, he'd figured out how to get SNOW to play music down here. Had set up spotlights, metallic streamers, the whole nine yards.
No high school prom had ever looked more prom-like. Vaultie had even provided balloons.
He had the whole thing sewed up, prom, romantic food, he even wore the nice outfit that the Vaultie had given him. All he required now was Hancock.
Nick tried to remain inconspicuous as he meandered through the Old Statehouse, but he was dressed to the nines. The look Farenheit gave him was longsuffering, but she didn't say anything otherwise. When he finally got to Hancock's door--he knocked and adjusted his tie.]
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Eventually he gets what he's aiming for, pleasantly cool water to ease Nick's spike in temperature. ]
Yeah, like I said, The Mayor's an asshole kinda on purpose, but otherwise? Guess I can add a few more terms to the ol' lexicon. In my experience, never hurts to have a sizable vocab... or a couple extra ways to say I love ya
But I'll keep that preference in mind, front and center.
[ the bath fills up quicker with a body in it, so Hancock thinks to leave the pouring taps in favor of making more space for Nick but instead, impulse drives him in the opposite direction. Tonight his apatite for touch seems bottomless as he all but glides through the water and folds his arms across Nick's knee. He props his chin upon his crossed arms and shoots Nick a dreamy stare that boarders on demure. ]
Gunna go with 'both', in this case-- but speakin'a dead on the money, first try? Kinda aside that, I gotta say, I'm a little bummed out to be the second best at, uh, oral congress, in this relationship. But I gotta admit when I'm beat, Slick.
[ Oh look he's in a good mood time to be a cheeky little anarchy imp. ]
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[Nick's just a shade of offended on Hancock's behalf. It supercedes his own flustered reaction to a compliment like that entirely, leaving him looking more confused than anything else.]
I don't know what you're talking about--that was the best I've ever had.
[The fact that Nick has never had any, notwithstanding.
He can't bend far enough to meet Hancock with him hanging off his knee like that, but he can gently nudge the ghoul with his knee, which he does. This is so comfortable, so intimate, even with Hancock vascilating between engenue and imp (not that Nick doesn't love it).]
Besides--it's not a contest.
[
Says the guy who's winning.]no subject
[ The gentle nudge of that knee spurs the ghoul to cling to Nick's calf in stubborn opposition to budging, but a split second later he relents the occupation of the synth's limb and scoots to the side, lending plenty of room in the jacuzzi tub. ]
Course it's not, but if it were, you'd win hands down. That not needing to technically breathe thing? What an unfair advantage, and don't even get me started on the lack of gag reflex. I am one lucky bastard, if I ever felt like braggin about it
So technically, you win? But really, I win. That's the real truth of the matter.
[... Wow Hancock just realized how long they've both been stalled in that baby-doll stare; his grin twists towards sheepish and he finally practices another mechanism of common sense, function over infatuation, and scoops up some water to splash against his own face. ]
...Okay, maybe I do like gettin' clean a little... don't you dare repeat that to another living soul, ya hear? Softer side'a me's just for the future husband. Real private intel
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He doesn't quite sizzle when the water rises up and settles just below Nick's chest, but the temperature of the water does tick up a few degrees very rapidly. The cool water syphons off heat faster than Nick's generally accustomed to and all his metal bits seem to have opinions about that--that is: his ribs, limbs, and the mesh net under his skin literally whine and creak as they indulge in liquid cooling.
It's easy to forget, even for Nick, that the heat that makes it to the other side of that thick silicon is already very dulled. Silicon is a really bad conductor of heat. Some of his more recent parts, however, do a much better job and, before long, his temperature is equalized with the water and the water is considerably warmer than the ambient temperature.]
My lips are sealed. Scout's honor.
[Nick drawls as he relaxes. He props his arms along the edge of the tub, against the tile and well away from the water. This, coincidentally, puts one right behind Hancock's shoulders.]
If you want to do that all again, for science, can't say I'd object...but I have to stress how much I enjoy the reverse.
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Jeez, hot under the collar was the right call, huh? Almost steamed up the place, didn't ya?
[ He's teasing as his fine spirits incline; the uptick in temperature has a nicely relaxing effect on his muscles as the sensations shift from cool to warm the closer he sits to his synth paramour. Those creaks and whines of Nick's mechanics are somehow satisfying too, the yield of the ghoul's thoughtful efforts to ease the issue he absolutely caused. ]
Huh... so that's what it sounds like when ya shiver. Good to know.
[ That arm around his shoulder inclines Hancock to lay (carefully, amid the whorls of water) with his back in the cradle of the synth's elbow. A lazy gravity drags him a few inches downward until his head weighs against Nick's collar as though the ghoul has found a new favorite spot to tuck himself. ]
Mmmm... hey, on a totally unrelated topic, how good are ya at... multitasking?
[ The questions is posed so innocently it somehow circles right back around to criminal in composure. ]
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Am I good at multitasking?
[Asked the synth who was currently running no less than a thousand separate tasks through his CPU. He supposed that there was some nuance to be had in answering--his ability to multitask was directly inverse to how much of his attention Hancock was actively hoarding--but that's not what the ghoul means.]
Depends. [Nick's wry look goes openly curious as he comfortably lets the heat in him dissipate. His fans cut off, mid-sentence, because they're not necessary.] What've you got in mind?
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... You know what? You're a smart guy, pretty sure you can connect the dots. Walk back through what ya just said to me, and try and imagine a reason I might inquire about your ability to split your attention
[ He'll wait. Actually, he'll throw Nick a bone, here. ]
Here's a hint, Slick; I was lyin' about the question being unrelated
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Nick's expression goes skeptical as he thinks it through.
His climax wasn't like Hancock's, insofar as he knew at least. He crashed because his processing was overtasked. He--wouldn't have the stamina for it all.]
Actually...I don't think I can pull that off. [Nick grimaces a little at the turn of phrase, but you get what he means, right?]
My...uh...ability to multitask is pretty tied to how flustered I'm not.
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The veto doesn't do a damn to sour the ghoul's post-rapture high spirits; he nods along in easy, empathetic understanding-- he cracks a grin at the particular phrase and smothers his snickers. ]
Fair enough. Always say, different strokes for different folks. Our To Do list is way too interesting for me to sweat the Do Nots. But hey, ya ever feel like livin' dangerously? I could go real slow, do my very best not to overwhelm ya.
But like I said, nothin' your not here for
[ A comfy sigh has the elated soul lounging, the back of his head resting cozily against Nick's clavicle. ]
This? Right here? This is... good. Real good. -Damn- good.
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[He's going to get too overwhelmed to do much, he knows it right now. Though, admittedly, Hancock would probably take great pride in being able to reduce him to the inability to perform. It's hard to say whether that would be fun or disappointing, but Nick's not opposed, not so long as it's with him.]
And yeah, it is.
[Nick drapes his good hand over Hancock's shoulder and lets the tips of his fingers dip into the water. He draws lazy circles on the surface, idly, as he basks in the moment.]
Tonight was just about everything I could have hoped for. Thanks for playin' along--getting dressed up and all.
...and, you know, agreeing to marry me. That's a pretty big one.
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[ Hancock would absolutely consider it a point of pride to be able to reduce Nick to a state of pleasure-shocked immobility; the bragging rights alone are worth any physical stimulation it could 'cost' him. It's a fun thought to play around with though, and if Nick's down? Eh, the ghoul chucks 'one shy of seventy' solidly in the 'Maybe Later' category.]
You sure pulled out all the stops, hard not to rise to the occasion. You put alot'a heart into... pretty much everything ya do. Especially for me. How's a guy not supposed to fall in love?
[ As blissed out comfortable as Hancock is lounging in the freshly heated water against Nick's chest, this particular breed of affection insists he get closer; he's still degrees more careful with his motions, not wanting to cause an errant splash as he shifts. The semi-weightlessness of being half-submerged makes it easier than usual to climb into Nick's lap and set a thigh on either side of his hips.
Facing his fiancée directly, Hancock can gaze dreamily into Nick's glowing halo eyes as he speaks: ]
So ya don't gotta thank me for bein' a little theatrical, cuttin' the rug with ya or lovin' ya. All comes naturally to me.
[ Cue adoring forehead bump. ]