Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Johnny leans against the cold concrete wall of an alley as his call rings, impatiently scuffing his leather boot against the pavement once, twice, three times before the call is picked up.

“Hello, you’re calling Mi–”

“I know, it’s me. Listen, Misty, I could use your eyes. Meet me in Jinguji.”

“I was expecting you to call today. I closed up early for lunch, so I’ll be there soon. This has something to do with Kerry, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, sorta. I’ll tell you when you’re here.”

“Well, I am interested. I’ll see you in a few. Goodbye for now, Johnny.”

“‘Bye.”

Johnny hears the signal of the call’s end and sighs as he starts walking, sparing a glance back to his Arch Nazaré parked near a weird fashion ad. Should be fine, but he should get moving. Since V brought him back from the dead again a few months ago, he’s been talking to Misty to try to sort his shit out. Kerry suggested his guru, even offered to pay for it, but Johnny’s really not big on doing yoga. He doesn’t mind watching, though. Anyways, Misty’s been his sort-of therapist/friend, offering her outside perspective to some of the fuckery that is his life. 

Dying twice levelled him out a bit. He and Kerry have only argued once since he’s been back despite him spending all his time in the Villa, but he’s got a lot to work on. V’s helped a lot with the trickier stuff, namely a body, ID, an apartment, vehicle registration, etc. He also managed to erase any evidence of when Johnny and Kerry got wasted at the afterlife in shitty disguises before having to call Delamain to drive their gonk asses back home. Johnny really appreciates the guy, cares about him even, but V is absolutely shit with anything emotional. That and his asking if Johnny’s grown the balls to make a move on Kerry means he’s not going to him for relationship advice. So Johnny’s asking Misty for some help today. 

With all his paperwork and legal bullshit sorted out, he’s got to make a public appearance sometime. It just so happens that Kerry needed a plus one for some red carpet event a week from now. So, obviously, when Kerry asked him to come along, Johnny agreed. Kerry looked a little shocked, he was originally joking since Johnny really hated this stuff before, but he didn’t push it. Kerry and V went to pick out his outfit at Jinguji yesterday, refusing to let Johnny come with them because they “wanted it to be a surprise,” and Johnny just rolled his eyes. As if there’s anything that Kerry could do to surprise him anymore. It doesn’t stop him from imagining. When they got back, V winked at him and told him that 'Zane would help him out tomorrow. Don’t be late'. 

He sneers as he walks through the double doors of the store right on time. While the sterile lighting and minimalistic decor really don’t inspire confidence in Zane’s style, he doesn’t have to trust him; he just has to trust V and Misty. He stands with arms crossed to glare at a basic black display suit while he waits. He hears the metallic swish of the doors and quiet footsteps approach him before a hand presses against the shoulder of his thick leather jacket. Damn, she got here fast. Misty smiles as he turns around.

“Hey, Misty,” he tilts his head in greeting, “good to see you.”

“There’s a pivotal moment approaching in your life, and you’ll need to make a decision to alter the course of your future. That’s why you didn't ask V, right?” 

“Fuck, you’re not beating around the bush today,” he huffs, eyebrows raising, “I mean, yeah, you’re good at the soul stuff, but that’s not why I need help.”

She gives him an incredulous look, and he fills her in on the upcoming event. 

“..you’re going as Kerry’s partner and input. Knowing you, I doubt that means you’ve actually discussed the depth of your feelings with him. This definitely explains why I pulled the Lovers in your weekly reading. It’s just like I was saying earlier, you’re at a crossroads, but I think you already know what path to choose. The choice is yours. Only you know what will bring you true fulfillment.”

Johnny groans, running a hand down his face.

“Misty, I appreciate your psychic gifts and whatever, but I just need your help with the outfit. I’m not allowed to see Kerry’s, but I want to match. V said the desk guy can show you the outfit as long as you don’t tell me any of the details. I'm only allowed to see swatches. Can we just get this over with and leave the emotional readings for the wedding night?” 

“I was right to assume you’ve decided if you’re already thinking about a wedding,” she teases, “Come on, then. Let’s see what they have.” 

Together they approach Zane clicking away behind the front desk. 

“Be with you in just a moment,” He holds up a placating hand in acknowledgement.

“Listen, V sent us. Said you could help me out,” Johnny leans over the desk, bracing himself on his forearms so that his chrome hand falls over the top of the monitor. The clerk’s eyes widen. “It’s a… private matter for the next few days. Come with us to the fitting rooms in the back.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before walking into the restricted area, Misty following close behind. The room is lavish, all the furniture is leather, velvet, or both in large waving shapes, and it’s surprisingly comfortable when he flops down onto an odd donut shaped seat in the center of the room. Misty sits on a chair facing the nearby dressing rooms. All three rooms are empty, doors ajar. Good. Zane rushes into the room with an armful of swatch boards and a rolling cart, closing the door behind him with his hip. He sets down a row of fabric swatches in maroon, black, and sparkling silver fabrics of varying textures on the table next to Misty. Johnny walks over to feel them  He might as well be comfortable if he’s got to get all suited up, so he tells Zane which ones he hates least. Honestly, some of them aren’t half bad. The colors though…

“Is that glittery shit really important? Ah, not you,” he stops Zane from his sales pitch, “Misty? You’re the one that’s got it on holo.”

“I think you could incorporate it into your outfit more subtly.” 

“How the fuck is glitter ever subtle?” 

“Hold on, I’ll show you,” She walks to a nearby cart and pulls out a blazer, running a hand along the red accent stripe bordering the opening in the middle, “What if you had something like this; the blazer could be your regular black with the shimmering stripe and maybe a tie as an accent.”

That’s not the worst idea he’s ever heard. 

“Think I want some of that red for the main color, but keep the accent sparkle, I guess. And the tie,” he turns to Zane who’s taking notes, “have you got different patterns for the maroon?” 

“Oh, yes! Just a second, they’re right… in…” he rifles through the top drawer of the dresser stuffed full of swatch boards, “here! Take a look at these and tell me what you like.”  

Johnny takes the board from him and inspects the patterns carefully. Houndstooth? No. Paisley? Fuck no, only Kerry can pull that shit off. He carefully inspects around 30 other patterns before finally reaching maroon with thin silver pinstripes. He turns the board around, pointing to show Misty for approval. She nods, but the salesman shakes his head in disappointment.

“Pinstripes aren’t in right now; are you sure–”

“Can you get it or not?” Johnny levels a look at Zane.

“Of course, it’s no problem,” he folds immediately, “Excellent choice.” 

“It really is, Johnny,” Misty encourages, “They’re a classic for a reason. A real timeless choice.” 

“That just sounds like you’re calling me old,” he scoffs but quirks a brief smile.

They pick a shape and fit for the blazer, pants, and a waistcoat, and Misty even talks him into picking out a couple accessories and shoes to match. Zane takes his measurements and double checks them before Johnny finally gets to pay a fucking fortune for what will eventually be his outfit. Thanks to V, Zane marks everything to be ready and delivered by a day after tomorrow “free of charge.” He's even making it a gift wrap because he wouldn’t want to spoil their fun. For fucks sake. At least he’s got the accessories to stare at while he waits, carefully wrapped and tucked into a small stiff bag. Johnny waves in thanks to Zane as he and Misty step out onto the sidewalk. They stand by his bike until her ride stops in front of them. Johnny gets the door for her, and she sits down before turning to speak to him. 

“I’m going to give you some advice that I’ve given to V before. Well, actually, you probably heard it, too. I’m not sure. Remember that every minute of every day, we each become someone new. We shouldn't fear change itself, but only who we might change into.” 

Johnny’s grip tightens on the door. 

“You’re changing, and it can be scary. You should take some time to reflect before the big day, practice mindfulness. My only advice for the day of the gala is to be honest with yourself and Kerry. And avoid cool pinks. You’re gonna do great. Trust yourself, and if you can’t do that, trust him. Fate’s really in your favor this time, Johnny.” 

He breathes a sigh as he starts to close the door, pausing a couple inches before it’s shut.

“Thanks, Misty.”

He closes her door, and she rolls down her window a sliver. 

“Any time. Good luck, and let me know how it goes,” she smiles and waves as the car starts to move, “Bye, for now. I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

Johnny gives a loose wave back and turns back to his bike. He hops on before unzipping his jacket, shoving the Jinguji bag inside, and zipping it back up. It pokes into his chest uncomfortably as he rides back towards the villa, but it’s better than just walking in with the little gold bag in hand. It’d ruin the mystery, and none of the contents are interesting enough to be worth risking that.

Hell, Johnny might need to do a little more shopping before he heads back.If Kerry wants a surprise, he’s getting a fucking surprise. 

For reference of Johnny's masterful disguise on their shopping trip:

Chapter Text

By the time Johnny gets back, the sun has begun to set, casting the world in a golden glow. He parks the bike by the Guinevere and his Porsche, wincing slightly as he dismounts and grabs his bags. If he and Kerry were anyone other than the people they are, he would’ve severely overdone it. Good news is they’re the craziest bastards in all NC, so he’s got nothing to worry about. Bad news is he’s got to sneak his stuff into the house and stash it before Kerry notices he’s back. He makes his way through the side door, listening carefully for where Kerry is. Nothing. Maybe he’s in his studio. Johnny quietly goes to the guest room, not bothering to close the door for fear that the noise of the automatic lock would alert Kerry, and he kneels to put the three bags under the bed. 

“Johnny?” Kerry calls from the bottom of the stairs.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Johnny mutters to himself as he starts pushing the bags under the bed. The wobbling sound of the stiff bags is deafening in the otherwise quiet house before he hears Kerry begin to quickly ascend the stairs. Stupid fucking bags won’t just fit under the damn–

“Johnny, you finally back?” Kerry’s made it up the stairs, and he’s rapidly approaching.

“Yeah, just me. Be there in a minute…” He calls over his shoulder as he aggressively shoves at the bags. The largest bag is too tall to fit under the low-rise bed, but Kerry is nearly there. In a moment of “genius” (and pure desperation), Johnny yanks the comforter to hang over the side of the bed just as Kerry steps into the room. He gives Johnny a suspicious look.

“Mind sharing with the class why you’re sneaking around in your own room?” 

“Oh, fuck off, i’m not sneaking. I’m just uhhh...” he scrambles, not looking at Kerry just in case he can see the lie written on his face, “fixing the bed. Yeah, it’s got a bolt or something loose, been creaking when I roll over, but I dropped the allen wrench when I was tightening it. So I’m looking for it.”

“An allen wrench? I haven’t seen one since the 2040s at least. It’s kinda odd that my furniture would have the kind of bolt that needs one considering I bought it not even 5 years ago.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“ I know, that’s why I’ve got to find it. Thing’s practically a relic,” Johnny makes a show of swiping an arm under the bed next to the bags, and Kerry gives a weary sigh. 

“How about I help you look, then?”

He starts to crouch down, but Johnny’s palm shoots out, signaling him to stop.

“NO! I mean, no, that’s not. That’s not necessary. I’ve got everything under control, so you can just go back to whatever you were doin’ before. I’ll be down in a few, alright?” 

Kerry raises an eyebrow before he shrugs and heads back downstairs with a brief glance over his shoulder. He clearly doesn’t believe him, but he’s dropping it. For now. Johnny will need to find a better hiding spot. He takes the bags from under the bed, removing the items and stashing them in the closet, behind the plants, and under the mattress so that if Kerry decides to properly snoop, he won’t find everything at once. He grunts as he stands, causing his tight clothes to rub against the irritated skin of his fresh piercings. You’d think in 2077 they’d have figured out how to heal things faster than the 3 fucking days leading up to the gala. It beats the half a year like it was before, but fucking hell, it’s uncomfortable. He changes into a loose, red synth-cotton shirt and some black sweatpants before he heads downstairs to Kerry. 

They order some shitty takeout and watch a few episodes of some awful TV show on the massive screen in the living room, both of them making fun of the horrifically bad acting and predictable plot. They laugh, have some drinks, and go to bed. The next few days go similarly; they wake up, play music or bicker or do whatever the fuck until it’s around dinner, eat together, hang out, and go to bed. Things are a little different the night before the gala, though. 

They’ve been drinking steadily for a couple hours now, taking turns going off on drunken rambles and telling jokes, but their energy has begun to wane. Johnny’s reclined at an odd angle with his legs propped up on the coffee table, and Kerry’s on his back next to him on the other half of the couch, one leg dangling over the side and the other thrown over the back. They sit in comfortable silence interrupted by faint sounds from the TV. Kerry sits up and stretches.

“Fuuuuck, I’m tired,” Kerry groans, and Johnny cracks open an eye as Kerry stands unsteadily. He takes that as his queue to get up too. 

Johnny grunts as his back pops when he stands up. He’s pretty drunk, the world is gently swimming, but Kerry’s visibly swaying on his feet next to him. He looks ridiculous, like an inflatable tube man, but still ridiculously hot considering he’s just in a tank top and some thin, flowing pants that are tight around the hips and ankles. He mutters to himself as he clumsily starts to remove his shirt, struggling against the tight fabric.

“Why are you taking your clothes off?”

“It's hot, and I’m hot,” he complains, finally managing to get the shirt over his head with a triumphant sound and throwing it on the floor, “Didn’t think you’d give a shit.”

“Didn’t say I did,” his eyes trace the gold lines running down Kerry’s torso, but Kerry’s too distracted to notice, “You goin’ to bed, or are you just gonna stand there all night?”

“Hmmm?” He’s brought back to the present by Johnny’s question, “Yeah, I guess. I try to sleep earlier before big events instead of doing overpriced shots at some shitty club till they throw me out, now. Thought it was a ‘mature thing to do.’ It fucking sucks.” 

“Right, cause you really need that beauty sleep,” he teases, “Alright, I’ll see you in the morning, Sleeping Beauty. I’m goin’ to bed too.” 

Kerry starts to unsteadily walk away.

“G’night, Johnny, I’ll–” Kerry cuts himself off with a swear as he slips on smooth flooring, arms coming out to try to catch his fall.

Johnny sees everything happen in slow motion. The slide of his slippers, the fear in his eyes, his own arms wrapping around him, the relief when Johnny catches him before he hits the ground. Johnny’s chrome arm is wrapped around his waist, holding him flush against him for balance while his other arm shields the back of his head and neck where it runs along his upper back. Kerry’s hands rest on Johnny’s upper arm and chest. They both freeze as they mentally catch up to their bodies, but they make no attempt to move yet.

“You okay, Ker?” 

His lashes flutter slightly as Johnny speaks, and Johnny realizes he doesn’t mind the blue Kiroshis so much after all. A slight flush rises on Kerry’s cheeks, whether from alcohol or something else is hard to tell, but it’s flattering against his freckles and gold cyberware. 

“Yeah, I’m, uh. I’m better now, I think.”

Kerry’s hand on his chest moves down slightly, and he bites his lip as he looks down to Johnny’s. Johnny doesn’t remember Kerry’s lips ever looking so soft before. Sure, they were already pretty fucking nice, but he thinks he would’ve remembered if they were looking like a rose petal or some shit. It’s such a cliche that he really never got until now. They really look so soft, warm and inviting as Kerry shakily inhales. Johnny glances back up to his eyes, and he’s looking back. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. His pupils are big and dark as he slowly blinks and licks his lips, and Johnny feels his fast, warm breaths against his lips as he closes his eyes and leans in. 

He loses traction of the slippery tile, and they both fall to the floor. Luckily for Kerry, Johnny’s arms took a majority of the damage where they were positioned behind his head and along his spine, so he’s not seriously injured, just jostled. Johnny removes his arms from under him and props himself up above him. Kerry is staring at him. Fuck, that was close. Don’t want to die a third time. Or let Ker die the first time. He could’ve lost him all over again just like that, and it’s kind of terrifying. Thank fuck he’s fine, but they’d better play it safe for once in their lives.

“Maybe we should just sleep down here. I don’t think we’re surviving the stairs tonight.”

“Oh,” Kerry blinks rapidly, eyes coming back into focus, “Shit, you’re probably right. Let’s just stick to the couch for now.”

Johnny pushes himself up before offering Kerry a hand to pull him upright too. They both flop down onto the sofa beside each other before they quickly doze off.

~ Several hours later~

Johnny comes into consciousness with a warm, leaden feeling. The light of the mid-day sun shines over his still-closed eyes. He readjusts his hips slightly, feeling stiff from sleeping on the couch, but he’s still too tired to get up. Johnny both hears and feels a quiet grumble against his neck, and his fingers twitch in surprise. Johnny opens his bleary eyes. Kerry is cuddled up to him, head tucked under Johnny’s chin and a leg slung over his own with an arm thrown over his chest. Johnny’s arms are wrapped around him tightly, chrome arm around his mid-section and the other on his head. He gently runs his fingers through his hair, and Kerry gives a pleased hum. Johnny checks that he’s still asleep before he goes back combing through his silver hair with a soft smile. The fancy-ass small-batch conditioner Kerry swears by actually works. His hair was already pretty soft before Johnny’d died, but now, it’s like silk as it slips between his fingers. 

Unbelievable. 

Johnny never could’ve predicted being brought back from the dead not once but twice, but he’s not going to waste his opportunity. He enjoys the moment for as long as he can, luxuriating in the warmth and weight of Kerry’s body on his, but he figures he’d better get up before Kerry wakes up. Johnny slowly slides himself out from under him, taking care to gently move his limbs out of the way, leaving Kerry lying on his side. He shivers, and his brows furrow slightly at the missing body heat. Shit. Johnny quickly grabs a blanket off the corner of the couch and settles it over him with a quiet whoosh. 

Kerry rolls to the other side before he relaxes, brows unfurrowing as a strand of hair slowly falls over his face.  Ah, thank fuck, he’s still asleep. Johnny leans down to brush the hair from his face, but it takes a couple tries since it keeps slipping back down. His shoulders sag in relief when it finally stays in place. Leaned in as close as he is, Johnny can see the freckles and moles across his cheekbones, and he skims his fingertips across them. Moving down, Johnny swipes over his bottom lip, and Kerry’s breath hitches before going back to long, slow breaths. Johnny pets his hair back one last time, pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead before quietly making his way to the door.

He doesn’t see Kerry smile as he leaves the room.

Chapter Text

It’s about half an hour before Johnny hears Kerry enter the kitchen behind him with a yawn. Johnny hands Kerry a coffee while Kerry leans a hip on the counter beside him with a smile. 

“You put a blanket over me. Are we some old married couple now?” 

Johnny chokes a little as he takes a sip, coughing once.

“Yeah, sorta,” he feigns nonchalance, “We’re definitely pretty fuckin’ old, or at least you are. If we’re going by bodies, I’m practically brand new from the dealership.”

“Pfft, sure you are,” Kerry chuckles, “I still think you’re older than me, but seeing as I’m an old man and you’re all young and spry, apparently, you’d better do your best to keep up. Might want to take you for a spin.”

Johnny swigs half his coffee before smirking.

“Don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

Kerry winks at him as he takes a sip of his coffee, and his eyebrows raise at the taste.

“You remembered?”

“Course. Double espresso, nothing else. Unless you’re hungover, and you want triple, one sugar, and a pinch of salt,” Johnny takes another swig, finishing his drink, “This Jamaican stuff sure beats all that motel coffee, that’s for damn sure.” 

Kerry hums in agreement as he sips. Johnny sticks around in companionable silence until he’s done, and they go their own ways. 

The rest of the day leading up to the gala is uneventful, bickering over the base line of a new song and having dinner before it’s time for the tedious process of getting ready. Johnny pulls up his tight maroon pinstripe pants before buttoning and tucking his shirt. He ignores the feeling of it brushing against his still-sensitive skin. The dark, silky material is hard to keep tucked in, but with the military tuck, it shouldn’t be an issue. Then the leather belt. He slips on the matching waistcoat and jacket and flips up his collar to drape the silver, sparkling tie over his shoulders. His hair catches on his chrome as he starts to tie it, so he ties it up into a bun before he finishes the Balthus knot. He’s pretty fucking lucky that he even remembers how to tie one considering how long it’s been. Before the war, maybe.

This is taking an eternity, he’ll be a rotting corpse AGAIN by the time he’s done with all this shit. He continues with an exasperated sigh. He slips on a few chunky rings of mixed gold and silver with small stones set into the bands. A chunky garnet on a thick gold band goes in the place of his usual “burn” ring. When he picked them out, Misty said the garnet was symbolic of their love and vitality or whatever, but he just liked the red. His hands flex, testing the fit of the rings, before he adds a gold watch. He double checks the time in the gleaming red face. He’s fine for now, but he’d better speed it up. He slips on his shoes and shoves a few things into his pockets before heading towards the bathroom.

Music bounces around the walls of the villa loudly enough that Johnny can’t hear where Kerry is, but he assumes he’s getting ready from the fact that he’s blasting some slutty metal that was released before Johnny died the first time. Johnny’s a little impressed he kept the same playlist this long. He dumps the contents of his pockets onto the counter. Just gotta do the finishing touches now. He opens a small box and puts on some small gold hoops, almost identical to Kerry’s save for the thin silver line spiraling through the gold. He inspects himself before he redoes his bun, taking care to smooth down the top and sides better. He swears as he snags a hair in one of his chrome joints again. He’s got to stop doing that. He looks better now, not like he ever has before, really, but still himself and pretty damn hot in his not-so-humble opinion. Something’s missing, though. He opens the hidden drawer built into the counter and takes a look. There’s got to be at least 30 half-used eyeliners dumped in there, and he uncaps one at random.

Johnny leans close to the mirror, brows furrowing in concentration as he pulls his lower lid with his right hand and brings the black pencil closer with his left. He’s struggling to grip the plastic with his chrome, but he doesn’t want to risk getting metal in his eyes. There’s a quiet shuffling noise behind him.

“What’re you doin’?” 

“Fuck!” Johnny jumps slightly in surprise at Kerry’s sudden appearance leaning against the doorway in the mirror, accidentally poking himself in the eye. “Eyeliner. Was trying, at least. These shitty little plastic pencils are my number two enemy now that Smasher’s gone, second only to ‘Saka.”

Kerry giggles but it quickly turns into a cackle when Johnny gives him a deer in the headlights look, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He sees why Misty insisted on all that glittery shit, now. Kerry’s suit is hanging open, a bright, sparkling silver with maroon accents on the shoulders, chest pocket, and inner edge that he’s paired it with a half-buttoned black shirt. He’s mixed the metals of his accessories, too, swapping his leather bracelet for an engraved gold watch. A maroon tie hangs loosely over his shoulders. He’s struggling to stop laughing at Johnny, but he’s slowly reigning himself in. He swaggers up to him, and he plucks the pencil from Johnny to refresh his own eyeliner before turning to face him again. Johnny’s back presses against the counter as Kerry frames him with his arms on either side of him. He takes a minute to admire the open buttons of Kerry’s expensive shirt before looking back into Kerry’s eyes. Johnny’s not sure he’s ever been more alluring than he is in this moment, and that’s saying something. 

“Let me help. You don’t want to poke your eyes out with all the shit you give me about my Kiroshis.”

“Fine,” Johnny huffs, “Don’t poke my eye out. I just got them back.”

“No promises.” 

Kerry holds Johnny’s head still with one hand as he expertly applies the liner. Johnny sits patiently until it’s done, focusing on counting Kerry’s freckles but losing track every time he moves. Kerry inspects his work before declaring it done, but he doesn’t pull back. Johnny’s eyes dart between his eyes and lips before he remembers the untied tie around Kerry’s neck. He feels the material of the large end between his fingertips. 

“Your turn.” 

He carefully buttons up the top three buttons of the shirt and pops the collar, tying the tie around his neck and tightening it before leaning back to look. It’s slightly uneven. He tightens the fabric slightly and tugs, pulling Kerry even closer. He radiates heat against him, but Johnny pretends to ignore it. He fixes the knot and smooths down the fabric, neatly tucking it beneath the blazer. He looks up to find Kerry looking at him intently. His eyes glance down to his lips again, and Kerry gives a barely noticeable nod. He leans in.

DING-DING-DING. 

They both groan in frustration at the sound of the doorbell. V must be here to get them. Johnny wanted to take the Porsche originally, but he’s not about to trust the valets to not fuck with his ride. V’s driving is only a step above Kerry’s, but Johnny doesn’t have much choice. So V is going to act as a driver on the way. He might stick around for security purposes after, but he’s keeping his distance until they sort their shit out, both mentally and physically. Johnny will drive them back himself. They pull away from each other to get to the door, Johnny lagging behind to grab a couple small boxes off the counter and shove it in his pocket. V is in a suspiciously chipper mood, but the two rockers are so busy stealing glances that they hardly notice. They all head out to the Porsche. Johnny opens Kerry’s door for him in a surprisingly gentleman-ly fashion before getting into the back after him. V slips into the driver’s seat, and they’re off on the short drive. The back seats are cramped on their long legs, and Johnny and Kerry’s thighs press together in the small space. The warm silky materials sliding against his leg are distracting, and he can’t help but stare for a moment before he turns to him.

“How’s this gonna go?”

“Uh, shit, let’s see,” Kerry scratches his head, “When we get there, there’s the carpet, an interview, and dinner. After that’s all over, there’s the awards and shit, and we–”

“No, I mean us. How do you want me?”

Kerry freezes for a second as he takes a shaky breath, taking a minute to inspect Johnny before leaning in.

“I think you could…”

“For fuck’s sake,” V interjects, “You too are such fucking gonks, didn’t even bother trying to come up with a plan. Just do what comes naturally, and Johnny, don’t be a dick.” 

Johnny huffs in annoyance, but he doesn’t protest. 

“Good. Now that that’s settled, we’re here. Get out before the vultures start swarming more than they already are. And remember, if you need me for anything, just call. You know I’ll be there.” V gives them a wink and a smirk unsettlingly similar to Johnny’s own. Kerry and Johnny exchange a look full of amusement and a little apprehension, nod, and open the door to the blinding camera lights. 

Chapter Text

Johnny leans down to give Kerry a hand as he gets out and closes the door behind him. Kerry threads their fingers together. Johnny’s hand twitches in surprise, and Kerry chuckles as he leads them down the red carpet, smiling and waving. The flashes and clicks of the cameras are disorienting. Kerry seems unphased, probably used to it by now, but Johnny fights the urge to delta. The brightness and cacophony briefly take him back to the fronts. The flashing. The screaming. The way it can steal your life from you is about the same. Kerry gives his hand a squeeze before wrapping an arm around his elbow with a reassuring smile. He’s here with Kerry. They’re fine. Maybe even good. Johnny’s heart flutters, and his lips curl up in his signature smirk. 

“Careful, Ker,” he leans to speak into Kerry’s ear, “Someone’ll think you really want me.”

“Says the guy who got a custom suit just to match mine,” Kerry appraises him with an amused look, “It looks good, though. You look...” 

“Hot? You too, but you’re missing something,” Johnny quickly pulls him behind a tall bush and out of sight.

“What–”

He pulls down the collar of Kerry’s shirt and sucks a large dark hickey before letting go with a satisfied grin. Kerry exhales shakily.

“For authenticity,” Johnny explains with a shrug, “C’mon, let’s get this over with.” 

Johnny leads him back out, and Kerry shakes his head with an exasperated smile. Right before they’re visible to the paparazzi again, Kerry gives him a retaliatory slap on the ass before threading their arms together again with a sweet, smug look. Johnny grunts in surprise. They’re both fucked in the head, but that’s probably why they work.

They make their way to the interview station at the end of the carpet and take a seat on the small sofa. He settles in his usual sprawl, an arm slung around Kerry’s back, but he keeps shifting around. Kerry leans against him. 

“Why’re you squirming like that? Did you do something I should know about before we’re on live television?”

“Besides ‘saka? Nah, nothing to worry about. I’ll show you later.”

They pretend to pay attention as an intern explains how it’ll go. The interview will be 15 minutes at most. Afterwards, they have about half an hour to mingle before they’re expected in the dining hall. Kerry says they haven’t got any questions, and the intern wanders off to the side of the set to alert the interviewer. When he walks in, extending a hand and a smile that goes unreciprocated. Kerry tenses up, and Johnny’s hand tightens on his waist. Of fucking course it’s him. 

“Jim, I’d say it’s good to see you again, but I’d be lying.” 

The reporter’s smile falters slightly, and he retracts his hand, wiping his sweat on his wrinkled pants.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe we’ve met before, Mr. Silverhand.”

“Bullshit! There’s no fucking way you don’t remember–”

Kerry leans further into Johnny to mutter a warning.

“Drop it, Johnny. Let’s just get this over with and move on. Please.” 

Johnny drops it, but he continues glaring. Damnit, why’d he have to say please. He’d told this guy to stay away back before he died the first time, and he’s not thrilled that the cockroach of a man is still kicking. He looks about the same as last time he saw him, same crumpled suit and everything, but he’s wearing a cool pink tie instead of the old red one. Johnny considers Misty’s advice, but there’s not much he can do. Pulling some stunt would be bad for Kerry’s rep, not his, so just this once he’ll drop it for him. For the most part, the interview is normal if not overly invasive, but Jim is behaving. The first five minutes are excruciatingly boring, but essentially uneventful. Until it isn’t.

“Now, tell me, K– Mr. Eurodyne, don’t you worry that, especially with Silverhand back, your time in the spotlight is coming to a close? I mean, you haven’t contributed anything significant since–”

Johnny feels Kerry flinch against him. He’s not dropping it anymore.

“You’d better watch your useless fucking mouth before I smack it off your face,” Johnny stands up, his arm around Kerry’s waist drags him with him, “If you speak to my boyfriend like that again, not even your platinum trauma team package will be able to scrape you up and put you back together. This interview is over. C’mon, Ker, let’s go.” 

Johnny doesn’t wait for a response as he pulls Kerry into the building, not stopping until they’re alone in a small, dark room. It looks like a coat closet from the racks of clothes along the walls. Johnny closes the door and turns to Kerry. Kerry is shaking almost imperceptibly, a little shell-shocked from the speed of the interaction. 

“You okay?”

Kerry doesn’t look at him. 

“Ker?”

He shakes his head, and Johnny pulls him against his chest in a tight hug. He rubs a hand along his back while he rests his head on Kerry’s, taking a deep breath. Fuck, he smells great, like a mix of sandalwood, smoke, and something uniquely Kerry. A little hint of coconut from the styling product in his hair. Eventually, Kerry relaxes, and he pulls back a little. Johnny doesn’t let him out of his arms, but he’s not really trying to leave. He raises a hand to his cheek, and Kerry’s eyes flutter closed while he leans into the cold metal of Johnny’s palm. He swallows hard as he opens his eyes and speaks with a hoarse voice.

“Kiss me.”

Johnny slowly leans down just in case Kerry comes to his senses before connecting their lips in a deep, languid kiss. Their lips glide against each other, soft and wet, and Kerry parts his lips slightly to allow Johnny’s tongue to slip inside. Johnny can taste their shared breaths as he slowly slides his hand into Kerry’s hair, and Kerry moans into his mouth. They continue until they’re out of breath. By the time they pull back for air, Johnny’s heart is pounding, and warmth blossoms in his chest as Kerry looks up at him. 

“You’re blushing,” Kerry teases as he cracks a smile.

“Shut up. No, I’m not,” he blushes harder when Kerry rubs circles on his hip, “It’s your fucking fault for being so…”

He slowly looks Kerry up and down.

“So what?”

“Delectable,” he pulls Kerry’s bottom lip with his teeth.

Johnny sinks to his knees, his back brushing against the hanging coats, and looks up at Kerry with pleading eyes.

“Johnny…” Kerry’s knuckles clench and unclench. Johnny smirks.

“Kerry?”

“They’re gonna come looking for us any minute; we don’t have time right now.”

“Awww, come on, Ker,” he slides his hands up Kerry’s thighs, “I know you want to…”

Kerry looks upwards in the hopes that someone will lend him strength to actually wait. 

“It’s not about how much I want to, we don’t have time. Someone’ll walk in. What’s got you so worked up already?”

“I–”

Knock, knock, knock.

“Mr. Eurodyne, Mr. Silverhand, you’re requested back at the interview station, please. We’ve changed staff due to the… conflict of interest. Please accept our sincerest apologies for the ill behavior of the previous reporter.”

Kerry pulls Johnny into standing, gazes meeting in a challenge. Kerry gives him a short, crushing kiss before pulling back. Johnny feels the rumble of his chest as he murmurs against his lips.

“Wait. I’ll make sure it’s worth it.” 

Kerry releases him and steps back just as the staff member opens the door.

“Yes, sorry…” He checks their nametag, “Chris, we’ll be headed back. ‘Mr. Silverhand’ will be answering the rest of the questions, though. Better warn your stand-in.”

Johnny crosses his arms and gives Kerry a frown that he returns with a downright sadistic smile. Fuck, he hates interviews.

Chapter Text

Johnny catches Kerry’s arm as he starts to follow Chris out of the room.

“Hold on just a second. I’ve got something that’ll make things a little more interesting,” he pulls a small box out of his jacket pocket and places it in Kerry’s hand, “open it.” 

Kerry looks skeptical, but when he opens the box, his eyes widen. It’s a remote. 

“You’re insane.”

“Yeah, and you’re not?”

“Touché. Are you sure you want to do this? Pretty fuckin’ ballsy to do it live, even for you.”

“Sure, but it beats a normal interview. Actually, I was planning to wait until dinner, but after that shitshow, I thought I’d break it out early. A little trick to keep things interesting,” he gestures vaguely, “You can show me how much you like my answers. Keep me in check or whatever.” 

Kerry hums thoughtfully. 

“Eh, what the hell, why not. We’ve done crazier. This seems like a decent enough compromise by your standards, but I’m not saying a word. It’s all up to you. If you need a break, give me two taps. No cumming on international television tonight.”

“You’re no fun,” Johnny elbows him gently before grabbing his hand to lead him back to the interview station, “Joking. They don’t pay you near enough to get that kind of exclusive.”

Kerry elbows him back but chuckles in agreement as they sit down on the couch. He stealthily tucks the remote into his pocket. 

The new interviewer is already in their seat across from them, and the tag on her shirt marks her name as Iris in neat cursive. She seems nice enough. Despite her line of work, she has a genuine air about her that reminds Johnny a little of Misty. It makes him a little wary of her questions, but it’s not like he’d back out now. He’s curious. He wraps an arm around Kerry, crossing one leg over the other to try to calm his bouncing, but it doesn’t help. Kerry places a hand over his thigh. He stills, and the second interview begins. 

Johnny somewhat listens as Iris goes on her agonizingly long introduction before turning to address him. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet with you Mr. Silverhand. Or can I call you Johnny?”

“It depends,” he raises his eyebrows, “Are you going to be less of an asshole than dear old Jim?”

“I’ll certainly try my best.”

“Then, sure. Call me Johnny.”

“Thank you, Johnny. Now let’s get started.” 

She checks her notes and sighs.

“Let’s just start by addressing the elephant in the room, here. Where have you been all these years? Surely you haven’t been hiding in Mr. Eurodyne’s villa these… fifty-four years since your last appearance. What have you been doing all this time?”

Johnny’s jaw quirks slightly as he thinks. He’s not about to lie exactly, but he’d better tread carefully. Iris is looking at him expectantly.

“I…” 

How does he even start to describe everything that happened? He scratches his jaw.

“I was taking some time alone. Reflecting.” 

Iris’s brows raise in interest.

“Do you think it helped? Any revelations over that time that you’d like to share?” 

“Shit, I mean, being alone that long with nothing else to do but think, I didn’t have much of a choice but to figure some stuff out, did I?” His thumb rubs Kerry’s waist through his jacket. “I realized what a massive dick I was, and not just in the literal sense.” 

“You can say that again,” Kerry huffs in a slightly bitter kind of amusement.

“Yeah, I know. I treated you, and everyone else really, like absolute dogshit. Pretty much everyone I’ve ever loved hated my guts at some point or another, some still do, and I deserved it. None of them deserved to be treated like that,” he turns his head to face him, “You didn’t deserve that. I started realizing that towards the end back then, too, but I was too caught up in my own bullshit to fix it.”

 Kerry seems genuinely caught off guard, but Iris interrupts before Johnny can continue. 

“That phrase you used, ‘the end back then,’ what do you mean by that? As I’m sure you’ve heard, there have been plenty of rumors over the years thanks to some of your public interactions, especially flirting on-stage.” 

She pauses as the news screen presents several photos and clips as examples. Johnny palming him behind his guitar, a kiss with too much tongue to be casual at some seedy bar, Johnny on his knees licking a mic in Kerry’s hand, Kerry running his tongue up the neck of Johnny’s guitar. It would  theoretically be pretty damning evidence, but they’re them.

“There’s been speculation as to how much of it was truly a performance. Would you care to shed some light onto your side of the story?”

Johnny looks to Kerry who gives him a nod to go ahead. Johnny explains a bit how they first met. 

“It’s weird, y’know, as soon as I met him, I just kind of knew.”

“Knew what?” Iris sits up a little straighter.

“Fucking hell, I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete gonk. Look, I don’t believe in soulmates or love at first sight or any of that mass-media rom-com scop; it’s all just a huge marketing gimmick to get you to buy into all the latest sales and trends or whatever. I just don’t think it’s a thing. But when I first met Kerry, I kind of got it. Not like that fluttery magical bullshit they tell you about where they just know they’ll live happily-ever-after with two and a half kids and a white picket fence, though. It was… comfortable. Natural. Fit together like a pair of gloves. It was so easy it was like we’d known each other for years. I didn’t know how far we’d go, but the moment he turned to look at me, I knew we’d make some great music together.” 

Kerry hums in agreement, and he gives Johnny’s thigh an encouraging squeeze. 

“Incredible that you could tell just like that. What does that mean for the rumors about you two’s past relationship?”

Kerry shrugs at Johnny’s raised eyebrow.

“I’m not telling you all the details, but it was complicated. We weren’t exclusive or anything, but we spent most of our free time together and messed around some, especially in the beginning. I had some… personal issues to sort out towards the end of the band. The people I dated got treated even shittier than the ones I didn’t, and it was just an all-around shit show. Kerry and I argued more cause he wouldn’t let me be as much of an ass as I wanted to be all the time. I was self-destructing, and anyone close would’ve been caught up in the fallout. So I left before I could hurt them worse than I already did. I didn’t want anyone else I gave a shit about to die because of me. The rest could go fuck themselves, but I just couldn’t let it happen again.”

Kerry shifts in his seat. Johnny’s never really told him this, or anyone other than V, actually, but that barely counts. He didn’t have much choice when they shared a brain. He does now.

“When I left, I didn’t know if I could really go through with it, but when the chopper landed it was already too late. I almost went back when you ran out after me, but I just couldn’t. I think you knew, too. That’s why I told you to go your own way. When you said you’d miss me, leaving was…” Johnny runs a hand down his face with a sigh, “It was hard. Really fucking hard. So I decided I’d make damn sure I’d come back to see you in the next life. I didn’t mean it literally at the time, but I did it anyway. I can see you now, really see you this time around.”

He pulls Kerry to lean more against his side with a grin. Everyone else, including Kerry is staring at him like he grew an extra head. 

“What? Why are you–” Johnny looks around, “Why the fuck is everyone looking at me like that? Have I got something on me?”

Kerry chuckles.

“No, but you’re about to,” Johnny’s eyebrows raise as Kerry pulls him in by the back of the neck, “C’mere already.” 

Johnny's heart skips when Kerry connects their lips. He feels him smile against him, and he can’t keep from laughing into Kerry’s mouth as he’s practically smothered in the kiss. It’s fucking incredible. Something about this kiss knocks the air from his lungs, that warm feeling in his chest is stronger than he’d felt during their hookups before. Or maybe it’s just been so long that he couldn’t remember how great he feels against him. They seemingly forget they have an audience until Kerry’s hand on his thigh starts to slide inward, and Iris gives a polite cough. Kerry has the politeness to look slightly sheepish, though not apologetic, as he pulls back. 

Johnny's face shows his displeasure at the interruption. Kerry gives Johnny a sweet smile back, but he’s got a mischievous gleam in his eyes. A shiver runs up his spine in anticipation, quickly followed by a jolt of pleasure as Kerry turns the vibration on full power. His eyes widen behind his sunglasses as he gives Kerry a look, smug bastard is smiling wider now, before he crosses a leg and resumes a decent poker face. Every expletive he can think of bounces around his brain.

“Wow, Johnny, I didn’t know you were such a romantic!”

“Neither did I,” Kerry muses, “Asshole never got around to saying any of that before. Maybe he’s getting to be a sap in our old age.”

“I’m not a sa–ap,” the word is interrupted by a warning pulse in the vibration before it’s powered off, “and I’m not that much older than you. Speak for yourself.”

Iris inserts herself back into the conversation.

“Regardless of age, it was very sweet. We’ve only got a little over a minute left, so I’ll pick something quick and easy for your final question,” she skims her notes before landing on something, “Why are you always wearing your sunglasses, even indoors or at night? It obviously isn’t the most pressing question, but you’ve given us so much already. Do you have some kind of.. condition?”

“Condition? Fuck no, I haven’t got anything wrong with my eyes other than some moderately shitty eyesight made a little shittier by all the flash grenades and stage lights. These are prescription lenses,” he removes his glasses and pulls out another pair without the tint, clumsily putting them on with one hand “I don’t like contacts anymore cause it’s hard to get ‘em in and out with the chrome, but I’d look like an idiot going onstage in these. So I got some sunglasses. They’re as much a staple of my look as any of the rest of me, I guess, but it’s just for practicality.”

Kerry snorts.

“Practical would be getting some Kiroshi’s like the rest of us, but okay.”

“I already told you,” Johnny groans, “I’m not letting them take my eyes. Shit’s freaky.” 

Iris looks amused and a little perturbed. The intern from earlier signals that time is almost up. 

“Well, gentleman, it was an absolute pleasure to meet you both and to get to hear your story. I hope we’ll have the opportunity to talk again in the future.”

She extends a hand, and they stand up to take turns shaking it as they exchange goodbyes.

As they make their way out of the interview area, they’re ushered into the dining hall to a table. The hall is full of tables draped in bright white cloth and illuminated by candles scattered across every available surface. Most of the other celebrities are seated, but there are a few still trickling in here and there. They’ve given Johnny and Kerry a private booth with a large round table in the corner, whether from Kerry’s fame or Johnny’s infamy is impossible to say, but they aren’t complaining. The red leather booth is a lot more comfortable than the shitty folding chairs at the other tables. Kerry sits in the center of the booth, Johnny sliding up next to him, as a waiter approaches with a bottle of champagne on ice. He places it on the table.

“Please accept this as an apology and token of peace on behalf of Night City Today,” He grabs two flutes off of a nearby cart, pouring a generous amount in each glass, “Dinner will be served shortly, your orders as indicated on the rsvp will be delivered to your seat, and the awards will commence at approximately 9:00 P.M. Enjoy and let me know if you need anything.”

Kerry thanks him. Johnny checks his watch, and they’ve got a little over an hour before the ceremony. He smirks. Nice, he’s got just enough time…

Chapter Text

Johnny looks around the room to make sure no one else is watching as he slides off the leather bench and onto the floor. There’s a soft clink of plates being placed on nearby tables. He shuffles until his knees hit the wood behind Kerry’s dress shoes, and Kerry jolts, lifting up the tablecloth to look down at him incredulously.

“The fuck are you doing?” he hisses, “the waiters are starting to bring out the food now, get back up here.”

“C’mon–”

“Now.” Kerry growls.

A shiver runs up Johnny’s spine at his tone. He opts to “behave” for a little longer, so he slips back onto the seat beside him after the waiter delivers their salads. He frowns.

“Do I have to eat all this? It doesn’t even have croutons.” 

“You know what? You do. Here’s an idea for you. Since you’ve got to have something in your mouth,” he turns the vibration on medium, “you’ll keep that on the whole meal. Minimum through the dinner, if you’re good, I might let you have me for dessert instead. We’ll see.”

“But–” Johnny squirms, but Kerry just hands him the salad fork. 

“You’d better get eating.” Kerry takes an obnoxiously large bite of his own salad to make a point, “And tell me if you’re close. If you get off before you I tell you, you’re waiting till we get home.”

Johnny shifts in his seat, shooting Kerry a pathetic, annoyed look, and spears some lettuce on his fork. The salad is actually pretty decent considering he doesn’t like salad and plants haven’t been widely available since before he died. So it’s tolerable, but not great. The vibrations of the plug inside him, not quite touching his prostate, are starting to drive him crazy already. He concentrates on relaxing his hand on the fork and takes a deep breath. He’s not sure he’ll actually last ‘till dinner’s over. Kerry seems unbothered if not entertained by watching Johnny squirm. He finishes his salad quickly and leans back to watch him. Hard to say if he’s feeling extra hungry, sadistic, or both. When Kerry licks his lips, looking him up and down, Johnny thinks both.

Johnny finishes his salad just as dinner is placed on the table, and Johnny is relieved to see that it’s in a relatively small serving size. Filet mignon garnished with rosemary, roasted julienne vegetables, and mashed potatoes with gravy for him, and some sort of fish with lime and the same sides for Kerry. Johnny picks up what he’s 33% sure is the correct fork to start eating, but the waiter is still hovering.

“Sir?”

Kerry increases the vibration, and Johnny’s leg thumps against the table. He grunts.

“Yeah, what? Need something?”

The man hands him a small dessert menu. Tiramisu, pumpkin creme brulee, or hazelnut cake with chocolate frosting. Johnny’s hand clenches the fork tightly, bending the metal in his chrome hand. Kerry snickers.

“All sounds good,” Johnny nods vaguely, “surprise me.” 

“Tiramisu for me. If you’ve got an extra creme brulee, we’ll take it to go, though.”

“Got it. It’ll be right out.” 

“Thanks.”

The waiter leaves.

Fucking finally. Johnny groans and drops his head on the table with a thunk, narrowly avoiding landing in his meal. Kerry slides him another fork to replace his severely bent one. How merciful. Johnny rolls his eyes as he sits up to eat. Kerry is waiting for him to take a bite to start eating himself, so Johnny stabs his fork into the steak. He lifts it, considering biting it as is, but he puts it back down with a sigh when Kerry shoots him a look. The vibe changes patterns. His thighs twitch in restraint to appear calm as he picks up his knife to cut the steak. When he saws through the meat, it’s a bloody medium rare, just like he likes it. He gives Kerry a grateful nod, and Kerry smiles and nods back. 

His hand shakes slightly as he brings the first bite to his mouth. He debates switching to his chrome arm, but he ignores it out of spite. Kerry finds the second button on the remote as the steak hits his tongue, and Johnny moans. Hopefully the guests will assume it’s just the food. The toy slowly thrusts in him, still vibrating. When it presses into his prostate, he nearly chokes. He swallows thickly, breathing heavily as his free hand finds a death grip on the leather seat. Kerry delicately cuts up his food and takes small, reserved bites. He feigns indifference to Johnny’s squirming, but Johnny can feel him watching him. He stabs a few bites of steak onto the fork and shoves them into his mouth with more force than necessary, struggling a little to chew, and Kerry chuckles lowly. Johnny feels himself twitch in his pants. A flush spreads up his chest. As Johnny swallows his bite, Kerry leans till he’s almost behind him, the fabrics of their expensive suits swishing quietly as he moves. He can feel the low rumble of his voice as he speaks.

“You feeling okay, Johnny? You look a little flushed,” he teases, hand sliding up Johnny’s thigh towards his crotch. Johnny breath shudders, and he shoves another bite in his mouth to shut himself up. “Oh, I see, you’re behaving, You’re so good at it, too. Maybe your good behavior needs a reward..”

His fingers skate up Johnny’s fly to unhook his belt, and Johnny’s knee jerks. He swallows his bite with a slight cough.

  “Better stop. It’s– fuck–” his zipper slides down, cold air raising goosebumps when it hits his skins, “It’s getting close to dessert, don’t you think?” 

He feels Kerry smile against the side of his face as he pulls his cock from his pants. He holds the base in a firm grip.

“Oh, I don’t know… I think it could be another 15 minutes. Have you changed your mind? Need me to call the waiter for you?”

“Fuck no, you know what I mean you–” Kerry gives a warning squeeze, and Johnny takes a deep shuddering breath, swearing about missed signals, “If you don’t want me ruining this tablecloth, you’d better give me a break.” 

“Oh no, don’t mind me, I’m just getting used to it again. Believe it or not, it’s been a while since I’ve seen your cock. The ladder’s a nice touch…” Kerry hums thoughtfully as he gives him a long, slow stroke.

“Ker–” Johnny warns through a clenched jaw, heel tapping the floor, “You’ve got to stop. Now.”

Kerry’s pauses immediately.

“Color?” 

“Green– fuck– very green, just,” he sucks air through his teeth, “turn off the toy for a couple minutes or I’ll have gone along with this nonsense for nothing.” 

Johnny sags in relief and disappointment when Kerry turns the toy off, vibration and thrusting abruptly halting. Kerry rubs his back comfortingly as he takes a few ragged breaths. A couple waiters filter in from the front of the room delicately balancing trays of small plates and bowls. Dessert, assumedly. His heart is beating double time in his chest, but Kerry is still infuriatingly put together. That’s enough. Johnny pulls him closer by the collar.

“I’ve been waiting all goddamn night to find out if you taste as disgustingly good as you look in that suit. If I wait any longer, I’m dying a third time, and you’ll have to live on knowing it was your fault for being such a fucking tease.” 

Kerry smirks.

“As if you don’t live for it,” Kerry holds his chin between his thumb and pointer,” If you really want me to stop teasing, do something about it. I dare ya.”

Kerry barely brushes his lips against Johnny before pushing him away by the hand on his chin. Johnny’s eyes flash dangerously. This ought to be fun. Johnny downs a champagne flute in one swig, putting the glass on the table before he lunges over for a brief, crushing kiss. He immediately stalks off in the general direction of the kitchen. It’s a little worrying, but Kerry figures it’s fine since there’s no screaming. Johnny comes back just a couple minutes later and drags him out of the booth.

“Come on,” he starts walking quickly, pulling Kerry by the hand towards the kitchen.

“What– Where are we going?”

“Back to yours.”

“We can’t just up and leave,” Kerry gawks, halting mid-step. His arm jerks slightly as Johnny is pulled to a stop with him. “I’ve gotta be here for the awards, Johnny.”

Johnny sighs, rubbing his brow with his free hand.

“Do you actually give a shit about this thing, or are you just being a brat about it cause you somehow forgot I’ve got a pair?”

There’s quiet, save for the muffled voices of the people in the adjacent room. Johnny scoffs.

“That’s what I thought. They’ll deliver all the ugly plaques or whatever to the villa, anyways. Quit worryin’ about it,” his chrome hand slides under his unbuttoned jacket to Kerry’s lower back, leading him towards the exit, “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

Kerry sighs, shaking his head.

“Fine, okay. Let’s go.” 

They manage to go through the kitchen without any major issues. Everyone is too busy to give a shit about the two of them sneaking out, and they don’t get paid enough to care regardless. Johnny seems to think there will be less paparazzi out the back, but Kerry doubts it. They’ll be lucky if Johnny can call up the Porsche without running someone over. Kerry is proven right when they open the door to the back alley. 

Cameras flash blindingly, and Kerry winces slightly. The kiroshis have more issues with bright lights than his regular eyes. Something to do with the lenses needing to adjust or whatever. Johnny puts his sunglasses on him and pulls him a little closer while they walk towards the street. He calls the Porsche. His thumb rubs gently against Kerry’s back, and Kerry feels warmth pool in his gut at the gesture. The jerk can be pretty sweet when he wants to be, and he’s apparently going for some sort of personal record tonight. It’s appreciated. 

The reporters crowd them, shouting questions at them as Johnny carves a path to the car. Why are they leaving? Did something happen? How long have they been together? Blah, blah, blah. Johnny opens the passenger door for Kerry to climb in when a reporter manages to close in on him, camera-man close behind.

“Mr. Silverhand, wait, please. I’m Ronan with NCNN. I’m sure you saw the screamsheets about you and Kerry at Members Only way back when, but no one’s gotten your statement. Will you comment on your involvement?” he shoves a mic out towards him. 

Johnny pauses by the driver’s side, a hand holding the door ajar. He raises an eyebrow and directs Kerry’s attention to the reporter with a nod. 

“I’ll bite. What’ve you got?”

“My sources tell me that approximately 57 years ago, you two got drunk and stoned at a drag night at Members Only bar. Before you left the bar, you had a very public foursome with two performers, Rox Star and Miss D’Meaner, during which you poured tequila over yourself and lit your penis on fire while receiving oral sex. The building burned down less than an hour later with the fire department claiming the flames originated in your boot. The club was rebuilt in less than a week thanks to funding from a generous, anonymous investor. Assumedly one of you. Is there any truth to the claims?” 

Johnny climbs into the car, closing the door before rolling down Kerry’s window. He smirks wickedly as he leans over him to speak to Ronan. 

“Ask Kerry about the scar on his mustache, not the lip. He’s better at sharing.” 

Kerry winks at the reporter, and the man barely manages to start forming his sentence when the car peels out of the parking lot. Kerry waves back from the passenger side with a delighted cackle before leaning back in his seat. Johnny can’t hide a faint smile as they speed back to the villa, expertly weaving in and out of traffic. Kerry's hand rubs Johnny’s thigh as he drives, and his jaw clenches in restraint. When they get up the winding road to North Oak, they fly through the metal gates so fast the security system doesn’t get a chance to scan them. The security bots go on alert. Tonight is about to get even more interesting. 

Chapter Text

When Johnny throws the car in park, he surveys the bots before telling Kerry to stay where he is. He slowly circles the car to open the door, and Kerry snorts. Of course Johnny had to act like they’re in some spy movie with imminent threat to his life just to keep him from getting his own door, the dramatic bastard. No surprises there. When Kerry gets out and closes the door, he doesn’t get the chance to turn around before Johnny is pressing him against the car, his erection pressing against him. His tattooed hand holds Kerry in place by the hip.

“How much do you care about those hunks of metal?” Johnny sucks at his neck, “I’m not waiting for the security to go off to fuck you.”

“Hmm– What?”

Johnny pulls his Malorian from inside his jacket with his chrome hand, the other arm pulling Kerry even closer against him. A knee pushes Kerry’s legs apart as Johnny bends slightly to look over his shoulder, and he raises an arm to take aim at the nearest bot. His beard scratches against the side of Kerry’s jaw as he murmurs to him. Kerry shivers.

“What do you say, sweetheart? Should I zero them, or should I bend you over and rail you on the hood of my car?” Johnny hums and smirks against him when Kerry leans his head back against him. “Slow and easy, or fast and crazy, I’ll fuck you however you like. Tell me what you want me to do to you.” 

Kerry’s breath hitches.

“Shit, you drive me so crazy it’s not fair. Shoot it and go already.”

A shot rings out as Johnny decapitates the robot, sparks fly wildly from the broken machine. They can use the car on a different day. He wastes no time pulling Kerry inside and shoving him against the nearest wall, but Kerry places a hand on his chest to get him back off. Johnny grumbles. He checks him out before catching up to him. They stumble up the stairs to the bedroom, clutching at each other’s clothes in desperation as Kerry leads Johnny back towards the bed. He shoves him down with a hand to his chest. 

“Stay.”

Kerry lets his silk jacket slide to the floor, and he starts to loosen his tie when Johnny yanks it. Kerry falls on the bed, arms bracketing his sides. His nostrils flare as he exhales and finishes taking off the tie without comment. 

“Scoot back.” 

Johnny obeys with a smirk as Kerry crawls up towards him, still clothed, but he doesn’t acknowledge Johnny. He reveals metal rings hidden in the paneling of the bed. 

“Arms.” 

“No,” Johnny frowns, “I’ve got to touch you.”

“Is that a boundary or just something you want?”

He considers it. 

“Fine, I guess,” he huffs as he holds out his arms, and Kerry ties his wrists against the center ring.

“Okay? Not too tight?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, I’m fine. Quit fussing and get going already, damn.”

Kerry stands to methodically take off his clothes; he lets Johnny’s comment slide since he’s just as desperate. First the shirt, then the belt, the pants, and the socks. Johnny’s hands twitch above him as more and more of Kerry’s gold cyberware is revealed to him. He’s dying to run his hands over him. 

“It’s been over half a century. I thought that I could still remember your body like it was yesterday, but..” Johnny gets distracted as Kerry climbs onto his lap, still in his underwear and chains. Kerry undoes the tie when he sees him straining, placing Johnny’s hands on his hips, and gives him a short, slow kiss. His eyeliner brings out the gold rims of his Kiroshis when his eyes slowly open.

“But what?”

Johnny rests his forehead on Kerry’s collarbone, and Kerry’s hand automatically comes up to pet his hair.

“But it’s different. You’re different. It’s, uh,” Johnny fumbles for words, “It’s better like this. You’re more incredible here in my arms than you ever were in any of my wildest fantasies. And those fantasies, I mean, there were a lot. I just never–”

Kerry uses the hand in his hair to encourage Johnny to look at him, but his brow creases when he sees Johnny’s slightly teary eyes. He strokes his hair soothingly while his other hand cups his face.

“It’s alright. Tell me.” His thumb strokes Johnny’s cheek. 

“Ugh, fuck, I didn’t want to get into this now, I just,” Johnny blinks to clear vision, “I never thought you’d have me again. After all the shit I put you through. Then I went and died twice, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, how badly I fucked everything up. I don’t know why you’re putting up with me when I don’t deserve it.”

“And that matters to you now?”

“Yeah, a little.” 

A lot actually. He doesn’t want pity or some occasional fling, he wants to… fuck, he’s not sure what it is he wants other than him. All of him. 

Kerry hums.

“Maybe you don’t deserve it. But that was fifty-four years ago. You were fucking awful for years, sure, but you know what you did when you came back? You came back to me, you crazy son of a bitch. Didn’t even have your own body, broke into my house–”

“Like it was hard, your security is shit–”

“–played your way back into my life on my own fucking guitar. But I’m not the only one that’s different, you’ve changed a hell of a lot, too. You got V to let you do a gig with me, for me even. Hell, when you thought you were dying again you gave me your axe, that thing’s like your soul. I might be stupid and naive and deserving of every bad thing that I’m sure any sane person would warn me about, but I’m giving you another chance. Just one more. Don’t fuck it up.”

Johnny swallows.

“I won’t.”

“Good,” Kerry smiles as he gives him a quick kiss, “Now, let’s go back to getting you naked, yeah?”

He takes off Johnny’s pants while Johnny undoes his tie and struggles with the buttons of his shirt. He’s on the bottom three by the time Kerry gets the pants and shoes off fully, and he climbs back onto his lap to help him. As he slides the sleeves off his arms, Kerry’s gaze catches on his chest, eyes widening, and he swears under his breath. Those are definitely new. Johnny grins with satisfaction.

“You like ‘em? Knew you would.”

They meet halfway for a filthy kiss. Johnny’s hands move Kerry’s hips, grinding their cocks against each other. That’s different, too. He slips his hand into Kerry’s underwear to wrap around the base of his cock, and he’s surprised when he’s met by warm skin instead of plastic. No strap, good for him. Wait. He slides his fingers back until they find his folds, dipping his fingers in the wetness but not penetrating, and Kerry hums into his mouth. Johnny looks at Kerry’s new cock as he brings free hand up to stroke him. It’s nearly seamless where it connects to his body, save for more gold cyberware lines running all the way from base to tip. He runs a finger over one, and Kerry gives a choked swear. Johnny hums thoughtfully.

“Can I ask how it works?” 

“It’s–fuck–it’s like,” Kerry struggles to speak when Johnny tightens his grip and increases his pace, “Sort of like a cock, it’s got the nerves and everything, extra sensitive, but custom like the straps. Can swap it out if I want since it’s chrome.”

Johnny’s eyebrows raise. 

“Impressive. What about your–”

“Medicine and tech have come a long way, and it didn’t bother me. Get your mouth on me before I have to give you a seminar,” he tugs Johnny’s hair lightly, “C’mon.”

Johnny chuckles a little as he sucks marks onto Kerry’s neck and chest. Once his neck gets uncomfortable, he flips Kerry onto his back and removes his boxers to continue licking down his body. His tongue traces over the gold lines framing his muscles between marks, and he’s a little surprised it doesn’t taste metallic like his chrome. He runs his hands down his thighs, pulling them over his shoulders as he lays down between them.

Johnny’s tongue runs over the length of Kerry’s folds before plunging in, arms looped around Kerry’s upper thighs to hold him still. Once Johnny’s satisfied that he’s wet, his tongue follows a gold line all the way to the tip of Kerry’s cock. He makes eye contact with Kerry as he gives a cheeky wink and swallows him down to the root. Kerry’s head thumps against the bed with a breathy “fuck.” His hips try to thrust, but he’s held in place by Johnny’s hands. Johnny starts slow but quickly speeds up, bobbing quickly. Kerry’s right hand fists in his now messy bun, and he feels Johnny’s muffled groan around his cock. He moans and pulls him up by the hair.

“Wait– shit, Johnny, that’s– wait, a sec.” 

He pants as Johnny pops off him, jaw gleaming with spit and slick. He licks his lips as he admires the line of bruises running along the cyberware on the left side of his body. He’d better even it out. 

He leaves more marks as he slowly trails his way up to Kerry’s mouth, and Kerry groans impatiently. Johnny nips at his neck and jaw before he kisses him. His cold chrome wraps around Kerry’s back while the other tangles in his hair. Kerry arches into him, accidentally grinding their hips together. They both moan, and Johnny deepens the kiss. He kisses him like he really will die if he isn’t able to taste him. Like he’s already died, and all he thought about was the taste of Kerry on his tongue. It’s dizzying. They grind together until they’re out of breath, and even then, they only stop to remove Johnny’s underwear. 

Kerry’s arms loop around Johnny’s neck as Johnny rubs the ladder against his dick. He hums in consideration, but Johnny beats him to the question.

“How do you want me? Who’s fucking who?” 

“You got something in mind?”

“Taste me,” he slips two fingers into Kerry’s mouth, “Degrade me. Use me.” 

He removes his hand from his mouth to wrap Kerry’s around both of their dicks, giving them a slow stroke. 

“Do whatever the fuck you want with me, but don’t stop until you can’t cum anymore. We’re not finished until you can’t walk and the only words we know are each other’s names. So show me how you want me.”

Kerry bites his lip as he weighs the many options, and his eyebrows twitch up when he comes to a decision.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

He smiles up at Johnny, wrapping his legs around his waist, and he uses the distraction to roll him onto his back below him. Once Kerry’s upright, he grabs something from his nearby jacket pocket. Johnny blinks as he reorients himself, jumping a little when Kerry pours cold lube onto his own cock, a little dripping onto Johnny’s abdomen. 

He gives himself a long stroke before he slides down between Johnny’s knees. He rests Johnny’s calves on his shoulders as he runs his hands up the length of his legs, and Johnny gets goosebumps from the look in Kerry’s eyes. His warm hands glide up to his thighs before one moves down to his ass. He presses against the plug, pushing it up against his prostate. Johnny grunts. Kerry pushes the base a couple more times in consideration.

“Think this got you stretched for me, or do you need my fingers?”

Johnny’s cock twitches in interest, and Johnny huffs at Kerry’s soft laugh.

“Let’s check, then, yeah?”

Kerry watches as he slowly removes the plug from Johnny and presses his fingers against his rim. He’s still fairly wet from the extremely generous amount of lube he used earlier, so he slides two fingers in without warning. Johnny groans. Kerry’s fingers meet little resistance when he thrusts shallowly, so he adds a third. Johnny breathes heavily above him, hands fisted in the sheets beside him. It’s a little more of a stretch with the added finger, but not uncomfortable. 

“Think you can take another?” He doesn’t wait for another answer, pouring some lube onto his fingers before adding the fourth, “I think you can. Look at that…”

The generous amount of lube makes an obscene sound when Kerry thrusts and crooks his fingers inside him. When Kerry hits his prostate, Johnny’s back arches off the bed, and a moan catches in his throat. Kerry keeps going as long as he can before Johnny grabs his wrist, breathing raggedly. 

“Ker,” he swallows to clear the gravel in his voice as he pleads, “Come on.”

Kerry removes his hand to wrap both around his thighs, sucking a mark on the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, and Johnny squirms. Kerry presses a kiss to the mark before looking at him.

“What do you want?”

“...”

Johnny averts his eyes, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. Kerry leaves a mark further up on his thigh, and Johnny squirms again. 

“I know you want me, baby,” Johnny’s eyes follow him as Kerry gives himself a slow stroke, “you just have to say it. ” 

Johnny bites his lip hard enough to draw a little blood. It stings when he licks his lips. Kerry’s hand moves up to stroke Johnny as he leans down to suck another mark in the crease of his thigh. Johnny whines.

“Kerry..”

“Say you want me, and you can have whatever you want.” 

“Fuck, you know I want you, why the hell do I have to say it?”

“Because I said so.”

“So you’ve got a thing for it?”

Kerry doesn’t dignify that with an answer.

“Oh, you motherfu–uck,” his words turn into a drawn out groan when Kerry takes his leaking dick into his mouth, hand pumping the base. His voice raises in pitch as he keens, “Fuck, FUCK, okay. Okay, yes, I want you, so hurry up and get your cock in me already.” 

Kerry pops off of him with a smile.

“Whatever you want, baby.” He kisses Johnny’s knee on his shoulder as he lines himself up and pushes the head inside, “deep breaths for me. Ready?”

Johnny nods.

Kerry slowly slides until he reaches the hilt, groaning, and Johnny gasps. There’s no pain thanks to ample prepping, but he’s stretched full. Kerry gives him a little time to adjust before starts to move, thrusting shallowly. It’s not enough.

“Deeper,” Johnny encourages Kerry closer, tightening his legs where they’re wrapped around his shoulders, “Give me more.”

Kerry’s hands adjust their grip on Johnny’s thighs as he leans to fold him in half, lifting his lower body off the bed. Kerry rolls his hips, and the head of his cock rubs hard against Johnny’s prostate. Johnny lets out a strangled “fuck” as he arches in the air. Kerry murmurs praises against his thighs as he continues, and Johnny’s hips try to match his movements futilely. Kerry folds him impossibly farther to lean down for a sloppy kiss, pressing deeper inside him. The angle is a little awkward, but it’s worth it when Johnny moans a broken whimper into his mouth. Kerry tapers off the kiss to admire Johnny. His eyes are closed, brows furrowed and mouth open as he pants and whines breathily, and his flushed skin glistens with sweat and pre-cum slowly runs up his stomach from his leaking cock. He’s breathtaking.

“Shit, Johnny, you’re perfect like this.”

Johnny makes a pleased noise in agreement, head pressing back into the mattress.

“You like how I fuck you, baby?”

“Yeah, this is. Fuck, this is incredible.”

His eyes flutter open, hazy with pleasure, to meet Kerry’s eyes.

“But you can go harder.”

When he feels Kerry’s hips falter slightly, he continues.

“Fuck me so hard I’ll feel it all week. Don’t let me wonder if this was just a dream.”

Kerry slows to a stop when he’s fully seated in him, and he gently lowers Johnny’s right leg to the bed, holding him by the left one and a hand on his hip to keep him split open on his cock. Johnny swears at the new angle. Kerry chuckles lowly and presses a kiss to his calf with a smirk.

“I’m going to ruin you.” 

Kerry thrusts into him harshly, relentless as he forces the air from Johnny’s lungs. Johnny gasps, and his chrome hand finds the headboard in a vice-like grip, cracking it slightly. Kerry feels his thigh twitch against him. Once he manages a proper breath, his other hand fists in Kerry’s hair with a tug.

“C’mon,” he pants, unable to keep up his usual smirk, “Is that all you’ve got?”

“Fuck no” Kerry laughs, “I just thought you might want to keep breathing a little longer before I fuck the life back out of you again.”

He slams into him harder and faster. Johnny’s lashes flutter. The sound of his breathy moans are choppy as Kerry punches his breath out of him. His tempo increases to a prestissimo as he grabs Johnny’s cock, stroking in time, and Johnny’s hand drops from his hair to the bed. He’s close, but so is Kerry.

“Yes, just like that, Ker,” his sentence is interrupted by a whine, “Love it when you treat me like a slut.”

“Cause you are a slut for me, baby. Happy to whine while I make you my bitch, aren’t you?”

Johnny clenches around him.

“Ker, fuck, I’m so close, I need. I need,” he whimpers, teetering near the edge.

“What is it, baby?”

“Need to feel you fill me up. U–Use me, please, fuck, wanna feel you in me. I–”

Kerry swears as he leans down to cut him off with a kiss.

“I’ve got you, I promise. I’ll use you like my pretty, perfect toy, but I want to hear you scream my name. Think you can do that for me, baby?”

Johnny loosely nods his head.

“So sweet when you’re drunk on my cock,” he growls, thrusting even faster, “Let me see you cum for me, Johnny.” 

Kerry’s hand speeds up even faster than his hips, and Johnny tips over the edge seconds later. His mouth opens in a silent scream before he whimpers Kerry’s name on loop with increasing desperation. Kerry swears, thrusts becoming irregular, and he sinks his teeth into Johnny’s thigh as he finishes inside him with a muffled groan. He keeps thrusting through his orgasm as his tongue laves over the bite. He slows to a stop, panting heavily, and leans down to give Johnny a kiss. He hears a small crunch followed by something dropping to the floor before Johnny’s chrome wraps around his neck, the other hand staying on the bed and brushing his knee. Goosebumps crawl up his skin from the cold metal, but he hums happily.

Kerry breaks the kiss when their arms get tired, flopping himself down to lay against Johnny’s chest without bothering to pull out. They enjoy the quiet, just breathing each other in. Johnny’s chrome hand carefully combs through Kerry’s sweat-damp hair, the other pinned under Kerry’s weight, and Kerry feels himself twitch when his finger inevitably catches on a tangle. Johnny huffs in amusement when Kerry looks up with a glimmer in his eyes.

“Johnny?”

“Hmm?” Johnny can’t hide his own smile when Kerry grins at him mischievously.

“Did you mean it about going ‘till we can’t anymore? I think it's your turn to top.”

Chapter Text

Johnny groans in a mix of exasperation and fondness although he’s still smiling. Kerry’s always been insatiable, so it’s no surprise he’s already ready to go. It’s not like he’s complaining. He’s had plenty of time to imagine what he’d do if he had a body again, so it’s about time they start to check off that list. Kerry grunts as he sits back up and pulls out, running his fingers over the cum starting to leak out of him. He licks the pool off of Johnny’s stomach to distract him before he shoves the plug back in without warning. Johnny swears and freezes in shock before he lunges to shove Kerry back onto the bed by the shoulders. He leans down inches from his lips with a sneer. 

“Always so possessive of me, but you’re fucking aching for whatever I give you, aren’t you, Ker?”

His chrome hand pulls Kerry’s hair back to bare his neck, and he bites above his artery, breaking the skin without drawing blood. Kerry hums in the back of his throat, and Johnny takes it as confirmation.

“That’s what I thought,” Johnny’s hand loosens in his hair, cold metal dragging down to  gently squeeze his throat. “You’re gonna take me till you’re fucking sick of me, sweetheart.” 

Johnny hopes that’s not true. If Kerry actually gets sick of him, he’s not sure what he’ll do. As he trails his hand down to stroke Kerry’s cock, watching Kerry’s eyes flutter shut and breath hitch, he thinks he could never get enough of this. He slides down to take Kerry into his mouth, watching his reactions as his tongue circles the head of his cock. Kerry’s hips jerk, forcing more of him into his mouth, and Johnny exhales through his nose. 

He swallows him to the root and stops, looking up expectantly. Kerry’s eyes meet his, and his breath hitches. Johnny lifts his head slightly as he grabs Kerry’s hips, pushing him in and out of his mouth, and Kerry gets the message. A shaky hand threads through Johnny’s hair as he thrusts into his mouth, and Johnny hums in approval when his cock hits the back of his throat. He swallows around him, eyes watering slightly, and Kerry chokes out a high moan. He really could do this forever, pleasing him with his mouth. Sucking cock and eating pussy are similar enough that he isn’t particularly surprised that he took to it so easily. Plus, it’s nice giving him what he wants sometimes.

When Kerry finishes, Johnny keeps the cum in his mouth as he crawls up Kerry’s body. He leans down on one arm above him, and his chrome hand cups his jaw. Kerry’s lips are warm against the cool metal of his thumb, and it’s even warmer when Kerry sucks the tip of his thumb into his mouth, laving his tongue over the smooth pad of his finger. Johnny’s hand clenches in the sheets by Kerry’s head. He uses his thumb to hold Kerry’s mouth open wide as he leans down and opens his mouth. A mix of semen and his saliva dribble down between them. Kerry’s eyes widen in surprise, pupils dilating slightly. He struggles to swallow and makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat that Johnny takes that as his queue. 

Johnny replaces his thumb with his tongue in Kerry’s mouth, and he hums at the taste. Salty, mostly like Kerry but he swears he can still taste himself, too. As they kiss sloppily, the taste becomes less distinguishable, mixing into one. It’s kind of hot. Kerry’s hands squeeze along Johnny’s body, firm but almost reverent. Johnny feels like he’s dreaming again, and a tight feeling settles in his chest and throat. Now is really not the time to be having this kind of issue.

He uncaps the lube and starts to prep Kerry. He’s tight, unlike Johnny thanks to the toy, so he requires gentler movements. Johnny opts for his right hand just in case. Kerry breathes heavily beneath him, still sensitive from his recent orgasm, and he grows more and more impatient by the second. Johnny works him open until he’s taking 3 fingers easily before Kerry won’t cooperate any longer.

“If you don’t get in my ass within the next 30 seconds, I’m leaving.”

“This is your house, dumbass.”

“Clocks ticking…”

Johnny snorts.

“Fine, damn, I was just trying to be careful..”

“As if you’d care,” Kerry scoffs.

Johnny’s brow furrows, and he bristles slightly.

“The hell do you mean?”

“Oh, don’t get started, just come on.” 

Kerry reaches down to line him up, and Johnny grunts with frustration and arousal. 

“Fuckin’ fine.”

He pushes into Kerry, easing in a few inches at a time until he bottoms out. Kerry takes a shuddering breath as Johnny’s hips meet his thighs, but Johnny doesn’t give him extra time to adjust before he starts to move. He knows Kerry likes the stretch. They kiss shallowly as Johnny continues thrusting at a medium pace, one hand still on Kerry’s jaw and the other stroking his cock. Kerry’s thighs squeeze his own, and his brows furrow. He murmurs against Johnny’s lips.

“More.”

Johnny speeds up before stopping abruptly and pulls out. Kerry barely manages a baffled look before Johnny flips him by his hips, situating him on all fours. He leans down to bite between the dimples on his back, nipping a stripe up his spine to his neck before he slides back in smoothly. He sets a harsh pace when he leans back, and his hands grip Kerry’s hips firmly. He’ll be bruised tomorrow, and he looks forward to it. Kerry grunts as Johnny pushes a hand between his shoulder blades, collapsing him onto his forearms and chest. It’s still not enough.

“Hit me.”

Johnny falters for a second. Usually this sort of thing went the other way around between them.

“Are you sure–”

“Hit me!”

Johnny’s tattooed hand strikes the skin of his ass with a resounding slap, and he feels Kerry clench around him as he groans. His hands clench in the sheets near his head.

“Again.”

He obeys, another strike landing only centimeters off from the previous. The reddening skin is hot to the touch as he smooths his hand over his ass. His hand is starting to sting.

“Again,” Kerry pants from the combination of pain and pleasure, “please.” 

Johnny hums, brows furrowing as he raises his hand and hits him again. Something doesn’t feel right, but he pushes aside the feeling. It’s fine. Kerry whimpers, and his arms collapse, body propped solidly on his chest as Johnny pumps into him. 

“Fuck, don’t stop. Another, come on.”

Johnny winces as he lands the next blow on Kerry’s skin, blood vessels are starting to burst from the repeated impacts. Kerry yelps, and his cock drips precum onto the sheet below him. He heaves shaky breaths as he readjusts his grip on the bed, head hanging low.

“Use your chrome.”

Johnny abruptly stops, silver arm jerking back reflexively. His jaw clenches, and he takes a long breath before he puts his hands back on Kerry’s hips gently. 

“No.” 

Kerry cranes his head to look back at him, confused and frustrated by the lack of cooperation. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done some pretty crazy shit back before Johnny died, so he doesn’t get what the deal is.

“Why the hell not? Not like you’re scared of hurting m-”

“Yellow,” Johnny’s grip tightens on Kerry’s hip, chrome pressing against his skin a little too hard to be pleasant. His eyes grow distant.

Johnny’s mind races, flashing through images of what his hand’s done. People left bloody and broken. Or worse. Bones crunching under the metal. Their yelling, screaming. Silence. Most of them he can’t even remember what the sorry bastards did, just how his hand itched, practically burned, and how much of a pain it was to clean the joints after he gave in. He knows just how easily he could obliterate Kerry, one strike too hard and he’d need surgery. He can’t do that shit right now. Can’t risk it. He’s not sure if his new body can’t calibrate to the old tech or if being digital for so long let him forget how bad it was, but he’s remembering why he’s tried to rip it off before. Doesn’t matter, it’s not fucking happening. 

“Johnny?” Kerry winces as the grip on his hip becomes painful.

Johnny snaps out of it, letting go of his hip with a frown. Well fuck. 

Kerry slowly sits up on his knees, reaching back to hold Johnny’s metal hand where it hovers just above his hip. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Johnny is shaking. Johnny startles slightly at the contact, but he opens his palm to allow it. The chrome is warmer than usual from the heat of Kerry’s skin but not as warm as his chest pressing against his back. When Kerry pulls his arm to rest against his chest, giving his fingers a squeeze, Johnny gives a gentle squeeze back. 

He lowers his head to Kerry’s shoulder with a sigh. Kerry’s chest expands under his hand as he takes calm, deep breaths. He’s helped him enough times to tell when Johnny isn’t in the mood to talk about it, and it’s kind of a relief. There’s really nothing to say about it. He’s fine. They’re fine. Everything is fine. Johnny mimics Kerry’s breathing pattern and tries to calm down. He’s always fucking hated this, whatever this random emotional bullshit is, but it’s not usually so bad when Kerry’s there to help. He’s used to him. His skin is soft against him, albeit a little hot and sticky with sweat. He feels his cock refilling where it had started to flag previously. He’s a little surprised Kerry’s still willing to help with this sort of… emotional thing still, but he’s not about to bite the hand that feeds him. Not if he can help it.

Johnny’s mouth brushes against the back of Kerry’s neck, beard softly scratching his sensitive skin. Kerry’s breath hitches, and he threads a hand into Johnny’s hair when he trails kisses along his shoulder and neck.

“You don’t want to stop?”

“Not unless you do. Do you?”

Johnny gets no response. His hand slides down Kerry’s chest slowly, admiring his gold chrome against his own. He presses open-mouthed kisses to his neck as he wraps a hand around Kerry’s cock, maroon bruises trailing wherever his lips touch. He nips at the corner of his jaw.

“Tell me to stop.”

He can feel Kerry’s pulse race under his skin when he starts to stroke him. Kerry hums but doesn’t answer. 

“Tell me to stop.”

Johnny rolls his hips into him deep and slow, bracing his tattooed hand on Kerry’s hip. Kerry moans lowly when he feels him squeeze him gently. Johnny leans his head to get a better view of his face. 

“Tell me.”

His chrome hand on Kerry’s cock steadily slides to his neck to rest just under his jaw. His chrome hand is feather light when he tips Kerry’s head back, but his other tightens on his hip.  His lips slide warm and wet across his skin, moving almost in tandem with his hips. Kerry’s breath stutters, and Johnny hums in question. He doesn’t need to ask again.

“Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” Johnny’s beard tickles a little as he smiles against Kerry’s neck before he can stop himself, “I won’t.” 

They keep a slow pace, hands gliding smoothly across sweat-slick muscles. Kerry is getting close, starting to clench around him, but Johnny is even closer. His touch is achingly tender when he holds Kerry against him with a hand against his chest, and the other wraps around his cock to stroke in time with the roll of his hips. He presses his face into Kerry’s hair with a deep, pleased rumble. Kerry smells less like his fancy hygiene products thanks to the sweat gathering in his silver hair when Johnny breathes him in. Much better, now. He smells like Kerry. His Kerry.

“So good for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs against his skin, “so fucking good.”

His hips roll faster, still slow but more forceful as he struggles to maintain his rhythm. Kerry moans brokenly when Johnny’s hand adjusts his grip on his cock, pumping fast. He won't cum until Kerry does. He murmurs praises to him as Kerry gets close, not sweet nothings so much as somethings, and Kerry whimpers at his words. How he loves having him. He loves feeling him. Loves breathing him. Loves…

Kerry gasps as his cock spills over his stomach and Johnny’s hand, but Johnny doesn’t slow his movements. He quickly loses his rhythm. The sight of Kerry cumming over his hand with the punched-out, overstimulated sounds he makes with every roll of Johnny’s hips is enough to send him over the edge, too. He groans as he spills inside him; Kerry’s head hangs as he moans lowly at the sensation. That was a lot, emotionally and physically, so they take a minute to breathe before Johnny gingerly pulls out. He encourages Kerry to lay down as he assesses the damage. They’re both coated in sweat and sex and bruises. He can’t decide if it’s hot or gross, but he lands on mostly hot. He’s exhausted, but Kerry gets fussy about his sheets. He reassures Kerry he’ll be right back before retrieving a damp washcloth and a random gentle lotion from Kerry’s shelf, wiping himself down before he returns.

He isn’t sure if Kerry is awake when he walks back to him, but he hums in acknowledgement as Johnny climbs back onto the bed. He methodically smooths the rag over his skin, taking care not to disturb him when he wipes over sensitive spots. His chrome hand holds him and moves him as he cleans with his tattooed hand, working quickly but thoroughly. Once Kerry’s decently clean, he applies lotion to the worst of his bruises, but he pauses when he finishes covering the handprints on his ass. His cum is starting to leak out. He considers cleaning it up, but Kerry grabs his wrist and tells him to leave it and come lay down already. Johnny shrugs; they’re not his sheets. He puts the items aside and climbs into bed next to him.

Johnny sinks into the bed, settling himself for a few seconds before opening his arms wordlessly. Kerry shuffles towards him and tucks his head under Johnny’s chin, wrapping an arm and leg over his waist and thighs, and Johnny pulls the thin cover over them both. Kerry hums happily, starting to drift off a little when Johnny’s hand rubs his neck absent-mindedly. Johnny doesn’t mind. Honestly, he could really get used to this… closeness with Kerry, even if he doesn’t love some of the design choices he’s made. He snorts as he looks at the headboard, disturbing Kerry.

“What‘s it?” Kerry grumbles.

Johnny fails to hide a smile.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep, sweetheart.” 

“No,” Kerry sits up slightly to look at him suspiciously, “what is it? What did you do?”

“Hope you didn’t like that headboard.” 

Johnny nods towards the missing chunk, and Kerry’s eyes follow blearily. He hums thoughtfully before putting his head back down.

“We’ll finish breaking it tomorrow, and then you can build me a new one. Fair?”

Johnny’s eyebrows raise with a slight nod.

“Fair.” 

He combs his fingers through Kerry’s hair until he feels his breathing slow against him, and he barely stifles a laugh when he hears a quiet snore. He really is still his Kerry, even if he isn’t exactly the same. He presses a kiss to the top of his head, mumbling a “g’night, Ker,” before he drifts off to sleep. 

Chapter Text

Kerry wakes in the middle of the night to Johnny grumbling above him, and he sighs quietly. He almost forgot Johnny talks in his sleep sometimes. Not every time, but if he was really tired or something was nagging him, he talked. Sometimes it’s just a few words, other times it’s a full conversation. It was 95% nonsense, but he learned to pay attention to the other 5% just in case. Kerry tries to listen to him now, but the sound is distorted with one ear against his chest. He sits up, careful not to wake him as he leans toward him. 

It’s dark in the room, but the moonlight streaming through the windows reflects blue off Johnny’s pale skin. He looks almost elegant with the blanket draped around his hip, but his messy hair brings him from gorgeous painting to amusing reality. Kerry wouldn’t have him any other way. His lips move, but Kerry still can’t understand his whispering. He silently curses himself for never wearing earplugs, he should really go to a ripper to get checked out. It’s been a while since he’s gotten tuned. He leans close enough to count his eyelashes before he can finally make out Johnny’s whispering. His forehead is a little creased like he’s getting frustrated, but he’s not making much sense. His speech is slurred, but Kerry makes out something about there not being any chickens for eggs any more. He asks Kerry why all the chickens are, whatever that means, but he injures himself in his dream before Kerry responds to him. He gives a fairly loud “Ow, fuck,” and frowns, and Kerry barely holds back a snicker. Not a nightmare, then. Good.

Kerry carefully untangles himself from him, figuring he’ll get some water while he’s awake, when Johnny says his name. He pauses, unsure if Johnny’s awake or still dreaming. 

“Kerryyyy. Kerry?” he rolls onto his side, chrome arm flopping gracelessly over the empty space in the bed, but he’s not awake yet, “Where?”

“I’m here, J, just gonna get something to drink.”

“Mmm. Tequila.”

“No, just water,” Kerry holds in a laugh as Johnny’s brow furrows, “be right back.”

Johnny’s arm slides on the bed.

“Can’t leavesme ‘ere.”

Kerry sighs and puts his hands on his hips, considering that Johnny could be fucking with him, but he can’t think of anything funny or twisted that he could really get out of this. Might as well play along so he can get the water and go back to sleep himself.

“Why not?”

“’s dark.” 

“It’s okay, I won’t be far.”

“Far’s dark. Bad.”

Kerry raises an eyebrow. Johnny practically lived in the dark before, but he guesses things could’ve changed. 

“Are you scared of the dark?”

“Yyesno? Cold alone,” he shivers at a memory, brow furrowing as he stirs at the unpleasant memory, and Kerry winces. It’s usually rough for him waking up from something like this whether he remembers or not. “C’mere. Safe.” 

His arm thumps on the bed as he unsuccessfully searches for him again before curling in on himself, and his breathing starts to get rougher. Kerry climbs onto the bed behind him before Johnny can wake himself up fully. The water can wait till the morning.

“Can’t go, Ker, ’s stuck in the wet. You’ve–”

Kerry shushes him, leaning over to tuck his bangs back from his face.

“It’s alright, Johnny, I’m here,” he pets his hair soothingly, “You’re here with me. You’re safe. We’re safe here, right?”

Johnny hums, stilling but not relaxing yet.

“Safe?”

“We’re safe. I promise,” Kerry scoots close behind Johnny, wrapping an arm around his waist, “I’ve got you, see? Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

Johnny deflates, chrome arm flopping up to cover Kerry’s as he sighs.

“Y’ur comin’ with me. Hot. My place?”

“We’re already in bed, baby. Mine.”

“Yeahm course ‘m yours. Keepssafe. Sleep. Food’s 10 if chicken’s real.”

Kerry snickers quietly.

“Alright, goodnight, baby.”

Johnny gives a singular snore to announce his return to slumber, and Kerry has to muffle his laughter with his hand, the concern temporarily overshadowed by his amusement. Kerry isn’t over the chicken thing. He’s never seen Johnny cook in his life, so he’s not sure how he intends to make the breakfast even though chickens are real. What a freak. His freak, apparently. He yawns, effectively cutting off his own thoughts. He really should get back to sleep. He can practically feel his brain cells evaporating as he tries to think about everything Johnny’s said tonight. It can be a problem for future him. One that’s had some sleep. And coffee. Maybe some chicken or eggs if he’s lucky. He huffs in amusement before he drifts off to sleep. 

~Several hours later~

The soft orange light of the sunrise fills the villa, spilling across the floor and bed as Johnny begins to stir. He is slow to wake. Coming into consciousness comes as easy as crawling through mud. The whole world feels comfortingly warm and soft, and the feeling only grows as he blinks open his eyes with a quiet yawn. Kerry presses against his back, holding him against his chest by an arm draped over his stomach, and his hot breath fans over the nape of his neck. He’s snoring slightly. 

The morning light cascading over them both beautifully highlights the muscles in his arm, and Johnny can’t resist running his fingers along his tattoos. He keeps his touch light, unwilling to wake him and ruin the sense of peace that has settled over the house. Luckily, Kerry’s a pretty heavy sleeper. He wishes he could see the rest of him having to move, but he isn’t willing to risk it when he’s so comfortable. He’s not used to being a “little spoon.” It’s admittedly pretty nice being so close. Closer than when he fell asleep with Kerry on his chest, somehow. That seems important, but he’s not sure how or why. 

His fingers follow the lines of Kerry’s tattoos up his arm, admiring the details as much as he can without his glasses. Maybe he should get the Kiroshis after all… Fuck no, what the hell is he thinking? He likes his very real, shitty eyes. Not as much as he’d liked Kerry’s, but he’s got to let it go since it’s his damn fault he wasn’t here to talk him out of it. The blue is kind of growing on him anyways. Things seem like less of a problem after dying a few times, not worth dying over again at least. His hand pauses on Kerry’s bicep when he reaches the “2023,” and he swallows hard before he moves his hand down to mess with his bracelets instead. He spends a few minutes spinning Kerry’s gold bracelet and thinking until he decides he won’t be able to get back to sleep. Might as well get up. Fuck if he’s comfortable, though. He can wait a little longer.

He begrudgingly gets up about 15 minutes later because he really needs to pee. He carefully removes Kerry’s arm from around his waist and slides out of bed. When he stands, he’s noticeably sore, especially where Kerry bit him, and he feels the plug shifting in him. It’s a little uncomfortable, but he leaves it. He stretches his back with a quiet grunt, smiling and shaking his head as he takes a better look at Kerry. He’s godlike glowing in golden morning light, too beautiful to be real, but Johnny’s got no doubt it’s still just Kerry. His hair has fallen from his dedicated styling, thoroughly mussed from the night before, and a thin line of drool runs from the corner of his lips to his pillow from his soft snoring. Johnny gently threads his fingers through Kerry’s hair to detangle the knots, but the hair sticks up more. Kerry’s head unconsciously leans into his touch with a small smile. A warm, tight feeling creeps into Johnny’s chest and throat that he can’t swallow down. A stray hair falls artfully over Kerry’s eyes, and shit, he’s so pretty he can’t look away. He pulls the blanket up to cover him a little more before snapping a quick picture, not bothering to check if it turned out. Kerry’s freakishly photogenic. He rolls his eyes at himself. What the actual fuck is wrong with him? God, he’s acting like some obsessive groupie. A lovestruck idiot.

He buffers on the last thought. He’s not– He’s not really, is he? No, of course not, it was nothing like that when he was with Alt. Granted he was shit to her, too, but still, it felt different. That can’t be it. He’s pretty damn sure he’d know if he were in love with Kerry. He pushes the thought aside to search for his underwear with a frown before giving up and stealing some soft, dark grey sweatpants from the front of Kerry’s closet. They fit well enough. He doesn’t bother with a shirt when he heads to the bathroom. He ignores himself in the fancy mirror until he goes to wash his hands, having little choice but to look when he’s face to face with himself.  He’s just as marked up as Kerry, maybe more considering the bites. Pretty impressive. He nods with a quirk of his eyebrows as he starts counting, quickly getting bored around 43. If they keep this up, he might have to invest in a mesh shirt. He muses more on the idea since it’d be a great way to show off the marks and piercings. Kerry’s liable to keel over. He’s surprised he didn’t go crazier with the piercings, but he was probably just worried about an infection, remembering the old healing process too well. He’d better get the shirt, loosen him up a bit again. Johnny huffs amusedly, running his hands through his hair as he makes his ways downstairs to the kitchen. Kerry’s definitely done a number on him this time in more ways than one. 

He enters the kitchen with a sigh, immediately opening and closing the drawers in search of literally anything he knows how to use. A large bottom drawer has a few skillets and saucepans, and he manages to find a ridiculous assortment of utensils in a small drawer in the island. Weird organization. He’ll have to rearrange it sometime since he doubts Kerry actually uses any of it. He opens the fridge slowly, half expecting an ambush from some old mutated food, but it’s almost entirely empty save for a few energy drinks on the door and some ice cream in the freezer. Not surprising but still inconvenient considering he woke up craving an omelette. His phone lights up with a text from V. He insisted V find an old-ass physical phone for him out of sheer stubbornness despite technically having a holo. He doesn’t want anyone else in his head if he can help it. Shit, maybe he is old. He taps some buttons on the wall to put on some coffee before he swipes his phone open to see what’s up.

V: I thought you might like these photos from last night, no need to thank me :) 

V: [tap to view images]

V is typing…

He taps the image, waiting impatiently while it buffers. Using old tech is slow as fuck, and he almost regrets not using his holo until it finally loads. He sucks in a breath. He’s definitely keeping these. He downloads the photos as he scrambles to find his glasses. He wants to see this in high definition. He slaps them on after he locates them around where he haphazardly dropped his keys by the door the night before. He doesn’t bother looking up as he walks back to the kitchen to lean on the counter. Kerry looked good, hell, they both look fucking phenomenal. Either they frame this, or Kerry gets whoever did his giant nude chrysalis painting to do another one of them both. Where would they put it? Above the bed? Misty was right to tell him to leave his silver streaks, so he should probably say something about that. More importantly, look at that stupid look on his face, he might as well have literal heart eyes at this point. It’s a little harder to read Kerry after his years of media training, but he looks happy, he thinks. Genuinely happy, not just that tight smile he puts on for the interviews, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. That’s just how he always looks to Johnny when they’re not fighting. Johnny looks starstruck in comparison, but at least they both look great. Seriously, though, that’s. Wow, just wow. What the fuck is he supposed to do about this? His musing is interrupted by another text from V.

V: I can practically hear you thinking from over here. Just don’t overthink it and don’t be a dick.

J: Wow, thanks. I couldn’t have figured that out without your sage advice :/

V: 🖕😄

J: …

J: Are groceries still a thing?

V: What do you mean? What are you looking for? 

J: Idfk, some real food? Eggs? 

V: Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww 

J: Don’t.

J: Don’t even start.

V: Are you gonna cook for him? You sexy senior citizens are finally getting domestic 🥺

J: Can a man not want decent food without getting shit about it? 

V: You are!!! Omgggggggg that’s adorable 💞

J: Shut up, or I’m blocking you.

V: No, you won’t, you big softie

Johnny can practically feel his blood pressure rising with each new text from V. He’s lucky he likes him sometimes. 

V:[phone number]

V: Just text what you want to that number, and it’ll show up. Otherwise, there’s a shop in the plaza. No transparency on how many eddies it’ll be cause you really don’t want to know how much it costs, and people that can still afford real food don’t need to look at the price tags. It’s fine, though, I know a guy. 

V: Check the front door first. You were a step ahead of yourself.

J: ?

Johnny’s brow furrows as he runs through the previous night. Oh, it’s the stuff from the kitchen last night. Nice. He shoots V a thanks before he opens the door to find a large elegant box resting on the concrete. It’s a little colder outside than he expected. The sky has started to cloud over, and it smells like rain. He’d better bring the food in. When he scoops it up, a cool mist seeps out from the corners onto his hands, so he takes that as a good sign that it’s temperature controlled. He reenters the house and sets the box down on the counter to look through the cupboards and drawers. He finds the silverware near the other utensils, but it’s a struggle finding the dishes, just lots of mystery appliances. And more mystery appliances, damn. Ah, there they are. He grabs a couple red ceramic plates and sets them next to the box before he flips it open. 

The desserts look picture perfect, definitely real, and probably not spoiled, and it’s such a relief that Johnny almost doesn’t care about the obnoxious labelling on the inside of the box. The creme brulee, tiramisu, and hazelnut cake are arranged in a neat row, each on a saucer for ease of removal. He opens his elbow knife and detaches it to wash it in the sink, unwilling to root around more but trying to be decently sanitary, before he halves the desserts and divides them onto the plates. He starts to walk with them towards the bedroom before remembering drinks. He hasn’t seen Kerry drink anything other than coffee and alcohol since he’s come back from the dead. That man is 87. He should know better by now, but at least Johnny is here to keep him alive. They’ve always sort of looked out for each other in their own fucked-up way. Johnny shrugs off the thought. He finds the water glasses, large and freakishly cylindrical. He grabs one in each hand, or tries to, but his chrome struggles to grip the slick glass, fumbling with a series of fairly loud clinking noises. He sets the other glass down to focus, refusing to be bested by poorly-designed glassware. This stupid little– fucking finally, he manages to pick up the delicate glass.

“You got it, Johnny?”

Johnny nearly jumps out of his skin. His heart beats fast and hand momentarily tightens, creating little fissures in the glass. How long has he been standing behind him watching him fight with a cup? He sets it down with a weary sigh. Embarrassing.

“Yeah, it’s fine, I–” he halts mid-sentence as Kerry presses against him, hands squeezing his hips as he slides behind him. He leans to grab a glass and gets some water before plopping down at a stool. 

Johnny’s brain is still short-circuiting as he gets his own water and turns to look at Kerry. He chokes on his sip. Kerry is wearing an old, black, long-sleeved samurai shirt, a sample that didn’t even make it to print, with sleeves pushed up to his elbows and some red boxers accentuated by his dramatic sprawl. It’s somehow more erotic than him being naked. Johnny’s used to naked eroticism, but this is almost too far. Kind of overwhelming in a mix of domestic and sexy. Fuck, maybe he does love him, but it doesn't change anything. He can't let it. Johnny sets down his drink to walk over, slotting between his legs, and his hands slide up his thighs until they rest under the edge of his underwear. He leans in for a kiss, but Kerry pulls back after a few seconds, brow creased.

“Wait. We need to talk.” 

His stomach twists. 

“So talk.”

“I don’t really know how to say it,” he rubs his hand over the back of his head, “I just. I don’t know if I can keep going with you like this. I can’t–”

Shit, that was fast, but he fucking knew it. Johnny shakes his head, hurt and disappointed.

“Wow, not even a ‘thanks for breakfast, Johnny?’ I thought that–” 

Thought what? That he loves him? That they’d somehow defy the odds and have a decently good life in this hell-scape of the city? Who was he kidding. A lump rises in his throat, and he swallows hard. 

“Doesn’t matter what I thought. I’m going.”

Kerry throws up his arms in disbelief as Johnny abruptly turns on his heel, taking quick strides towards the door. He grits his jaw to bite back the crushing feeling in his chest as his vision tunnels; he ignores it. Kerry gets up to slowly follow him.

“For fuck’s sake, I’m trying to talk to you here, and you’re leaving. You can’t even argue with me anymore?”

“Won’t. I am trying not to be a dick about it for once in my fucking life,” he grits out, his hands flexing at his sides as he speaks over his shoulder, “Just give me a minute.” 

He pulls on his leather jacket and boots, not bothering with a shirt as he walks out to the carport.

“News flash, leaving now is still being kind of a dick!” Kerry shouts from inside the house as he approaches the door, “Fine, go, then! Not like you ever gave a shit about me or my opinions anyways. Shit, I was stupid to think you’d actually change.”

“I know what you’re gonna say, so I’m taking the rejection and fucking off like a man,” Johnny swings a leg over his bike, starting it and pushing up the kickstand. A light sprinkle of rain is cold where it hits his skin, so he zips his jacket to fight the chill.

“Don’t need you to explain, but fuck, I mean, I can’t stop lov-" he stops himself before he can finish the word, "caring about you, but I can try to be less awful about it. I’ll be back later, don't know when. Don’t wait up.”

Kerry clears the doorway just as Johnny moves down the driveway.

“What the– You can’t just– What the fuck, Johnny?! Come back here!” Kerry yells, and Johnny raises a shaky hand from the end of the driveway.

Kerry cups his hands around his mouth to keep calling to him until he’s sure he’s out of earshot. Johnny speeds off towards town, leaving Kerry standing in the driveway, annoyed. He shakes his head, lighting a cigarette while he watches the pavement turn dark with rain.

“Well, shit.” 

He’d better make a call.

Chapter Text

Kerry goes inside to call V once the sprinkles of rain turns to a downpour. He picks up on the second ring. 

Hey, Ker, what’s up? Everything okay? I’m just finishing up a job now if you need something.

“Johnny’s being an idiot again, ran off when I tried to talk to him. I worded it weird and now he’s gone who the hell knows where, and I just. I don’t even know.”

Idiot as in gay and emotionally constipated or idiot as in storming Arasaka a third time? And tried to talk to him about what, if you don’t mind me asking?

“Us. Him and I. I was trying to be serious about it, but the idiot didn’t let me finish and delta’d the fuck off."

The muffled sound of gunshots and the rev of a motorcycle come through the other end of the holo followed by a long thirty seconds of silence. Kerry shifts uncomfortably on the couch.

Did he say anything?

Kerry recounts the conversation with Johnny walking off to try to be less of an asshole, saying he was taking the supposed rejection politely because he cares about him.

Shit, he really is an idiot. Do you want me to come? 

“My, my, V, I thought you wanted to wait until Johnny and I got settled before you live out your wild fantasies,” Kerry teases, and V sputters on the other line, “That aside, yeah, I think I do. Can you keep him out of trouble? Make sure he gets back here in one piece?”

I guess I can manage that. Can’t be much harder than having him in me. Wait– shit– not like that, I mean when we– damnit.

He stops talking out of embarrassment. There’s a few seconds of quiet before Kerry bursts out laughing, making it hard for V to interject and try to redeem his phrasing, and he heaves breaths as he tries to calm down. He’s still chuckling as he interrupts V who’s resumed his nervous rambling.

“Calm down, calm down, I know what you mean, you gonk. Even if you’d fucked, I’d mostly just be upset I didn’t get to watch. He’d let you, you know. Shit, I’m sure you do, you shared a head,” Kerry reins himself in, clearing his throat, “We’ll save that for another day, though. One where he’s not running around like a chicken with his head cut off. Go get ‘im for me.”

I… will definitely come back to that. And I will. I’ll find him. Need anything else?

He doesn’t, so V says his goodbyes.

“Thanks, V. For putting up with us and everything. It was good talking to you again. Bye now.”

He ends the call quickly, not giving himself the chance to make it awkward. He feels lighter than before; he’s missed him. He doesn’t blame him for wanting to break up, at least while he and Johnny keep acting like idiots, but that doesn’t make them miss him any less. Maybe it’s for the best for all of them to get used to having their own space again? That’s not just his place to decide, though, considering he clearly has no fucking clue how to handle this anymore. It was almost easier when he’d fly off the wall. At least then he knew what to expect. He’s always kind of wondered how much Johnny really affected their relationship being in V’s head, but it doesn’t really matter. He loves them as their own people. Even if they act insane sometimes cause, really, who is he to judge? Maybe he’ll get to see them together once he hunts Johnny down, but he can only hope.

His stomach rumbles, and he’s reminded of the desserts. He should eat them before they go bad. He saves Johnny a tiramisu in the fridge and takes the rest with him back to the couch with a rare, overpriced cognac he got as a gift for some deal he made 20 or so years ago. He told himself he’d been saving it for a special occasion, but really who’s to say it isn’t? It’s not every day your choom / love of your life comes back from the dead and has to get tracked down by your ex? Output / potential other love of your life because said choom ran away when you tried to talk to him about his recent behavior. It’s practically a shitty romance novel at this point. They’re just missing magic plot-armor and one of them being a fairy in the more literal sense.

He sinks into the sofa with a sigh and turns on the big screen to watch some rom-coms with his meal. Too bad Johnny isn’t here to complain about it. He knows he “secretly” loves them. He makes fun of him, ends up standing watching for 15 minutes, finally sits down like he doesn’t care, and spends the entire rest of the movie loudly complaining about the stupid decisions the protagonists make because they’re “so stupid if the right choice were a snake it would’ve bit ‘em.” There’s no shortage of bad-in-retrospect rom-coms since Johnny’s missed over 50 years of them, though. Maybe that’s how he’ll start to make it up to him for dying twice. 

Kerry takes a long swig from the bottle followed by a bite of cheesecake, and he grimaces. That doesn’t pair well at all, but he doesn’t really give a fuck right now. He’s got to do something to stay entertained while he waits, and if that means drinking an unhealthy amount and watching movies he hasn’t seen in years, he’s gonna do it. He takes another swig and selects a movie from the list. Actually, he wants his robe; it makes the day-drinking seem more acceptable and dramatic. He swaps his shirt for the silky robe before returning to the couch with a sigh as the beginning credits roll. He wonders when those two will get home. Hopefully soon.

~

~

~

It’s barely an hour after Johnny leaves that he hears a car pull into the underpass with him drenched in rain, huddled between the bike and the wall like he’s trying to merge into the concrete. He really should’ve changed before he left, argument be damned, because it’s only gotten colder. The metal of his arm is like ice where it’s wrapped around his legs, and he can’t stop shaking. Not from the weather. He’s spiraling. He can feel it, the crushing weight of ruining everything again, and he can’t do anything to stop it. He’d tried, he really tried, but he’s just destined to be a fuck-up forever. To burn anything and anyone he touches. And now he’s gone and burnt Kerry again with his typical Johnny bullshit, and he’s lost him forever. Again. He’s not sure what the hell he’s supposed to do. How he’s supposed to live with himself after he just fucked everything up again. He pulls his knees tighter against his chest, and the soft fabric of Kerry’s sweatpants is soggy where it presses harder against his forehead. 

A car door opens and shuts, and boots slosh as someone approaches him. Maybe someone’s here to put him out of his misery after his recent appearance, but he’s never been that lucky. Fabric slides and rustles over his head before something heavy and warm settles around his shoulders. The person sits down beside him. Johnny tenses up at the close proximity, but he can’t seem to move. He’s frozen in place, everything too loud and too quiet, too light and too dark all at once where he’s trapped in his own body. A glimmer of orange and the metallic click of a lighter as the person relaxes against the wall next to him. He can’t see their face with his head on his knees, and he leans away when the person shifts closer to him.

“Hey, just me, it’s V,” he doesn’t attempt to get any closer yet, “Is it alright if I sit with ya? Should’ve asked first, sorry.”

Johnny gives a slight nod, not fully capable of moving to look at him. Or really wanting to at this point. He doesn’t want his pity, he knows he must look like half the wreck he is, and he can’t take seeing that look in his eyes right now. Can’t stand letting another person down when he was trying to do right by them for once. He’s such a fucking idiot. He should’ve known it could never work out.

“Thanks.”

V doesn’t speak again. Johnny focuses on the sound of the rain still pouring down, smacking hard against the pavement above and around them. The scuff of V’s boots as he shifts on the wet ground. His own shaking breaths. Fuck, he’s pathetic, but he doesn’t know what the fuck else to do. His breath hitches, and he tightens his arms around himself. He’s not about to cry in public, even if it’s just V. V adjusts his jacket over Johnny’s shoulders before putting an arm around him. Johnny tenses from the contact, but he gradually relaxes after a couple minutes. V relaxes his arm to rest against him fully, pulling him in a little closer without a word. Johnny hiccups quietly, fighting hard against the ache in his eyes, and he mentally curses himself for being so pathetic. His head hangs lower when V rubs his hand on his arm over the leather jacket. 

“Can I talk?”

Johnny shrugs with a quiet grunt, still not relaxing or moving.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s see,” V takes a drag of his cigarette before he puts it out on the pavement, “shit, I know there was something, but I’ve gone and forgotten it. Gimme a minute.”

 V’s free hand taps the wet ground while he fights to think of something.

“Ah, got it. Do you think slugs are demons?”

Johnny turns his head to give him an incredulous look. What the actual fuck?

“No, no, hear me out. They both can’t stand salt, and slugs eat gardens and kill them. That could count for war, famine, and death. Pretty demonic, right?” 

“You might be more fucked up than I am,” Johnny scoffs, shakily propping his chin up on his knees as he inspects him suspiciously, “did you hit your head or something?”

V chuckles. 

“I didn’t hit my head. Or get a concussion lately any other way, the last one was over a month ago, so I’m fine. Vic’s checked me out and everything. I was just thinking about it last night is all. Couldn’t sleep with it so quiet.”

Johnny hums in understanding.

“Any other late night revelations, genius?” 

V makes a show of thinking, stroking his short beard like a pensive philosopher. 

“You want silly or serious?”

“Don’t pretend like I have a choice, you’ll just tell me anyways,” he sighs, “Get it over with.” 

V smiles, and Johnny relaxes a little more. It’s not like V can surprise him, even with them being in separate bodies now. They practically share their brain cells still, even if it seems like V might have most of them for the time being. 

“Okay, so I was thinking about you and Kerry being stupid about each other and me being stupid about you both, too. And about how, as far as I know, we all love each other,” Johnny tenses under V’s arm, “Oh, don’t go and do that, you know you do. You were literally in my brain for months, don’t try and tell me otherwise when I could feel it from you myself.”

Johnny shifts around. His legs are going numb, so he releases an arm and a leg from his death grip but keeps his other leg pulled up close.

“But it wasn’t like that with Alt,” his brow furrows as he puzzles.

“And?”

“I think I would know because I’ve felt it before? It doesn’t feel the same.”

“Well, yeah, but they’re not the same person. It’s normal for it to feel a little different. It would be kind of weird if it were all the same all the time.” 

“Hmm,” he rubs his chin with his knuckle, “maybe.” 

V lets him think and silently decide V’s right before he remembers what his point was.

“Oh, anyways, I realized that after you two work your shit out, if you both keep me around, you could probably get a great senior discount at the– ow, hey!” Johnny elbows him with a huff, “Look, it’s not my fault you guys are ancient; there’s no reason to resort to violence. I was just making an observation. You both look damn good for your age, though. Or just at all, I guess.”

V amends his statement before the compliment can go to Johnny’s head too much.

“Not so much right now, though, you’re looking somewhere between a kicked puppy and a drowned rat. It’s not the best look for you, I’m gonna be honest.”

“Yeah, sure,” Johnny snorts, “says the guy who wears neon orange on purpose.”

“Hey, do not bring orange into this, it’s innocent. You on the other hand–”

“Like hell it is, neon anything is an assault to the eyes. It’s a miracle Kerry and I can ever stand to look at you with that fashion sense.”

V gives him a look of disapproval.

“Joking, damn. Not all your outfits are so awful. The samurai shirts look almost decent on you, even if I look better in them.” 

“Ehhh, might be biased, but Kerry looks the best, sorry not sorry.”

Johnny thinks back to this morning, a little under two hours ago, he guesses. The black tour shirt pushed up around Kerry’s forearms and wide neck revealing his marks from the night before. The shirt slipping slightly to one side where it’s stretched from years of wear and tear. He swallows hard. 

“Yeah, he does.”

V takes his arm from around Johnny’s shoulders and stands up to offer Johnny a hand.

“Ready to go back?”

“Nope.”

“Come on, up you get,” he extends his hands to Johnny, but Johnny swats him away and stands on his own with a sigh, “I’m bringing you back before dark, so you’ve got to come with me willingly or not. I’m not above putting you in the trunk if that’s what it takes to get you out of the rain. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise. You’re miserable enough already without catching a cold.” 

Johnny adjusts V’s leather jacket across his shoulders, it’s baggy to accommodate all V’s cyberware, but it’s still a little small to fit over his own jacket considering their difference in height and build. No sense trying to pull it on properly.

“And you won’t catch it yourself?”

“Please, you know I won’t,” V scoffs as he climbs into his burgundy and gold Shion Mz2, “all the chrome keeps me running hot, not to mention the benefits of youth. Let’s go. Hop on in.”

Johnny opens the passenger door, but he doesn’t get in yet.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, just get in, loser, we’re going shopping.” 

Johnny gives him a baffled look, and V raises an eyebrow in return. He gets in the car with a dumbfounded look.

“We are? And how the fuck do you know about that movie?”

“No, I’ve got nothing to buy unless there’s something you want. Just thought it’d get you in the car cause you’re nosey. What movie?” V glances at him, confused, as he pulls the car back onto the road. 

Johnny groans in exasperation, unable to tell if V is serious or fucking with him. Maybe he and Kerry really are senior citizens.

“Just forget it. Nevermind.” 

They drive at a snail’s pace around the winding road, and V doesn’t bother watching Johnny stare pensively out the window.

“He called me, you know? To come get you.” 

Johnny’s brow creases.

“I don’t think he’s mad, he just wants to know you’re actually, y'know, committed. Not just playing around. Plus, he was a little worried you were gonna go on another bender like when you took over at the Afterlife. Wanted me to track you down before you went off the rails entirely.”

“I am, and I’m not.” 

“I know,” V nods in sympathy and weariness, “but he doesn’t. You need to show him you’re serious about him.”

“He doesn’t want that anymore.”

“Yes, he does.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow.

“And you know that because?”

“Cause I’m not as much of an idiot as you are about him? And I have eyes? And what’s clearly not-so-common sense?” 

Johnny scoffs and flips him off, and V returns the favor. Johnny shakes his head with a small smile.

“Fine, have it your way, genius. Take me back home.”

Chapter Text

There’s at least a dozen packages stacked by the entrance entrance when they make it back, but they don’t take time to inspect them beyond a perfunctory scan to rule out a security threat. When Johnny pushes open the front door to the villa, he hears the swell of music, trumpets rising and falling from further back in the house. What is that song? It sounds familiar. Their footsteps echo as he and V walk across the cool marble floor towards the living room, sparing a second to throw their coats over the barstools in the kitchen with a wet flop. Johnny seriously considers turning around when he crosses into the glare of the TV projector bathing the hall in hazy light, but his excuses dry up as Kerry’s voice floats over the loud music. Even with his slurred speech, he’s like a siren luring Johnny in for all he can help his feet moving towards the sound. 

“It had to be you…” 

Johnny can hear the tap of fingers on the leather sofa and a swift movement of glass on the table as he leans against the corner of the hall to watch. He goes unnoticed by Kerry for now, but V gives him a knowing smile. Kerry joins the next line a little late as the bottle returns to the hard surface with a soft clank. 

“Some others I’ve seen might never be mean, might never be cross, try to be boss, they wouldn’t doooo,” Kerry’s head wobbles as if to emphasize the lyrics, “For nobody else gave me a thrill. For all your faults, I love ya still–”

Johnny walks into his field of vision with an eyebrow raised as Kerry reaches for another drink. He grabs the bottle from him and puts it back down before he joins in for the last line. Johnny’s voice is thick and rough in comparison to Kerry’s smooth rumble, speaking rather than actually singing.

“It had to be you, wonderful you,”  Kerry’s voice drops out when he sees the look in Johnny’s eyes. He finishes on his own, voice barely audible over the loud music.

 “Had to be you.” 

Tense silence follows as the last of the instrumental fades out, leaving Johnny and Kerry staring wordlessly daring the other to speak first. V breaks the quiet for them.

“Hiya, Ker,” V steps out of the dark with a little wave, and Kerry lights up like a Christmas tree.

“V!” Kerry sits up halfway in a clumsy ark before flopping back onto the couch. His words come out in a drunken drawl, “Was gonna come to you, but maybe you should come to me instead. Could use some support for whatever bullshit he’s about to tell me. Did you know he ran away from me? Again? Fucking rude.”

Johnny crosses his arms as he watches him walk over to plop down next to Kerry.

“That’s why I’m here, remember? I’m gonna make sure you two work it out this time.”

“Hmmm, good. Someone’s gotta keep him in check. Ooo, can I get him a leash?” 

“You know I’m right here, right?” Johnny shakes his head, but V snickers behind his hand, “Plus, I think you ordered enough stuff for one night. Seriously, what more could you possibly need?”

“Hey, I might have everything, but you don’t. If you don’t try every last thing I very thoughtfully picked out, I’ll shun you. You’re really, reeeeaaaally lucky you look so fuckin’ pretty in your glasses, or I might’ve done it anyways. I could still change my mind, though. You’d better have a damn good explanation.”

“You’re either drunker than I thought or going senile, but sure, I’ll talk. I–” 

“Wait, wait, I don’t want to miss the movie lemme pause it…” Kerry looks around with a baffled expression, “Where the fuck is the remote?”

“Kiroshis, Ker.” 

“Shit, right. Thanks.” 

He looks a little embarrassed when his eyes light up and the movie pauses.  Johnny glances at the screen. It’s an old rom-com from the late 80s, early 90s, he can’t remember the year exactly.

“Watching your favorite, huh? I still don’t get why you like this one so much. Makes me want to throw something watching them go in circles.”

“You’re telling me,” V scoffs, “Quit procrastinating and come sit down.”

Johnny would love to argue and keep it up, but he settles for a half-hearted glare. He sits down on the other side of Kerry, legs propped up on the table angled towards Kerry and V. His metal arm brushes against Kerry’s silk robe where it’s fallen loose, flowing over his shoulders and arms but leaving him mostly bare. Johnny’s eyes follow his marks again, and he doesn’t have to look up to know V’s doing the same. Kerry shifts in his seat. The robe slips a little further off his shoulder, but Johnny gently pulls it back up. Kerry hums in appreciation.

“That’s nice. It’s too fucking hot in here, gimme your hand,” he reached clumsily for Johnny’s chrome hand where it still hovers at his shoulder.

“I think it’s just you; you’ve always been hot. Can’t even count the number of times you’ve stripped and passed out when you’ve been drinking, you gonk. Better not have alcohol poisoning again. We’re getting too old for that shit.”

He allows Kerry to use his hand as an icepack anyway. Kerry’s eyes close, hand still holding Johnny’s wrist as he slides it gently from his forehead, to his cheeks, to the back of his neck. His thumb brushes up against the short soft hair as Kerry rests the weight of his head on his hand. Kerry manages to fall unconscious remarkably fast now that he isn’t worried about supporting himself. Unconscious or otherwise unresponsive considering he’s dead-silent. He’s never really been one to stay quiet for long. Johnny glances up to see V looking between them with a glimmer in his eyes that he returns with a roll of his own.

“Shut it, V,” he whispers with a quirk of a smile as he turns back to look at Kerry reclined over his hand, “not a word.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he laughs quietly and leans in closer to them, “Is he really asleep? I’ve never seen him pass out that fast.”

“Oh, yeah, he loves to find me drunk off his ass and pass out on me, keep me from going anywhere cause he can’t stand being the only one roasting. Always had to drag me into it too.” 

“Never just put him to bed with a trashcan nearby or anything?”

“Nah.”

“Cause you loooove hiiiim,” V waggles his eyebrows, “Come on, just say it.”

Johnny looks between Kerry’s sleeping face and V’s expectant smile nervously, bouncing his leg a couple times before 

“I…” 

Kerry readjusts in his seat with a frown, careful to not dislodge his head from his makeshift pillow. He doesn’t bother opening his eyes when he speaks to them.

“Don’t force him. If he’s gonna say it, I want it to be real.”

“But–”

“Please, just leave it. For me.”

V sighs, but Johnny is focused on Kerry’s head on his palm, brushing the hair back from his forehead with the knuckles of his other hand. It’s soft but could use a wash, neither of them had a shower after last night’s activities. He cups the side of his face in his hand, lifting his head up to meet him in a kiss. Johnny feels rather than sees Kerry’s face lift, eyebrows raising in surprise, as his mouth moves with his own. His lips are soft. He tastes strongly of cognac and a little cinnamon sugar from his dessert. Kerry’s hands pull him in by the waist and card through his hair, wanting more, but Johnny keeps the slide of their lips slow and intense. It is as much a kiss as a confession, truth silently spilled in the motion of their mouths. 

Eventually, they have to break for air, but Johnny doesn’t go far. He rests his head against Kerry’s as they breathe into each other, still tasting the cognac on his breath. He licks his lips, chasing the taste, and opens his eyes. Kerry is flushed, lips glistening with spit, and his eyelashes flutter slightly before he looks back at Johnny with blown pupils. His heart flips in his chest when Kerry smiles contently. Fuck.

“Are you going to remember anything I say in the morning?”

“Hmmm, does it matter? You can just tell me again.”

“I guess you’re right,” Johnny chuckles breathily, “I can just tell you again.”

He hesitates, struck with the insane thought that he’s a little scared. He’s never been scared with him before, not like this. 

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure. I thought you didn’t have any more,” Kerry pouts, “Can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“Well, I’m trying now. Can I tell you?”

“Anything, always. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Johnny steals himself.

“I love you, Kerry. I’m in love with you,” his brows furrow slightly as he takes a deep breath, “and I have been for a long time.”

It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop, the only sound coming from their quiet breaths before a loud clap cuts through the stillness. Johnny swears. 

“What the fuck?!”

“Quit fucking with me! I’m not gonna sit and listen to you spewing pretty words at me cause you want something just for you to go fuck off with someone else an hour later. I’m not doing that shit any more, so save it. Quit lying or get the fuck out.”

“I’m not. I, uh,” he rubs his jaw, still tingling from the slap, “I mean it.”

“You what?”

Johnny feels his stomach twisting into knots the longer Kerry stares stunned. He inhales shakily.

“I love you.” 

“You’re not just screwing with me?” Kerry eyes him with disbelief, but his growing smile gives him away, “You actually mean it?”

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Then get back over here, dumbass.” 

Kerry beams and pulls Johnny in. This kiss isn’t like the last. It isn’t like any they’ve shared over the years, and there have been plenty. It’s not perfect. It’s not fireworks, exactly, not some explosion any more than they always have been, but it’s warm. Natural, he thinks, the way Kerry climbs onto his lap, hips rocking into his own gently. Natural like the sun rises and sets. Like it’s supposed to be like this, should always be, with his hand threading through Kerry’s hair while he moans into his mouth. He still tastes faintly of cognac. Johnny eases off the kiss, much to Kerry’s annoyance.

“Did I say you could stop?”

“No,” Johnny huffs, “but you’re too drunk right now. And I’m not drunk enough for it to even out.” 

“So hurry up and get drunk then, damn. Here,” Kerry clumsily grabs the bottle without looking.

“I think I’d rather remember this if you don’t mind. One of us should.”

Kerry frowns when Johnny doesn’t let him start another makeout and instead grabs the mostly empty bottle from his hands to put it back down. V snorts a laugh, reminding Kerry of his continued presence, and he gets a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“What about you, V? You can’t tell me you don’t want me,” he loosens his robe, and it slips off his shoulders to pool on Johnny’s lap. Johnny and V’s eyes run along his skin as he leans his upper body towards V, coaxing him in with an arm around his shoulders, “Come on, babe, it’s been too fucking long. Don’t neglect me. Just one kiss?”

Johnny and V eye him with the same suspicious smile, but V leans in nonetheless, glancing between his eyes and lips.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt, but Johnny’s right. Just a quick one for now.”

Johnny watches Kerry try to wear down V’s resolve with every lick into his mouth, and he feels his own being tested when Kerry rubs against him. He gives them a minute before threading a hand through Kerry’s hair and separating him from V who chases the kiss before he remembers otherwise. 

With the hand rooted in his hair, Kerry is forced to bare his neck and behave, but he resists anyways, squirming on Johnny’s lap until he’s held in place. He breathes heavily as his eyes track down to the hands on his hips working together to keep him contained with one hand each, Johnny’s cold chrome and V’s thermal implants a stark contrast on his skin. Fuck, if he doesn’t think it’s hot how strong they are, holding him still like it’s nothing. They don’t even have to try, but their grips stay so remarkably gentle. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He could die from want, but he has a feeling they’re not going to budge.

“So…” he tries to squirm again, but he’s still held immobile, “how about a compromise?”

Johnny and V have one of those weird, unspoken conversations before they turn their attention back to him. Good. He smiles with all the innocence of a devil on your shoulder and bats his lashes. Johnny huffs, but Kerry knows it’s working on them when Johnny taps his fingers and V adjusts his grip on his hip. 

“Alright,” Johnny raises his eyebrows in appraisal, “Let’s hear it.”

“Can we just touch each other? Maybe suck each other off?” Kerry whines, “Come on..”

V nods to Johnny.

“How about we take you to bed? It’s getting late.” 

“Nooo,” Kerry protests, but they ignore him, lifting him up to standing with them. They loosen their grips once he’s upright, but they don’t take their hands off him. He’s not even that drunk any more, more relaxed than wasted, but he’s not going to complain about the special treatment. He puts a little extra sway into his hips and ascends the stairs just ahead of them. When he glances back, they’re definitely looking, but neither of them makes a move. 

“You two are no fucking fun tonight,” he pouts as they head down the hall and into his  bedroom. “Why don’t you want me like I want you anymore? Just look at me.”

He crawls onto the center of the bed and stretches out with his chest and arms down and ass up. Johnny and V round the bed on either side of him while they check him out. They sigh in tandem. 

“We want you, too, we just shouldn’t do this with all of us the first time drunk,” V’s hand cards through his hair soothingly, “It wouldn’t be right, and I know you’ll want to remember it.” 

Johnny’s cold hand traces the arch of his back all the way down his thighs before going back up to squeeze his hip.

“Work with us, here. Promise we’ll make it worth the trouble, you’ve just got to take it easy for now.“

“How am I supposed to relax like this?” Kerry groans, “I’m too horny to sleep, so you need to take some responsibility for once in your life.” 

Johnny’s hand tightens on his hip as he takes a deep breath. He gives V a look, telling his directions with a nod of the head. V loses his clothes and climbs up to the head of the bed to sit at the headboard, and Johnny gets on edge behind Kerry. He squeezes his hip again before he gives him a pat.

“Flip over.”

“No, I’m not moving till you help me. I’m comfy enough here, just do something.”

“Fine, have it your way.” 

Johnny flips him by his hips, and Kerry exhales sharply as he lands on his back between V’s legs. He looks hungrily at V above and Johnny below him before he’s pulled up against V’s chest by his arms wrapped around his waist. Johnny sheds his wet clothes and crawls up the bed to them, picking up Kerry’s legs to hook them over V’s. His hands slide over his warm thighs as he leans in close, stopping just before their lips meet. Kerry tries to close the distance, but V’s arms hold him back. He pouts.

“Aren’t you supposed to love me? You’re not acting like it when you’re not–”

Johnny rolls his eyes but cuts him off with a filthy kiss, hand cupping his jaw to keep him in place. Kerry wraps his arms around his shoulders to try to pull him closer as he moans into his mouth, but Johnny is only keeping him distracted while V grabs the lube. He pulls back when V’s hand wraps around Kerry’s cock, and Kerry moans pathetically. V gives him a few strokes before holding the hand out for Johnny who shuffles within reach. V inspects his piercings before lubing him up, raising an eyebrow that Johnny returns with an amused shrug and a thrust into his hand. V shakes his head with a smile, and he presses a kiss to Kerry’s neck.

“We’re gonna touch you, but you’ve got to be good and stay still. Can you do that for us, love?”

Kerry quietly whines as Johnny frots against Kerry twice, hand wrapping halfway around both their cocks. Johnny tilts his head in question.

“Kerry? We need an answer, or we stop.”

“Hmm?” He looks sluggishly between V and Johnny with a content smile.

“Do you still want to get off before you go to sleep?”

Kerry hums again, brows furrowing in consideration. 

“Yeah, but don’t drag it out. We have plenty of time to do whatever crazy shit you two came up with in your brains together when I’m not so tired. Just give me a hand and stop wasting time asking me questions like either of you have made a decent choice in your life before a few months ago.”

V laughs at Johnny’s mildly taken-aback expression.

“Fine, whatever you want, your lordship. Damn.” He shakes off his astonishment with an amused glint in his eye.

They don’t make him wait any more. V’s hand joins Johnny’s to wrap around his and Kerry’s cocks while Johnny starts to move. He frots against him, piercings rubbing against the sensitive underside of Kerry’s cock, and Kerry grabs V’s forearm tightly. His breath grows more and more ragged as they work in tandem to please him, hands sliding over skin and mouths murmuring praises into the peaceful quiet of the house. He doesn’t last long with their lips brushing against him, telling him all the filthy plans they have for him when he’s less pissed and more sober. 

“Come on, baby, you’re so close I can feel it,” V’s hand speeds up, “Why don’t you cum and paint us a pretty picture?”

Johnny lifts Kerry’s chin from where it’s dropped to his heaving chest to get a better look at his flushed face. Kerry’s pants puff hot against his skin. 

“Please, I. Fuck, I’m close, please–”

Johnny watches his expression as he orders him. 

“Show us, Kerry. Now.”

Kerry obeys less than a minute later with a gasp followed by a string of swears, painting their hands and his stomach in spend. Johnny finishes moments after with a jerk of the hand, adding to the mess with a groan, as V watches intently over Kerry’s shoulder. He lifts his hand from Kerry’s cock to drag through their shared cum before raising it to his lips with a pleased hum. Kerry and Johnny watch intently, still dazed from their recent orgasms. 

“Mmm, you pair well,” V smirks as he pulls his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop, “you should clean him up, J.”

He drags his fingers through the mess, bringing some up to Johnny. He leans towards his hand, glancing between him and Kerry, but he pauses just before his lips make contact. A thick drop lands on Kerry’s hip. 

“Do you need…” Johnny glances down around where V’s dick is standing hard behind Kerry’s back with a swallow, “I can help.” 

V considers him.

“Nah, I’ll wait till morning. He’ll be pissed if he misses it.” 

“You know I can hear you guys, right?” Kerry huffs, “And I’ll probably be pissed in the morning still either way. Just too drunk to give a damn right now when you’re both so fucking hot. And I missed you. Assholes.”

Johnny figures that’s fair enough.

“Believe me, I know, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. You can scream your lungs out in the morning, but let’s get you clean for now. Get some sleep.” 

“Damn right, I will.” Kerry scoots further down the bed to lay down, legs awkwardly sprawled across the bed between V’s and Johnny’s, “Go on.” 

Johnny wraps his lips around V’s fingers, cleaning his hand before working on Kerry’s stomach. Their cum is cool in comparison to his warm body against his tongue as he diligently laves at the salty skin. He does his best to make eye contact first with Kerry then V as he slowly leans back up. Kerry’s eyes are clouded with a heady combination of lust, alcohol, and sleep, but V watches him like a hawk, his gaze almost predatory as it flits down to inspect his work. He nods approvingly and motions vaguely.

“Help me arrange him, and we can all lay down, yeah?” V slides out from behind him, and they pull him up onto the pillows. He grunts as they pull the blanket out from under him and drape it over him before Johnny climbs into bed by his side. V hesitates, but when Johnny gives him an “are you kidding me” look, he climbs in on his other side and settles down.

Johnny rolls to face Kerry and V. V leans over a barely-awake Kerry with a smile, quietly observing, before pulling him against his chest and planting a kiss on his cheek. Kerry makes a quiet sound in acknowledgement. Cute. Johnny fails to stop his own soft smile at the both of them, and he’s a little relieved Kerry isn’t more sober because he’d never hear the end of it. It’ll go right to his head when he realizes how whipped he’s got him. Johnny’s totally fucked, but he can’t find it in himself to care right now. He scoots closer, brushing hair from Kerry’s face and giving him a quick kiss on the forehead before he drapes his chrome arm over them both. Kerry cracks open an eye with amusement and suspicion.

“You’re sweet, but I’m still pretty mad at you.” 

Johnny and V’s smiles widen into matching grins.

“I know,” he gives him another gentle kiss, “Stay mad for all I care, it’s pretty hot, but you’re sleeping first. Can’t add fuel to the fire if it’s out.”

“Fine, but don’t think you’re running away again. V’ll get you if I don’t, so don’t even try.”

“I know, I’m as stuck with you two as you are with me. Now, go to sleep.”

Kerry shifts slightly in their arms, getting settled in with a huff.

“Goodnight. Love you, dorks.” 

Johnny and V reply with a “love you too, Ker” nearly in sync, and Kerry nearly immediately falls asleep, starting to faintly snore. V giggles, but Johnny shushes him and gives him a pinch on the side with the arm thrown over them. 

“Ow, rude,” V hisses.

“You’ll live.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, pretty sure,” he adjusts his head on the pillow next to Kerry’s with a sigh, “what about me? Am I dead?”

“That’s a matter of opinion, but I think we’ll be just fine. He’s not as mad as he says he is.” 

“Good.” 

They fall into comfortable silence while Johnny mulls everything over, and V is nearly asleep when he decides to speak again.

“How do you know it’ll be fine?”

V hums and blearily opens his eyes.

“We came back from the dead twice after storming Arasaka tower. If we can survive that, we’ll do just fine with this. Trust me.”

Johnny’s lips quirk down.

“I do.”

“I know,” V’s hand lifts his hand from Kerry’s waist to squeeze Johnny’s arm reassuringly, “Goodnight, Johnny.”

“Goodnight, V. I’ll see you on the other side.”

V drifts off, and Johnny follows shortly after, lulled to sleep by the gentle sound of his and Kerry’s breathing. The glossy floors and high walls of the villa are lit only by the lights of the city when the peaceful silence is interrupted by the buzz of a message coming from Johnny’s jacket. No one wakes up to check it. 

Come morning, once Johnny’s woken up to handle the odd assortment of packages Kerry ordered (anything from a ridiculously frilly apron to a keychain of his guitar), he checks his phone to find a message from Misty.

I knew you could do it. I’m happy for you, all of you. Don’t be a stranger. Feel free to stop by for a visit, even if you don’t need as much guidance now. I’d love to hear how it all played out. Good job and best wishes <3

He smiles to himself as he puts on the stupid frilly apron, not bothering with other clothes before he makes breakfast for them all. The smell of the food wafting through the house wakes Kerry and V, and they clumsily make their way downstairs, Kerry in underwear and some shirt he stole from Johnny before he died the first time and V in a fluffy robe. They shuffle over to either side of him in front of the stove, making it difficult to work the spatula as they lean into him appreciatively. He doesn’t mind. Kerry lets out a chuckle when he sees what Johnny’s making.

“What?” Johnny asks but doesn’t look up from the skillet, “What’re you laughing about?”

“You finally got your answer.”

V eyes them with curiosity when Kerry glances at the eggshells on the counter. Johnny sets the spatula on a spoon rest and turns to him with a baffled look.

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

Kerry laughs and declines their questions with kisses. Chickens are still real.