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In this world nothing can be said to be certain except death and taxes.
When you’d run across that expression as a child, in one of the many books you plucked from the Vault library, it puzzled you. You knew what taxes were, of course. As a young girl and part of the future of Vault 33 you received a well-rounded education like every other member of your community and were familiar with the importance of taxation in pre-war society and the formation of what was once the United States of America.
You also knew death. You knew that, one day, when you reached your life’s end in the Vault, your civic duty having been fulfilled, you would be composted to ensure the nourishment of generations to come with your final contribution to the Vault’s well-being.
But, in spite of those “certainties” you never truly understood the expression until you encountered your own. And, in your world, nothing could be said to be certain except Norman MacLean.
When you were born, Norm showed up just minutes after. Your mothers were thrilled to have children so close together and couldn’t help but whip up hypotheticals where the two newest members of 33 married one another and secured the Vault’s future with their children, who might very well be the generation to retake the surface. It didn’t take others long to start saying it too and your whole lives, while you never talked about it with each other, it hung over you both like, well, death and taxes.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like Norm. Much to your chagrin, it was quite the opposite. No matter how unenthusiastic Norm was, especially compared to Lucy’s sometimes overbearing optimism, you couldn’t escape him.
You’d been born as built-in best friends. When you liked something Norm liked something. When you picked up a new hobby, Norm picked up the same hobby. When your mothers died in the famine you faced your grief together. When you wanted to learn more about life beyond the Vault and showed an interest in his father’s work, Norm quickly began spending his time in the lab as well. And that’s where you spent most of your time together ever since you’d been appointed Overseer Hank’s research assistant. Norm would help you type up lab reports and notes, filing them away into the Vault’s archives, and you’d steal glances at the boy that was meant to be your future husband but had never so much as held your hand.
All that considered, it was a commonly accepted fact in Vault 33 that wherever you were, Norm couldn’t be far behind.
That’s how you knew Betty was suspicious of you before Lucy left the Vault, when she saw you alone seemingly providing a diversion so Lucy, Norm, and Chet could sneak to the Vault door and unlease Lucy upon the surface to bring her father home. And that’s why Betty eyed you curiously now as you mentally willed Chet and Norm to hurry up and get back from Vault 32 before she cornered you. Even as a child you never lasted long under Betty’s stare before cracking and you’d always made up stories with Norm about how she was a trained hypnotist sent from Vault 31 to keep the rebellious youth of Vault 33 in check—if asking too many questions about the surface and speaking up in class could be considered rebellion.
After the raiders attacked following Lucy’s wedding you’d shuddered to think what was inside 32. And when you’d peeked inside before with Norm that place gave you the willies. You understood why Norm needed to go back—in the same way something called to you from outside the Vault, something different called to Norm from 32—but you’d rather fight the raiders again than go in that scorched shell full of broken bodies and death. You snapped yourself out of your thoughts before they could spiral even more, surprised to see Betty cut across the crowd instead of making her way towards you to interrogate you about Norm’s whereabouts. That’s when you saw Norm, smeared with soot and dirt and flanked by a sheepish Chet who looked like he’d just soiled his suit.
You heard them mumble something about planting potatoes which seemed to satisfy Betty, much to your surprise, but your heart was beating out of your chest as Norm brushed past you and grabbed your arm. You saw Betty shoot you both a look before laughing with the other counsel members, presumably saying something about the two lovebirds needing some alone time. You shrugged it off as you let Norm lead you out of Betty’s watchful gaze.
“What were you thinking Norm?! What did you find?”
“Not here.” He said through gritted teeth, pulling you deeper into the Vault until you found yourselves in front of the unit that you’d lived in alone since reaching marrying age. Your father had pulled some strings with Overseer Hank since it was basically guaranteed you’d marry Norm and this gave you a chance to settle into your home before he joined you. Except you and Norm had never even been alone inside your future home together, a thought that hit you square between the eyes as soon as you stepped inside and Norm began closing the curtains flitting around like a trapped sparrow. You’d read once that many cultures believed birds trapped indoors were a bad omen—you couldn’t help but wonder what it meant now as Norm finally settled down and came to rest in the kitchen. Norm fidgeted nervously as awkward silence filled the room, giving you that serious look you’d swear was plastered on his face permanently if you didn’t know him any better, if you hadn’t been on the receiving end of many a shy smile and wistful look.
You could tell he needed some time to process whatever it was that he’d found in Vault 32 and there was one place that always helped you get your thoughts in order—whether those thoughts were mostly about Norm was neither here nor there. You cleared your throat before speaking, “Before we talk, would you like to get cleaned up? I always think better after a shower.” Norm, who’d taken up pacing, stopped in his tracks and looked at you with wide eyes. For a split second you realized that now he was probably now thinking about you in the shower. That wasn’t something you minded all that much but heat still crept to your cheeks at the thought.
“Yes!” He said a little too eagerly before clearing his throat and letting out a much calmer, “If that…if that’s okay.” His words trailed off and you just smiled at him before leading him to the bathroom and making sure he had everything he needed even though you knew as well as he did that every unit contained identical bathrooms and toiletries.
You left him to it just as quickly as you’d ushered him into the bathroom. Now, you found yourself picking up Norm’s fidgeting where he’d left off. As you paced in the kitchen, tracing the same path Norm had begun to wear into the linoleum, you couldn’t tell if the moments passed far too quickly or much too slowly. Before you knew it you heard the shower shut off and when Norm emerged in a cloud of steam you flew past him as quickly as you could without looking at him, tossing a haphzard “I won’t be long!” over your shoulder. Once safely inside, you took possibly the fastest shower of your entire life before drying off, giving yourself a once-over, and slipping into your night gown.
When you left the bathroom you found Norm sitting on the sofa bouncing his leg. If it wasn’t for his jiggling leg, he looked at home — wearing pajama pants and a robe you recognized from inside the bathroom cupboard. It was part of a matching set: a wedding present for a wedding that hadn’t happened yet. You’d tucked it away and knew you’d find your own matching one if you dug deep enough past the towels.
Norm’s robe fit him well, the faded “His” embroidered in baby blue script on the breast pocket made you remember what you thought when you’d put yours in the cupboard: “one day, we’ll match.” You blushed and tried to push away your crush on your closest companion since birth, before quietly clearing your throat, signaling your return to the living room.
You giggled to yourself when Norm shot up quickly as if greeting the kings and queens of your favorite old storybooks.
“Um,” your voice faltered as you tried to find your words. Realizing you were both still standing, now quite awkwardly you quickly ushered him to sit, making yourself comfortable on the opposite end of the couch from him before asking him to tell his story.
And he told you.
He told you about the bodies in varying degrees of desperation and decay, forks shoved in toasters, old blood painting the walls. The pain and horror in his voice chilled your blood at the same time it hurt your heart. You wanted to hold him, rub his back in the same soothing circles your mother made along your spine when you’d had nightmares as a child.
You reached out and gently grazed his hand with your own as his story came to an end. “Well,” you said after a moment of quiet, your hand lingering on Norm’s, his breath hitching at the contact, “There’s nothing we can do about it tonight.”
Norm gave you a puzzled look especially when you got up and retrieved something from the Rad King Fridge that was humming away in the kitchen.
“I think we could use this right now.”
You held out a bottle of 200 year old champagne that had also been gifted to the (non) newlyweds to celebrate their nuptials.
“It’s for our wedding night, you said with a smirk,” letting out a giggle at the way pink dusted across Norm’s cheeks at the implication.
“Like I said,” you uncorked the bottle with a loud pop before filling up two champagne flutes etched with lacy, intertwined hearts, “Tonight, I think we could use a way out of this Vault, just this once.”
Norm nodded his head in agreement, “I’ll drink to that.” A small smile danced across his lips and you felt your stomach flutter at his reaction.
You held up your flute to Norm’s in a toast and he met yours without hesitation, the two of you downing the bubbles in an act of bravery or stupidity — they felt the same to you in that moment.
⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹
It didn’t take long for you to run through the bottle, its infectious buzz leaving both you and Norm craving something in its wake. You just didn’t know what that thing was. You’d both snuck sips of hard cider and home-brewed beer at the harvest festivals held throughout the year but the practically ancient champagne was stronger than anything you’d ever had and the bubbles went right to your head.
Somehow you’d ended up in your bedroom sprawled on your rug. The reality that this was meant to be your bedroom in the true sense of the word, as in you and Norm, hung in the air. You could tell he felt it too by the way he kept glancing at you between sips as he listened to you ramble on about everything from the time you’d gotten in trouble for stealing extra helpings of jello cake to when you’d walked in on Chet and Lucy rutting into one another like their lives depended on it. Both of your faces grew red when you realized what you’d just said and you quickly shut your mouth, too embarrassed to look at him.
After awhile, you settled into a comfortable silence and you sighed when he laid down next to you, joining you as you stretched out on your back and gazed up at the small lights strung across the riveted steel of your ceiling. Norm had rigged them up for you, saving old copper wires and diodes to create a night sky for you when you’d become hyperfixated on the astronomers of old when you were 14. They were the first thing you’d gotten sorted in your new unit when you moved in. The realization smacked you in the face and you jumped suddenly when Norm’s voice broke your thoughts.
“How come we…uhh, we never…”
“Hmm?” you asked hazily, snapping your attention away from your mind’s unwelcome diversion. You let the buzz of the champagne fill you and you felt bubbles of budding excitement at this turn of events fizzing in your stomach. It was almost laughable how quickly you forgot your own panic at the possibility of whatever would happen next.
“I was wondering…” Norm took a deep breath before continuing. “I was wondering why we never tried cousin stuff.”
“Well, we’re not cousins.” You grinned at him and you could see his brow furrow in a scowl.
“C’mon.” His voice cracked with faux frustration. “You know what I mean. I mean…everyone thinks…” his voice trailed off into a place you couldn’t follow.
“Norm, you’re with me practically every hour of the day, of course people think we’re going steady.” Your cheeks felt hot and you silently cursed yourself for saying that out loud but you couldn’t stop—you’d never seen a train wreck in real life anywhere except the old Cooper Howard cowboy stories they’d play on movie night, but you knew this was one in the making.
“Besides you know I’ve never um, I’ve never had intercourse with anyone.” You winced at the formality of it all but god forbid you called it—you even paused inside your own head, afraid of being reprimanded for swearing—fucking. Or worse: making love.
“Yeah. Me,” he cleared his throat, “uh, me neither.”
Norm had to know you already knew that he was a virgin. There had been too many loaded glances and cleared throats between you two when you’d accidentally overhear Chet and Lucy moaning from inside any number of broom closets. Plus, of course like you told Norm, you were always together. Except, it seemed, in the way that counted.
Norm nudged you with his foot, sitting up onto his elbows from where he lay next to you in the floor. You looked up at him, desperate to break the tension, and found yourself acutely aware of the way his eyes kept flitting down to your lips.
“No girl cousins?”
He let out a laugh that honestly sounded more like a pained yelp and you both paused a moment before locking eyes and bursting into laughter.
“So dumb.” You both said at the same time, now laughing harder at your synchronicity.
“Norm?” You said between inhales as you tried to catch your breath, sobering up immediately when you saw the way
“Yes?”
You saw his Adams Apple bob in his throat as he gulped nervously. His eyes kept darting between your eyes and your lips as if afraid to stay focused on one spot for too long.
Sitting up slowly, you scooted closer to Norm and he scrambled to get up to sit face to face with you. Once upright, you took his hand and brought it to your chest.
Norm looked like he was going to faint.
“do you feel that?” You asked quietly.
Norm’s reply was even quieter, almost a whisper.
“it’s your heart.”
You spoke again, louder this time, riding the false bravado the quickly fading champagne had given you, praying it lasted long enough to get you through this.
“It always beats like this when I’m around you. That’s we never…that’s why we never went into any broom closets. I was afraid you’d know.”
“Know what?”
Norm’s eyes were blown as he scooted closer to you, inching his way closer to where you still held his hand tight against your chest. Your face was on fire—everything was on fire.
“Please don’t make me say it Norm. You’ve gotta know. I mean we were practically born for it.”
“My heart does the same thing.”
Raiders could have been attacking the Vault again and you wouldn’t have noticed. You stared at Norm, mouth agape like a cartoon guppy fish and before you could connect your brain to your tongue he closed the final few inches between you.
His lips crashed into yours and you let out a surprised moan at the fiery contact, all teeth and force and inexperience. But, just as quickly as he surged forward he pulled away, leaving you wide-eyed as you heard him mumble something about being sorry.
You didn’t give him a chance to finish.
Using Norm’s hand that you somehow still had ahold of for leverage you pushed him backwards onto the floor and quickly scrambled on top of him, pulling him up to you by the collar of his robe and into a searing kiss.
Norm let out a sinful moan and you couldn’t help but grind your hips into him, seeking the inevitable connection you’d both been dancing around for your entire lives. You let out a gasp as he bucked his hips into your core and, just as you slipped your tongue past his lips, you felt something hard nudge against that “special” spot Lucy had told you about—the correct name you’d learned in your mandatory sexual education courses was too embarrassing to even think of in this moment.
This moment where Norm rolled his hips into you again. This moment where he dug into you again with the rapidly hardening bulge under his robe.
Unable to stop yourself, you stuttered out a breathy, “oh godddd.” At that you felt Norm shudder beneath you with a quiet exhalation, and you felt him tense up in the quiet seconds that followed. Your heavy breathing the only sound you could focus on.
“I’m sorry. I think I…uh…I.” Norm stuttered as he looked up at you with panic and embarrassment written all over his face. You knew what had just happened. Lucy had told you before about how excited Chet would get whenever she’d sit on his lap and rut into him—so excited, he’d ejaculate prematurely. She was the expert after all, but you had the sneaking suspicion that she would never want to hear about her own brother ejaculating too early while you straddled him like horse.
You gently shushed him and ran your fingers through his hair, looking down at him tenderly. Your heart felt like it could burst and you needed to make Norm feel it too.
Without a second thought you brought your lips to his neck, planting soft kisses along his throat and jaw. You felt his body relax beneath you and you were pleasantly surprised when you felt his hands wrap around your hips, pulling you as close to him as physically possible. The heat between your legs was unbearable and you squeezed your thighs around him as you chased an orgasm like the ones Lucy had told you all about.
Norm squeezed your hips and held you in place as he began to thrust into you. Your nightgown has bunched around your waist long ago leaving your standard cotton panties the only barrier between you and Norm. Well, with his robe coming more undone with each thrust, you didn’t really count his pajama pants as a barrier. Maybe I should have , you thought as soon as you felt the sticky heat of Norm’s pants against your own dampening underwear.
“Please, Norm.” You whimpered desperately, now pulling at his robe wishing to feel his skin on yours. Norm moaned something you couldn’t quite hear over the drumming of your heart and, quick as a flash you found looking up at Norm from on your back.
“Can we—can we wait a second?” Norm asked, looking down at you seriously. You fought the urge to huff but it faded on its own as soon as you saw a look on his face caught between confusion and clarity.
“Are you really sure you want to do this with me of all people? I’m not exactly Triennial Trade Material.”
You let out a soft sigh and stroked his cheek gently, your heart breaking at the boy above you that you knew with your whole heart you’d always loved.
“Norman MacLean.” His ears perked at his full name leaving your lips and his gaze on you only intensified. “I’ve loved you since before I knew was love was. Of course I want to do this with you.”
⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹
“On the count of three, okay? Norm nodded his head firmly in agreement.
One
You watch Norm fiddle with the waist band of his pants, loosening the drawstrings so he could drop them quickly, his robe long gone.
Two
You began to pull your arms loose from your gown, your underwear already in a pool beside your feet from a few moments earlier. You were ready for the final count.
Three
The slight whoosh of fabric as it fell to the floor dented the silence of the bedroom as you and Norm now stood full facing each other, fully naked, at the foot of your bed. You and Norm’s bed. The bed you were now moving towards as Norm followed your lead and joined you beneath the covers.
“And you’re sure that you’re sure?” Norm asked again, reaching out to brush your hair behind your ear.
“Absolutely.”
You smiled at him softly before snuggling closer to him, pressing your naked body against his under the quilt. His chest was slight but firm as it pressed into your own. Norm’s many menial jobs may have left him unfulfilled and uninterested but they also left him lithe and strong. He reciprocated your embrace and pulled you in closer, surprising you when he kissed you deeply. His tongue danced into your mouth and tangled with your own. You could feel desperate heat building in your stomach, melting downward to that place between your thighs you’d always tried to explore but always got too embarrassed to follow through. You didn’t care how healthy and normal Lucy said it was.
Don’t think of Lucy , you scolded yourself, think of Norm’s hand on your…
For just a split second you froze, your mature sensible realizing that it wasn’t just your horny hormone-addled brain seeing this. Norm was groping your breast, and you let out a whimper when he grazed his thumb across your pebbled nipple.
“Is that okay?” He asked, the slight smirk on his face telling you he already knew the answer.
“Touch me, Norm.” You said breathily, your voice dripping with honey—anything to get his hands where you ached the most. He moved to massage your chest again but you stopped him, “not there.” His gave you a puzzled look, his eyes seeking explanation in your own. You answered his unspoken question by letting your gaze drop between your bodies where Norm’s leaking cock pressed into your stomach.
Norm inhaled sharply before he made his next move. After a moment of staring in your eyes he let his hand drop and then you felt it. You knew Norm was a quick study even when he liked to act otherwise, but you didn’t know he’d been particularly attentive during the sexual education unit where you covered female anatomy, specifically that special place the clitoris.
Your name slipped past Norm’s lips as he circled your clit with his thumb, index finger gingerly rubbing up and down your slit, teasing open. You gasped when he slipped it inside—even one of his fingers made you so much fuller than when you dipped your hand beneath your panties at night, sometimes even next to Norm when you’d had sleepovers as children. You tried to forget how often you masturbated to him, shooing away any mention of it. But now, now it was impossible to forget as he slipped a second finger inside you and pushed deeper than you’d ever gone.
You clenched around his fingers and he groaned in response.
“I, I knew it would feel good but I didn’t know how good.” The wonder in Norm’s voice made it sound like he could have been talking to you or to the whole universe—having now experienced something close to a divine act when he slipped his fingers inside you.
“Tell me how it feels.” You said with a shiver, moaning again when Norm scissored his fingers against your slick walls.
“It feels wa-warm and s-s-so wet.” He stuttered out his answer as you grabbed his heavy cock, eager to touch him. Norm cursed as you gave it a tentative squeeze, exploring the piece of his body you hoped to know very well very soon. He wasn’t too long, but he had what you knew was called girth and Steph had told Lucy that counted more in the bedroom…and, of course, then Lucy told you.
Norm moved his fingers again, pumping them in and out of your wet heat as if challenging you to continue with his pleasure instead of letting him see to your own. In retaliation you stroked him again, smearing the precum decorating his tip down the shaft with a wet slide of your hand.
At that Norm lost his restraint and pushed you onto your back. You pouted at the loss of his fingers but were quickly met with something else entirely.
The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance, pushing in ever so slightly each time Norm dragged his cock head up and down your slit. It has happened so quickly you didn’t have time to process the shift and, just as quickly, you brought your hand down to where your bodies waited to meet and guided Norm inside.
Gasps and the sound of wet skin connecting filled the room. You and Norm too taken with each other to say anything aloud, your eyes silently letting the other know everything that would have been said. You wrapped your fingers in his hair tugging it as you messed up his perfect part and he groaned at the sensation, speeding up his thrusts inside of you as you frantically chased your peak.
You’d gotten close before when Norm had fingered you but your own impatience had gotten the best of you. Now, though, as Norm let out delicious grunts and whimpers with each thrust inside your sopping hole you knew it was here and with a scream you fell over the edge.
Norm followed shortly afterward, pumping his hips slowly and pulling you close as you felt his hot release shooting inside of you. A tiny part of you wondered if you’d get pregnant and what your family with Norm would be like, but any thoughts of your future children were thrown away as Norm pulled out and then began pushing his cum back inside you, fingering you faster than he had before.
Still sensitive from your first orgasm your back arches from the bed and Norm had to hold your legs open to keep them from closing around his hand. You wanted him to stop, it was too much, but it also was just right, the way he pushed his cum deeper inside you, pushing into that spongy spot you’d been unable to find yourself.
“Norm, Norm!” You panted frantically, “Ff-fudg-FUCK” you cried out as you came, a mixture of your own release, a small smear of blood, and Norm’s cum leaking out onto the sheet. You moved to get up, but Norm stopped you, telling you to wait while he ran to the bathroom. He returned with a damp rag that felt warm and soothing when he cleaned between your legs.
“You should go to the bathroom.” He said matter-of-fact, “I’ll change the sheet.”
You gave him a kiss before leaving the bed and doing exactly what Norm had requested. Before you flicked off the light you caught your reflection in the mirror. You stared at yourself, trying to find something different on your face, on your skin, anything. The only thing that looked different you’d decided—besides your swollen lips and sore pussy—was the look on your face. You seemed peaceful. Content. Like maybe in spite what Lucy finds on the surface or everything Norm discovered in 32, there’s faith that it will all pan out.
You let that thought carry you back to bed where Norm is finishing remaking it, spreading the blankets back out over top. Your lights cast a warm glow over the scene and once in bed you snuggle in tight together, so close your noses are almost touching. Norm whispers your name and you answer him with a quiet yes.
“I love you, too.” He smiled sheepishly before continuing, “I forgot to say it back earlier and I wanted to say it before I asked you.”
“Asked me what?”
“To marry me.”
“So ask me then.” You gave him a smirk, biting your lip in anticipation as he cleared his throat.