Chapter Text
Their group had been split into three strike teams with a squad of Minutemen and Railroad operatives. They moved out across the Commonwealth to route out any remaining Gunner camps and stayed in touch over the radios that linked to the beacons in the settlements scattered across their homeland.
It took two weeks of hard grueling work. Trekking and fighting, fighting and trekking, with a scant few hours of rest in between missions. It reminded Hancock of how they'd used to work when Emmett was pushing hard to find his son. Eventually, only a few small groups of Gunners remained and the rest were scattered to the edges of the ‘Wealth. For now. They were a tenacious bunch.
He was exhausted. Right down to his bones and that spot where his neck and his shoulders met ached something fierce. He’d pulled it days ago but they hadn’t stopped long enough for it to heal properly or rest.
He sat by the fire in Graygarden along with some Minutemen and Railroad Operatives and got ready for a long night of just waiting to go home. His abyssal eyes watched RJ and Emmett move about the settlement together, checking in on things here and there, before they moved to the staircase that would lead them up to the overpass that ran over Graygarden.
They paused at the bottom step and turned to look out again at the people milling about, settling down to eat, drinking, or getting ready to sleep. He saw Em mumble something to Mac who nodded and then his eagle eyes landed on him. The blue looked striking in the fire light. He jerked his chin and then green eyes were on him too.
They smiled and bobbed their heads in a come on motion and he couldn’t not follow. They were the best thing he had.
He joined them at the foot of the stairs and, together, they made their slow meandering way up. It was a steep climb but they'd done it before and they'd most likely do it again. The fires and chatter below them got quieter, the evening sky above them got closer.
They alighted onto the overpass, the two-hundred year old concrete crunching beneath their boots, and Hancock followed RJ and Emmett to the trailer they'd set up ages and ages ago.
It was a smallish place inside, barely big enough for the three of them to sit comfortably together with a warm stove and lanterns. They went through their usual motions of setting up for the evening and, soon enough, they were sitting in the old booth style seating with a pack of cards and music playing through the PipBoy.
Mac sat opposite him and Em and dealt out hands for poker and they filled the space with gentle chatter about nothing in particular.
As Hancock turned his head to look at Emmett who had begun to spin a tale about the time he'd seen a Deathclaw attempt to climb a tree, he winced and had to palm the back of his neck to ease the ache.
“Hey,” Mac nudged his knee beneath the table, “you okay? You've been doing that for days.”
“What?”
“Your neck, John. Is it okay?”
Hancock prodded his neck with his fingers and winced again, “Nothin’ a bit of time won't fix, Sunshine.”
Emmett huffed and shuffled out of the booth to grab his bag. He rifled through and started pulling out random bits of scrap and loot: copper wire, tape, metal, guns, clothes. Hancock wasn't sure how he got it all to fit inside but it was a mystery that had never been solved in all the time he knew him. He saw Emmett do a little victory grin before he came back to the seat. He placed a small bottle of oil on the table between them.
“Turn around and take your shirt off, I'll get that twinge out in no time.”
“It's fine, really -”
“Come now, darlin’, let me help you.”
Hancock looked helplessly at Mac who had a small grin on his face, “It's only us here, love.”
Love. Darlin’.
Hancock slowly spun in his seat and was helped out of his shirt. He held back the gasp of sharp pain as his arms pulled the muscles in his neck and shoulders, and stared resolutely out of the small cracked window in the side of the trailer. Night had fully fallen and he could just see stars peeking out through the light cloud cover.
Then, quite suddenly, warm slick hands were on his shoulders and he jumped.
“Shh, I got you. Tell me if it hurts too bad.”
He glanced at Mac who had turned his attention back to his cards and was dealing himself a game of solitaire. The music was still playing out the PipBoy and the lantern light was warm and soothing.
The hands on his shoulders began to gently move and glide over his scars and dips and warping. He stayed very still until the pressure increased and the muscle beneath his skin strained in protest and he tensed.
“Try and relax, darlin’, it's just me.” Hancock nodded and forced his body to still, head falling forward to stare at his own hands as they sat uselessly in his lap, “There we go.”
He couldn't remember being touched like this before. Soft and warm and without expectation. He felt a muscle give way to the gentle ministrations of Emmett and sighed at the relief. He felt tingles erupt over his skin and allowed himself to relax further as another muscle started to ease. He was vaguely aware of Emmett and RJ talking, semi aware of the music, not fully focused on the trailer around them. His eyes shut as those hands continued to move over his neck before they carefully moved down to just below his shoulder blades. He dozed and his body began to fall back into the touch.
He became more aware a short time later and tensed up all over again. Mac and Emmett were still playing cards and talking quietly. One of Em’s arm was loosely draped over his chest where fingers lightly stroked the space between his pecs as Hancock leaned fully against his side.
Em felt the tension reply and made a quiet shh noise before saying, “It's alright, you can stay there. You seem comfortable.”
He felt a nudge to his leg beneath the table from Mac's foot, “Wanna be dealt in?” He gestured at the cards.
The arm stopped him sitting up, just a light pressure to keep him settled against Emmett's side, “Uh, sure.”
“Neck feel better?” Was mumbled into the top of his head, stubble and soft lips.
“Yeah…thanks.”
“Anytime, darlin’.”
They passed beers around, sharing from the same bottle, and smoked cigarettes as chatter filled the space again. Emmett kept Hancock pulled to his side and played footsie beneath the table with Mac.
After some time, yawns were being thrown about in a contagious bout of tiredness and they all non-verbally agreed to settle for sleep.
Hancock groaned and got ready to collapse onto his bedroll whilst Em and Mac would take the bed like they always did when they stayed here.
“No no no, love.” Mac grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, “No bedroll tonight with your sore neck.”
He was gently pushed onto the mattress and, before he could protest that he was fine, Emmett and MacCready were laying down on either side of him. He huffed as a heavy arm lay over his stomach and a curly brown head pressed against his shoulder. Trapped between them in a little bubble warmth with soft lantern light and blankets, he couldn't breathe. He tensed and the heavy arm moved so a hand could gently rub a soothing line in his side, “Shh, darlin’, just sleep.”
Hancock tried. He really did. He shut his eyes and let himself relax the tense muscles but every time either Emmett or RJ moved he felt himself holding his breath. It was impossible. Torturous. Too warm and heavy. He couldn't breathe. The sheets were scratching.
Emmett sat up suddenly and dragged the shirt he was wearing up and off his head. He lay back down and gently pulled Hancock into his bare chest so his forehead could rest on the big man's shoulder and rubbed a fist into his chest, “Hush, John. Nothing's gonna happen. It's just us and the night.” Another hand, RJ's, lay gently between his shoulder blades with careful fingernails softly scratching at the scars there, “There we go. Hush, love.”
When his eyes shut this time, they stayed shut and he slept.
***
He awoke to the deep rumbling breaths of Emmett in his ear and the soft tracing patterns of MacCready's fingers on his side. He shifted carefully to not wake Emmett up and rolled to face Mac who was watching him with sleepy eyes and sleep tousled hair.
“Mornin’” his fingers continued their lazy tracing over the dips and whirls of his scarred skin and Hancock didn't have the energy to flinch away.
“Hey, Sunshine.”
“Feel okay?”
“I'm - yeah, I feel okay.” Waking up in the warm cocoon of them again was a balm to his tumbling mind.
“Good,” he shuffled a little closer, so close that Hancock could feel his breath on his cheeks, “can I kiss you again?”
“...yeah..?” because how could he say no?
Mac smiled and slowly brought their mouths together. It wasn't like last time. It wasn't feverish and hot with the smell of blood and gunpowder around them and the threat of almost death. It was slow and tentative with the intent of drawing out Hancock’s soul. It was almost chaste until MacCready made a small sound at the back of his throat and the kiss deepened with those gentle tracing fingers shifting to hold on tightly to his hip. Hancock felt Mac's tongue carefully lick at his mouth and he opened to allow him inside and felt his nerves light up in response. He shuddered through the feeling of the tongue in his mouth as the lightning under his skin gathered in his back and belly.
Mac shifted so that their chests were pressed together and groaned as the movement forced Hancock's head back into Emmett's chest. The contrast of having his mouth plundered and the soft warm weight behind him was glorious. He felt Emmett move as his big arms came over and cupped the back of Mac's head and pulled the three of them impossibly closer together.
His still sleep heavy voice filled his head, “Best way to wake up but I'm feeling a little left out.”
Hancock felt Mac smile against his mouth and then he murmured, “Feel free to get involved, love.”
Em moved his hand off the back of Mac's head and the merc broke the kiss to look at Hancock's kiss bruised mouth. Hancock shivered again as the hand on his hip moved to soothe up his side, “How far do you wanna go, John?”
Emmett was shuffling behind him, opening pockets in his pack and pants as he looked for something, and Hancock heard him hold his breath as they waited for his answer. MacCready was patiently looking at him with his hand still smoothing down his side and over his hip. How far did he want to go? They were giving him an out and he suddenly found that he didn't want an out. He wanted to be in. He wanted to be in this bed and in their heads as much as they were in his. No more running. No more torture. He wanted to throw himself at them and take whatever it was that they gave him.
“I wanna go for all of it.”
Lips crashed into his once more in a searing fire like blaze and the mattress dipped as Em came back to his back and pressed against him. Big hands replaced MacCready's where they'd been running up his sides and gently rolled him so that he was suddenly facing the ceiling with them both hovering over him. Emmett’s mouth replaced Mac's and Hancock thought he would burst. He couldn't keep his eyes open to sear this image into his brain forever. Soft hands were brushing over his chest and belly and more hands were tracing the muscles in his thighs beneath the fabric of his pants.
“Fuck…” the kiss stopped and he couldn't help the small noise of protest escaping him. He peeked an eye open and his mouth went dry. Mac was kneeling on the bed as bare as the day he was born with one of Emmett's hands brushing up his thigh. Emmett was touching him almost reverently and Hancock could see his pale skin erupt into goosebumps where his fingers trailed. If Hancock believed in soulmates, he'd be sure that Emmett and MacCready were each other's.
“Em…” Mac whispered as he leaned into the touch.
“I know, sweetheart.”
Emmett pushed his own pants away from him and knelt to take Mac's jaw in his hands and Hancock could only watch as they kissed naked above him. One of Emmett's hands dropped to Hancock’s thigh, fingers digging in and stroking over the rough fabric of his pants before they found the dip where his leg met his groin. It made Hancock shudder as Emmett whispered out a quiet fuck into MacCready's mouth.
Then, Emmett was hovering over him, elbows braced on either side of his head, and he brought their mouths together again. Hancock felt his hips roll against him and didn't know what to do with his hands. Emmett moved his mouth over his jaw and whispered in his ear, deep and low and dangerous, “You can touch me, John.”
His hands moved of their own accord, tracing over the dip of Emmett's spine and down the slope to his smooth lower back. Emmett gasped against his neck and Hancock looked over his shoulder. Mac was kneeling behind Em, his mouth sucking and nipping at his hips and leaving little warm spots for Hancock's fingers to find.
He felt a hand slip between him and Emmett and found the button of his pants. He lifted his hips to help the last of his clothing be pushed and pulled away and then greedy fingers traced over the scars and whirls of the inside of his thighs.
He felt his knee be pulled up and a warm mouth kissed the inside of it and he shuddered. The whole time, Em continued to kiss and lick at his neck and shoulders and the top of his chest.
It was overwhelming and overstimulating. He could feel the deadened nerves beneath his skin lighting up and sending sparks all over. He gasped when that gentle mouth turned into a tongue that left a wet hot streak up the inside of his thigh.
“ Fuck, shit! ”
Emmett paused, “Need us to stop, darlin’?”
Hancock could not think of anything worse than them stopping right now and growled out, “Don't you fucking dare.”
A rumble of a laugh and then hands and mouths were roaming over him again.
He heard the quiet pop of oil being opened and then felt Emmett shudder above him. He peaked over the big man's shoulder and watched, enraptured, as Mac's slick covered fingers dipped into the cleft of Emmett's arse and push inside. The sound that escaped the General was sin and Hancock's hips rolled upwards of their own volition. A big hand came between them and Hancock choked back the cry tearing it's way out of his throat as Em wrapped his fist around both their dicks and started to pull and stroke in time to Mac's fingers inside him.
He felt like he was floating pressed beneath them both. The sounds and the touch and the smell of them filled his head and part of him couldn’t believe this was real. How could this be happening to him? How many times had he fantasised and wished and prayed and hoped?
The feel of the hand wrapped around his prick was like molten heat that spread over every inch of him. The sight of Mac, head thrown back and mouth open as he played with himself whilst his fingers worked Em open was nothing short of angelic. Emmett’s gasping and sighing playing over his neck as he panted and groaned was like the music of harps.
Which God had allowed this?
He felt his toes curl as that molten heat pooled in his belly like a wildfire and his hands started to claw at Emmett’s shoulder as a whining moan escaped the back of his throat. All of a sudden, Emmett removed his hand and used it to balance by Hancock’s head with a groan so loud and full of wanton need that Hancock nearly came into the air between them. He watched Mac push his dick into Em and the General’s mouth began to leave searing trails over Hancock’s neck and shoulders as he shuddered through the invasion of his partner. MacCready was chewing his bottom lip with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, “Fuck, Emmett…”
Emmett let out a breathy laugh against Hancock’s neck before leaving more kisses and gentle licks from his tongue. Hancock wanted to explode. The lingering edge of his almost orgasm receded back into a low ember and Emmett’s hands began to move again. He brought their mouths together and Hancock wanted to melt into the sheets below them as Em let out a filthy moan into his mouth as Mac started to fuck slowly in and out of him.
Emmett moved a hand down Hancock’s side and gripped his hip and pressed their erections together with MacCready’s next thrust into him and Hancock bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out loud at the brief feel of friction. He heard the pop of the oil again and saw Mac apply some to Emmett’s hand. The wetness pooled in the little divots his fingers were leaving over Hancock’s hipbone and the sensation made him shiver as those fingers began to glide smoothly over the crease of his hip and thigh. They trailed down, past his dick and balls, and over the sensitive skin just beneath them.
His breath hitched as a finger tentatively began to rub at his entrance and he heard Em mumble, “Okay?” He nodded against his sandy hair and the finger carefully pushed in. In perfect sync, all three of them moaned out variations of fuck, shit, and God. He moved it slowly in and out before picking up speed as Mac stilled and watched Hancock’s face. He met his eyes and Mac fucking winked at him with a cheeky smile that lit up his own face. Another finger slipped inside and Hancock’s hips moved down of their own accord to meet the thrust of the digits. His nails began to bite into Emmett’s skin and one of MacCready’s hands moved to bend Hancock’s leg up so he could stroke his thigh as began to move in his lover again. Emmett scissored and twisted his fingers to work him open and Hancock dragged his nails down Emmett’s spine in an attempt to ground himself.
Then, those fingers were pulled out of him and Emmett paused for a second as he moaned through another one of Mac’s sniper precise roll of hips. He whispered into Hancock’s ear, “Ready, darlin’?” Hancock could only nod again as Em kissed at his throat. The bigger man lined his dick up and Hancock held his breath at the feel of its head at his arsehole and then his whole body shook as it was slowly pushed inside.
He felt so full. So stretched and wide open for the two above him. Blue and green eyes were watching him unravel as the dick split him open and Hancock was waiting for the burning and stinging pain that had usually came when this happened to him. It never did. It was just warmth and fullness and soft slow rolling motions of skin on skin and gentle sighs and groans.
“Fuck, John…” Emmett buried himself to the hilt and paused as much as he was able with Mac still slowly moving in and out of him, “You’re so fucking tight. So fuckin’ perfect. All of you.”
Mac was gently holding his thigh as his other hand was on Emmett’s hip and he rolled down harder so that Emmett was forced to thrust into Hancock. He must’ve liked what he saw because a quiet oh, God escaped him with a moan that sounded almost primal, “Loves…I need to…”
Hancock rolled his hips up and let his mouth explore whatever bit of skin he could reach. He wasn’t sure where one of them started and the other one ended and vice versa. The three of them a tangle of limbs and connected in ways he’d only ever imagined before. He gasped as Em’s dick ran over that good spot inside and he managed to rasp out, “Need to what, Sunshine?”
“Jesus, your voice , John…” Mac’s head was thrown back again as his fingers played with Emmett’s lower back, pinching and scratching at his flesh and muscle, “I need to fuck. Need it harder…more…”
Emmett shivered at the confession and drove his hips in Hancock’s a bit more forcefully making the ghoul clench tighter with a cry, “Go for it, sweetheart.”
MacCready drove into Emmett with such force the man almost fell completely onto Hancock. He braced himself on his elbows and crashed their mouths together as Mac set the pace for all three of them. The younger man forced his dick harder and harder into the General which forced the General into the Mayor with equal vigor. It felt almost choreographed. As though the three of them had been doing this together for years.
Neither could speak as air was pushed from their lungs to be replaced by gasping pants. The sweat mixed as their tangle began to fold in on each other as they braced for the edge of the combined pleasure that MacCready was forcing out of them.
It felt like it happened simultaneously too fast and too slow. One moment, Hancock was riding the high and disbelief of what was happening just for it to crash over him like a tsunami and he was suddenly crying out as his thighs braced against Emmett’s hips and he came over their stomachs and chests. He felt Emmett shudder through his own orgasm and felt the warmth of his cum fill him up. Then, MacCready was collapsing by his side, bringing his mouth to Hancock’s shoulder, and pulling in great ragged breaths as he came down from his own high. Emmett fell to his other side and pulled Hancock’s head onto his chest.
Hancock fought to bring his own breathing under control as he listened to Emmett’s heartbeat quieten and enjoyed the gentle kisses to his shoulder and the top of his arm from Mac.
“How was that, darlin’?” Emmett rumbled, the vibration rolling over him from where his ear still lay over his heart.
Hancock nodded and mumbled back, “It was good. I’m good.”
Mac laughed as he lit a smoke, “Good.”
***
When they returned home to the Red Rocket, the three of them worked to move Hancock’s things into Emmett and RJ’s room. Their room. His bed was brought in and pushed beside theirs, a large sheet tucked around all three mattresses to keep them snug together. His clothes were put into a drawer, boots placed beside Emmet’s and Mac’s. His hat was given a little hook to hang from, and his coat was given its own space in the closet. Everything was tripled; cups, pillows, chairs, knick-kncaks, and comforts.
It was the three of them. The best team in the Commonwealth. Raiders cowered before them and the people wanted to
be
them. Everything was as it should be.
He’d lie in bed with his best friends. His partners. His lovers. Mac would be his little spoon with Emmett wrapping his strong arms around the both of them. Everything was in its place. All as it
should
be.
Emmett and RJ and Hancock.
Love and Sweetheart and Darlin’.
He was just fine.
fin.