Vulpes watches as you and Boone set up camp for the night, unbeknownst to the legionnaire tracking you through the desert

he didn’t quite understand why his Caesar had thought of you so important, especially traveling with the profligate Boone: NCR scum who stood against everything that Vulpes fought for

Boone was nothing more than a degenerate, deserving of the cross and to lay his sins in front of the burning sun, but if Caesar deemed you worthy enough of Vulpes attention, then Vulpes would listen and follow

settling down into the dirt and dust of the cracked earth, Vulpes set up his own small quarters, just enough so that he would not be covered in filth when the morning came

he adjusted his hood so that he could peek at the two of you over the rocks he hid behind and so that Boone would not spot and shoot him

nothing in particular happened in the next hour, you chattering useless drivel as Boone listened in his quiet, and Vulpes let the soft breeze carry your voices down to him

as the night set in, the moon cooling the earth and bringing about the noise of the dark, you seemed to settle down as well, only the crackling fire and the sound of clinking bottles filled the air

Vulpes kept watch as Boone cleaned his weapon methodically, practiced hands sliding over the metal with ease, and he flicked his eyes over to you as well, blinking as he saw that you watched Boone’s hands with rapt attention

in the chittering of the night, Vulpes could not hear your conversation but he could see Boone’s lips moving as the sniper glanced toward you and he could see you flinch and then raise your hand to rub the back of your neck in embarrassment

you move your head to the side and then mumble something before taking another sip of your drink, and Boone goes back to his gun, wiping it of its gunpowder and grease

in the next few minutes, your gaze drifts back to Boone’s hands, and Vulpes watches as you lose all interest in your drink, opting to instead lick your lips as you stare

your eyes flick back up to Boone, finding him staring right back at you, but this time you do not look away

Boone clenches hard onto his gun as he stares at you, his lips moving and Vulpes squints, trying to decipher the words

he still cannot hear and can only watch the silent conversation as you say something back, and Vulpes watches as your grip tightens on the drink in your hand

and then Boone raises his hand to cup your cheek, his lips moving once more almost as if asking a question, and you nod

Boone leans forward, kissing you, and you drop the drink in your hand, letting it fall to the ground and spill its contents onto the ground as you move one hand to cup the back of Boone’s neck and move the other to clutch onto Boone’s shoulder

Vulpes clenches his jaw and feels something clench onto his heart as he watches the two of you kiss and claw at each other like wild monsters

Caesar was wrong to be interested in you

indulging in the worldly pleasures of life that did nothing to further your goal was the trait of a degenerate, someone who deserved punishment and death

you acted like a profligate worthy of the cross, and yet Caesar, the son of Mars, still purported that you had great value in spreading the word of the Legion

Vulpes thought that you would be better in the Gomorrah, or perhaps you would be better as his personal whore, his pet, his prize after all he has done for his Caesar

he watches, a sneer on his face, as you fall onto your back, Boone covering the length of your body with his, and he moves his knee against your crotch

a sinful sound leaves you, one that even Vulpes can hear from his distance, and he lets out a breath, something inside of him trembling as he hears you let out more of those noises as Boone lets you grind against his leg

you move your lips from Boone’s to instead bury your face into his neck instead, and Boone lets you hide your face as he grinds his knee into you

a loud punched-out whine leaves you, one that even muffled grinds into Vulpes ears and sends a jolt from his chest down to his stomach

Vulpes could feel the stirrings of his cock inside of his skirt, and he curses at himself, clenching his fist so hard that his nails cut into his palm

it was not his fault, it was because of you, your degeneracy, your filthy sounds sending him further and further into the pleasures of a profligate

he grits his teeth and watches as you let your head flop down onto the floor, almost as if exhausted, and Boone croons at you, his lips dipping down to the nape of your neck

you squirm underneath the man, and he simply continues his assault upon your neck as one hand easily undoes the belts on your pants and then slips one underneath

Vulpes watches as you jolt underneath the touch, openly moaning into the air as your hands scrabble at the Boone’s shoulders

this was filthy, disgusting, a plunge into sin and an indulgence of pleasure and yet Vulpes could not stop watching, could only feel his own cock rise and ache for touch

it was not fault, it was not his fault, Vulpes repeated the mantra to himself as he reached into his skirt and wrapped his hand around the length of himself

he bit his lip to stop the sound that threatened to escape him as he pumped his hand up and down, his eyes never leaving your trembling body as Boone brought you to another high

you let out another sound and then fall limp onto the floor, almost tired, and Boone presses another kiss to your lips before trailing his kisses down your neck

although Vulpes cannot tell for sure what Boone does, he can see how you shake and flinch underneath the ministrations, and he can see Boone take his hat off and then shove it into your mouth to gag you

even through your makeshift gag, Vulpes can still hear your moan, and he lets out a gasp as he rubs his thumb over the slit of his cock, biting his lip when he’s realized his error

you can’t be human to have this hold over him, he was loyal to Caesar, to never indulge in personal pleasures for the sake of pleasure

perhaps you were some sort of heavenly being meant to test him, to test his resolve and his loyalty to the Legion, maybe you had held magic and cast a spell when you had first met him

Vulpes lets out a stuttering breath as he watches Boone jerk your pants down and then pull them off before letting your thighs settle onto his shoulders

one of your arms press over your eyes as if you were embarrassed, and your other hand grips onto his beret to press further into your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle your sounds

it doesn’t matter because Boone presses his head in between your legs, his arms wrapping over your thighs to pull you in closer to him, and you only whine louder

Vulpes can’t turn his eyes away, not when you tremble so…deliciously

he should look away, should sneer at the both of you, should leave and report that you are unfit to Caesar, should kill Boone and take you prisoner during your vulnerability

and yet all he does is grip onto his own cock tighter, suppressing a hiss as he watches you buck your hips into Boone’s mouth

he can feel his mouth go dry as you shake and and tremble and fall apart so easily underneath Boone

it seemed almost unreal, an illusion, the great courier, strong and unyielding, able to fight off ghouls and beasts with ease now trembling and falling apart with something so simple

Vulpes simply watches as Boone seems to lose himself in between your legs, even as you start to whine and whimper and even as tears start to drip your face

he can’t help but think you look so pretty crying and helpless as Boone ignores your pleas that it’s too much

he can’t help but think that you would look prettier if he was the one in between your legs and making you cry all those tears

his hand pumps faster around his cock as he imagines it was him there, that you were making all those sounds for him, that you were crying tears of pleasure because of him and not Boone

snapping his eyes back open, he focuses his gaze back on you as you shake and whine out Boone’s name in a hoarse voice

Boone murmurs something, Vulpes can’t hear it and something aches inside of him when you smile, earnestly smile up at Boone

not one of lust nor politeness nor pride

it’s something different, and Vulpes feels frustration claw at his stomach as you and Boone kiss so tenderly

not like before when you and Boone had been so desperate to touch each other, this time it is more tender, softer, gentler

Vulpes grits his teeth, watching as you rake your nails down Boone’s back through his shirt, watching as Boone takes off the rest of his pants, leaving him in only his shirt

it should look ridiculous, the both of you only half-undressed, and he should attack you both when the both of you are vulnerable

your weapons are scattered in the sand away from you two, his weapon sits right next to his hip, ready to be drawn and slay the both of you

he does nothing but bite his lip and grip onto his cock tighter as he watches Boone push himself into you while the two of you groan in unison, and he continues to watch as Boone rocks in and out of you, his pace speeding up until it’s the filthy sound of his hips slapping against yours

Boone groans quietly, only heard by Vulpes through the breeze, and you whine pitifully, your nails scratching at Boone’s back and your legs wrapped tight around Boone’s waist

even from Vulpe’s spot far from you, he can still hear the filthy squelch of Boone’s cock thrusting into you, and Vulpes wants to shoot Boone down right where he stands

it should be Vulpes there, fucking you into oblivion, not an NCR degenerate

Boone doesn’t deserve to hear all your sweet moans, every filthy pathetic sound that spills from your lips as you slowly start chanting Boone’s name like a prayer

Boone doesn’t deserve to kiss and bite at your neck, feeling your skin against his as your nails drag along his back

Boone doesn’t deserve you

Vulpes lets out a small grunt as you cry out Boone’s name, the NCR profligate groaning out your name as well as his hips slow down and finally come to stop, his cock buried deep inside out of you as he lets you ride out your high

you shake and tremble in Boone’s hold as he lifts his head up to kiss you, and Vulpes feel the last of his seed spill out onto his hands, wasted on the dry earth

it’s disgusting, Vulpes shouldn’t have to be watching you two from a distance, he should be fucking you full of his cum right now, to claim you as his

he wants to hold you down and bite your neck as you moan out his name and beg him to cum

he wants to hear you beg and beg and cry for him as he denies you what you so desperately crave

he wants to feel you fall apart and tremble and shake and gasp all because of him

he wants-

he wants to kiss you and have you look at him the same way you looked at Boone

the sound of rustling fabric brings Vulpes out of his trance, and he watches as the NCR profligate slowly slips out of you, a small whine escaping your lips at the action, and grabs a towel and his water canister from his bag

slowly, Boone cleans you of the dust and grime from the day and from fucking you against the dirt, and you seem grateful, relaxing and swaying slightly and leaning into Boone

Vulpes can feel his jaw becoming sore with how hard he clenches it, and he puts his forehead up against the rock to calm himself, taking a few deep breaths

it doesn’t matter that Boone has you right now

in due time, you would be Vulpes’s, he would make sure of it

you would join the Legion, you would be his, and he would pleasure you greater than any NCR degenerate every could

yes, you would see the error of your ways, and you would be his

he would be the one to make you cry, the one to make you shake, the one to make you moan as you reach your release

he would be the one to…

to kiss you so gently, to clean you up afterwards, to wrap his arms around your body as the both of you bathe in the afterglow and drift off into sleep

Vulpes looks up from his post one last time, engraving the memory of you sleeping peacefully into his mind, before cleaning himself up and laying down to sleep for the night

he would continue following you, he would go back to Caesar and give his report, and then, he would have you

It was always a welcome thing when the sun finally went down.

New Vegas days were hot as the outer circle of hell in the summer, even the winter months leaving you sweating through your clothes by the time you crossed the threshold of your place in the evenings. Like a great many people, the way you earned your living forced you into a great deal of walking, covering seemingly endless ground under the sweltering sun in order to find and deliver certain things. But even with experience, the work was grueling. Even though certain searches would take you pretty far across the map, you tried your very best to be back every night.

You missed your partner too much when you were away for long.

Your scraped-together homestead wasn't much, little more than one of the only fully (well, mostly) intact houses along the little niche of stony hills, crowding in the western edge of what often felt like the only real city in the world. It was far enough away from Boomer territory that you didn't fear an errant strike, but close enough to New Vegas proper that you didn't feel like a complete outcast. Your walk home in the evenings was a bit long, and you kept a sharp eye out for any signs of deathclaws, but the privacy was nice. The peace of mind that your favorite person was at least relatively safe when you were gone was even nicer.

He was safer than he had been before, at least.

Heaving a tired sigh, you finally, mercifully closed in on home. Out front, there was a small cluster of cacti and some banana yucca that he'd been tending as best as he could, rocks stacked strategically around the bases to help properly direct the scant rainwater to their thirsty roots. Honey mesquite trees crept up along the back of the property, so wide now that they touched both one another and the house. The thin green pods that clung to their branches in small clusters shivered in the slight breeze, sending out a the soft hiss of a distant snake.

A few hundred years of wear and tear was difficult to offset, but the house itself had been meticulously cleaned and maintained since the two of you had taken it over. Though it was nearly impossible to keep the sand out completely, it was a clean, quiet refuge of your own away from the world. Most of that feeling could ultimately be chalked up to him, though.

He'd introduced himself to you as "Rotface" when you first met, but you never called him that. It felt far too cruel a name to put on someone you cared about so much. You called him anything else instead, a hundred different pet names and inside jokes. It didn't seem to matter to him. He responded to anything you called him because he was so smitten.

The feeling was mutual.

He was flitting around the kitchen, messing with some cut up something-or-other that smelled amazing when you pushed the door open, and he was by your side before you could even say anything.

"How was your day, handsome?" you asked, leaning into his touch as he helped slide your bag off your back. Though you'd insisted the amount he fussed over you wasn't necessary, it seemed to make him happy to be so doting. He liked to take care of you, so you let him.

"It's much better now that you're back." he responded, wrapping an arm around you and giving you a few soft kisses before disappearing into the other room to put your things away. You lingered near the door to take off your shoes, trying your best to respect his constant efforts to keep the floor somewhat clean. The barely visible eyes in the sun-bleached photos on the walls bore into you while you did.

You wondered, on occasion, about the person or people who'd once lived in the house. Someone had once used the now-discarded bedroom set that had been destroyed by mold, loved the moth-eaten clothes in the closet. Prepped their meals in the kitchen. Did they die when the bombs fell? Did they flee out into the Wasteland in the hopes of finding a new life? Something better? Something worse?

"Well, did you hear anything interesting today?" he asked when he returned to the room, ever the incorrigible gossip. It distracted you from your temporarily melancholy thoughts.

"Mmm, nothing you don't likely already know." you smiled, letting your hands roam up and down his firm chest. He leaned in for another kiss, and you happily gave it.

"Hope you're hungry." he said as he pulled away, once more flying around the dingy kitchen area before disappearing out the back door. Though he did much of the meal prep inside, the oven didn't work, and he feared burning the whole place down by accident, so he finished most meals on a small cookfire in the yard.

The dinner he'd made was great, but they always were. He insisted that he was no chef, his taste buds warped by the radiation exposure, but you really thought he'd come a long way since you'd first started seeing one another. It was quite a talent in your eyes, being able to take a handful of scraped-together Wasteland ingredients and turn them into a meal so good you'd think to request it again in the future. You told him so, too, and the humble grin that broke out across his face at your praise warmed your heart.

After supper, you dismissed yourself to the bathroom to clean yourself up, grimy with sweat and chafed from the grit of sand stuck to your skin. Though you had no real functional indoor plumbing, the tub still drained into somewhere, so you'd stand in it and give yourself a makeshift shower with a small bucket. Ever happy to have an excuse to peek in on you, he brought you extra water for rinsing and helped dry you off when you were finished, only openly groping you a few times in the process.

"Ugh." you groaned as you stepped out of the cracked tub, your whole body aching from the day's exertion.

"You know, if you need a rub-down, I'm always happy to provide." he offered, barely able to keep his eyes on your face.

You giggled at his lusty behavior, but the idea made your ears genuinely perk up. Horny or not, he'd given you some pretty amazing massages before.

"Sounds great." you agreed, leaning close.

A moment later, he'd spread a clean towel out on the living room floor to protect you from the sand and gestured to it as you stood naked in the entrance to the hall.

"On the floor?" you asked, hesitation creeping into your voice. For obvious reasons, this sort of thing typically happened on the bed.

"Trust me." he said.

You settled yourself down onto the floor, spreading out on your stomach, and looked up at him expectantly. Popping across the open room into the kitchen once more, he rummaged through a cabinet before reappearing at your side. He held the small bottle of cooking oil with a flourish, showing it off like a game show model flaunting a prize. There was a devious glint in his eye as he set it down on the floor near your feet.

"I've got nothing but time to make plans during the day." he grinned. As he finished speaking, he paused to draw his shirt over his head, folding and carefully placing it aside. It made you chuckle.

"What?" he asked, smiling at the sound of your laughter as he worked the button of his pants open. "I'm a very thorough masseuse and I don't wanna ruin my clothes."

"Oh, I see." you replied, nodding along seriously as you continued to watch him undress out of the corner of your eye. Sure, he was heavily scarred and hairless like most ghouls, but he also had an intriguing amount of lean muscle that had initially drawn your eye to him. You turned your head away before he stripped out of his underwear, not wanting to be caught leering, as it would only give him more ammunition to tease you with.

Carefully, he took his place on the floor beside you, sitting cross-legged and flush with your hip.

"Are we ready?" he asked.

"Plenty."

You could feel your cheeks heating up by a few degrees as he seated himself cautiously over you, straddling your calves with his thighs and keeping most of his weight in his legs. When he stretched his body over yours to rub at your shoulders, you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin.

"Geez, you weren't joking. You're half knots." he said as he kneaded into the muscles.

A joke formed on your tongue, but all that rolled off was a half-shocked groan of pain and relief as he skimmed his palms up your back again, along where the straps of your bag rested across your shoulders. You could feel the knots he was referring to slowly loosening with each pass, and you let out a pitiful sigh.

"Poor thing. Hopefully I can help you relax." he tutted playfully, letting his already hardening length skim along the cleft of your ass as he continued his ministrations.

"Oh, I imagine you'll find a way." you grinned, eyes closed as you let your head rest against your arms.

Though you could tell he was eager to get his hands on you in a different way, the growing evidence of it poking you in the back, he was very generous with you, spending a considerable amount of time working each part of your sore, tight back. Slowly, he kneaded down your flanks and spine, those rough, skilled fingers earning more and more sounds from you.

You'd almost forgotten about the oil until you heard the tiny cap snap open.

"Ah!" you gasped as the cool, thin substance ran down your spine, pooling in the dip of your lower back.

Your lover chuckled at the sound, spreading the stuff across your skin and pressing more of his weight into the strokes of his hands. The feeling drew another pleased moan from you, but this time it was answered by a low, throaty groan of his own.

"God, you're sexy." he praised, hands beginning to paw at the meat of your ass. You felt your teeth digging into your lower lip, biting back a smirk as you let your back arch towards him a bit.

The massage was starting to derail a bit, the way he kneaded at your glutes increasingly focused on simply filling his hands with as much flesh as he could manage. When his fingers finally slipped between your thighs, however, pretty much all pretense melted away. Your breath hitched noticeably as he touched you softly. Just like with the back rub, he was patient, studying every inch of you meticulously before moving onto the next.

It was easy to lose yourself in this kind of rub-down, too, though in the sort of way that left you moaning and bucking against his hand instead of nodding off. Behind you, his breathing was heavy, his body twisted so that he could rub his hard cock against your thigh while he continued to play with you.

He didn't complain quite as much about his joints, or any of the other sort of aches and pains that many of the ghouls you'd met in the past seemed to. Then again, most of the other ghouls you'd met had been around since the War. Your lover was still of an actual human age, despite how much the ghoulification process had affected his looks, and it seemed to you that it was reflected in his sex drive.

"Oh, fuck." you groaned when his fingers eventually found your entrance, teasing just around the edge.

"I've been thinking about this all day." he muttered, low and lusty as he began to stretch you. It didn't take long for you to grow frustrated with the tormenting amount of stimulation he was giving. Whining pitifully as you opened your thighs further, your ass pressed upwards until you were presenting yourself to him like an animal in heat.

"Fuck me." you pleaded, every cell in your body crying out like you'd die without him inside you.

He snarled at that, slick hands seizing you by your wrists, upper body pinning yours down to the floor as he arched his hips sharply, slipping right into place once more.

"Say it again." he ordered, though it came across as more of a barely-disguised plea.

It was difficult to untie your tongue from the knot it had worked itself into, but you managed to give him what he wanted.

"Fuck me, baby." you breathed, quiet but clear. The moan that followed as he slid halfway into you was much less quiet.

His generous patience seemed to be wearing thin as he gave a few more shallow thrusts, burying himself to the hilt rather easily. Both of you hummed in satisfaction at the feeling. Those hands of his loosened their hold on your arms and slid down to grip at your hips instead, holding them firmly as he drove into you over and over again. Skin slippery against yours, it was easy for him to sink a hand beneath you, easily resuming the rhythm he'd been strumming out against you and making you clench.

Before you knew it, your whole body was knotted up tight again, from your fists wadding into the material of the towel beneath you to the way your back arched up at him. However, when you started into your orgasm, your muscles failed you, and you collapsed into a twitching heap as you cried out. Your boyfriend wasn't far behind, pushing as deep inside you as possible and grinding, slick and hot, until he exploded, too.

For several long minutes, you cuddled on the dusty floor, a pile of flesh and limbs turned to jelly. It gave you goosebumps when he craned his neck to press sweet kisses down the sweaty nape of yours. Eventually, you had to extract yourself, your arm all pins and needles.

"I am completely covered in oil now." you chuckled, trying in vain to massage the stuff into your skin.

"Oh no! Poor baby." he said in feigned sympathy, pulling himself back to his feet and wrapping an arm around your waist. "I guess you'll have to have another rinse off. I'll join you."

"Is that right?" you asked as you let him tug you along back towards the bathroom. His erection had never completely deflated.

"Of course. Gotta save water, after all."