V's motorbike growled as he sped through the night. As he rode, he thought about the state of his apartment. Misty had been looking after Nibbles, but V couldn’t imagine what kind of disaster awaited him. Unwashed dishes, piles of laundry, and whatever mess the cat had made—it was going to be a rough homecoming. After he reached his building, parked his bike, and took the creaky elevator up, he mentally prepared himself for a cleaning frenzy.

V paused when he reached his door, tension prickling at the back of his neck. The reader glowed green, indicating the door was unlocked. Preparing himself for the worst, V pressed the button and the door slid open. Kerry was lounging on his couch, feet propped up on the coffee table and a mischievous grin on his face.

“Ker?” V’s voice was a mix of surprise and confusion. “How the hell did you get in here?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Hacked the lock with some tech a fan sent me. Thought I’d surprise you.”

V, shaking his head, closed and locked the door behind him. He was unsure how he felt about that. Then again, he can't talk. He and Johnny did the exact same to him.

“This place is a mess. Sorry.”

“Doesn’t bother me. ‘sides, I’ve seen worse. You should’ve seen my place after my divorce.”

V raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips. “Worse than it is now?”

Kerry laughed. “Much worse. But yeah, my place is still a disaster. So you’re in good company.”

V sighed with mock exasperation. “Guess I’ve got some work to do. Mind lendin' a hand?”

“Eh, yeah, sure thing. But first, get in the shower. I can smell you from here.”

“Alright, deal. Just don’t break anything while I’m gone.”

“No promises.” Kerry teased.

V headed to the bathroom and quickly stripped before turning on the shower. As the spray hit him, he felt a moment of peace settle over him like a comforting blanket. He let out a sigh of relief.

“Mind if I join?” Kerry was leaning against the wall, arms folded and a playful glint in his eyes.

“It would be my pleasure.”

Kerry began undressing, his movements unhurried and confident. He stepped into the shower and started humming a soft tune that V didn't recognise. As the warm water cascaded over them, V found himself smiling as the melody weaved through the steam.

“Is that from the new album you’re working on?”

He leaned in closer, his voice a soft murmur. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just for you.”

V’s heart skipped a beat. The closeness of Kerry’s body and the intimacy of the moment made everything else fade away. He reached out, gently brushing a wet strand of hair from his forehead. “I like it."

Kerry smiled, his fingers trailing a path down V’s arm. “Good. Because you better stick around for the encore.”

V traced his palm across Kerry’s cheek and placed his other hand on his chest. As he leaned in, Kerry met him halfway, tilting his face closer until their lips gently met.

“You’ve got mud in your hair, V. And a few new scratches and bruises. I never asked, what the hell are you doin’ in Dogtown? I didn’t think it was possible for work to run dry in the city.” He wondered aloud, squeezing shampoo into his palm and lathering. He ran his hands through V’s short hair. The sensation felt nice as Kerry massaged his scalp.

V explained the situation - the FIA, the president, and the possibility of a cure. His eyes fell shut as Kerry helped him rinse the shampoo from his hair before moving on to the conditioner. After their shower, V dressed in a loose shirt and shorts while Kerry donned the same bougie bathrobe he’d worn when they first met.

They ordered takeout for dinner, opting for some greasy scop burgers and fries from a nearby joint. V cleared a space on the cluttered coffee table to make room for the food, pushing aside old screamsheets and empty drink cans. Nibbles hopped up on the coffee table sniffing at their food before V shooed him away.

Settling on the couch, they flipped through the channels until they landed on a trashy reality show. It was the kind of mindless dribble that made the perfect background noise for their quiet evening. Kerry stretched out, propping his legs up on the coffee table while V leaned into his side. They shared lazy kisses, occasionally breaking apart to laugh at the absurdity on the screen.

The evening had a surreal quality, a bizarre blend of the ordinary and the extraordinary. V wasn’t really paying much attention to the TV until an ad for Kerry’s and Us Cracks’ new song release came on. It felt strange to see the world-renowned rocker on screen while he was sitting right beside him in his working-class megabuilding apartment.

Kerry glanced at the screen, a small smile playing on his lips. “Weird, huh?”

“Yeah. Kinda.” V agreed, his voice soft as Kerry pulled him closer and intertwined their fingers.

For a moment, they just sat there silently. In that small apartment, with the neon lights filtering through the metal blinds, V remembered something Dexter DeShawn had asked him.

"Is it better to die in a quiet life, or in a blaze of glory?"

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

They went to bed soon after, their hands slowly exploring each other’s bodies. Unlike the boat, there was nothing urgent about this. V traced his fingers across Kerry’s soft skin and then over the gold and black implants on his chest, wondering if they were part of his vocal cyberware. Kerry, meanwhile, lay back on V’s bed, running his hands up his forearms, feeling the divots of the mercenary's combat implants.

“You got mantis blades or somethin’?” He asked, his voice a soft murmur in the dim room.

“Yeah.” V confirmed. “Vik installed them recently. They come in handy when you wake up in a scav’s ice bath after they take all your weapons and clothes.”

“What the hell!” Kerry’s eyes widened with a mix of horror and fascination.

V propped himself up on his elbow. “It’s true. I put on a spiked BD wreath at the cherry blossom market and woke up naked in a bathtub of ice. I was just lucky they hadn’t started carvin' me up.”

V’s thoughts drifted for a moment. He didn’t tell Kerry that the spiked BD wreath had actually successfully killed him (for the second, or was it third, time?) and that the biochip in his head had rebooted him. How many more times could he escape fate? Was he like a cat burning through his nine lives?

V pushed his thoughts aside for now as Kerry began to run his hands through his damp hair.

“Whoa! Y’know, you’re somethin’ else, V.” He said. “You're goin' through hell, and yet you’re fighting on… even after puttin' on a scav’s spiked wreath, you gonk.”

“I’m too stubborn to die.”

Kerry leaned in, their foreheads touching. “I, eh….That fire in you… is inspiring.” He finally said, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“I gotta have hope I'll survive this Ker. Without it, I got nothin’.”

"That's what I like about you." Kerry whispered, lips brushing against V’s.

V ran a hand up Kerry’s bare thigh, massaging his thumb into the muscle. Kerry’s legs seemed to be implant-free, unlike V’s.‘Spose Kerry didn’t need ‘em, he figured.

The merc sat up briefly, tugging his shirt over his head and chucking it to the floor before returning to his previous position, hand back on Kerry’s thigh.

“I noticed your tattoos last time, but I just realised, you’re pretty chromed up too.”

“I don’t got a Mr. Stud implant if you’re wonderin’. I like my cyberware, but I’m not about to do that to myself.” V laughed.

“Ha, I know, V. Is that a Valentino’s tattoo, by the way?” the rocker asked.

V peered down at his chest. Across his heart was a large image of Santa Muerte. “Nah. She's the lady of death. Got it when I was a teen. It’s... kinda a Heywood thing. She's our patron saint. She's said to protect us, heal us, and send us safely to the afterlife." V faltered, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. He still prayed to her before every gig outta habit.

"Eh, I got spiritual needs too." Kerry said, tracing the edge of the tattoo. “Heywood, huh? Tough neighborhood. You said before that you grew up there, right?”

“Yeah.” V replied, his voice softening. “It’s home. Even if it’s rough around the edges.”

“Guess that’s where you got all these?” Kerry gestured to V’s other tattoos, and scars, a mixture of symbols, phrases, and images.

“Yeah, each one’s got a story.” V said. “Some good, some not so good. But they’re all a part of me.”

Kerry’s hand stopped on the dermal armour implants hidden under the flesh of his abdomen. V’s hand on his thigh was driving him crazy, sending molten heat to his groin.

Kerry tilted his hips and kissed him, pressing his body against V’s. The merc got the message and his own body responded in the same way. V hooked his thumb under the rocker’s underwear and tugged them down in one fluid motion before crawling down on all fours and taking him in his mouth.

“Fuck.” Kerry moaned, catching eyes with V before descending down again. Kerry’s whispered moans filled the room as V’s tongue and lips worked his cock until the rocker had enough. He pushed his head back and they kissed again, teeth gnashing, and Kerry slid his tongue down his throat.

V sat up on his knees, hands wrapped around Kerry’s waist while he let him dominate his mouth. They broke apart momentarily, allowing a moment for V to shuffle through the shelf at the end of his bed for the lube.

“Have you ever had someone do you up the ass before?” Kerry asked, leaning back against V’s pillow and watching as he struggled to open the lid of the bottle.

“No.” He admitted. “You’re the first person I’ve ever done anal with.”

Kerry barked out a raspy laugh, not to mock his inexperience, but out of genuine surprise. “What really?”

“Actually, you’re also the first guy I’ve ever been with.” He said. “I always knew I was bi, but I only ever had girlfriends before.”

“C’mere V.” Kerry kissed him. “I’ll show you the ropes.”

They went through the motions of Kerry showing him how to prep before they fell back into bed in each other’s arms. Kerry was a chaotic motherfucker at the best of times, but not tonight. At least, not right now. That was proven when he first entered V. It hurt a lot at first, but they took it slow. Soon enough it started to feel good. Real good. The rocker knew what he was doing, that was for sure.

“Oh…”

“You like that?” Kerry hissed into his ear.

“Yeah. I do.” V breathed.

Their chests heaved a shared rhythm and V’s eyes rolled back as he lost himself in the moment. While his lover pumped into him, V felt unusually malleable laying underneath this beautiful man. The neon lights shining from his window cast a kaleidoscope of colours across his face, highlighting his features in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.

"Fuck," V mewled. He was so wildly attracted to Kerry. He couldn't believe he slept with him the first time 'round - let alone it happening again!

They flipped over and V was suddenly on all fours again. Kerry growled, planting a firm slap on his ass before cradling his body over him. He bit into his shoulder as he entered V for the second time that night. It didn't hurt this time and the sensation of his hands gripping his hips as he filled him rendered his legs into jelly. It was rough, animalistic, and guided simply by the need to touch each other, to chase their pleasure, to be close.

The scar on V’s face—a slash across his lips and along his cheek—was a lifelong reminder to keep his guard up. But in that moment, as his release finally came, all his carefully crafted defenses came crashing down at once when V realised he was in love.

Kerry rolled onto the bed beside him with a look of content on his face like a well-fed, happy cat. “Think I need a smoke after that.”

“I think I need another shower.” V murmured, awkwardly shifting as he felt Kerry’s seed start to drip out of him and down his legs. He didn't want to dirty his sheets, he thought, before noticing the wet patch that had already dirtied them from his own release.

V grabbed his discarded shirt from the floor and wiped himself down with it as Kerry got up to the bathroom to clean himself up.

He was still dripping. Fuckin’ hell. Is that what it felt like for everyone?

V shuffled to the bathroom where Kerry was wiping himself down with toilet paper.

“You okay V?” He asked.

“Yeah, fine!” The merc replied, quickly jumping into the shower.

As he washed himself, anxiety gripped him by the throat. If what he felt for Kerry was truly love, he hoped their romance wasn’t doomed. He hoped more than ever that the cure the FIA promised would work, that it wasn’t just a lie that'll lead him back to square one. The thought of hurting Kerry if it all went bust weighed heavily on his mind.

They climbed back into bed together, exhaustion setting in bone-deep.

“Hey Ker,” V asked.

“Yeah.”

“You have to do a lot of prep to do it up the ass.”

Kerry snorted. “Eh, not really. You get used to it once you’ve done it a couple times.”

“Did you ‘prep’ before meetin' me on Kovachek’s boat?” He wondered aloud. He could see Kerry’s wide grin in the dark and it told him all he needed to know.