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"So." The Ghoul strode across the room, spurs jingling with every cautious step. Sat in front of him, in the once empty and decayed chair was the seemingly whole body of Robert House. Cooper had heard about the man's endeavour to live forever, though the last time he saw him he was on permanent life support and living through a screen. Now, he was standing in front of him again. In the flesh. Every detail was perfect, it was as if he was preserved, perfectly frozen in time- aside from a bit of greying around his temples.
But he wasn't human, not anymore. No.
"The greatest feat of human engineering." The man smiled, eyes crinkling in the corners. "I have to admit, they made me look older than I would have liked, but I suppose my old body didn't exactly stand the test of time, did it?" A synth. He was a synth. Cooper had heard rumors, whispers about The Institute and their human clone robot prototypes, but the last he'd heard they only managed to make two successful sentient robots. Apparently, they had advanced far beyond his imagination in the last hundred years.
"Impressive, isn't it? They said it could not be done. A full brain transplant from flesh to metal." His voice was smooth, no longer affected by the crackle of the speakers. Perhaps he was just getting old and forgetful, but The Ghoul could swear House had adopted an almost southern drawl amongst his old timey transatlantic speak.
"So you ain't a clone? Couldn't give us the grace of lettin' yourself die, huh?" He responded, eyeing the freshly reborn Robert House up and down. House merely chuckled, shaking his head.
"The institute wished to experiment with brain transplants, to merge the organic with the synthetic without simply cloning a person's DNA and cloning them. Rather impressive, isnt it? Pity I didn't think of it first." The man mused, smoothing out his suit as he spun around to face the dead screen.
"I must admit, Mr Howard." The name sat heavy in the air like tar. "I miss being able to simply observe The Mojave. It was a...simpler time." Looking down thoughtfully, House took a small remote in his hands. "I am still able to watch on, but it is not as accessible to me anymore."
"Couldn't you just, I dunno, walk outside?" Coop laughed, hands slipping inside of his jean pockets. This remark emitted a scoff from the other man, who swivelled his chair back around in exasperation.
"It isn't that simple. You see, I am somewhat hated around The Mojave. I was untouchable before, but now I am more vulnerable." What a ridiculous remark. House had only gone from one form of isolation to another. Yet, the more The Ghoul thought about it, the more it made sense.
Physically, he was untouchable before. He could weave his way onto any computer system he wished at any time. This new body, made of faux flesh and metal, was more restrictive.
"Besides, walking long distances is currently a challenge." He sighed, gesturing to the shoddily restored wheelchair resting in park against the side of the desk holding his many security monitors.
"Quite a humiliating experience." He added, slouching ever so slightly as he rested his head in his hand.
The ghoul smiled. Something inside of him felt pity, a small pang in the pit of his stomach. Yet, the overwhelming feeling of glee washed over him. It wasn't that he enjoyed seeing people suffer, but it was widely understood that Robert House was not people. 200 years of being trapped within the confines of a screen only to be like a mole rat on ice when he finally gained his mobility back. Poetic justice, perhaps.
"What do you want from me, House?" Cooper walked around the man, stalking him with an eagle eye. The House smiled again, and something in the Cowboy's chest tightened. That damn smile, that fucking shit-eating grin that Coop hated so much. It played in his mind constantly. Ever since they had reunited, he could not stop thinking about it.
It felt wrong. His priority had been Janey and Barb. He loved them. Even with the divorce, even with what Barb did he still loved her. Their faces were engrained into his mind, he made sure not to forget a single detail when it came to their appearances. He couldn't forget them.
But he knew what that tightening of the chest meant. He knew what the flashes in his mind told him. Of course, he hated the man. Yet, he loved a woman like Barb- no, this wasn't love. It was mere infatuation. It would pass.
"I simply wish for you to...understand that I mean no harm."
This translated to 'I have no idea what I want from you, Cooper.' Neither of them would point that out out loud, however. That would imply that House could want to see the man simply to be in his presence, and that Cooper reciprocated by pausing the search for his own family to meet with a man who had the ability to stop the destruction of the world yet stood by and watched. Always watching. Never living.
"Well, I suppose this is- you are dismissed." House moved again, shooing The Ghoul away as if he were a common pet. Cooper gritted his teeth, taking a deep breath as the man continued.
"This was a mistake. You and I both know we do not want to see each other. I am sure you wish for my downfall just as much as the others." A sudden moment of clarity perhaps, or simply a good observationist. Whatever the case, he was right. Coop wanted nothing more than to see him become yet another unaccounted for corpse in the middle of The Mojave, but alas....whatever higher power had forsaken them was not so merciful as to even grant him that pleasure.
Cooper Howard would have left, would have fled to his wife and daughter and held those two beautiful women in his arms as if nothing else in the world mattered. He would forget about the mysterious man whose gaze dug itself into the depths of his decaying mind.
Barb was gone. Janey was gone. He had no one to hold, now that he shoved away the only semblance of allyship he had left in Lucy.
Cooper Howard was dead. The Ghoul now stood in his place. The Ghoul was primal, animalistic. He was no longer human, he was something else entirely.
All of that pent up rage and disdain for everything Robert House and Vault Tech stood for, how they took away his family. His life. It boiled up inside of him and gave witness to the birth of something new.
A hunger, deep in his chest , crept up his throat and threatened to spill out onto the stone floor. He studied the other man's form, his gaze lingering much lower than it should have. The man's suit was perfectly fitted, though the way he sat with his suit jacket open left Cooper's eyes to drift to his waistband.
Sinful, he wasn't a sodamite. It wasn't as if his old world views mattered much anymore, but if he were to keep some sense of dignity he sure as hell wasn't going to make himself out to be some kind of pansy.
"I ain't movin'" The Ghoul spoke, voice firm. He swaggered over to an incredibly confused House, whose brows furrowed in a way so unnaturally human for what he was. How disgusting. A man as egotistical as Robert Edwin House cannot even spare a single ounce of humanity, not even to himself. To die like a human, or to live long enough to accept what you have become.
The House had chosen neither, and The House always wins no matter what.
The Ghoul thought it was damn time The House was taught a lesson.
He didn't exactly have a plan in mind, originally he had wanted House dead. He still did. Yet, that hunger, it feasted upon his fury and pooled his blood to places he would rather not think about. Ripping this man open, leaving him laid bare for the world to see. He wanted to leave his mark, make him vulnerable.
“Answer me this. You synths don't feel pain, right?” The Ghoul mused, edging closer to the other man. House gave a suspicious nod, opening his mouth to speak, a small noise of surprise coming out of him as The Ghoul came to straddle his lap and hold a knife up to his throat.
“So forward.” House grimaced, the blade pushing closer towards his skin. The Ghoul felt that hunger grow, warmth spreading through his body like an erupting volcano.
Something brushed against his knee as he readjusted himself, practically on the man's lap. He pressed further against it, not quite comprehending exactly what he was pushing against until House made another small whimpering sound.
“Uhm.” The Ghoul climbed off of the man, holding his knife up to his lips in deep thought. “You, ah, you have a little-” He crossed his arms, waving the blade in the air vaguely as he gestured to the synths crotch. House looked down, Adam's apple visibly bobbing as he swallowed.
What the hell. The Ghoul had seen synths before, they were smooth everywhere.. even down there. He tried not to stare, but it was hard. This was not what he wanted when he said he wished for the man to be vulnerable. It was a violent hunger.
Yet, he felt his eyes drawn to the bulge in the other man's otherwise pristine suit. Images flashed in his head. The picture of House in a ruined suit panting and red made his blood fizzle. It wasn't anger, he tried so hard to make himself angry. It was as if he was injected with some sort of aphrodisiac. It was all fuzzy, his feelings that is. His mind was completely clear, a little too clear in all honesty, but he felt so confused.
Hate mixed with desire and lust, and he couldn't help but wonder what the other man tasted like.
The cowboy swallowed hard, approaching the man once more. “So..You uh. Fully functional?”
“I beg your pardon?” The synth stared wide eyed, a synthetic flush creeping across false skin.
“You heard me.” He stood firm, packing his knife back into his bag with his gloves following suit. House stuttered, making an array of pathetic choking noises as he answered.
“Are you making advances on me, Mr Howard?”
“You ain't got the right to call me that. Do ya want me to or not?” The Ghoul spat, hands resting on his hips.
House looked deep in thought, before he smiled.
“I thought you hated me.” House raised an inquisitive brow. The Ghoul growled, rolling his eyes. He did, he hated this man with all his soul but in that moment he wanted nothing more than to rip his soul open and bare witness to his true naked form. The feeling was almost primal, for he felt as if he would go feral should he not see that man completely ruined.
“I do. I also know that we're both lonely. How about we just do each other a favour, yeah?” He sighed, practically bursting at this point. Cooper Howard, when he still existed, had been quite the ladies man. Before Barb, he had a number of admires, both male and female. Rarely would he take their advances, though he did fold occasionally. The public would never find out, but he had occasionally engaged in intimate acts with other men. There was usually a lot of cocaine involved, but it still felt right in a way.
“I suppose I am a little out of practice, have you pursued a man before?” House shifted, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie. The ghoul simply grumbled in response, practically launching at the man and pressing his lips to his own. House let out a small moan as he deepened the kiss, hands coming up to grip the synth's hair. It felt strange, yet neither of the two men found themselves able to pull away. House's hands crept beneath The Ghouls coat, tracing the edge of his belt.
His touch was soft, warm. The Ghoul chalked it up to some sort of heating system in the synth's body, but in the moment it felt so real and human. He leaned into the touch, fingers pressing into his waist and hip bone, eliciting a small purr from the cowboy. The Ghoul found his own hands sliding to the front of House's shirt, undoing his tie clumsily and fiddling with the buttons down his front. It was an uncoordinated dance, The Ghoul’s coat and bag ended up on the floor in a heap next to the synth’s jacket.
The Ghoul began to kiss down House's neck, the warmth of the synthetic skin under his lips eliciting an intense urge to bite down. He chose to ignore it, one hand coming to snake behind the man's head as he kissed further and further down. It wasn't hard to forget the man beneath him was not of real flesh and blood. The array of pleasured noises accompanied by twitching, desperate fingers still dancing around his belt made his head swim to the point where nothing else mattered.
“Let-let me attend to-” House breathed, yanking slightly on the front of The Ghouls belt. He stepped back off of the other man's lap, watching as the synth let the movement guide him off of his chair and onto the floor. He fumbled with the buckle, hastily slipping it open as desperate hands came to slide down the Cowboy's pants and underwear.
House grabbed The Ghoul's cock in his hands, rubbing a finger over the tip thoughtfully. The Ghoul didn't even know if he could cum naturally anymore, with the radiation and everything affecting his body. Whatever was left inside of him was long dead. That bomb was one hell of a contraceptive.
“You are rather impressive. I wonder if this body has a gag reflex?” House mused, eyes glancing upwards towards the man.
The Ghoul didn't think of himself as a particularly big guy package wise, especially after the number ghoulification did to his body. That being said, he didn't exactly stand next to men and compare dick sizes regularly. Regardless, he would take the compliment, especially with the imagery of House gagging on him that came with it.
The Ghoul shuddered before speaking up. “There's some aloe in my sack if you wanna use that.”
House crawled over to the man's saddlebag, rummaging around until he fished out a small bottle of aloe. He smirked, turning and crawling back towards The Ghoul.
“I suppose this is for burns?” The synth looked up at the man, pouring some of the gel onto his hands before slowly massaging it into The Ghoul's cock.
The Ghoul groaned, nodding as he tried desperately not to immediately buck into the other man's hands.
“The sun's harsh. Even with skin like mine.” He managed to say, watching as House began to pump his cock. Why was he even engaging with the man? This situation was purely transactional.
The Ghoul got-well he got something out of it, and so did House.
With a pleasured moan, House took the others' length in his mouth, static gargled sounds emitting from the synth as the cock hit the back of his throat. The Ghoul began to struggle, to keep his composure and to stay together. He brought a hand to the synth's hair, gripping it for stability as his hips began to rock back and forth to the motion of House's sucking. He could feel himself edging closer, though he wished to last longer the visual in front of him paired with the blissful sensations caused him to crack.
He bucked, hands tightening in the other man's hair as he let out a gasp. He felt himself release into House's mouth, the other man pulling back with a spluttering cough.
He stumbled backwards, still intensely aroused by the whole situation. House was on his knees, hair rustled and mouth dripping with cum. Huh. Guess he still had it in him after all.
House wiped his mouth in his arm, grinning up at the man with a slightly dazed look in his eyes.
“Get up.” The Ghoul demanded, swallowing hard as he gazed upon the synth's giddy face.
The Ghoul sat down in House's chair, beckoning the man over the short distance and pointing to his lap. House sat, straddling one of the man's legs as he propped the bottle of lube up on the desk behind them.
“You're gonna do as I say, got it?” House nodded in response, kissing the man deeply as The Ghoul began the process of unbuckling his belt. It was awkward and took some work, but House was freed of his own pants and underwear, clad in his dress shirt and loosened tie. The Ghoul smirked, slipping a hand beneath his glove to take it off when his wrist was grabbed by a firm, though slightly clammy, hand.
“Keep them on. The hat too.” House swallowed, eyes determined. The Ghoul wanted to laugh, he really did, the irony was not lost on him.
“Kay, but this is the only favour I'm doing for you. Got it?”
“Of course.”
House flipped himself around, so that his back was against The Ghouls chest. He leaned back against his shoulder, pulling his head down into a passionate kiss once more.
The Ghoul gently bit the other's lip, hands slipping down his torso and hips, teasing in between his inner thighs. He grimaced, just a little, as he applied aloe to his leather gloves, the oil slipping and dripping off of his fingers. He threw the bottle to one side, focusing on the man sitting in his lap. The Ghoul took House's cock in his hands, grazing his tip with a thumb and sliding the appendage down the length of him. He wasn't a particularly impressive size, though The Ghoul did wonder if that was simply because synths came with standard…measurements. It is possible that, in his original body, House was rather-well, it didn't really matter.
House whimpered under his breath at the touch, entire body shivering with pleasure as leather gloves travelled up and down the entire length of him. It took everything in him not to beg for more, to buck into the touch and plead to be made to cum, but he had to somewhat keep his dignity, for now.
“You're a desperate thing, ain't ya?” The Ghoul whispered, as if he were talking to a wild animal he was trying to catch within his teeth. He quite enjoyed the metaphor, of him being the precious prey that Hollywood's favourite cowboy wished to catch between his jaws and claim as his meal for the night.
It was suffocating.
The Ghoul took the synth's Cock in his hand, slowly gliding his fist up and down the length in a pumping motion. The other hand, as if it had a mind of its own, wandered up House's shirt. Skin, synthetic material of some kind, flinched under his touch. He let it wander down the man's side, down to his hipbone then his pelvis. The sounds he made were nauseating. Moans and whimpers, primal and almost completely out of his control. They escaped his trembling lips as The Ghoul quickened his pace, biting into the crook of his neck with desperate jaws.
“Please. I need you-” House found himself choking out. It had been years since he had been touched, caressed, completely taken. He wished for the other man to completely overload his systems, however long it took. He felt the others breath on his neck, the teeth sinking into his skin and the kisses that followed. God, he was so close already.
Then, The Ghoul stopped and completely let go, he practically scooped House up and pinned him to the cold floor. It was not a graceful fall, neither men were particularly light, but neither took any notice as their lips crashed together once again.
The Ghoul fumbled for the oil, rubbing it all over his hands like a madman before kneeling in front of the man's legs and prying them apart. House complied, looking at him with a slightly confused look through the euphoria clouded daze he was in.
“I ain't gonna let you off so easily. You gotta put in some more work for me. Okay?” House nodded, allowing his legs to be hoisted up onto The Ghouls shoulders as he replied.
“I could not refuse such an offer?”
With that, The Ghoul made quick work of it. He adjusted the both of them one last time before carefully inserting a finger into the other man's ass. House gasped, groaning as The Ghoul began a steady motion with his finger. In and out, studying the man's face as he did so. Then two, then three.
“Flip over.” He ordered, gripping the synth's shoulders as he flipped onto his front. The Ghoul guided him onto all fours, standing up before carefully guiding his cock into the man's ass. They both let out an unceremonious noise, driving the cowboy to go deeper on the next thrust. Another rhythm began, House reaching for his own cock before his head was yanked back by the man above him.
“Not yet, darlin’.” He smirked, dropping the synth's head as his hands came to rest on each of his hips. He thrusted harder, deeper, relishing in the vast array of whimpers and moans that escaped from House's mouth. It didn't take him long to cum inside of the man, bucking wildly and gripping onto his likely ruined shirt as he released himself into him.
He wasn't done. He removed his cock, slathering it in some more aloe before slipping back inside of the synth, this time grabbing ahold of the other man's cock as well. He began to thrust into him again, pumping the other's cock along with each steady motion of his body. He made sure each thrust was deep, that each stroke of his hand was milking every last drop from him.
House gave a cry, shaking and bucking into The Ghoul's hand as he came. He spilled all over the floor, body practically convulsing even after the other removed himself from him. The Ghoul stumbled backwards, sitting down into the chair behind him. He watched as Robert House, multimillionaire and seemingly untouchable man practically collapsed onto his side, face flushed and body absolutely wrecked. What a fine job he did.
He removed his gloves, collecting his clothes and readjusting himself. The Ghoul looked over at House, wondering if maybe he should give him one last hand.
He stood in front of the man, dropping his clothes in front of him and crouching beside him.
“Was that good enough for ya?” He teased, the fantasy of what had occurred not yet fading.
“You are an impressive man.” House replied, standing with some difficulty.
The Ghoul didn't watch him dress himself, even after all they did that still felt indecent. Could synths get tired? Surely not. It was strange, he felt this urge to stay for a while. Wasn't nice manners, leaving someone you just had sex with without a proper goodbye. No matter who they are, apparently.
“I will deal with the mess later. I find myself growing quite tired.” House, now fully clothed, turned to The Ghoul and smiled. His face was flushed, clothing wrinkled and hair out of place.
“I expect you will be taking your leave. That was…a pleasant experience. Shall I-” He was cut off by a soft, chaste kiss, a scarred hand grazing his cheek.
“shut up.” Coop spoke, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
With that, he left. Perhaps a part of Cooper Howard was still in there. The Ghoul was primal, but Coop was soft and forgiving at times that weren't always appropriate. Coop was human, he cared for other humans as was instinct for him. And maybe, just maybe, he wasn't completely gone.