Dancin until dawn.

[robotdick]

[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.]

Comments

[chem_break]

[ Hancock probably would remember his reluctance to undress if he'd been stepping out with anyone but Nick-- but he hadn't. There's simply no need, his synth fiancée never leaves him wanting. That persistent anxiety about relinquishing his costume gets quieter and quieter every time Hancock strips for his paramour, and he pays it less thought upon each reoccurrence. Would the worry persist if it wasn't Nick he was dancing with? Maybe, but it's feeling more and more like a moot point. ]

Hmmm... [ A theatrically pensive look crosses Hancock's face as he takes his time to weigh each option ] Probably gunna depend on the situation? But soft answer? Both.

[ Even odds on if he's joking or serious, that dusk-shadow chuckle is no clear indication; Nick's belt slides free with as much haste as every other action as the ghoul winds the leather around his palm, collecting lazy coils. ]

Not that I can't defend my own honor, mind ya, just love to see a good man bend over backwards for me. Metaphorically. Usually.

[ He can't resist the persistent demanding urge to lounge closer, curling to that spot he fits so nicely against Nick's collar, tucked to his chest, as he slides his fingers beneath the slack of the synth's waistband. ]

Really do appreciate the offer'a chivalry, Mr. Valentine

[robotdick]

[It's Nick's turn for a dry chuckle as Hancock picks both and, with excruciating slowness, pulls Nick's belt free from his slacks. He tucks himself back into that nice open space, the one shaped like him, and Nick's briefly torn between wanting to wrap his arms around Hancock in a perfectly (mostly) chaste embrace and, well, wanting to bend over backward for him.]

Oh, I know you don't need my help. The poor bastard harassing you does--getting socked in the face by a synth is basically the best option for 'im.

[He can't quite resist the urge to wrap a hand around the back of Hancock's head and pull him in, tucking him as close as possible. Bare fingers insinuate themselves on flesh that Nick rarely thinks about, smoothing over his hips, and Nick lets his own hands drift to the nape of Hancock's neck and the small of his back.]

You know, I got the urge for a soak. You alright with sharing the bath with me?

[chem_break]

Don't mean that I don't appreciate the effort. Aside'a the sexy vibe of you bustin some teeth for me? Real sweet that ya'd even wanna raise a fist for the cause my dignity

[ He feels adrift in the most peaceful sense of belonging as Nick closes a hand around the back of his head, and cradles him through a cuddle; he sighs comfortably to the tenderly creeping touch down his neck and spine. ]

Sweetheart suits you as well as me, but I gotta try an' win some points for originality

[ His sated murmurs cut off at Nick's offer to share a bath; Hancock perks up with a soft but delighted smile, already nodding his agreement. Water and Nick don't mix often, Hancock will absolutely take advantage of the rare occasion. ]

Somethin, somethin, toaster in bathtub joke. There, outta the way. Let's do it.

[ One might guess from the ghoul's grin that someone just offered him a shiny new gun to play with; the level of jubilation is quite on par. Kid in a candy store on Christmas eve, or however the hell that goes. ]

[robotdick]

You want to try out a different pet name? I'm all ears.

[Hancock's all shiny eyes and soft smiles, jumping at the chance and Nick gives him a fond look as he moves toward the washroom. Or, rather, as he tries to move toward the washroom. Without his belt, Nick's not got much definition holding his pants up and he ends up having to undo them and kick them off. Now the only pieces of clothing that Nick has on Hancock are his hat and shoes, but both those are easily dealt with.

Snow, helpful (apologetic) AI that it is, flips on the runner lights as they step into the bathroom. It's not a great amount of light for getting ready, but the halflight is as dreamy here as it was upstairs. Nick bends to press a kiss to Hancock's forehead before he breaks away and goes to activate the taps and fill the tub.

In truth, he will probably always be jumpy about water, but nowadays he's mostly water-tight. So long as Hancock doesn't dunk him and nobody splashes, this should be fine. It's also a much faster way to clean off all the mess that soaked through his own clothing. It's doubly nice because he has someone to enjoy it with him.]

I'm gonna veto Toaster, right now though.

[chem_break]

Think my usual rotations pretty well suited. Sunshine, 'cuz ya light up my life. Gorgeous, when you're close to crashin. Think only The Mayor would leverage 'doll' at ya cuz he's kind of a dick but he thinks you got a pretty mouth. What else I got...

[ Hancock's post-buzz state of vision appreciates the low lights as he strolls comfortably into the bathroom. For once in a blue moon he actually manages to toss his clothing into the open washer, and someone really ought to award him several medals for the feat. The kiss to his forehead is quite a fair accommodation, earning a pleased little smirk from the slighter man as his paramour parts from him to attend those taps. ]

Valentine-o-mine, cuz'a the blitzed and beautiful look on your face first time I said it. Think that about covers it? Suppose with the whole pending matrimony thing I could get away with Darlin'... you're so sweet to me, could call ya Sugar

[ He meanders through a few idle suggestions, ears keen for the sounds of struggling fans; he's taking shots in the dark here, but ghouls have fair night vision. He's got an idea where to aim. On the way to the tub Hancock steals Nick's hat (not actually too terrible soiled, thanks to its altitude) and flings it dexterously towards the washer like a frisbee; it catches the corner of the machine and hangs there neatly.

Satisfied with his breezy showmanship the ghoul drops himself into the bath; he can never be assed to wait for the thing to fill up properly unless he's otherwise occupied, and tonight with Nick scrubbing off with him, the impatience treads right into eagerness. He doesn't verbally hurry Nick to join him, still empathetic to the synth's edginess around water beneath his own delight at the prospect of a shared bath. ]

Could cut the extra finesse and just say it plain, call ya my heart. Any'a those ring your bell, Slick?

[ Of course he sneaks in that last one, a personal favorite he can't leave unspoken. ]

[robotdick]

[Hancock drapes himself into the tub, lounging in the space like it was made for him. The taps groan and whine in the walls, but once they start filling the tub they keep it down to the occasional thunking rattle. The rising water catches the lights and reflects prettily off of Hancock's eyes as he drops his last comment.

Unfortunately for him (and his erstwhile investigation) Nick's fans haven't stopped since he put a pause on that little bit of savior roleplay. He hadn't been joking about that cute act pushing him too close to overheating. Hancock, however, does have a pretty keen ear for the power state of his fans (impressive considering he doesn't have ears), so he may catch a few of the stutters between the groaning of the pipes and the rush of warm water.

Valentine-o-mine will always hold a special spot in his database, but it's right up there with Slick and Sunshine. Really, none of those suggestions were bad and it was a world more flattery than Nick is used to contending with. The one that really makes his fans jump, though, is 'my heart'. He's a romantic, deep down in his code, and that sort of precious, Hallmark language gets him every time. The wasteland isn't made for language like that, though, so he doesn't expect it...but it hits every time.]

Solid assortment you got there. [Nick tries to make a show of considering them all, perched on the edge of the tub, waiting for the water to rise before he climbs in. He's mostly just staring into Hancock's eyes, though.]

Not sure I'd be too pleased with Doll entering the regular rotation, of course, but I like em all just fine. If I had to pick a favorite?

Mmmm--gotta go with Slick. [Nick shrugs a little and idly toes off his shoes so he can twist and drop his fancy watertight legs right on in the drink. Last time they did this, he'd shut off part of his sensor net to avoid getting overwhelmed--this time, he's...sorta looking forward to the all-around nature of it.]

Sometimes you hit it dead on the money, first try. Or maybe I'm just sentimental. Or both, hard to say.

[chem_break]

[ A stray thought strikes and the ghoul steals a moment to tempt fate and fiddle with the relatively quiet taps; they punish him with a mortified, ungodly high-pitched whine and suddenly Hancock is muttering 'Christ' and 'sorry ladies' and 'okay shut the hell up now' under his breath as he scrambles to find the acceptable safe-combo balance of hot and cold that with both yield the temperature he wants and hush the temperamental pipes.

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. ]

[robotdick]

What?

[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.]

[chem_break]

Okay, well that's not much of a complement until ya give me a couple more shots, at least. You got no baseline-- you can't hypothesis off one data-point, that's just bad science. Irresponsible, is what it is

[ 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

[robotdick]

[Hancock splashes his face and Nick reaches to turn off the taps and silence the pipes. He holds off sinking into the water until Hancock's finished scrubbing at his face--just an overabundance of caution around splashing, old habits and all--but when he does? It's actually divine. The cold water, turns out, was a brilliant move and the abrupt shock of it against his overheated silicon is making a really, really strong case for regular bathing.

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.

[chem_break]

[ as an amateur chemist Hancock grasps enough basic science to understand temperature transference; he notices immediately as the water heats up and the overt physical reaction (though problematic for computers in general) gratifies him quite luridly. ]

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. ]

[robotdick]

[Earlier this evening, Nick asked if Hancock was into vanilla and, by all accounts, set himself up for the wry look his paramour shot him. This question gets a cocked eyebrow from Nick and a huff of a laugh. His wits are working much quicker than they had been, what with all the liquid cooling happening.]

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?

[chem_break]

[ Hancock makes a mental bet with himself that the water is about to get a little warmer. He takes a moment to shift in his seat, turn so he can angle a coy little stare at Nick with his cheek still pressed to the synth's shoulder; he has no eyelashes to bat, but the motion triggers regardless as his grin tips towards saccharine-scandalous. ]

... 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

[robotdick]

[It takes Nick longer than he'd like to admit to put two and two together here. Hancock's wins that bet against himself when Nick does and his imagination runs a bit wild. He'd never actually considered that...largely because, up until recently, he'd never actually had a dick to use. He supposes it makes sense, people would have tried that sort of thing, but could he?

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.

[chem_break]

[ On the one hand Nick is a detective, but on the other, he just figured out a fresh new fondness for oral sex, so Hancock supposes he can cut the guy some slack for his processing time here. The silent moment Nick catches on is beautiful to behold, and absolutely worth the wait for him to trip into the conclusion. Synth mechanics have a different language of arousal, but damn if he isn't a willing and eager student of the tongue.

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.

[robotdick]

I'm here for it I just...uh...don't hold out a lot of hope for my skills in that department.

[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.

[chem_break]

I mean, there's gotta be something in the bedroom department you're not freakishly good at, probably help me sleep better at night to find it. You know how hard it is to remain gracious when you're so consistently outclassed?

[ 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. ]