new vegas companions +dlc companions react to the Courier giving them a hug (bc goddamn fo they need one)
caught up in his usual neurotic whirlwind, thinking of the thousand
things they need to get done, while trying very hard to make it
appear like his mind isn’t in fifteen different places at a time. As
good as he was at hiding his truly anxious, anal attentive self (like
he was just a disturbed reptile wearing the skin of a human, trying
to blend in) there was no hiding it from Six. Arms lock around him
from behind without warning and he nearly jumps out of his skin
(which would have revealed his true reptilian self). He cranes his
neck to look back at the smirking face peering over his shoulder.
“Why?” he asks flatly. “Cause,” they reply, equally even
toned, and their arms coil a little tighter around him. He isn’t sure
what to do with himself. He stands, locked in their embrace, but it
isn’t nearly as uncomfortable as he might have thought. It’s like
being cocooned in a heavy warmth. How long has it been since someone
was bold enough to hug him? If he really thought back, it was his
mother who last held him like this. He sighs, and every bit of
trepidation seeps out on his exhalation, leaving him to melt into the
warm body behind him. For awhile, he can just focus on the starch
making Six’s shirt stiff, the chest rising and falling against his
back, and the quietness of his own thoughts. He hopes to always be so
lucky as to have someone that can tame the whirlwind in his head.
Boone- Six levels
him with a soft gaze, but he instinctively sneers, thinking it must
have been fueled by some desire to patronize him. Poor Boone, the
widower, the man who deserved all the pity in the world for being the
pitiful creature he was. Six speaks and surprises him; “Are you
alright if I hug you?” He blinks behind his glasses, the scowl
softening into a look of surprise. “Why would you want to?” They
just smile at him. “Some folks need a hug now and then.” He
stares at them, and doesn’t reply. He doesn’t say yes, but then
again, he doesn’t say no. They shift closer and he still doesn’t say
anything, and he doesn’t say no. They wrap an arm around his frame,
but not quite. They hover, push their arm further across his
shoulders by small increments, moving by inches until their hand is
gingerly cupping his far shoulder. On the other, they rest their
head. Still, he tells them nothing, but after what feels like a long
moment of silence, he leans his head against theirs, and breathes
deeper than he has in a very long time. It finally feels like he is
allowed the luxury of a deep breath.
doesn’t have a chance to congratulate Six on the win at Hoover Dam
before she’s swept off her feet, crushed in a bear hug that steals
her breath and makes her scream something like laughter in her
surprise and elation. When she’s put back on her feet, Six
apologizes, but she’s having none of it. She throws her arms around
their shoulders and theirs snake around her waist, and it’s there
they stay as the world seems to crawl to a stop around them. Just for
them. She’s sure she’s hurting them as much as they’re hurting her in
the embrace (she vaguely remembers hearing her back crack not long
after she was swept up and Six seems to be wheezing just a tad) but
neither bring it up. A little pain is worth it, worth keeping this
going as long as either of them can keep it this way. By the end,
when she finally releases them, her arms are stiff- but her head is
clear, and her footsteps just a little lighter.
Lily- Leo is
especially loud. She doesn’t know why. There are some moments, he
urges her to do all these awful things she knows she doesn’t want to
do, and he’s so insistent, and he’s so loud, she feels she’ll be
swallowed up by the noise. Something is around her waist and she
looks down to see Six smiling up at her, tiny form (tiny compared to
her) doing everything it could to engulf the Nightkin twice their
size. The din of Leo’s voice rolling around like a loose marble in
her skull quiets, and she can almost think again. She doesn’t ask
what brought this on- she grabs Six, plucks them clean off the
ground, and hugs them as if her life depends on it. Some days, it
feels like it does. Six is the only tether Lily has left. She holds
them as tight as she can.
Raul- It had been
an exceptionally long life, the life Raul lived before he met Six. A
lonely one at that. He appreciated the company, as hectic and insane
as it was, and whether they were killing drug addled madmen or firing
a rocket of ghouls into the sunset, he was just glad to be by their
side. When they laugh at some old story of his and so casually hug
him against them, it takes him a little aback. It’s a gesture he
hasn’t received in so long. It was easy to forget the pleasures he
took for granted before the war, when tiny things like a hug or a
peck on the cheek just happened, and simply vanished from his life
without much thought once Rafaela was gone. He didn’t even consider,
as Six slung their arm around him, that it was over two hundred years
ago when last he held his little sister, and perhaps longer than that
since he was held himself. Without thinking, he slips his arm around
them in turn. It just feels right. There’s no sadness or overwhelming
memories of everything he had before the bombs fell, just an
appreciation that he found someone willing to risk secondhand
radiation just to let him feel human contact again.
Cass- She’s not
fond of hugs. They’re more intimate than intimacy, and unless it’s a
family member, only people that gave a shit about you hugged you.
Which made Six’s lingering embrace all the more panic inducing.
People didn’t care about Cass. Not like this, not in this way, and
instead of feeling safe and warm as she should, she feels overwhelmed
with an unreasonable sense of anxiousness hidden just under the
surface. Being cared for brought with it expectations, expectations
she would undoubtedly never meet, because she just never did. She
failed her caravan, her father in a way- drinking in some two-bit bar
was all she was really good for. She stiffens the longer it goes on,
holding her breath until they release her and give her an odd look.
She jams a finger in their chest. “Don’t. Don’t do that,” she
mutters and picks up her rifle from the ground. It didn’t matter if
she liked it, or if that small amount of contact meant more than the
nights she spent in tumbles of sheets with some stranger, she will
not play this stupid game of friendship or… or whatever the hell
this was between them. She would only end up losing, or fucking up
whatever they had. Fucking up and drinking, those were her strong
suits and she had every intention of pursuing them.
Rex- He excitedly
licks their face when their arms envelope his neck, eagerly rubbing
his muzzle under their chin. He climbs into their lap, without much
care that he’s too big to be a lap dog, and nearly tips them over
when he leans his full weight into them. It goes without saying that
Rex likes hugs, really, really likes hugs.
ED-E- As much as
he enjoys the contact, and chirps his appreciation, it makes him a
little sad he can’t return the favor. He curses his lack of arms.
Joshua- Most of
the tribals in the valley are afraid of touching him, whether out of
respect or out of concern for the burns, but Six is not a tribal, and
evidently, free of that fear. They’re still as gentle as possible,
yet even that is still enough to make him hiss and tense. Their grip
loosens until his rigid muscles relax, then, inch by inch, their arms
encircle him. He doesn’t know why they feel the need to do this,
doesn’t ask, and even he’s not sure why he doesn’t. Is he more touch
starved than he realized? Is it worth the pain, just to be held by
someone? He breathes in the moment, even when the feeling his chest
expanding against them sends knives gliding slowly down his torso
like a man being flayed. Yes, he thinks. It’s worth it.
Dean- He awkwardly
pats them on the head, not sure what else he’s expected to do.
“Yeah… Nice seeing you too, kiddo.” It’s been a long few days,
weeks- hell, if he was honest, it’s been a long life. He’s never been
more tired than he was in the Sierra Madre, and as much as he liked
to pretend he was just as spry as when he had skin back in the old
days, he’s tired. Maybe more than even he realized. When he’s got
this cooky Courier wrapped around him, he feels like suddenly,
they’re the only thing keeping him on his feet. The longer they hold
onto him, saying nothing so he has nothing else to focus on, the more
he feels the years press down on him. His hand slips from their head
to his side. He leans a little into them, releases a sigh that feels
like its been rattling in his chest for centuries. “…Thanks kid.”
was a lot to learn about the Sierra Madre, and she knew if anyone was
going to unearth whatever secrets Elijah had, it would have to be
her. But Six made her decision to stay no easier when they pulled her
into a warm embrace. She laughs somberly, a small sound that grates
her still raw throat, and hugs them back. Her fists clench around the
fabric of their shirt, and she wants so desperately to ask them to
stay. But she would never be that selfish, would never tie the
Courier down to a place like this. She nestles her nose into their
neck, she wants to commit their scent to memory. By now, their real
scent has washed away. Now, they smell like the Cloud. She focuses
instead on the way their arms form around her. Anything to remember
the person that has helped her so much. She gives them a tap on the
cheek when they finally pull away. They part ways with few words.
After everything they went through, neither of them need many to
convey what they feel. Even without being mute, Christine knew there
is more power in gestures than phrases as final as goodbye.
Six’s body pressed up against him soothes his stomach’s incessant
gnawing, even if it’s only for a few minutes. He rumbles deep in his
chest, appreciative of the contact, closer to a cat purr than a Dog.
It does nothing to quiet the other voice in its cage, if anything it
makes it worse, growling and annoyed and urging Dog to stop letting
Six treat him like a pet, but he snaps at it to shut up. He likes
this; not even the voice’s nagging and chewing inside his skull can
make him push Six away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He gapes at the audacity they
have to hug him without permission, but Six just smirks at him.
“C'mon, big guy,” they say in an annoyingly upbeat tone,
“Everyone needs a hug!” He easily engulfs their face (and most of their head) with one
hand and pushes them off, as easy as picking up a toy and putting it
back its proper place. “No.” They pout, looking like they were
debating trying again. Apparently they think better of it and mumble,
“Fine, I’ll hug Dog extra hard then next time he’s around. You’ll get one whether you like it or not.” They really perplex him with their insistence.
Fallout NV companions react to a kiss from the courier? (Can you add dlc companions like from dead money? )
(Hold onto your genitalia, I did ya one better anon and included EEEEEEVERYONE. HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY FROM THE MOJAVE)
Boone- The subtle peck on the cheek was the last thing he expects when they sit by Yangtze Memorial, watching the sun peak over the mountains. Unexpected, though secretly he’s been hoping for this moment for a few weeks now. He peers at Six over his sunglasses and the only thing he can think to do at first is blink dumbly at them. They flash him a grin more dazzling than the sunrise. He pushes forward and kisses them back fiercely, hoping the way his teeth clicks off theirs doesn’t hurt them. It’s been a long time since he did this after all. He’s too clumsy, too impatient, but Six doesn’t seem to mind. They’ve been waiting for this a lot longer than him.
Arcade- He rubs the spot on his forehead where Six’s lips had pressed softly against his skin. He doesn’t want to make a big deal about it. Their intentions were purely innocent, they simply showed their gratitude in intimate ways. It was a thank you for stitching up the bullet wound in their side. It’s perfectly platonic. Yep. Platonic. Perfectly platonic pining from a pretty- damn it, he was officially attracted to them, wasn’t he? He holds his palm against his head, over the spot where he still feels a lingering warmth. Though that may be the blush he feels creeping up to his ears. He only wishes he’d said something better than “Uh. Alright.”
Veronica- They present her with a dress, an honest to goodness dress with pink floral print and not a single bullet hole or scorched patch of cloth. She rips it from their grasp with a gasp so deep it almost pops her lungs. She thanks them ten times and hugs their waist tightly, almost picking them off the ground. Their mouth is against hers just as she’s setting them down. Her eyes go wide. They pull away quickly, apologetic, they turn away abashed. “Sorry. Enjoy the uh, the dress…” She’s too stunned to stop them from leaving the hotel room. She finds them again after she’s shed her ugly burlap sack and shows off with a twirl. When Six compliments her, she breaks in the middle of her spin, sweeps forward before they can object, and kisses them hard. Maybe a little too hard. Six doesn’t complain.
Raul- There’s no reason a person like Six would have any interest in an old man like him. He doesn’t think much of the way they treat him, how often they turn to him for advice, how they’ll sit and listen to his stories for as long as he’s willing to tell them. How they squeeze his arm and tell him he still has a use in the world. They kiss him just on the corner of his lips (not quite his cheek, not quite his mouth), and though the gesture fills him with a long lost sense of purpose, the resolve he has needed for years, he also feels a trickle of dread. The longevity of the people he cares for is never long. Six slings their pack over their shoulder and continues down the dangerous road they’ve walked together for months now, but while they seem at peace with him walking behind them, Raul is more cautious than ever. Six will not be another coffin on his conscience.
Cass- They share drinks after a close call with raiders leaves them both with too much adrenaline and not much else to do. Six can handle their liquor almost as well as her. Things quickly devolve into a war of attrition on both their livers to decide who passes out first. Eventually Six slurs something about how pretty they think Cass is and she snorts, almost choking on her drink. “Jesus, you’re one of those drunks.” She turns towards them just in time for their lips to brush against her ear, missing their target (she’s not entirely sure what the target was in the first place), and the movement is too much for their equilibrium to handle. Six’s head goes down onto the bar with a solid thwack. Cass pats them roughly on the temple and leaves them there to dry up in Prospector’s Saloon. She doesn’t bring up the failed attempt at a kiss; In the morning, she doesn’t remember it.
Lily- “Love you, Grandma.” Six has to stand on tiptoes just to reach Lily’s cheek and nearly misses, but Lily is there to catch them before they teeter off the balls of their toes. She picks them up and smothers them with kisses. For once, she sees Six, not the faces of the grandchildren she loved so dearly, and it is Six’s bright, bell laughter she hears. Leo’s voice rolls to the forefront of her mind and urges her to let her teeth slip into their carotid artery. Lily refrains.
ED-E- Arcade’s rejection often hurt the little eyebot’s feelings, but Six is always there to remind him he’s loved. They pull him down and kiss his grill after Arcade’s distant attitude towards him leaves the bot feeling low. He rolls giddily in the air with a series of gleaming beeps.
Rex- Six has been away for what seems like ages. When they appear again in Freeside, he bolts towards them, practically piledrives them into the dirt. They’re just as glad to see him, and kiss the side of his face, his neck, the top of his head. He licks their face in return, leaving them both slobbery messes in the middle of the road.
God/Dog- His belly aches, he tries not to make a sound. Hurt is good. Hurt keeps the other voice in its cage. But Six doesn’t like Dog to hurt, the hurt sounds worry Six and he doesn’t like the way they look when they worry. He just can’t help it, the hunger, the metal in his stomach burns, he lets out a soft whine. Six’s head turns to him in an instant. “Is it bothering you, Dog?” He nods. Six’s arm is too small to fit around his shoulders, but they try anyway, and lay their lips against one of his scars. “We’ll find you something to eat, big guy.” The pain ebbs just a little bit, and God is silent.
God/Dog- Six kisses his jawline, he fixes them with a scrutinous glare. “Thanks for looking out,” they say. It’s circumstance that keeps them together, and as long as his interests align with the courier’s survival, he’s promised to protect them. That fact was likely going to change later down the road, when they were no longer a key part of helping Dog and himself. And yet… something in the way they treat him, the blind trust. It’s naive. The familiarity should sicken him. Instead, it makes him quicker on the draw, and in moments of calm (Dog is quieter around them, he’s not entirely sure why) it makes him observe the set of their face. When they kiss him, he stares for a long moment before his eyes cut away. “You’re welcome.”
Christine- Only a moment ago, she was ready to do whatever it took to make sure Elijah didn’t make it out of the casino. Even if it meant that Six didn’t make it out either. Looking at them now, the way their brow furrows, their hand reaches out for her. She remembers the way it formed to hers and squeezed and wants so badly to take hold of it again. “Begin again, but know when to let go,” she whispers under her breath, and a contrite laugh leaves her. “Sounds like you.” She slips her hand into theirs, and her breath catches in her throat when she finds them suddenly pressed up against her. “I’ll find you after this,” they promise, so heart achingly earnest, and the kiss takes her breath away. She blinks away tears, she wishes this could last, but it won’t. She hopes there’s an ‘after this’ and leaves Six to deal with Elijah.
Dean- He can’t really remember the last time he’s felt that little spark of static electricity. He feels the tiny jolt as Six kisses his cheekbone, and almost reaches up to touch it in mild surprise. There’s a moment, the shortest beat, that he sees Vera’s eyes staring back at him from the courier’s face. “What was that for?” They tip their head towards him and reply, “Always thought you looked handsome in those posters. And now I can say I’ve gotten to first base with a celebrity.” Dean smiles despite himself and settles back against the wall they sat beside. Six leans a little into his shoulder. “…Would you mind if I sing? It would probably be a lot more impressive to your friends if they knew you got a private show from Dean Domino himself.” It does nothing to help clear out the horde of Ghost People on the streets below them, if anything it attracts more of the bastards to them, but Six lets him perform. It’s been even longer since he’s done that.
ED-E (Lonesome Road)- ED-E hovers above them as Six sits, head buried in their knees among the wreckage of the Divide. “EVERYONE IS GONE” glows in white spray paint on the wall above them. ED-E lists down towards them, whirring mournfully as he edges his way under one of their arms to squeeze himself into their arms. He wants to tell them they’re not alone, they haven’t been since they brought him online. They wipe at their cheeks with one hand and hold him with the other. “Heh… thank you, ED-E.” They kiss him near his antenna. “You’re my hero.” He’s never felt more like Ralphie.
Ulysses- He stares out at the dizzying emptiness of the Mojave, eyes unfocused, a thousand yards away wherever he looks. The campfire glows dully and casts shadows on their face when his eyes finally rivet on them. “It wasn’t beautiful before,” he assures them, “Not as ugly. But not beautiful by any stretch of the imagination.” This will be their last night in each others company. Soon they would return to New Vegas, to face the Second Battle of Hoover Dam. He never doubted their resourcefulness, yet didn’t diminish the threat they faced. It would be strange losing them. The one purpose he had. Six probably felt the magnitude of the battle they faced even more. Their fingers squeeze his. “I’ll miss you.” He turns to look at them straight on instead of out of his peripheral. They stare back at him, for awhile, neither do anything. Six reaches for his breathing mask, and he feels the tiniest hitch in his heart. He doesn’t stop them, even when they move it down just enough to plant a kiss against his lips. They return the mask to its place a moment later and they both return to silence. In time he breaks it. “I’ll miss you too.
Follows-Chalk- The lights of New Vegas were brighter and closer than any star in the sky, close enough he felt he could touch them. The colors of the Strip twinkled with more color than anything he’d seen in the canyon. Six is patient with him, answers every question he has, tells him he’s never a burden when he comes into their room in the middle of the night to ask why the lights never slept. They take him to a casino, where the tinkling sound of caps is like a swarm of noisy cicada. Something good happens at the table where they roll a ball around a black and red wheel, causing the surrounding people to cheer loudly. He’s lost in the excitement until Six grabs either side of his face and kisses him roughly. “You’re a god damn lucky rabbit’s foot!” He has no idea what that means. The next day he brings Six a dismembered rabbit’s foot and hopes beyond hope this pleases them enough to do it again. They wince upon seeing the bloody paw, but once he reveals his purpose for this, they kiss him anyway.
Walking Cloud- After applying a tourniquet to a nasty wound, Six leans forward and offers her a kiss on the jaw. She assumes it’s a common practice among those outside of the valley. In return she pets them on the head, oblivious to the soft look they give her when her back is turned.
Joshua- Six approaches him, their steps uneasy, uneven. Tonight is their last night in the Sorrows camp, and though the parting is tinged with sadness, the tribals revel, drink, and wish the courier safe travels. His farewell had been curt. Apparently this was not enough for them. Their focus darts from the stripped gun in his hands to his eyes, and there’s something in them he can’t quite pin. He shows some surprise they aren’t letting the Sorrows shower them with well deserved celebration. They push their fingers under his, breaking his contact with the metal of the pistol. “I wanted to give a proper goodbye.” He only feels the vaguest ghost of heat against the dead nerves in his fingertips as Six brings his hand to their face. They kiss the only bare slip of skin they can find under the bandages. Joshua can’t find the will to stop them, much as he despises the temptation they pose. He finds his fingers smoothing out against them, his thumb following the contours of their face. He almost believes his own words when he says this goodbye won’t last forever.