Chapter Text
Nick had become quite adept at finding new and novel ways to give his lady love mindblowing orgasms.
It was a strange world.
He rarely even felt that pang of loss any more, when his body’s lack of sexual apparatus and feedback conflicted with his implanted memories. That didn’t mean he stopped thinking about his options.
He loved her. That part he didn’t have to worry about not feeling. Maybe he didn’t have a flesh and blood heart, but he never questioned his feelings for her, not anymore. And because he loved her, like crazy loved her, he wanted to do whatever he could to make her happy.
Especially now.
The Institute was rubble and no one was happier about it than he was. Maybe they’d made him and he had to admit he was pretty damned grateful to be alive, but the things they did? The horrors they inflicted on the Commonwealth weren’t justified by the few things they didn’t fuck up.
They hadn’t done entirely right by him either which brought him back to his current line of thinking. By god, if he was capable of it, he swore he would still be blushing over even thinking it. So maybe that wasn’t a bad thing, that lack of blood. He had a better poker face this way.
They spent the last month trying to find some semblance of new normal. They worked on the settlement, planted crops, made plans. It was wonderful and domestic and Nick knew it wouldn’t last. It didn’t stop him from enjoying it while it did. Eventually, he was going to have to check the radio signal from Ellie and he was sure there would be plenty to do.
She’d agreed to become his partner full time once all the dust had settled. They were going to leave the big, world shattering events to other people and go back to saving one soul at a time. She got this twinkle in her eye when she said it.
“I’ll be your partner for as long as you’ll have me, Nick Valentine.”
He still smiled, remembering what he said in reply. “Don’t worry,” he’d purred at her. “When you get too old to keep up, I’ll just carry you.”
He meant it. Chances were, if he didn’t get blown into metal toothpicks, someday he’d have to bury her. He tried not to think about it too hard, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. The flesh born Nick Valentine lost the love of his life 200 years ago. He had a lot of make up for.
Still, all those good and unreasonable and sweet feelings aside, he had an idea. It was a terrible idea. It was most certainly a ridiculous and completely mortifying idea, but he was going to look into it anyway.
They were waiting on the caravan from Zimonja. It was both a Railroad outpost and a settlement these days. There were still plenty of synths to protect, plenty of problems to deal with. Zimonja was perfect for it. It was safe and remote and about as far as they could get from the Brotherhood of Steel.
It was an uneasy truce. Both sides were idiotic, closed minded and at least half wrong. Nick couldn’t wait to get away from it.
But the Railroad did know more about synths than anyone else left walking around as far as he knew. Tinker Tom was reportedly on his way to spend some time in Sanctuary and give their resident synths a checkup. Curie, Danse, Shaun...Sturges. That one still surprised him. Surprised the hell out of Sturges too, when he found out.
And of course, Nick himself. He had plans. He smirked again. Weird plans. But anything for her.
He heard the caravan first, off in the distance. Even Dogmeat’s sensitive hearing wasn’t as fine tuned as his was. Nick was immediately nervous. Was he really going to do this? He tried to get a grip on himself. He wasn’t going to ambush Tom the moment he came down the road. Tonight they’d undoubtedly celebrate. Afterwards, when the beer was flowing and Hancock had passed out the Mentats, it was only then that Nick would have to get up the courage to do this crazy foolish thing.
Right now, it was still early enough in the morning that she was asleep. She would want to be up and dressed to greet them. Might as well wake her with a kiss.
Nick knew he wasn’t much of a prince charming, but he did his best.
***
It was pretty late by the time he got Tom in private. He knew he could have tried to wait until he examined him -- he did that in private. The others looked human and had human weirdness about being naked with an audience. Nick didn’t have that problem up until, well, her. Hell, for the first few years after he woke up, he wandered around the Wasteland in nothing but his plastic skin. Why not? It wasn’t like he had modesty to protect.
Granted, he’d have more skin in a few places if he’d put a coat on sooner, but it was what it was.
Tinker Tom liked Jet and wasn’t particularly into sleeping so he knew there was time. Once nearly everyone else was done for (Hancock found a case of bourbon and well, that went about as well as he expected it would) and once Nick tucked his love into her bed, he found Tom at a workbench, puttering away. He wasn’t wearing that crazy helmet he was so fond of and instead his dark hair was a wild halo around his head. Tom said he didn’t need it since the Institute couldn’t listen to his thoughts anymore.
Tinker Tom was completely out of his fucking mind. Nick couldn’t believe he was doing this.
Tom looked up at his approach and smiled broad across his face.
“Mr. Valentine, my man, how are you doing?” He cocked his head. “Gonna give a you complete overhaul tomorrow, nothing to worry about.”
Nick chuckled. “So you said.” He rubbed his fingers over the brim of his hat. “Part of what I’m here about.”
“Oh? What you got for me? Something not working right?” Tom sounded excited. He always sounded excited to be honest, but he was always up for a mechanical challenge.
Well, this will challenge a couple things. A few moral imperatives at least.
“Actually, I, uh...I have a question.” Nick wondered if he looked as sheepish as he felt. “Maybe a request?”
“This sounds good,” Tom said. Clearly Tom noticed his trepidation. Nick regretted this already. “Lay it on me.”
Worst possible choice of words.
Nick cleared his throat, not that he needed to. “Well I-” He screwed up his lips. He tried to just blurt it out but the words weren't coming.
Even worse choice of words, Valentine.
He tried a different direction. “After Bunker Hill, I figure you have a lot of Gen 2 parts.”
“That I do,” Tom said. He deftly didn’t mention Nick's obvious discomfort. He might be a paranoid conspiracy theorist, but he had some social skills. “I’ve got some patches for you, help protect the old wiring. I’ve been practicing with the seams. I can blend the new skin right into the old stuff. You’re gonna love it.”
“I’m sure I will.” He hadn’t even thought about that. It would be nice, not having all the wires and tubes on display. Maybe he could have fingers with skin on both hands. That opened up some opportunities at least. “But there’s more I wanted to know…” He sighed. “Because, well you know, right? About us?”
“About you and our lovely pre-war vault dweller?” Tom laughed. “I’m pretty sure what’s going on there could be seen from space.” Tom slapped him on the shoulder.
Nick tried to smile but it felt like a grimace. “We’re lovers.”
"Good for you, my man." Tom grinned. He had this smug, knowing look on his face.
“And I'm sure you know the Institute didn’t bother with matching nature until they got to the Gen 3 synths. Before that we're just fancy robots.”
“Better than robots,” Tom said. “But-” He stopped dead. “Wait.” Tom scratched his head. “Lovers?”
“I’m doing my best,” Nick deadpanned.
“But how do you...oh my god. Are you asking me if I can…?” Tom’s voice trailed off. He couldn’t say it either.
“Trust me, no one is more surprised than me that we’re having this conversation.”
Tom furrowed his brow. “I’m sure it could be done. Not too complicated a thingy. Probably have to find a way to tap into the hydraulics.”
Nick wanted to pretend this wasn’t happening but he wanted to do this for her, for himself. even more. He didn’t want them to miss out on anything if they didn’t have to. Life was hard enough already.
He pointedly ignored several opportunities for innuendo.
Tom was patting his upper lip thoughtfully, his elbow perched on his wrist. He nodded a few times to himself.
“I can do it,” Tom blurted out. “I can build you a penis.”
Nick tried not to die of embarrassment. “Say it a little louder; I don’t think they heard you in Diamond City.”
Tom’s laugh rang out in the quiet. “Secret’s safe with me.”
“I doubt that,” Nick groused. He shook his head. “The things I do for love.”