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hearteyedbunny · 7 months

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i gave myself brainrot when i made a post talking about arty patching up danse in a weirdly intimate way, so i needed to write an actual piece about it. this is before they catch feelings, but maybe this is the start of it?? hmm.....

this fic can also be found on ao3!

Touch || Paladin Danse/Sole Survivor

It was a routine mission, the two of them tasked with patrolling the area and reporting back any findings to Elder Maxson. Simple enough, and it almost went off without any issue, which was a strange occurrence when attempting to get anything done alongside Artemis. For once, though, there had been no backtalk from him, no bickering, and no disobeying orders. He had only muttered a ‘yes, sir’ and they had headed on their way. Danse would almost think something was wrong if he didn’t revel in the rare silence and obedience from his subordinate. Though, he made a mental note to check in on the Knight once they arrived back at the Prydwen. As much as Danse disliked the other man, he was still responsible for the wellbeing of the soldiers under his command.

Everything was going smoothly, both of them mostly keeping to themselves besides Danse barking out a few orders here and there, when suddenly he was stopping in his tracks, catching the attention of Artemis.

“What’s up?”

“The joints in my right arm are loose,” He punctuated his statement by rolling the shoulder of his armor and scrunching up his face a little, “It’s making it difficult to wield my weapon.”

“Mmm,” Artemis mused for a moment as he looked around, “I know this area. There’s an old abandoned gas station further up ahead,” He motioned in the general direction with a quick nod of his chin, “Could be useful.”

“Outstanding,” Danse replied, and Artemis rolled his eyes at the praise, “Lead the way, soldier.”

Artemis took the lead, Danse in tow behind him as they walked the short distance to the mentioned building. To their relief, there was a power armor workstation in the garage of the building. Danse was urgent on doing a quick scope of the area to make sure they wouldn’t have any surprise guests, then wasted no time in docking his armor and getting to work.

It’s not like Artemis had never seen Danse out of his armor before, they lived together aboard the Prydwen after all, but he couldn’t help but steal a look as the Paladin stepped out of his armor. His orange jumpsuit was obviously worn and used thoroughly, speckled with dirt and a few oil stains. Despite its use, it still hugged his body in all the right places. The soft curve of his belly straining against the material of his suit caught Artemis’ attention, before he caught himself staring, instead taking great interest in looking at a spot of dirt on the crumbling wall.

“This shouldn’t take long. The joints just need some adjusting,” Danse pulled out a small set of tools he kept in the chest compartment of his armor for specific occasions like this. You could never be too prepared when traversing the wasteland.

Artemis only hummed in acknowledgment. He didn’t really care, simply relieved to be out of the sun for a while. He made himself comfortable, plopping down in a rickety chair that was strewn into the corner of the garage. He unsheathed his combat knife from his belt, using it to absentmindedly pick at his nails as he waited.

It was only a few moments before Artemis was startled by one of Danse’s tools clanging loudly to the concrete floor, quickly followed by a muttered curse under the Paladin’s breath. Danse emerged from behind the suit of armor right after, his palm bloody.

“What the hell happened?” Artemis didn’t appear terribly concerned as he stayed seated, but he craned his neck a bit in an attempt to see what had happened.

“I don’t know. My hand must have slipped,” Danse was pressing the thumb of his left hand into the cut, attempting to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. Whatever piece of metal had cut him had sliced right through the glove of his jumpsuit, “There's a first aid kit in the storage unit of my armor.”

Artemis rose to his feet, unlocking the front of the armor and rummaging around for just a moment before he found what he was looking for. He ushered Danse to sit in the previously occupied chair in the corner, while Artemis sank to his knees in front of him. He removed Danse’s ruined glove, his fingers wrapping around the Paladin’s arm to keep him steady. Artemis pressed his thumb against the veins in the other man’s wrist, able to feel the faint thrumming of his heartbeat.

“I apologize,” Danse watched Artemis dab at his palm with a piece of cloth, attempting to clean up the blood, and then apply pressure to stop the bleeding all together. Danse felt his fingers twitch impatiently. He was annoyed with himself, “I only meant for us to be stationed here for a few minutes at most. Now we’re a vulnerable target if we sit here too long.”

The bleeding seemed to stop after a few moments, the cut not being very deep at all. Without warning, Artemis poured a small amount of antiseptic onto the wound. Danse’s face twitched in discomfort at the stinging sensation, but otherwise he didn’t complain.

“I’m not that worried,” Thankfully there was a bit of gauze in the kit, Artemis beginning to unroll it with both his hands. Cleaning up the wound left Artemis’ fingers speckled with a bit of blood, “I’m not helpless, I can shoot if someone comes up on us.”

“I understand, but–”

“Just shut up and let me finish, Danse,” Artemis was looking up at him, his brows scrunching up in annoyance. Then again, Danse supposed he looked like that most of the time by default, “I’ll be quick and we can get out of here sooner, if it really bothers you that much.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Lockett,” It was Danse’s turn to look annoyed, but he didn’t push any further, there would be no point in bickering over something as small as this, “But alright, do as you will, then.”

“Whatever,” Artemis glanced back down at the task at hand, his grip surprisingly soft despite his growing annoyance with his superior. Danse’s eyes followed the movement of his fingers as he rolled up the sleeve of Danse’s jumpsuit, his fingertips ghosting across Danse’s skin as he did so. The pads of his fingers were soft, so much unlike Danse’s own that were rough and calloused from years of rugged use. The thumb still against his wrist was warm. Goosebumps suddenly spread all across Danse’s arm, causing him to shiver.

Artemis didn’t seem to notice, beginning to wrap up the injury he was holding in his hands, starting at the wrist, and working the gauze around the palm of Danse’s large hand. Danse would never describe Artemis as a gentle person, so it took him by surprise as he watched him meticulously and carefully doctor up his cut, seemingly giving extra care not to pull the material too tight. For the first time, Danse was close enough to Artemis to notice the various moles and freckles that littered themselves across his knuckles and up onto his arms, most of them disappearing into the dark wisps of hair growing along his tanned, muscled forearms. Danse noted a few small, healed over scars scattered along the back of his hands, and briefly wondered where he had gotten them.

Though he had finally finished wrapping up the injury, Artemis’ fingers still lingered along the Paladin’s own. Danse suddenly felt very warm, and didn’t know why.

“Is that too tight?” Artemis’ voice was low as he glanced back up at Danse. His eyes were the same color as a storm at sea, but his expression was faintly softened.

Danse had never thought about how handsome Artemis was until this moment, as the other man gazed up at him. His inky black hair was growing out, much longer than it was when they had met many months ago. It was starting to curl around his ears and along his neck, but it framed his angular face nicely. His dark stubble was starting to come in from neglecting to shave for a couple of days, the fuzz dusting along his shapely jaw and right above his top lip. The moles along his arms were copied here, scattering themselves in random spots along his face. Danse couldn’t help but trace the curve of Artemis’ lips with his eyes, wondering if they were as soft as they looked…

“Paladin?” Artemis’ voice asked again, snapping Danse out of his thoughts, “Is it too tight?”

“Uh…” Danse cleared his throat awkwardly, finally looking away and blinking a few times as he felt his face become increasingly warm again, “No…No, it’s alright. Thank you, Knight.”

“Sure,” Artemis finally stood from his kneeling position, and Danse didn’t quite understand why he felt disappointed when their fingers finally disconnected, “Finish up if you want, but you’re right. We shouldn’t stay here too long.”

“Right,” Danse stood as well, flexing his fingers experimentally and feeling the sting of the cut, but it didn’t seem to deter him as he made his way back to his armor. He retrieved his abandoned tool from the ground and was quick to continue his adjustments, “I’ll just be a moment.”

“You promise this time?” Humor was evident on Artemis’ face, a small smirk lighting up his features. A dimple indented itself in his right cheek.

“Yes. I promise,” Danse didn’t return the smile, but his eyes sparkled with something akin to mild amusement as they looked at each other. It was a pleasant surprise when Artemis dropped his gruff exterior and seemed a little more lighthearted. Danse appreciated the rare comradery.

It didn’t take long at all for Danse to finish up his work on the armor, just as he had said. As soon as he was satisfied with the tightness of the joints, he began to gather up his supplies and put them back where they belonged. He was almost overjoyed when he jumped back into his armor, always tending to feel naked and vulnerable when he was outside of it. The familiar snugness of the suit always made him feel comfortable. Safe.

They were quick to make their way out of the little run down building, Danse resuming his role by taking the lead and continuing their mission just as they were before. Nothing had changed, and yet Danse caught himself being distracted more often than not. Even after they had returned to the Prydwen and gone their separate ways for the day, Danse couldn’t quite shake the image of Artemis’ hands against his own.

The scene kept replaying in his head over and over again, even as he attempted to distract himself by tinkering with his armor further. If anything, it only reminded him of the memory that looped in his head. Artemis had been so careful with him, a stark contrast to the standoffish and, quite frankly, difficult man that he usually was. Danse thought about the dark hair on Artemis’ arms, the freckles that scattered along his skin. He thought about the scars on the back of his hands. Would his skin feel warm if Danse pressed his own lips against his knuckles? How would those soft fingers feel cupping Danse’s face, with Artemis’ thumb rubbing his cheek? Would Danse’s skin bubble up into goosebumps again if Artemis ran those hands along his biceps, his pecs, his stomach…?

Danse squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his face burn bright and hot again, finally deciding that maybe the best course of action was to take a very long, and very cold shower.

#kas writes stuff #artemis tag #danse/art #paladin danse #sole survivor #if danse is ooc no he isnt <3 #dont know what else to tag this #i finally figured out a pleasant way to format my fics on tumblr wahoooo #this was so fun to write. i havent had FUN writing in...........a while. which sounds insane but i like making things hard for myself

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