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deepest-dope · 2 years

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Here’s a bit of Cave Mann fiction, his first ever actual meeting with Great Khans, that I’m going to blame evacuate-the-mojave for because I went through all his posts about Jessup and it ended up making me love the man and his brothers. for context of why I don’t ever use Cave’s name it’s because this is after he forgets the name his parents gave him but before his friends start calling him Caveman (which becomes Cave Mann when he gets arrested and sent to NCRCF)

He’s crouched behind some rocks, breathing as quietly as he can, poking his head over to check on the NCR patrol regularly, nerves burning with anxiety and perhaps a little sunburn. The troops haven’t noticed shit because the NCR doesn’t teach them how to tell when they’re being stalked for some reason but there's no way the Khans across the road haven’t seen him. He grits his teeth and squats back down, trying to subtly scoot himself into what little shade the stone will give him. Maybe they’re just scouts and will leave him and the squad of soldiers alone for now? But that might be a bit too much to hope for, even not knowing much about Great Khans favored raiding tactics he’s pretty sure scouts don’t stalk anyone like this.

Fuck. He desperately needs the supplies these troops are carrying. He’s not going to last long out here on his own without food and water. He has to get supplies here and now. There’s no way in hell he’s gonna be able to fight the Khans and the NCR troopers one after the other but that’s fine probably, he just needs to adjust his original plan of “creeping up onto the patrol while most of them are asleep” to “wait for the Khans to strike then run through and snatch something in the confusion”. It’s a fine plan, one that's worked for many a Jackal before him. Plus the Khans are doing pretty well for themselves out in the mojave. They probably won’t miss what he takes.

He pokes his head over the rock to check on the troops again, ends up making accidental eye contact with one of the Khans, one with screaming bright orange hair and tries to grin, to set them at ease? Let them know he’s a Jackal so not interested in a fight? He’s not quite sure in or after that moment but judging by the look on the Khan’s face it’s more like he bared his teeth in a threat display. He ducks back down for now. Screw it all he’s just going to snatch and dash with the nearest duffel bag to him.

He can feel the sunset coming on already, just a matter of time, he can’t see or hear shit the khans are doing from where he’s crouched but he knows that like the Jackals, Great Khans sensibly prefer to do most work at night, instead of toiling away in the scorching hot desert wearing layers of clothing under armor like the NCR seems set on doing. For some reason. He’s never claimed to know what goes on in any NCR citizens head, let alone what made General Oliver think full length sleeves under breast plate with gloves and arm wraps cutting off any potential airflow was the way to go in the desert but he’s never going to complain about being able to pick free supplies off soldiers collapsed from heatstroke, especially not now that he’s on his own.

The sun starts to set, he watches the sky from his blanket of shadow and waits for the telltale sound of Great Khans jumping NCR recruits. He shifts to a sort of sprinters crouch, peeking beyond the rock to pick out the trooper closest to his side of the road, catches the familiar roar of Great Khans and bolts towards his mark, grabbing their duffel bag and crashing into their side at once before continuing to run forward to pull it off them and knock them into the dirt to take off with it. He proceeds to sprint off into the desert as the Khans start working through every other trooper before they can stop him from making off with part of their loot. Or he thinks he did?

He’s still running towards his planned hideout before he notices it, the unnerving sound of a second pair of footsteps catching up to him. He barely slows enough to pull the bag onto his back before speeding up again to sprint faster, hoping to lose what he guesses is the trooper he robbed so he can check the bag to see whats apparently valuable enough to abandon your unit to Great Khans to chase after. He can see the old brick building on the horizon already.

As soon as he’s in spitting distance of the crumbling house he leans forward to gain a little more speed to kick off the flat wide stone just below the hole in the wall he uses to get into the otherwise inaccessible 2nd floor, dragging himself inside and skittering across the floor to turn back towards the hole to make sure he’s not been followed. Panting, he watches the hole from across the room waiting to make sure his pursuer isn't going to make it up after him. He doesn’t see any hands or helmets crest the bottom of the open wall for a good minute and after a few more minutes pass, he decides to creep forward to peak out and see if they given up.

Its then that he hears it, the shaking of the dead tree next to the house, branches creaking as some fool tries to climb it, someone grunting as they pull themselves up into a dead tree. He can’t really help himself after that, standing up fully tossing caution aside to walk forward and get a good look at the idiot that's about to be dropped on their empty head when dry branch snaps. Its the Bright Orange Great Khan himself, who he made eye contact with earlier that day. He’s way up the tree, dangling off the branch with three limbs like a sloth reaching towards a higher branch slightly closer to the building and crucially closer to the entrance of his hideout, wedging his foot between two branches for leverage.

He’s helpless to stop himself, the dumbfounded surprise bubbling up and out his throat into, “What. the Fuck?’

The Khan flinches and misses grabbing his next branch as the one he’s currently clung to starts to give out above him and lets loose a startled shout as he falls, before being swung against the trunk and smacking his face into the bark with a yelp, dangling from where his ankles now caught between the trees limbs.

His jaw falls open and he can’t do anything but stare as the Mighty Great Khan sways in the air, cussing about banging his head against the trunk, not even slightly afraid anymore just deeply deeply confused over the whole ordeal. He’s only broken out of his reverie by a voice cutting through the quiet night air.

“Jessup?!?”

He and the Khan both turn to look at the newcomer to their bizarre situation, the biggest blondest hunk of Great Khan this Jackal has ever seen in his life. He ends up turning his open mouthed boggle eyed stare to the newcomer completely unthinking.

“Chance! Help I’m stuck!”

The newly named Chance proceeds to stand there and look up at Jessup with a mixture of surprise, confusion, perhaps a slight amount of disappointment for a few moments before asking with his head in his hands, “Why are you up a tree? How did you even get up there?” and fully settling onto confusion. He stops to look around for a moment before spotting him. They share a brief moment of quietly confused eye contact before they are once again interrupted.

“Chance! Did you find- Jessup?! What happened? Why are you up there?”

The Khan hanging by his ankle from the tree opens and closes his mouth a few times floundering and confusedly waving his hands around his head before shrugging his shoulders awkwardly. The new arrival makes a sharp hiss that may have been What do you mean you don’t know before Chance elbows him to point out the Jackal, who is unable to do anything but shrug equally confused.

Chance ignores this and turns to Jessup, asking in a tone he barely remembers from being a child in the vault when his older siblings caught him doing something real dumb while their parents were gone, “Why did you chase the Jackal? I thought I told you to leave ‘im alone and he wouldn’t bother us?” to which Jessup once again shrugs “I don’t really know? I just saw him run by and before I really realized it I was just chasing him?” clearing nothing up for anyone.

It is at this moment the Jackal realizes, dear god, this is baby’s first ever raiding party. His brain finally giving out on him, he falls into a crouch with his hands steepled in front of his face and waits for his mind to reactivate for a few moments. When he regains his senses its to Chance with As-of-yet-Unnamed Khan stood on his shoulders trying to pull Jessup down or himself up? He doesn’t know but before he can stop himself he barks “What the fuck are you doing you’re gonna break his ankle like that” instantly catching the attention of about 3 more Khans then he’d like.

“Well how do YOU think we should get him down?!”

To which the Jackal thinks for a moment before shrugging off the duffel bag and his coat, ties the sleeves together, takes a moment to awkwardly lasso it to a branch above Jessup and tells him to grab it, before sidling out onto the ledge on the side of the building to try and reach the branches holding him up.

He stops to say, “You two get under him and be ready to catch him, I’m gonna try and pry the branches on his foot apart” before leaning forward to grab at them without waiting for an answer. He just manages to grab one with one hand without falling and gets to prying them apart, Jessup falls relatively unharmed into the arms of Chance and Mystery Khan, which is better off then the Jackal, because the branches that dutifully held the Khan aloft for the past 20 minutes decided to immediately break upon releasing him just to fuck the poor bastard over, because of course they’d do that to him. After the old man died and left him to get kicked out of the family, and he’s been on the run again, starving again with hardly any food or water to forage!

He’s broken out of his angsty internal monologue by Jessup, “Dude are you crying?” he sounds somewhat incredulous for some reason, the freshly 15 year old Jackal lifts his head to impulsively bark back “Yeah so?” with as much hostility as he can muster but it doesn’t really do much to ward the Khans off when he’s more visibly a little twig on the ground, now with tears in his eyes. Chance is actually bending down to get a closer look at him, and Still Nameless starts doing that weird shuffle younger kids do when they think they should go get an adult but don’t know who. Jessup himself sits down next to him to rub his ankle. The Jackal drops his face back on the ground

#fallout fanfic #courier six oc #Jessup #Chance #Mcmurphy #as the unnamed 3rd khan #fallout new vegas #I have once again spent all day writing about my oc #look at him #lmao #Jess saw something running out of the corner of his and his hindbrain kicked on and made him chase it #meanwhile chance knows jackals only get #this close to great khans or armed ncr soldiers if they're very desperate #I didnt open the bag in story #but inside of the duffel bag is grenade rifle that becomes the love of cave's life #the concern shown towards the end is because they think he's a kid #he had an extremely late puberty #yknow cause of his malnutrition #he's 4'7 with squeaky voice in this

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papakhan · 4 months

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Other than the horrible feeling inside his skull, Manny Vargas felt… good. Better than he had done in weeks. His cheeks were sore from laughing, his throat ached from talking, but his heart soared. The warm feeling in his chest was more than just alcohol. It was nostalgic, being back with the Khans. Their songs were just the same as Manny remembered. All cheering and dancing and swinging eachother around. Not even the man in the checkered suit sitting sourly in the corner could dispel the feeling of joy in that room.

I wrote ANOTHER Manny Vargas fic this time featuring Benny :) this takes place during the main story of FNV when the Khans and Benny stay at Manny's place in Novac

I'm also gonna mirror it right here

“Do not let Jessup buy any of those fuckin’ toys.” McMurphy said as he trudged up the stairs.

Not even a second passed after the door slammed, and Cliff waved one of those ever-so-tempting Dinky the Dinosaur toys, “Aw now don’t listen to him. You’ll never forgive yourself if you walk away now!”

Cliff Briscoe deserved some credit, he was completely undeterred by the sight of half a dozen Khans piling into his shop. In fact, he was delighted to see them. Most shopkeepers kept wary eyes on Khans, waiting for them to slip something into their pockets. But not Cliff Briscoe.

“No dice,” Benny said, pushing his way to the front, “We don’t want any of your junk, pal.”

Briscoe’s eyebrows knitted together as he scanned Benny. The Mojave dirt had somewhat diminished the crispness of Benny’s suit, but it still screamed ‘Hot Shot Casino Owner’ no matter how many days in a row he’d worn it. Though nowadays that seemed more like ‘Hot Shot Casino Owner After Wrestling With Six Khans’.

Still, ever resolute, Cliff pushed on, “Well… what are you looking for?”

“We’re not looking for anything, get it?” Benny snapped, and Jessup scowled at him.

“You got any slugs man? Twenty gage.” Jessup asked, leaning on the countertop to run a finger along the dinosaur’s spines, eyes wide with temptation.

Benny tutted, “And how are you gonna pay for that, genius?”

Jessup snapped upright. He shoved his face in Benny’s, lips pulled back in a snarl, “Get the fuck off my back.”

Benny’s mask cracked as he jolted away from Jessup, like snatching a hand away from a dog about to bite. Cliff eyed the pair hesitantly. One of the other Khans laughed. Jessup held fast, his stance daring Benny to get closer.

Benny was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. He raised his hands after a moment, placatingly, “Fine, do what you want.”

Jessup wrinkled his nose, then spat on the ground between them. Both Benny and Briscoe pulled a face, though Briscoe’s quickly disappeared as Jessup turned back to face him. Benny stalked away to another corner of the store, ignoring the Khans jeering at him. One of them elbowed him, Destiny--or ‘Eyepatch’ as Benny had taken to calling her in his head.

“Serves you right, dumbass,” She snickered as she flicked the lapel of his suit jacket, “Hasselin’ Jess when he ain’t sleepin’ right.”

Benny swore he’d never hit a woman, but he smacked Eyepatch’s arm away without thinking. She returned the favour by jabbing him in the ribs. Benny recoiled away, taking a learnt-- slightly out of practice --defensive stance.

“You hit me again girlie, and none of you are getting paid.” He hissed.

“I’m just playing, man. Don’t have to be so stuck up all the time.”

Benny ignored her, pretending to be very interested in the signed baseball cards framed on the wall instead of rubbing where she’d jabbed him. What he wouldn’t give to drop these idiots tonight and make his own way back to Vegas. But it was too many days away. He couldn’t risk sleeping unguarded. At least if the Khans robbed him in his sleep, he’d know where to start looking for the chip.

Not that they would. They weren’t exactly loyal, but they kept their word. It was almost nostalgic. The old style of honour big gangs like the Khans believed in. What the Boot Riders used to believe in. Not much honour left on the Strip these days, even Benny could see that.

He had to wonder if this ‘associate’ they were banking on lending them a room subscribed to the same worldview. As they’d approached Novac, McMurphy had raised an open palm to the dinosaur. He hadn’t elaborated much. ‘An old friend’, he’d said. Benny had heard some muttering from the other Khans, a couple of names he hadn’t heard before. It seemed that some were not as excited about this reunion as others.

The bell above the door jingled and a hush fell over the store.

“Oh, hey there Ranger Andy,” Cliff said cheerily, words that made Benny’s head jerk up. A fucking ranger? Here? Seriously?

Benny eyed each of the Khans, trying to guess which would step out of line and start shit with a ranger. None of them moved an inch, their gazes fixed on the Ranger who was wearing his full uniform and leaning heavily on a cane. All except Jessup, who kept his back to Andy and Benny. The Ranger licked his lips, glancing around at all the Khans in the tiny room.

“Uh, howdy Cliff. You alright there?” The Ranger spoke carefully, watching Cliff like he was waiting for him to blink SOS.

“Oh you know how business is these days, but I’m just fine.” Cliff replied cheerily, entirely oblivious to the look the Ranger was giving him, “I haven’t had any more of those holotapes you like, but I still got plenty of Dinkies!”

Benny watched Jessup, glaring at the back of his head waiting for any twitch. As if just staring at him could root him to the spot. Jessup may have had the old-style honour of the Boot Riders, but he didn’t have the obedience. But Jessup only glared at the countertop.

“Right.” The Ranger said, standing his ground, “Sure Cliff, you just let me know.”

Another door opened up above and a hot breeze blew in, carrying with it a pair of gruff voices. One belonged to McMurphy, and the other belonged to the assumed “friend”. No one in the room moved as the voices got closer until McMurphy reappeared and frowned at the stand-off, only to roll his eyes at the sight of it. No help there then.

“Friends of yours, Vargas?” The Ranger said.

“Uh,” This Vargas stepped out from behind the taller McMurphy and glanced at the gathered group, the bright blaring red of his beret the first and only thing Benny noticed, “Yeah, sorry Andy, forgot to tell you.”

“You’re not in the army anymore, son, you don’t need to check guests in with me,” Ranger Andy sounded miles more relaxed now than he did moments ago, “I can’t tell you what company to keep, was just a surprise on my afternoon visits, is all.”

Eyepatch beside Benny glared daggers at Vargas. The word ‘anymore’ had Benny’s ears pricked. An army boy, friends with some Khans? Benny didn’t like the NCR, but he was never one to turn down gossip. The way he heard it, they recruited just about anybody, and former raiders were a particular favourite of theirs. Like House to the gangs of The Strip, cushy digs could buy loyalty from a lot of people.

Not that Benny would sell out for anything less than what House came a’knocking with. He could at least rest easy knowing he would never scrub out his own identity for straw army cots and marching laps at the crack of dawn. No no no, it took far more than that. He had what some might call ‘standards’.

Vargas-- or “Manny” as the other Khans took to calling him, led their little band across the courtyard, earning even more raised eyebrows than when McMurphy had done the same earlier. Benny kept his head down, knowing his suit was loud enough on its own. He chewed on the information he’d gathered on Manny so far, which admittedly wasn’t much. A lot more attached to his clothes than the Khans seemed to be. Less scant leather, more cable knit red sweater.

As Manny worked on unlocking the door to his apartment, Benny’s eyes trailed to Manny’s boots. Soft leather, scuffed and dirty. Not one who took his soldier training to heart, it seemed. And, judging by the tattoos peeking out from under Manny’s long-sleeve shirt, not one who took pride in his old gang ink.

Manny pried his door open and ushered the group inside. The room was small and dingy, a bed, kitchen and diner all rolled into one, but compared to how Benny had been sleeping these past few days, it was a palace. Benny revelled in the soft carpet floors underfoot, considering how he’d felt every rock and bump in the road through his dress shoes. His eyes fell immediately on the double bed as Manny hurriedly picked up sheets from the floor and rearranged the pillows. So this visit was not expected, Benny realised. The single bulb overhead buzzed to life as McMurphy flipped a switch. Benny eyed him too, McMurphy was very… comfortable here. Like he’d been here many times before.

“Sit down somewhere, jeez,” Manny said and the Khans took that as a cue to flop onto the couch and promptly start fighting over space. Great. Five Khans, one ex-Khan and Benny between one couch and one double bed.

Benny glanced skywards again, squinting at the bulb. If Manny Vargas had electricity, did that mean…

“You got one ring-a-ding pad pal,” Benny said, sauntering over to Manny as he tidied up a stained mug and bowl that looked as if they’d been out for days, “Think you can answer my prayers and tell me you got hot water too?”

Manny stared at him like it was the first time he’d noticed there was a non-Khan amongst them. Though knowing he was a sniper, Benny could say with some certainty that it was an act. He didn’t even process that Manny might be staring at him like that for the nonsense words that’d just spilt from him. Manny looked down at Benny’s dress shoes, then back up at his slicked hair. Though slick with his own grease now, more than the pomade he’d applied days ago.

“You gonna pay my water bill, buddy?”

“You’re guarding the town all day and they still make you pay bills?” Benny probed, “Sheesh pal, they’re really wringing you dry.”

This time, Manny laughed. He dumped his cup and bowl in the sink and raised his hands in mock surrender, “Alright, you got me. I don’t pay for the water. But my landlady will get mad with me if we use too much.”

“Oh come on, now you’re just teasing me,” Benny said.

“Look man, I don’t even know you--”

“See! Exactly! You don’t know me! So why don’t you and your friends play catch up while I scrub the grime off my poor skin, whaddya say?”

Manny sighed, chewing the inside of his lip in what Benny hoped was serious consideration. His dark eyes flitted to the Khans like a cry for help.

“Please baby, just give me an hour alone with the shower.” Benny clasped his hands together, “Shall I beg? Look, you'll get the Ben-man down on his knees. I'll do it but it won't be pretty,”

“Yeah go on! Beg!” Jessup crowed from the couch, “I wanna see!”

Benny stopped to glare daggers at Jessup. Then turned back to Manny and flashed his best puppy-dog eyes. Manny pursed his lips, then glanced over at the Khans, grinning, and for a moment Benny was afraid Manny was about to make good on the begging act. But instead, Manny shrugged his shoulders and nodded to the bathroom.

“Go for it, man,”

“I could kiss you.”

“Yeah, you don’t need to do that.”

When Manny stepped into the dim light of the motel courtyard he pressed his back against the door of his room and took a steadying breath. The pleasant buzz of alcohol had started to creep towards a messy blur. He wasn’t a young man anymore, drinking every night on leave. When was the last time he’d had a drink?

Manny scrubbed his face, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes in the hopes of stopping the feeling of the world rocking around him. Or at least stop it enough to keep from being violently sick on his own doorstep.

And tomorrow they’d be gone. He sighed into his hands.

“You okay Manny?”

Manny lifted his head to see McMurphy leaning against one of the posts that held up the balcony, cigarette between his fingers.

“Uh, yeah,” The alcohol made his tongue heavy in his mouth, “Yeah I’m… okay.”

“You sure?”

Manny pushed away from the door and made towards the post opposite McMurphy’s. He wrapped an arm around it and then remembered himself, straightening up to lean more casually and not like a total lightweight.

“I just needed some air,” he said.

McMurphy watched him out the corner of his eye, and even in the dark Manny could see the twitch of his lips smirking upwards. He brought the cigarette to his lips and sucked, the tip glowed ember.

“Me too,” McMurphy’s words came out in a curl of smoke.

They stood there in silence, nothing but stale smoke drifting between them. It had been a long time since Manny had talked with McMurphy. Going on ten years now. He remembered that leather jacket, before it was so beaten and soft, recognised old patches and paint under the new. McMurphy, like Jessup, was exactly as Manny had left him, but at the same time an entirely different man. Like a faded photo. Tired and worn but familiar.

“Do you remember when we climbed around in those old buildings, back in Vegas?” Manny asked.

“When we hopped rooftops when we got in trouble with your mom?” McMurphy chuckled, “Yeah, I remember.”

Manny snorted, “Oh man, after I ‘donated’ one of her old world plates as target practice. I thought she was gonna kill me!”

“So did we,” McMurphy flicked ash from his cigarette, still smiling, “Here I thought Khan moms were scary.”

Manny laughed again and fell into an easy, comfortable quiet. He glanced over at McMurphy, who was staring skywards. Manny followed his gaze to the millions upon billions of stars up above. It was what he missed the most after Mr House took Vegas back from the Khans. Maybe the Khans survived House’s onslaught of securitrons and bankrolled gangs, but the night sky did not. The stars never shone the same after he switched on the lights. Manny didn’t have the head for science to understand why, but even out here the sky was never quite the same.

“Can you still read the stars?” Manny asked absently.

“‘Course” McMurphy replied, Manny could still hear the smile on his lips, “Harder closer to Vegas but, I can still see what I need. Always know my way home.”

Home. That’s what he missed. A home he could never go back to, with a night sky he’d never see again. Home was what the Khans had. Wherever they pitched that night, that was home. And here he could feel it, their warmth and joy and love despite it all. Novac had none of that, not anymore, not since House, not since the NCR, not since Carla. Manny’s home was gone. Like his family, his friends, his night sky, all gone.

“You okay man?” McMurphy’s gentle voice drifted to him like smoke on the wind.

Manny’s eyes prickled and he could feel hot tears on his cheeks. Goddamn it. He scrubbed them away with the back of his hand. But he was already caught.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

The quiet from McMurphy stretched on and Manny’s cheeks burnt hot with shame. His head swam with alcohol and his heart ached. It hurt! A burning pain that tightened his throat and forced a sob from his mouth when he tried to laugh it off. The gravel crunched under McMurphy’s boots as he closed the gap between them and wrapped his strong arms around Manny without hesitation. And Manny cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he did. He cried and McMurphy held him close, rubbing circles into his back and shushing him gently.

McMurphy smelt of clean sweat, leather and cigarettes, with just an undertone of amber. He was taller than Manny, and his jacket was soft and worn. Manny wrapped his arms gingerly around his chest as he tried to get his breathing under control and not snivel all over the friend he hadn't seen in a decade.

“It’s just so-- shit,” Manny managed.

“Tell me about it,” McMurphy said.

“I keep screwing things up. I feel like I-- I threw away everything and for what? A shit job, no friends, my family hates me! I wake up every day and I think is-- is this it?! Is this all I have left? One shitty hotel room and twelve hours of standing around on my own?” Manny rambled, “Okay-- I had one friend here. One! But his wife hates me so he’s barely allowed to talk to me and now she’s taken off back to Vegas and he thinks I ran her out of town! Is this it?”

“C’mon man, you’re barely thirty. You’ll be fine,” McMurphy pulled back, his hands on Manny’s shoulders, forcing Manny to look at him, “I promise. You’ll be ok.”

“I just…” Manny sighed, “I feel like I’ve wasted all my chances. I fucked things up with Vegas, I tried to have my cake and eat it too with the Khans and-- you know what happened there. And then the only good thing I did in the army was… leave.”

“Yeah, and it takes guts to do that,” McMurphy said, “Look, Manny, you think anyone else in that room can say they’ve done all the things you have? Anyone in this town? You’ve been a son, a raider, a soldier, a citizen, a guard-- all before you got even one grey hair. Not even that beat-up old ranger can say that.”

“But--”

McMurphy prodded Manny square in the chest, just over his heart, “You got guts, and you got skills. Ain’t nothing else you need. You want friends? Well you got one right here--” McMurphy pointed a thumb at himself, “and I know Jesse’s always gonna have your back no matter what.”

Manny scrubbed his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater. This time, when he laughed, he didn’t stop by accident, “Hey. Good to know we’re still friends.”

“Sure we are.”

“Even after everything?”

“Even after everything.”

Manny woke with a strip of light in his eyes and a weight on his chest. It would be more pleasant if his head wasn’t throbbing. Manny scrunched his eyes up to block out as much of the morning sun as possible as he tried to think of the name of who he was in bed with. It wasn’t unusual, he’d taken men to bed before. Passers-by mostly, someone he wouldn’t have to look in the eye every time they bumped into each other in the gift store. He’d learnt his lesson there.

Then the night before started to creep into Manny’s memory. The Khans who came to stay.

“Shit,” Manny hissed to himself. He peaked down at the arm draped over his chest. McMurphy. Okay, McMurphy being in bed with him was a good sign. He had the integrity to refuse any drunken kissing from Manny, at least. Especially in a room full of other Khans. Manny squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to any god that would listen that he didn’t embarrass himself last night.

“Hey hey wakey wakey baby, about time too. I just sent your hair-challenged friend off with a line about you powdering your nose,” Benny called over, making little effort to keep his voice down, “But before you go, how abouts you wake up one of your pals so we can split before the heat sets in.”

Manny scrubbed the sleep from his eyes, only half understanding the words that had just spilt from Benny’s mouth, “You saw Boone?”

“Boon, is it? Not sure if he really looked like a boon I’d want. Unless what I wanted was a plank of wood.” Benny huffed smoke out the door, squinting into the rising sun, “What time did your shift start anyhoo?”

“Shit.”

Manny tossed away the covers and shot from the bed. McMurphy groaned beside him, covering his head with the arm Manny had abandoned. First Manny looked for his clothes, only to find that he had fallen asleep still wearing them. All save for his boots, which were neatly paired at the end of his bed. Manny plopped his ass on the bed and shoved his feet into his boots, pushing away the vague recollections of McMurphy prying the boots off him as Manny drunkenly insisted on sleeping with them on.

Great. The first time seeing his childhood friends in years and he’d gotten drunk and acted the fool. What else can go wrong today? What about angering Boone even more? Sounds just perfect.

Manny gave up on his laces, standing up and setting a ginger hand on McMurphy’s shoulder. McMurphy made another sound that could have meant anything from “What do you want?” to “Go away”.

“Hey man, listen. I gotta go but-- thanks for last night. I really mean it. I hope I see you again soon, okay?”

He hoovered for half a second as McMurphy shifted, rubbing grit from his eyes. Before the man could wake up fully, Manny leant down and pressed a kiss to his temple. Then he straightened and fled from the room, pushing past Benny to run towards the dinosaur.

“Manny?” McMurphy croaked.

Benny blew smoke out the door again, watching Manny half jog, half stumble in his unlaced boots, “He’s gone, pal.”

#fnv #fallout new vegas #manny vargas #benny gecko #jessup #mcmurphy #my writing #txt

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