Oh Hi!

“Nah, nah, nah, I’m tellin’ ya, V, ‘s not what you think it was.”

“Yeah? You remember a second of it? You got so shitfaced-…”

“Oh shut it, merc.”

Kerry chuckles and gives his man a proper nudge, which turns out to be barely a poke for a chromed merc, only making him smirk wider. The boys are chilling on one of Kerry’s couches, empty beer cans on V’s side and a few finished martini glasses on the other — Kerry’s always had a thing for drinking the same type of cocktails out of different glasses if that was an option instead of simply refilling them. There’s a fond, almost goofy smile on the older man’s face as he can finally spend some proper time with his precious cutie patootie input, and despite it being nothing special, just an ordinary date, he can’t help beaming at the man. The more they see each other, the more pleasure their conversations bring him, which is a breath of fresh air by itself, not to mention an uncharted territory since usually he’d rather not engage too much in the emotional, touchy-feely stuff outside of his own rambling and concerns. Yet every time they meet, V’s got a new story to tell, and Kerry actually finds himself eager to listen. Somehow so intimate yet so trivial.

Not just casual humping (at least not every time), no basic mutual complaining or boring how-are-you-doing type of exchanges, but a raw, utterly human experience.

Nibbles is sitting near V’s leg, casually cleaning her paw with a disinterested look, though the purring she emits makes the couch vibrate slightly, the corners of V’s mouth twitching upwards at the display. His hand moves to give her a few gentle pets, the expression on his face making Kerry chuckle.

“What, don’t I get any gushing over? Not good enough for ya?”

“More like not stinky enough. Don’ worry, you’re gettin’ there,” V leans down for a moment, sniffing the top of Nibbles’s head, his nose wrinkling, “d’ya know if we should give ‘er a shower..? Or is she supposed to smell like that?..”

The sight of the notorious V being a doted feline caretaker is utterly amusing, yet Kerry decides not to comment on it, not wishing to spook the moment — the merc’s cute in this state, he’d rather enjoy it while it lasts.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, this type of stink is natural for them. Trust me, you’ll know when it’s time to take action. Cats are more, eh… hygienic like that I guess. Self-cleaning and shit. So yeah, our lady here is doing marvelous, don’t you worry, single dad.”

“Single?..”

“…Well, technically, we’re not married yet.”

“…yet, huh?” That's when Kerry actually cracks up a notch and gives his man an unimpressed look, though it’s mostly in jest.

“Stop it.”

The expression on V’s face is usually hard to read as he has that trademark merc glare most of the time, seemingly out of habit, but at the moment it’s surprisingly serene, happy even, definitely a positive influence on the both of them. Kerry’s hand reaches out to caress his cheek, eyes squinting in a sly, somewhat mischievous manner.

“Shit. I love your gruff looks and attitude, but seeing you relaxed on a downtime, chillin’ here and all… it’s cute. Nice change o’ pace. It suits ya.”

V doesn’t mind the affectionate gesture, on the contrary, he leans into it, and even though he doesn’t like it when something’s close to his eyes, he’s enjoying the warmth of his man’s hand. Rough fingertips tracing the pieces of his cyberware.

“Never thought I’d hear that word about myself. But eh… heheh, thanks. Still not used to… y’know. Relaxin’ an’ all that.”

“No shit. Years of busting your ass would do that to ya. Don’ worry, you can always drop everything and become my boytoy, I got ‘nough eddies for the both of us~”

At first, V gives him the look, but it softens in mere seconds as he’s well aware it’s a joke. He even crosses his arms on his chest, somehow both entertained and annoyed.

“You already paid for my trauma team premium, Ker. Even though I specifically told you no-…”

“Guilty,” Kerry raises his arms in the air in a defeated gesture, a bit more serious this time around, “but for real, V, can you blame me? I got the eddies to provide my input with extra protection so he doesn’t bleed out somewhere nasty, and I’m supposed to just not do it? Nah, man, this won’t do. B’sides, not like it’s makin’ a hole in my pocket, I could buy you a whole ass AV, shit, a battalion of ‘em! So don’ ya go pout ‘bout it, it’s a gift! Don’t look a gift horse in the eyes or some shit!”

V chuckles at that, finding Kerry’s attempts to defend himself amusing, but after all, he is grateful for it, especially considering that Kerry’s stubborn enough to not listen to him when it’s a safety matter. It could be infuriating at times, and even hot when the mood is right, but overall it’s appreciated. Kerry’s own well-being? Eh, he’s already spoiled rotten, he’ll live one way or another. V’s health and safety? Top priority.

Kerry snickers as if he can read minds, and though at the moment V’s emotions are written all over his face, it’s hard not to tease him further:

“I could always buy ya some fancy lingerie to walk around all pretty, like a present to be unwrapped~ You could wear it as a thank you for my kindness”

V gives him the most skeptical, disappointed and straight up annoyed look he can muster at the moment, which only spurs Kerry on further.

“Or I could buy you a whole fuckin’ set o’ things. Leather harness, lacy sets, fishnet stockings… All ganic! Some fancy-shiny collar with a leash to take you on walks. What d’ya think? Anythin’ tinglin’?~”

“Kerry.”

“‘Lright, ‘lright, don’ get your panties in a twist, I’m just messin’ with ya~”

Kerry’s cheeks are slightly flushed with alcohol, creating more contrast between his actual skin tone and his freckles, and he chuckles under his breath, seemingly pondering something.

“Y’know, you’re the first person that actually survived a year with me without incidents. I know, shocking, ‘cause I’m so easy to deal with, but yeah, I usually get bored of people pretty quickly.”

Translating from Kerry language it means “I love you, and I appreciate having you in my life”, so that alone brings a little smile back to V’s face. His arm wraps around his input’s shoulders, giving him a proper, affectionate squeeze, and his hand moves to caress his upper arm, enjoying the skin texture. All while Kerry’s head rests on his shoulder, “Guess that means I’m not boring. I’ll take it as a compliment, especially coming from the great Kerry Eurodyne himself~”

The Kerry in question smiles at that, his eyes twinkling with amusement, which makes them look oddly scheming, like he’s up to no good. But it all quickly disappears once he relaxes, now simply observing his man with a soft, somewhat condescending demeanour.

“Damn right you’re not boring, in fact, you’re anythin’ but,” his hand carefully slides up into V’s short hair, stroking them, rubbing the scalp with his fingertips as he admires his man’s handsome face, savouring the sight, while also feeling proud of himself for having landed such a hot guy, and it gives him an idea, “bet ya only fell for my looks and money, didn’t ya?~”

They both know it’s just another one of Kerry’s quips, but V can’t help “indulging” him: “Naturally. Your ass is flat as fuck though, you better work on that if ya want me t’stay. No offence, just sayin’.”

The way Kerry’s face immediately changes almost makes V crack up right there on the spot.

“Wha-… Not like yours is much better!”

That’s when the merc finally gives in and actually laughs, his smile turning into a grin. The thing is, just a couple of days ago they were exchanging their workout routines with Kerry complaining he can’t get a proper six pack no matter how hard he tries, genetics be damned, and that includes his rockerbum — gaining muscle mass is a true challenge for him, and V’s well aware of that fact. All while V is a walking Greek god at this point, having installed plenty of implants, along with his occupation working in his favour when it comes to maintaining an athletic body. The overall banter amuses him nonetheless.

“We both know that’s not true, Ker. Face reality~”

“Okay, you know what? I got my other assets, you dumb merc, so save it!”

V does his best to feign surprise at that, going so far as to widen his eyes and open his mouth, making sure it’s right in between exaggeratedly theatrical and genuine, “You do?!”

Kerry’s hand swats at his shoulder.

“You’ve had your hands all over my freakin’ assets this past year, you gonk, I know you can’t get enough of ‘em!”

“Y’sure ‘bout it? I don’ really remember anythin’ like that.”

“I’ve got receipts, merc. Lots of ‘em.”

“Hm… You might be onto something, yeah. I remember my hands touching something really… flat. Y’know, so flat ya could play pool on it. Yeah, really… really flat.”

One of Kerry’s hands instantly darts towards his side, aiming for the ribs, and nimble fingers give it a few well-deserved scribbles. Of course, V was expecting something like that, and he easily grabs Kerry’s hand, but at what cost — the can of beer he’s been holding slips out of his grasp and falls straight onto his thigh, slightly splashing some of it in the process. The sound alerts Nibbles, and she proceeds to run away, startled by the whole ordeal, while V has that devious smirk on his face that speaks trouble. He was just given a perfect excuse.

“…Good job, Ker. Now it’s my turn.”

“Gonna hafta catch me first, gonkface,” a shit-eating grin on Kerry’s mug as he yanks his arm out of the grip, the man’s absolute definition of smug as he jolts up to his feet before V can even process what he’s up to, the invitation clear in his eyes. For a few seconds the rockerboy waits there to see if V would follow along with his initiative, and the moment the merc chuckles and starts moving, Kerry darts away, running around the couch to instantly bolt towards the other end of the villa.

“You’re so gonna get it,” after giving his man a couple seconds headstart, V jumps up to his feet, racing after him, a matching grin of his own making him look almost giddy with excitement.

Kerry straight up laughs, cutting corners, veering around furniture, occasionally tripping over stuff scattered on the floor — he can even hear a sound of something falling and breaking behind him, but it only makes him laugh even more. The sound of V’s rapid footsteps is getting closer, riling up the thrill of the chase, and he’s tempted to glance back at the merc, but he knows better, his heart is racing at the thought of his input being not far behind.

“Piss off, ya gohohonk!!”

“Fat chance!”

After sprinting upstairs, he quickly runs around the billiard table, trying to fool V and pretend that he’s changing direction, but yelps when he finds the man smirking at him from its other side, now both of them staring at each other with matching amusement. Kerry darts one way — V follows, Kerry darts the other — V’s already there, the rockerboy ends up barking out a laugh and turning around, huffing a bit from so much action, now aiming to go back down to the ground floor.

A surprised scream escapes him as two strong arms wrap around his midriff from behind, the sound he makes instantly bringing a barely noticeable flush to his face while he laughs, struggling in his man’s hold — all for shits and giggles of course. His vicious assailant is grinning from ear to ear, definitely proud of himself, and leans down a notch, easily throwing Kerry over his shoulder, the superior merc strength getting the best of the squirming singer, carrying him with ease.

“Put me down!! V!” His words are filled with shameless laughter, and all he gets in response to his plea is a playful smack on the ass, making him twitch and gasp in surprise, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he’s lazily wriggling around, “Ya dickhead!!”

“Yeah, go on, flail some more so I can drop ya and pretend it was an accident~”

He laughs, giving Kerry's rear another slap, rather gentle by his standards, the silly grin not leaving his face even for a second.

“Oops!” V suddenly flinches, pretending to be about to drop his dork of a man, but quickly straightens back up, smug as ever.

“ACK! Vincent!!” Kerry yelps, holding onto the merc’s hips for dear life, and smacks him on the shoulders with a playful glare, “You bastard! You better not drop me!”

The next thing Kerry knows is that he’s tossed onto his own bed, landing on his back with a loud “oof”, some air getting knocked out of his lungs, and even though he gives V another disapproving glare, it lacks any actual menace as here he is — lying down about to get fucked straight into the bedding by his resilient, steaming hot input. Tomorrow his lower back is going to be sore as hell, but it’s so worth it, therefore a bit of roughhousing is appreciated in this context. That’s until he meets V’s eyes full of sly cheerfulness — definitely not the look he has when he’s about to pound Kerry’s brains out. The slight panic appearing on the rockerboy’s face only entertains the merc further.

“W-Wait, V, what are ya-…” In a matter of seconds Kerry feels a whole ass barrage of wiggling fingers on his sides, and a loud, obnoxious laugh bursts out of his throat — he wasn’t expecting it at all. The man gives his input the most baffled, indignant diva look he can possibly achieve while his hands dart up to grab V’s wrists, pushing them away for mere moments before they return, continuing the outrageous act.

“V!! You know I hate that shit!! Oh you fuckin’ asshole, when I get away I’ll-… Pffft-hahaha!! You’re dehehead!!”

He is kind of disappointed that the whole thing wasn’t about sex, but he’s laughing so much he can’t spare a second to think about it. The Kerry Eurodyne is kicking his feet against the mattress nonstop in a laughing fit, his cackles filling the area to the brim while he’s thrashing around, his cheeks already flushing once again. V’s sitting near, a big, kind of goofy smirk on his face, both hands busy forcing all kinds of noises out of his input for his own entertainment, but he can tell that Kerry doesn’t actually mind it either — otherwise he would’ve been way less reactive and definitely grouchier than he is now. Of course, he’s always been ridiculously ticklish, so his laughing fit is a predictable reaction, but V knows him well enough to read his moods, so, strangely, Kerry seems to be having fun as well. Probably because he’s in his natural habitat — bottoming. Not to mention that the sight is way too sweet for V to stop his merciless assault.

Unable to resist the temptation to tease him further, V snickers, speaking in a taunting, borderline cooing voice, the one he absolutely loves using to ruffle Kerry’s feathers, “Caught myself a ticklish input, didn’t I? Wonder what should I do with him~”

Kerry snarls and hisses, trying to hold back his giggles at least for a while, but soon enough realises that it’s no use — the merc’s hands are cold as hell, fingers digging into his sides and now also stomach, making him writhe and squirm like a fish out of water, hearty laughter pouring out of him nonstop, yet he’s still trying to speak:

“Shuhuhut it!! You diIICK!! Ahaha!! Stahahp it already!! It fuckin’ tickles!!”

“That’s strange, considerin’ I’m ticklin’ ya.” He chuckles at his own retort, voice oozing with sarcasm and filled with obvious pride at having managed to reduce his poor man to such a state. Any attempts of getting away are prosecuted by extra tickles, making Kerry roll onto his side and curl up into a ball — the last potential resort to get away from the impending torture. The dopey grin on his face is gradually getting wider, making him look even more ridiculous, and by extension adorable in V’s eyes, he can’t get enough of it.

To his surprise, one of Kerry’s hands manages to weasel itself towards his side, now actively clawing and squeezing it with all his strength, clearly trying to get him back for the atrocious acts, but unfortunately for him, the badass, stolid merc seems to be barely ticklish. He does let out a couple of chuckles, twitching here and there, but that’s about it, and judging by the way he squints his eyes, after that little stunt Kerry’s done for it. V’s hands slide up, now mercilessly drilling his fingertips into his input’s ribs, knowing well enough that he absolutely can’t take it at that spot, though he’s being careful not to hurt or bruise his giggly man.

“GAHAHA NO!!” Kerry’s laughter is getting hoarser by the seconds, and he throws his head back, the corners of his eyes watering from so much guffawing, he’s a mess — dishevelled hair, sweaty forehead, signature tank top rumpled like never before, and ready to sign over his villa to V just so he’d stop, so it’s time to bring out the big guns, “V!! STOP! I’M GONNA PISS MYSELF!!”

The merc chortles, amused to no extent, not pausing his attack for a millisecond, “No yer not. Not on yer fancy blankies anyway~”

“I MEAN IT! YOU SEEN HOW MANY MARTINIS I HAD?! I’M GONNA BURST!” This remark actually gets V’s attention. At the end of the day, if it’s not a joke, and the accident does happen, Kerry’s going to have his head, rightfully so. And that’s when all of a sudden in his cackling spree Kerry lets out a loud sound, which can be described as a mix of snoring and choking.

Both of them pause, looking at each other in confusion at first, as it takes them some time to process what it was, even for Kerry, since he was too busy laughing to watch his own reactions. For V it’s particularly concerning since he’s worried that he might have accidentally hurt his man or made him laugh so much that he’s now actually having trouble breathing, but soon enough the realisation hits him — it was a snort. And when that realisation settles, the merc barks out a laugh of his own, his shoulders trembling as he leans over, shaking his head at the hilarity of it all, while Kerry flushes even more than before, the silly grin stays on his face as he can’t help enjoying himself, even despite the lingering embarrassment. V’s hands start slowly sliding off him.

“‘Iright, Ker, here ya go, ya pisshead, free as a-…” The moment V relaxes enough to let his guard down, Kerry pounces, pulling him down onto his stomach, now straddling his hips, despite still panting from all the tickling and squirming. He knows V’s stronger than him, not only naturally, but also thanks to a shitload of implants, including the famous strength enhancers, so he wastes no time. Both of his hands slide under his input’s arms, aiming to get his armpits — since V’s hardly ever ticklish, he has to go all out to get his revenge. Fingers begin scribbling against the tender skin, and Kerry lets out a joyous “Ha!”, already gloating like a little kid.

“That’s what ya get!! Who’s ticklish now, huh?! Tickle-tickle-tickle, V! Not so fun being on the receiving end, is it?!” Yet the moment he leans down to gauge his man’s reaction, his smile falters a smidge, the damn merc seems to be almost immune to his ministrations. Sure, he’s smiling, body shaking with silent giggles, but it seems like Kerry could be as well massaging or scratching his back, the reaction would’ve been the same, and he can’t help feeling just a tad bit frustrated over inability to get his well-deserved vendetta. There’s even a barely noticeable pout on his face, and he doubles down on his efforts, now fully digging his fingers into the skin, but once again — barely any reaction. By the looks of it, V’s cracking up at his failed attempts instead of the tickling itself, so in a spur of the moment Kerry lets out a displeased groan, turns around, and starts smacking V’s ass again and again, not that hard, more like playing bongo with too much enthusiasm.

“Of course you’re not ticklish, probably got some implant shoved up your ass for that too ya ‘borg!! Or what, you’re too “tough” for us mere mortals, hm? A broodin’ fuckin’ street Batman — no weaknesses, no anything, so very alpha!!”

To punctuate his words he pokes V right in the butt through his pants, and the man gasps in surprise, clearly not having expected that kind of retribution. He laughs though, and, propping himself on his hands, pushes himself up, making a very much startled Kerry slide off and flop down onto the bed with a look of surprise — his beast of an input has just easily committed a push-up with the extra weight of an entire man on top of him. Kerry can’t help feeling a slight flutter in his chest at that. But it evaporates as quickly as it appeared once V sits up, now looming over him, and Kerry instantly starts backing off before even realising it.

“C’mon, V, enough already, I’m dying here. Have some mercy, would ya? Y’know I love our tussles, but at this point I might as well cough my lungs out from laughin’ so much.”

A moment later Kerry’s on his back, once again pressed against the bedsheets by his beloved tough boy, and he’s about to glare at him, not appreciating having his requests ignored, yet a soft, lingering kiss stops him from grumbling. V’s lips are a little dry due to all the drinking and action, but they feel so warm and inviting, Kerry can’t help reciprocating, and at some point their teeth lightly clink against each other as they’re both smiling, unable to hold themselves back. They’re panting, but it’s all gradually coming down to a peaceful, relaxed moment, the bond they share making V melt on top of Kerry, though he still has to distribute his weight not to crush his diva. It feels like several weighted blankets have been stacked on the rockerboy, but he doesn’t mind, in fact, he’s all up for it, and his arms wrap around the bigger man, scratching his back and caressing the edges of his cyberware.

The shared warmth brings a smile to V’s face once again, and he can’t help himself — leaning down, he begins thoroughly planting light, tender kisses on Kerry’s face, mainly targeting his cheeks and lips. God he’s absolutely smitten with Kerry’s cheeks. The most adorable set of kissable, freckled treasures. If tonight they’re being cheesy, might as well go all out.

These little pecks continue one after another, now also targeting the tip of Kerry’s nose, taking a break to give it a careful nip, the process of spoiling a certain rockerboy and showering him with affection is going at full force. At first, Kerry’s smiling, relishing in the rare moment of tenderness, but god knows he’s not used to that at all, so soon enough he starts turning his head from one side to another, trying to avoid the barrage of love shamelessly attacking his face. All while he can’t get the smile off his face no matter how much he tries.

“Hey now, I asked you for mercy!! What’s up with you today, hm? Mistook me for a body pillow or somethin’?”

V chuckles at that, planting a softer kiss on his temple, the besotted look on his face says it all — the man is way too in love right now to actually care about a thing except his cherished babygirl.

“Nah-nah, you asked for mercy from the tickles. So no tickles for ye. Maybe. There was nothin’ ‘bout kisses an’ such. So suck it up, Eurodyne,” his words are laced with affectionate teasing, and of course it’s all in jest, yet the kisses continue, and he keeps his input pinned down underneath him, eyes glimmering with somewhat childish giddiness. He sporadically switches spots like suddenly veering from pecking Kerry’s chin to nipping his cheek, despite all the squirming and feigned complaining. His kisses become more sluggish, as if he’s either getting sleepy or way too lazy to put in a smidge of effort, and that’s when the relentlessly smothered rockerboy realises — V’s now doing it all just to annoy him further, and the thought alone is enough to make him grin. He stoically takes such unbearable torment for a few more minutes before slipping one of his arms out and covering V’s mouth with his hand, lightly pushing his head away.

“Alright, Night City legend, you’ve had your fun. Now shoo. I need some space,” the statement alone is so surprising that merc’s eyes widen, and he shakes the hand off, not bothering to hide a mix of curiosity and confusion on his face.

“Some space? You sure about that?”

Kerry lets out a little “tsk” sound and even rolls his eyes halfway through, not like he acts that way often, but his input’s perception is spot on, and the mere fact that V knows him that well makes him feel things. Mostly irritation, but other stuff too.

“Shit. I need a break from all the kissing action, got it? You can… eh… stay where you are. But yeah, gimme a breather, would ya? I’m overstimulated as fuck. Thanks to all that tickling by the way, mostly at least. Oh and I am gettin’ you back for it. ‘Cause you gotta be ticklish somewhere, I just know it. Gonk ass merc.”

The tirade only serves to amuse V further, and he clumsily sits up, rolling his shoulders just to get rid of some leftover stiffness. The alcohol seems to have worn off for now, and he blinks a few times, as if seeing the world in new colours. When his eyes meet Kerry’s he snickers, voice laced with disbelief once he speaks up.

“Why are you so eager to get me back?”

“‘Cause that would be fair. Oh and so I can get you fucking squealing that’s why, you smug ass bastard. You deserve getting taken down a peg, and I’m gonna deliver, pretty boy. You’re getting tickled.”

V actually splutters with laughter at that as Kerry looks so determined and confident that it only adds up to the ridiculousness of it all, like he’s on some dire conquest against him. It’s actually hard to say whether he’s joking or being one hundred percent serious due to a mix of petulance and stubbornness on his face, so V chooses to take it in jest and opens his mouth to say something, but that’s when he hears Nibbles’s claws pitter-pattering across the floor, and freezes for a moment.

“Oh shit,” he hastily stands up, awkwardly fixing his clothes while noticing Kerry’s confused look, “you knocked over an empty whiskey bottle while running, better clean it up before Nibbles steps on it and hurts herself. Or you do, for that matter.”

The last comment actually brings a fond smile to Kerry’s face, the care in V’s voice is palpable and appreciated, plus he’s kind of glad that he’s not going to be the one to deal with the mess. Before he leaves, V leans down, planting a soft kiss on top of Kerry’s head — just the right spot not to overstimulate further and to show affection.

“And for the record, yeah, I am ticklish, but squealing? No fuckin’ way. That’s your department~”

“Eat shit.”

“Love ya too, Ker~”

“Nah, nah, nah, I’m tellin’ ya, V, ‘s not what you think it was.”

“Yeah? You remember a second of it? You got so shitfaced-…”

“Oh shut it, merc.”

Kerry chuckles and gives his man a proper nudge, which turns out to be barely a poke for a chromed merc, only making him smirk wider. The boys are chilling on one of Kerry’s couches, empty beer cans on V’s side and a few finished martini glasses on the other — Kerry’s always had a thing for drinking the same type of cocktails out of different glasses if that was an option instead of simply refilling them. There’s a fond, almost goofy smile on the older man’s face as he can finally spend some proper time with his precious cutie patootie input, and despite it being nothing special, just an ordinary date, he can’t help beaming at the man. The more they see each other, the more pleasure their conversations bring him, which is a breath of fresh air by itself, not to mention an uncharted territory since usually he’d rather not engage too much in the emotional, touchy-feely stuff outside of his own rambling and concerns. Yet every time they meet, V’s got a new story to tell, and Kerry actually finds himself eager to listen. Somehow so intimate yet so trivial.

Not just casual humping (at least not every time), no basic mutual complaining or boring how-are-you-doing type of exchanges, but a raw, utterly human experience.

Nibbles is sitting near V’s leg, casually cleaning her paw with a disinterested look, though the purring she emits makes the couch vibrate slightly, the corners of V’s mouth twitching upwards at the display. His hand moves to give her a few gentle pets, the expression on his face making Kerry chuckle.

“What, don’t I get any gushing over? Not good enough for ya?”

“More like not stinky enough. Don’ worry, you’re gettin’ there,” V leans down for a moment, sniffing the top of Nibbles’s head, his nose wrinkling, “d’ya know if we should give ‘er a shower..? Or is she supposed to smell like that?..”

The sight of the notorious V being a doted feline caretaker is utterly amusing, yet Kerry decides not to comment on it, not wishing to spook the moment — the merc’s cute in this state, he’d rather enjoy it while it lasts.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, this type of stink is natural for them. Trust me, you’ll know when it’s time to take action. Cats are more, eh… hygienic like that I guess. Self-cleaning and shit. So yeah, our lady here is doing marvelous, don’t you worry, single dad.”

“Single?..”

“…Well, technically, we’re not married yet.”

“…yet, huh?” That's when Kerry actually cracks up a notch and gives his man an unimpressed look, though it’s mostly in jest.

“Stop it.”

The expression on V’s face is usually hard to read as he has that trademark merc glare most of the time, seemingly out of habit, but at the moment it’s surprisingly serene, happy even, definitely a positive influence on the both of them. Kerry’s hand reaches out to caress his cheek, eyes squinting in a sly, somewhat mischievous manner.

“Shit. I love your gruff looks and attitude, but seeing you relaxed on a downtime, chillin’ here and all… it’s cute. Nice change o’ pace. It suits ya.”

V doesn’t mind the affectionate gesture, on the contrary, he leans into it, and even though he doesn’t like it when something’s close to his eyes, he’s enjoying the warmth of his man’s hand. Rough fingertips tracing the pieces of his cyberware.

“Never thought I’d hear that word about myself. But eh… heheh, thanks. Still not used to… y’know. Relaxin’ an’ all that.”

“No shit. Years of busting your ass would do that to ya. Don’ worry, you can always drop everything and become my boytoy, I got ‘nough eddies for the both of us~”

At first, V gives him the look, but it softens in mere seconds as he’s well aware it’s a joke. He even crosses his arms on his chest, somehow both entertained and annoyed.

“You already paid for my trauma team premium, Ker. Even though I specifically told you no-…”

“Guilty,” Kerry raises his arms in the air in a defeated gesture, a bit more serious this time around, “but for real, V, can you blame me? I got the eddies to provide my input with extra protection so he doesn’t bleed out somewhere nasty, and I’m supposed to just not do it? Nah, man, this won’t do. B’sides, not like it’s makin’ a hole in my pocket, I could buy you a whole ass AV, shit, a battalion of ‘em! So don’ ya go pout ‘bout it, it’s a gift! Don’t look a gift horse in the eyes or some shit!”

V chuckles at that, finding Kerry’s attempts to defend himself amusing, but after all, he is grateful for it, especially considering that Kerry’s stubborn enough to not listen to him when it’s a safety matter. It could be infuriating at times, and even hot when the mood is right, but overall it’s appreciated. Kerry’s own well-being? Eh, he’s already spoiled rotten, he’ll live one way or another. V’s health and safety? Top priority.

Kerry snickers as if he can read minds, and though at the moment V’s emotions are written all over his face, it’s hard not to tease him further:

“I could always buy ya some fancy lingerie to walk around all pretty, like a present to be unwrapped~ You could wear it as a thank you for my kindness”

V gives him the most skeptical, disappointed and straight up annoyed look he can muster at the moment, which only spurs Kerry on further.

“Or I could buy you a whole fuckin’ set o’ things. Leather harness, lacy sets, fishnet stockings… All ganic! Some fancy-shiny collar with a leash to take you on walks. What d’ya think? Anythin’ tinglin’?~”

“Kerry.”

“‘Lright, ‘lright, don’ get your panties in a twist, I’m just messin’ with ya~”

Kerry’s cheeks are slightly flushed with alcohol, creating more contrast between his actual skin tone and his freckles, and he chuckles under his breath, seemingly pondering something.

“Y’know, you’re the first person that actually survived a year with me without incidents. I know, shocking, ‘cause I’m so easy to deal with, but yeah, I usually get bored of people pretty quickly.”

Translating from Kerry language it means “I love you, and I appreciate having you in my life”, so that alone brings a little smile back to V’s face. His arm wraps around his input’s shoulders, giving him a proper, affectionate squeeze, and his hand moves to caress his upper arm, enjoying the skin texture. All while Kerry’s head rests on his shoulder, “Guess that means I’m not boring. I’ll take it as a compliment, especially coming from the great Kerry Eurodyne himself~”

The Kerry in question smiles at that, his eyes twinkling with amusement, which makes them look oddly scheming, like he’s up to no good. But it all quickly disappears once he relaxes, now simply observing his man with a soft, somewhat condescending demeanour.

“Damn right you’re not boring, in fact, you’re anythin’ but,” his hand carefully slides up into V’s short hair, stroking them, rubbing the scalp with his fingertips as he admires his man’s handsome face, savouring the sight, while also feeling proud of himself for having landed such a hot guy, and it gives him an idea, “bet ya only fell for my looks and money, didn’t ya?~”

They both know it’s just another one of Kerry’s quips, but V can’t help “indulging” him: “Naturally. Your ass is flat as fuck though, you better work on that if ya want me t’stay. No offence, just sayin’.”

The way Kerry’s face immediately changes almost makes V crack up right there on the spot.

“Wha-… Not like yours is much better!”

That’s when the merc finally gives in and actually laughs, his smile turning into a grin. The thing is, just a couple of days ago they were exchanging their workout routines with Kerry complaining he can’t get a proper six pack no matter how hard he tries, genetics be damned, and that includes his rockerbum — gaining muscle mass is a true challenge for him, and V’s well aware of that fact. All while V is a walking Greek god at this point, having installed plenty of implants, along with his occupation working in his favour when it comes to maintaining an athletic body. The overall banter amuses him nonetheless.

“We both know that’s not true, Ker. Face reality~”

“Okay, you know what? I got my other assets, you dumb merc, so save it!”

V does his best to feign surprise at that, going so far as to widen his eyes and open his mouth, making sure it’s right in between exaggeratedly theatrical and genuine, “You do?!”

Kerry’s hand swats at his shoulder.

“You’ve had your hands all over my freakin’ assets this past year, you gonk, I know you can’t get enough of ‘em!”

“Y’sure ‘bout it? I don’ really remember anythin’ like that.”

“I’ve got receipts, merc. Lots of ‘em.”

“Hm… You might be onto something, yeah. I remember my hands touching something really… flat. Y’know, so flat ya could play pool on it. Yeah, really… really flat.”

One of Kerry’s hands instantly darts towards his side, aiming for the ribs, and nimble fingers give it a few well-deserved scribbles. Of course, V was expecting something like that, and he easily grabs Kerry’s hand, but at what cost — the can of beer he’s been holding slips out of his grasp and falls straight onto his thigh, slightly splashing some of it in the process. The sound alerts Nibbles, and she proceeds to run away, startled by the whole ordeal, while V has that devious smirk on his face that speaks trouble. He was just given a perfect excuse.

“…Good job, Ker. Now it’s my turn.”

“Gonna hafta catch me first, gonkface,” a shit-eating grin on Kerry’s mug as he yanks his arm out of the grip, the man’s absolute definition of smug as he jolts up to his feet before V can even process what he’s up to, the invitation clear in his eyes. For a few seconds the rockerboy waits there to see if V would follow along with his initiative, and the moment the merc chuckles and starts moving, Kerry darts away, running around the couch to instantly bolt towards the other end of the villa.

“You’re so gonna get it,” after giving his man a couple seconds headstart, V jumps up to his feet, racing after him, a matching grin of his own making him look almost giddy with excitement.

Kerry straight up laughs, cutting corners, veering around furniture, occasionally tripping over stuff scattered on the floor — he can even hear a sound of something falling and breaking behind him, but it only makes him laugh even more. The sound of V’s rapid footsteps is getting closer, riling up the thrill of the chase, and he’s tempted to glance back at the merc, but he knows better, his heart is racing at the thought of his input being not far behind.

“Piss off, ya gohohonk!!”

“Fat chance!”

After sprinting upstairs, he quickly runs around the billiard table, trying to fool V and pretend that he’s changing direction, but yelps when he finds the man smirking at him from its other side, now both of them staring at each other with matching amusement. Kerry darts one way — V follows, Kerry darts the other — V’s already there, the rockerboy ends up barking out a laugh and turning around, huffing a bit from so much action, now aiming to go back down to the ground floor.

A surprised scream escapes him as two strong arms wrap around his midriff from behind, the sound he makes instantly bringing a barely noticeable flush to his face while he laughs, struggling in his man’s hold — all for shits and giggles of course. His vicious assailant is grinning from ear to ear, definitely proud of himself, and leans down a notch, easily throwing Kerry over his shoulder, the superior merc strength getting the best of the squirming singer, carrying him with ease.

“Put me down!! V!” His words are filled with shameless laughter, and all he gets in response to his plea is a playful smack on the ass, making him twitch and gasp in surprise, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he’s lazily wriggling around, “Ya dickhead!!”

“Yeah, go on, flail some more so I can drop ya and pretend it was an accident~”

He laughs, giving Kerry's rear another slap, rather gentle by his standards, the silly grin not leaving his face even for a second.

“Oops!” V suddenly flinches, pretending to be about to drop his dork of a man, but quickly straightens back up, smug as ever.

“ACK! Vincent!!” Kerry yelps, holding onto the merc’s hips for dear life, and smacks him on the shoulders with a playful glare, “You bastard! You better not drop me!”

The next thing Kerry knows is that he’s tossed onto his own bed, landing on his back with a loud “oof”, some air getting knocked out of his lungs, and even though he gives V another disapproving glare, it lacks any actual menace as here he is — lying down about to get fucked straight into the bedding by his resilient, steaming hot input. Tomorrow his lower back is going to be sore as hell, but it’s so worth it, therefore a bit of roughhousing is appreciated in this context. That’s until he meets V’s eyes full of sly cheerfulness — definitely not the look he has when he’s about to pound Kerry’s brains out. The slight panic appearing on the rockerboy’s face only entertains the merc further.

“W-Wait, V, what are ya-…” In a matter of seconds Kerry feels a whole ass barrage of wiggling fingers on his sides, and a loud, obnoxious laugh bursts out of his throat — he wasn’t expecting it at all. The man gives his input the most baffled, indignant diva look he can possibly achieve while his hands dart up to grab V’s wrists, pushing them away for mere moments before they return, continuing the outrageous act.

“V!! You know I hate that shit!! Oh you fuckin’ asshole, when I get away I’ll-… Pffft-hahaha!! You’re dehehead!!”

He is kind of disappointed that the whole thing wasn’t about sex, but he’s laughing so much he can’t spare a second to think about it. The Kerry Eurodyne is kicking his feet against the mattress nonstop in a laughing fit, his cackles filling the area to the brim while he’s thrashing around, his cheeks already flushing once again. V’s sitting near, a big, kind of goofy smirk on his face, both hands busy forcing all kinds of noises out of his input for his own entertainment, but he can tell that Kerry doesn’t actually mind it either — otherwise he would’ve been way less reactive and definitely grouchier than he is now. Of course, he’s always been ridiculously ticklish, so his laughing fit is a predictable reaction, but V knows him well enough to read his moods, so, strangely, Kerry seems to be having fun as well. Probably because he’s in his natural habitat — bottoming. Not to mention that the sight is way too sweet for V to stop his merciless assault.

Unable to resist the temptation to tease him further, V snickers, speaking in a taunting, borderline cooing voice, the one he absolutely loves using to ruffle Kerry’s feathers, “Caught myself a ticklish input, didn’t I? Wonder what should I do with him~”

Kerry snarls and hisses, trying to hold back his giggles at least for a while, but soon enough realises that it’s no use — the merc’s hands are cold as hell, fingers digging into his sides and now also stomach, making him writhe and squirm like a fish out of water, hearty laughter pouring out of him nonstop, yet he’s still trying to speak:

“Shuhuhut it!! You diIICK!! Ahaha!! Stahahp it already!! It fuckin’ tickles!!”

“That’s strange, considerin’ I’m ticklin’ ya.” He chuckles at his own retort, voice oozing with sarcasm and filled with obvious pride at having managed to reduce his poor man to such a state. Any attempts of getting away are prosecuted by extra tickles, making Kerry roll onto his side and curl up into a ball — the last potential resort to get away from the impending torture. The dopey grin on his face is gradually getting wider, making him look even more ridiculous, and by extension adorable in V’s eyes, he can’t get enough of it.

To his surprise, one of Kerry’s hands manages to weasel itself towards his side, now actively clawing and squeezing it with all his strength, clearly trying to get him back for the atrocious acts, but unfortunately for him, the badass, stolid merc seems to be barely ticklish. He does let out a couple of chuckles, twitching here and there, but that’s about it, and judging by the way he squints his eyes, after that little stunt Kerry’s done for it. V’s hands slide up, now mercilessly drilling his fingertips into his input’s ribs, knowing well enough that he absolutely can’t take it at that spot, though he’s being careful not to hurt or bruise his giggly man.

“GAHAHA NO!!” Kerry’s laughter is getting hoarser by the seconds, and he throws his head back, the corners of his eyes watering from so much guffawing, he’s a mess — dishevelled hair, sweaty forehead, signature tank top rumpled like never before, and ready to sign over his villa to V just so he’d stop, so it’s time to bring out the big guns, “V!! STOP! I’M GONNA PISS MYSELF!!”

The merc chortles, amused to no extent, not pausing his attack for a millisecond, “No yer not. Not on yer fancy blankies anyway~”

“I MEAN IT! YOU SEEN HOW MANY MARTINIS I HAD?! I’M GONNA BURST!” This remark actually gets V’s attention. At the end of the day, if it’s not a joke, and the accident does happen, Kerry’s going to have his head, rightfully so. And that’s when all of a sudden in his cackling spree Kerry lets out a loud sound, which can be described as a mix of snoring and choking.

Both of them pause, looking at each other in confusion at first, as it takes them some time to process what it was, even for Kerry, since he was too busy laughing to watch his own reactions. For V it’s particularly concerning since he’s worried that he might have accidentally hurt his man or made him laugh so much that he’s now actually having trouble breathing, but soon enough the realisation hits him — it was a snort. And when that realisation settles, the merc barks out a laugh of his own, his shoulders trembling as he leans over, shaking his head at the hilarity of it all, while Kerry flushes even more than before, the silly grin stays on his face as he can’t help enjoying himself, even despite the lingering embarrassment. V’s hands start slowly sliding off him.

“‘Iright, Ker, here ya go, ya pisshead, free as a-…” The moment V relaxes enough to let his guard down, Kerry pounces, pulling him down onto his stomach, now straddling his hips, despite still panting from all the tickling and squirming. He knows V’s stronger than him, not only naturally, but also thanks to a shitload of implants, including the famous strength enhancers, so he wastes no time. Both of his hands slide under his input’s arms, aiming to get his armpits — since V’s hardly ever ticklish, he has to go all out to get his revenge. Fingers begin scribbling against the tender skin, and Kerry lets out a joyous “Ha!”, already gloating like a little kid.

“That’s what ya get!! Who’s ticklish now, huh?! Tickle-tickle-tickle, V! Not so fun being on the receiving end, is it?!” Yet the moment he leans down to gauge his man’s reaction, his smile falters a smidge, the damn merc seems to be almost immune to his ministrations. Sure, he’s smiling, body shaking with silent giggles, but it seems like Kerry could be as well massaging or scratching his back, the reaction would’ve been the same, and he can’t help feeling just a tad bit frustrated over inability to get his well-deserved vendetta. There’s even a barely noticeable pout on his face, and he doubles down on his efforts, now fully digging his fingers into the skin, but once again — barely any reaction. By the looks of it, V’s cracking up at his failed attempts instead of the tickling itself, so in a spur of the moment Kerry lets out a displeased groan, turns around, and starts smacking V’s ass again and again, not that hard, more like playing bongo with too much enthusiasm.

“Of course you’re not ticklish, probably got some implant shoved up your ass for that too ya ‘borg!! Or what, you’re too “tough” for us mere mortals, hm? A broodin’ fuckin’ street Batman — no weaknesses, no anything, so very alpha!!”

To punctuate his words he pokes V right in the butt through his pants, and the man gasps in surprise, clearly not having expected that kind of retribution. He laughs though, and, propping himself on his hands, pushes himself up, making a very much startled Kerry slide off and flop down onto the bed with a look of surprise — his beast of an input has just easily committed a push-up with the extra weight of an entire man on top of him. Kerry can’t help feeling a slight flutter in his chest at that. But it evaporates as quickly as it appeared once V sits up, now looming over him, and Kerry instantly starts backing off before even realising it.

“C’mon, V, enough already, I’m dying here. Have some mercy, would ya? Y’know I love our tussles, but at this point I might as well cough my lungs out from laughin’ so much.”

A moment later Kerry’s on his back, once again pressed against the bedsheets by his beloved tough boy, and he’s about to glare at him, not appreciating having his requests ignored, yet a soft, lingering kiss stops him from grumbling. V’s lips are a little dry due to all the drinking and action, but they feel so warm and inviting, Kerry can’t help reciprocating, and at some point their teeth lightly clink against each other as they’re both smiling, unable to hold themselves back. They’re panting, but it’s all gradually coming down to a peaceful, relaxed moment, the bond they share making V melt on top of Kerry, though he still has to distribute his weight not to crush his diva. It feels like several weighted blankets have been stacked on the rockerboy, but he doesn’t mind, in fact, he’s all up for it, and his arms wrap around the bigger man, scratching his back and caressing the edges of his cyberware.

The shared warmth brings a smile to V’s face once again, and he can’t help himself — leaning down, he begins thoroughly planting light, tender kisses on Kerry’s face, mainly targeting his cheeks and lips. God he’s absolutely smitten with Kerry’s cheeks. The most adorable set of kissable, freckled treasures. If tonight they’re being cheesy, might as well go all out.

These little pecks continue one after another, now also targeting the tip of Kerry’s nose, taking a break to give it a careful nip, the process of spoiling a certain rockerboy and showering him with affection is going at full force. At first, Kerry’s smiling, relishing in the rare moment of tenderness, but god knows he’s not used to that at all, so soon enough he starts turning his head from one side to another, trying to avoid the barrage of love shamelessly attacking his face. All while he can’t get the smile off his face no matter how much he tries.

“Hey now, I asked you for mercy!! What’s up with you today, hm? Mistook me for a body pillow or somethin’?”

V chuckles at that, planting a softer kiss on his temple, the besotted look on his face says it all — the man is way too in love right now to actually care about a thing except his cherished babygirl.

“Nah-nah, you asked for mercy from the tickles. So no tickles for ye. Maybe. There was nothin’ ‘bout kisses an’ such. So suck it up, Eurodyne,” his words are laced with affectionate teasing, and of course it’s all in jest, yet the kisses continue, and he keeps his input pinned down underneath him, eyes glimmering with somewhat childish giddiness. He sporadically switches spots like suddenly veering from pecking Kerry’s chin to nipping his cheek, despite all the squirming and feigned complaining. His kisses become more sluggish, as if he’s either getting sleepy or way too lazy to put in a smidge of effort, and that’s when the relentlessly smothered rockerboy realises — V’s now doing it all just to annoy him further, and the thought alone is enough to make him grin. He stoically takes such unbearable torment for a few more minutes before slipping one of his arms out and covering V’s mouth with his hand, lightly pushing his head away.

“Alright, Night City legend, you’ve had your fun. Now shoo. I need some space,” the statement alone is so surprising that merc’s eyes widen, and he shakes the hand off, not bothering to hide a mix of curiosity and confusion on his face.

“Some space? You sure about that?”

Kerry lets out a little “tsk” sound and even rolls his eyes halfway through, not like he acts that way often, but his input’s perception is spot on, and the mere fact that V knows him that well makes him feel things. Mostly irritation, but other stuff too.

“Shit. I need a break from all the kissing action, got it? You can… eh… stay where you are. But yeah, gimme a breather, would ya? I’m overstimulated as fuck. Thanks to all that tickling by the way, mostly at least. Oh and I am gettin’ you back for it. ‘Cause you gotta be ticklish somewhere, I just know it. Gonk ass merc.”

The tirade only serves to amuse V further, and he clumsily sits up, rolling his shoulders just to get rid of some leftover stiffness. The alcohol seems to have worn off for now, and he blinks a few times, as if seeing the world in new colours. When his eyes meet Kerry’s he snickers, voice laced with disbelief once he speaks up.

“Why are you so eager to get me back?”

“‘Cause that would be fair. Oh and so I can get you fucking squealing that’s why, you smug ass bastard. You deserve getting taken down a peg, and I’m gonna deliver, pretty boy. You’re getting tickled.”

V actually splutters with laughter at that as Kerry looks so determined and confident that it only adds up to the ridiculousness of it all, like he’s on some dire conquest against him. It’s actually hard to say whether he’s joking or being one hundred percent serious due to a mix of petulance and stubbornness on his face, so V chooses to take it in jest and opens his mouth to say something, but that’s when he hears Nibbles’s claws pitter-pattering across the floor, and freezes for a moment.

“Oh shit,” he hastily stands up, awkwardly fixing his clothes while noticing Kerry’s confused look, “you knocked over an empty whiskey bottle while running, better clean it up before Nibbles steps on it and hurts herself. Or you do, for that matter.”

The last comment actually brings a fond smile to Kerry’s face, the care in V’s voice is palpable and appreciated, plus he’s kind of glad that he’s not going to be the one to deal with the mess. Before he leaves, V leans down, planting a soft kiss on top of Kerry’s head — just the right spot not to overstimulate further and to show affection.

“And for the record, yeah, I am ticklish, but squealing? No fuckin’ way. That’s your department~”

“Eat shit.”

“Love ya too, Ker~”

“Nah, nah, nah, I’m tellin’ ya, V, ‘s not what you think it was.”

“Yeah? You remember a second of it? You got so shitfaced-…”

“Oh shut it, merc.”

Kerry chuckles and gives his man a proper nudge, which turns out to be barely a poke for a chromed merc, only making him smirk wider. The boys are chilling on one of Kerry’s couches, empty beer cans on V’s side and a few finished martini glasses on the other — Kerry’s always had a thing for drinking the same type of cocktails out of different glasses if that was an option instead of simply refilling them. There’s a fond, almost goofy smile on the older man’s face as he can finally spend some proper time with his precious cutie patootie input, and despite it being nothing special, just an ordinary date, he can’t help beaming at the man. The more they see each other, the more pleasure their conversations bring him, which is a breath of fresh air by itself, not to mention an uncharted territory since usually he’d rather not engage too much in the emotional, touchy-feely stuff outside of his own rambling and concerns. Yet every time they meet, V’s got a new story to tell, and Kerry actually finds himself eager to listen. Somehow so intimate yet so trivial.

Not just casual humping (at least not every time), no basic mutual complaining or boring how-are-you-doing type of exchanges, but a raw, utterly human experience.

Nibbles is sitting near V’s leg, casually cleaning her paw with a disinterested look, though the purring she emits makes the couch vibrate slightly, the corners of V’s mouth twitching upwards at the display. His hand moves to give her a few gentle pets, the expression on his face making Kerry chuckle.

“What, don’t I get any gushing over? Not good enough for ya?”

“More like not stinky enough. Don’ worry, you’re gettin’ there,” V leans down for a moment, sniffing the top of Nibbles’s head, his nose wrinkling, “d’ya know if we should give ‘er a shower..? Or is she supposed to smell like that?..”

The sight of the notorious V being a doted feline caretaker is utterly amusing, yet Kerry decides not to comment on it, not wishing to spook the moment — the merc’s cute in this state, he’d rather enjoy it while it lasts.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, this type of stink is natural for them. Trust me, you’ll know when it’s time to take action. Cats are more, eh… hygienic like that I guess. Self-cleaning and shit. So yeah, our lady here is doing marvelous, don’t you worry, single dad.”

“Single?..”

“…Well, technically, we’re not married yet.”

“…yet, huh?” That's when Kerry actually cracks up a notch and gives his man an unimpressed look, though it’s mostly in jest.

“Stop it.”

The expression on V’s face is usually hard to read as he has that trademark merc glare most of the time, seemingly out of habit, but at the moment it’s surprisingly serene, happy even, definitely a positive influence on the both of them. Kerry’s hand reaches out to caress his cheek, eyes squinting in a sly, somewhat mischievous manner.

“Shit. I love your gruff looks and attitude, but seeing you relaxed on a downtime, chillin’ here and all… it’s cute. Nice change o’ pace. It suits ya.”

V doesn’t mind the affectionate gesture, on the contrary, he leans into it, and even though he doesn’t like it when something’s close to his eyes, he’s enjoying the warmth of his man’s hand. Rough fingertips tracing the pieces of his cyberware.

“Never thought I’d hear that word about myself. But eh… heheh, thanks. Still not used to… y’know. Relaxin’ an’ all that.”

“No shit. Years of busting your ass would do that to ya. Don’ worry, you can always drop everything and become my boytoy, I got ‘nough eddies for the both of us~”

At first, V gives him the look, but it softens in mere seconds as he’s well aware it’s a joke. He even crosses his arms on his chest, somehow both entertained and annoyed.

“You already paid for my trauma team premium, Ker. Even though I specifically told you no-…”

“Guilty,” Kerry raises his arms in the air in a defeated gesture, a bit more serious this time around, “but for real, V, can you blame me? I got the eddies to provide my input with extra protection so he doesn’t bleed out somewhere nasty, and I’m supposed to just not do it? Nah, man, this won’t do. B’sides, not like it’s makin’ a hole in my pocket, I could buy you a whole ass AV, shit, a battalion of ‘em! So don’ ya go pout ‘bout it, it’s a gift! Don’t look a gift horse in the eyes or some shit!”

V chuckles at that, finding Kerry’s attempts to defend himself amusing, but after all, he is grateful for it, especially considering that Kerry’s stubborn enough to not listen to him when it’s a safety matter. It could be infuriating at times, and even hot when the mood is right, but overall it’s appreciated. Kerry’s own well-being? Eh, he’s already spoiled rotten, he’ll live one way or another. V’s health and safety? Top priority.

Kerry snickers as if he can read minds, and though at the moment V’s emotions are written all over his face, it’s hard not to tease him further:

“I could always buy ya some fancy lingerie to walk around all pretty, like a present to be unwrapped~ You could wear it as a thank you for my kindness”

V gives him the most skeptical, disappointed and straight up annoyed look he can muster at the moment, which only spurs Kerry on further.

“Or I could buy you a whole fuckin’ set o’ things. Leather harness, lacy sets, fishnet stockings… All ganic! Some fancy-shiny collar with a leash to take you on walks. What d’ya think? Anythin’ tinglin’?~”

“Kerry.”

“‘Lright, ‘lright, don’ get your panties in a twist, I’m just messin’ with ya~”

Kerry’s cheeks are slightly flushed with alcohol, creating more contrast between his actual skin tone and his freckles, and he chuckles under his breath, seemingly pondering something.

“Y’know, you’re the first person that actually survived a year with me without incidents. I know, shocking, ‘cause I’m so easy to deal with, but yeah, I usually get bored of people pretty quickly.”

Translating from Kerry language it means “I love you, and I appreciate having you in my life”, so that alone brings a little smile back to V’s face. His arm wraps around his input’s shoulders, giving him a proper, affectionate squeeze, and his hand moves to caress his upper arm, enjoying the skin texture. All while Kerry’s head rests on his shoulder, “Guess that means I’m not boring. I’ll take it as a compliment, especially coming from the great Kerry Eurodyne himself~”

The Kerry in question smiles at that, his eyes twinkling with amusement, which makes them look oddly scheming, like he’s up to no good. But it all quickly disappears once he relaxes, now simply observing his man with a soft, somewhat condescending demeanour.

“Damn right you’re not boring, in fact, you’re anythin’ but,” his hand carefully slides up into V’s short hair, stroking them, rubbing the scalp with his fingertips as he admires his man’s handsome face, savouring the sight, while also feeling proud of himself for having landed such a hot guy, and it gives him an idea, “bet ya only fell for my looks and money, didn’t ya?~”

They both know it’s just another one of Kerry’s quips, but V can’t help “indulging” him: “Naturally. Your ass is flat as fuck though, you better work on that if ya want me t’stay. No offence, just sayin’.”

The way Kerry’s face immediately changes almost makes V crack up right there on the spot.

“Wha-… Not like yours is much better!”

That’s when the merc finally gives in and actually laughs, his smile turning into a grin. The thing is, just a couple of days ago they were exchanging their workout routines with Kerry complaining he can’t get a proper six pack no matter how hard he tries, genetics be damned, and that includes his rockerbum — gaining muscle mass is a true challenge for him, and V’s well aware of that fact. All while V is a walking Greek god at this point, having installed plenty of implants, along with his occupation working in his favour when it comes to maintaining an athletic body. The overall banter amuses him nonetheless.

“We both know that’s not true, Ker. Face reality~”

“Okay, you know what? I got my other assets, you dumb merc, so save it!”

V does his best to feign surprise at that, going so far as to widen his eyes and open his mouth, making sure it’s right in between exaggeratedly theatrical and genuine, “You do?!”

Kerry’s hand swats at his shoulder.

“You’ve had your hands all over my freakin’ assets this past year, you gonk, I know you can’t get enough of ‘em!”

“Y’sure ‘bout it? I don’ really remember anythin’ like that.”

“I’ve got receipts, merc. Lots of ‘em.”

“Hm… You might be onto something, yeah. I remember my hands touching something really… flat. Y’know, so flat ya could play pool on it. Yeah, really… really flat.”

One of Kerry’s hands instantly darts towards his side, aiming for the ribs, and nimble fingers give it a few well-deserved scribbles. Of course, V was expecting something like that, and he easily grabs Kerry’s hand, but at what cost — the can of beer he’s been holding slips out of his grasp and falls straight onto his thigh, slightly splashing some of it in the process. The sound alerts Nibbles, and she proceeds to run away, startled by the whole ordeal, while V has that devious smirk on his face that speaks trouble. He was just given a perfect excuse.

“…Good job, Ker. Now it’s my turn.”

“Gonna hafta catch me first, gonkface,” a shit-eating grin on Kerry’s mug as he yanks his arm out of the grip, the man’s absolute definition of smug as he jolts up to his feet before V can even process what he’s up to, the invitation clear in his eyes. For a few seconds the rockerboy waits there to see if V would follow along with his initiative, and the moment the merc chuckles and starts moving, Kerry darts away, running around the couch to instantly bolt towards the other end of the villa.

“You’re so gonna get it,” after giving his man a couple seconds headstart, V jumps up to his feet, racing after him, a matching grin of his own making him look almost giddy with excitement.

Kerry straight up laughs, cutting corners, veering around furniture, occasionally tripping over stuff scattered on the floor — he can even hear a sound of something falling and breaking behind him, but it only makes him laugh even more. The sound of V’s rapid footsteps is getting closer, riling up the thrill of the chase, and he’s tempted to glance back at the merc, but he knows better, his heart is racing at the thought of his input being not far behind.

“Piss off, ya gohohonk!!”

“Fat chance!”

After sprinting upstairs, he quickly runs around the billiard table, trying to fool V and pretend that he’s changing direction, but yelps when he finds the man smirking at him from its other side, now both of them staring at each other with matching amusement. Kerry darts one way — V follows, Kerry darts the other — V’s already there, the rockerboy ends up barking out a laugh and turning around, huffing a bit from so much action, now aiming to go back down to the ground floor.

A surprised scream escapes him as two strong arms wrap around his midriff from behind, the sound he makes instantly bringing a barely noticeable flush to his face while he laughs, struggling in his man’s hold — all for shits and giggles of course. His vicious assailant is grinning from ear to ear, definitely proud of himself, and leans down a notch, easily throwing Kerry over his shoulder, the superior merc strength getting the best of the squirming singer, carrying him with ease.

“Put me down!! V!” His words are filled with shameless laughter, and all he gets in response to his plea is a playful smack on the ass, making him twitch and gasp in surprise, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he’s lazily wriggling around, “Ya dickhead!!”

“Yeah, go on, flail some more so I can drop ya and pretend it was an accident~”

He laughs, giving Kerry's rear another slap, rather gentle by his standards, the silly grin not leaving his face even for a second.

“Oops!” V suddenly flinches, pretending to be about to drop his dork of a man, but quickly straightens back up, smug as ever.

“ACK! Vincent!!” Kerry yelps, holding onto the merc’s hips for dear life, and smacks him on the shoulders with a playful glare, “You bastard! You better not drop me!”

The next thing Kerry knows is that he’s tossed onto his own bed, landing on his back with a loud “oof”, some air getting knocked out of his lungs, and even though he gives V another disapproving glare, it lacks any actual menace as here he is — lying down about to get fucked straight into the bedding by his resilient, steaming hot input. Tomorrow his lower back is going to be sore as hell, but it’s so worth it, therefore a bit of roughhousing is appreciated in this context. That’s until he meets V’s eyes full of sly cheerfulness — definitely not the look he has when he’s about to pound Kerry’s brains out. The slight panic appearing on the rockerboy’s face only entertains the merc further.

“W-Wait, V, what are ya-…” In a matter of seconds Kerry feels a whole ass barrage of wiggling fingers on his sides, and a loud, obnoxious laugh bursts out of his throat — he wasn’t expecting it at all. The man gives his input the most baffled, indignant diva look he can possibly achieve while his hands dart up to grab V’s wrists, pushing them away for mere moments before they return, continuing the outrageous act.

“V!! You know I hate that shit!! Oh you fuckin’ asshole, when I get away I’ll-… Pffft-hahaha!! You’re dehehead!!”

He is kind of disappointed that the whole thing wasn’t about sex, but he’s laughing so much he can’t spare a second to think about it. The Kerry Eurodyne is kicking his feet against the mattress nonstop in a laughing fit, his cackles filling the area to the brim while he’s thrashing around, his cheeks already flushing once again. V’s sitting near, a big, kind of goofy smirk on his face, both hands busy forcing all kinds of noises out of his input for his own entertainment, but he can tell that Kerry doesn’t actually mind it either — otherwise he would’ve been way less reactive and definitely grouchier than he is now. Of course, he’s always been ridiculously ticklish, so his laughing fit is a predictable reaction, but V knows him well enough to read his moods, so, strangely, Kerry seems to be having fun as well. Probably because he’s in his natural habitat — bottoming. Not to mention that the sight is way too sweet for V to stop his merciless assault.

Unable to resist the temptation to tease him further, V snickers, speaking in a taunting, borderline cooing voice, the one he absolutely loves using to ruffle Kerry’s feathers, “Caught myself a ticklish input, didn’t I? Wonder what should I do with him~”

Kerry snarls and hisses, trying to hold back his giggles at least for a while, but soon enough realises that it’s no use — the merc’s hands are cold as hell, fingers digging into his sides and now also stomach, making him writhe and squirm like a fish out of water, hearty laughter pouring out of him nonstop, yet he’s still trying to speak:

“Shuhuhut it!! You diIICK!! Ahaha!! Stahahp it already!! It fuckin’ tickles!!”

“That’s strange, considerin’ I’m ticklin’ ya.” He chuckles at his own retort, voice oozing with sarcasm and filled with obvious pride at having managed to reduce his poor man to such a state. Any attempts of getting away are prosecuted by extra tickles, making Kerry roll onto his side and curl up into a ball — the last potential resort to get away from the impending torture. The dopey grin on his face is gradually getting wider, making him look even more ridiculous, and by extension adorable in V’s eyes, he can’t get enough of it.

To his surprise, one of Kerry’s hands manages to weasel itself towards his side, now actively clawing and squeezing it with all his strength, clearly trying to get him back for the atrocious acts, but unfortunately for him, the badass, stolid merc seems to be barely ticklish. He does let out a couple of chuckles, twitching here and there, but that’s about it, and judging by the way he squints his eyes, after that little stunt Kerry’s done for it. V’s hands slide up, now mercilessly drilling his fingertips into his input’s ribs, knowing well enough that he absolutely can’t take it at that spot, though he’s being careful not to hurt or bruise his giggly man.

“GAHAHA NO!!” Kerry’s laughter is getting hoarser by the seconds, and he throws his head back, the corners of his eyes watering from so much guffawing, he’s a mess — dishevelled hair, sweaty forehead, signature tank top rumpled like never before, and ready to sign over his villa to V just so he’d stop, so it’s time to bring out the big guns, “V!! STOP! I’M GONNA PISS MYSELF!!”

The merc chortles, amused to no extent, not pausing his attack for a millisecond, “No yer not. Not on yer fancy blankies anyway~”

“I MEAN IT! YOU SEEN HOW MANY MARTINIS I HAD?! I’M GONNA BURST!” This remark actually gets V’s attention. At the end of the day, if it’s not a joke, and the accident does happen, Kerry’s going to have his head, rightfully so. And that’s when all of a sudden in his cackling spree Kerry lets out a loud sound, which can be described as a mix of snoring and choking.

Both of them pause, looking at each other in confusion at first, as it takes them some time to process what it was, even for Kerry, since he was too busy laughing to watch his own reactions. For V it’s particularly concerning since he’s worried that he might have accidentally hurt his man or made him laugh so much that he’s now actually having trouble breathing, but soon enough the realisation hits him — it was a snort. And when that realisation settles, the merc barks out a laugh of his own, his shoulders trembling as he leans over, shaking his head at the hilarity of it all, while Kerry flushes even more than before, the silly grin stays on his face as he can’t help enjoying himself, even despite the lingering embarrassment. V’s hands start slowly sliding off him.

“‘Iright, Ker, here ya go, ya pisshead, free as a-…” The moment V relaxes enough to let his guard down, Kerry pounces, pulling him down onto his stomach, now straddling his hips, despite still panting from all the tickling and squirming. He knows V’s stronger than him, not only naturally, but also thanks to a shitload of implants, including the famous strength enhancers, so he wastes no time. Both of his hands slide under his input’s arms, aiming to get his armpits — since V’s hardly ever ticklish, he has to go all out to get his revenge. Fingers begin scribbling against the tender skin, and Kerry lets out a joyous “Ha!”, already gloating like a little kid.

“That’s what ya get!! Who’s ticklish now, huh?! Tickle-tickle-tickle, V! Not so fun being on the receiving end, is it?!” Yet the moment he leans down to gauge his man’s reaction, his smile falters a smidge, the damn merc seems to be almost immune to his ministrations. Sure, he’s smiling, body shaking with silent giggles, but it seems like Kerry could be as well massaging or scratching his back, the reaction would’ve been the same, and he can’t help feeling just a tad bit frustrated over inability to get his well-deserved vendetta. There’s even a barely noticeable pout on his face, and he doubles down on his efforts, now fully digging his fingers into the skin, but once again — barely any reaction. By the looks of it, V’s cracking up at his failed attempts instead of the tickling itself, so in a spur of the moment Kerry lets out a displeased groan, turns around, and starts smacking V’s ass again and again, not that hard, more like playing bongo with too much enthusiasm.

“Of course you’re not ticklish, probably got some implant shoved up your ass for that too ya ‘borg!! Or what, you’re too “tough” for us mere mortals, hm? A broodin’ fuckin’ street Batman — no weaknesses, no anything, so very alpha!!”

To punctuate his words he pokes V right in the butt through his pants, and the man gasps in surprise, clearly not having expected that kind of retribution. He laughs though, and, propping himself on his hands, pushes himself up, making a very much startled Kerry slide off and flop down onto the bed with a look of surprise — his beast of an input has just easily committed a push-up with the extra weight of an entire man on top of him. Kerry can’t help feeling a slight flutter in his chest at that. But it evaporates as quickly as it appeared once V sits up, now looming over him, and Kerry instantly starts backing off before even realising it.

“C’mon, V, enough already, I’m dying here. Have some mercy, would ya? Y’know I love our tussles, but at this point I might as well cough my lungs out from laughin’ so much.”

A moment later Kerry’s on his back, once again pressed against the bedsheets by his beloved tough boy, and he’s about to glare at him, not appreciating having his requests ignored, yet a soft, lingering kiss stops him from grumbling. V’s lips are a little dry due to all the drinking and action, but they feel so warm and inviting, Kerry can’t help reciprocating, and at some point their teeth lightly clink against each other as they’re both smiling, unable to hold themselves back. They’re panting, but it’s all gradually coming down to a peaceful, relaxed moment, the bond they share making V melt on top of Kerry, though he still has to distribute his weight not to crush his diva. It feels like several weighted blankets have been stacked on the rockerboy, but he doesn’t mind, in fact, he’s all up for it, and his arms wrap around the bigger man, scratching his back and caressing the edges of his cyberware.

The shared warmth brings a smile to V’s face once again, and he can’t help himself — leaning down, he begins thoroughly planting light, tender kisses on Kerry’s face, mainly targeting his cheeks and lips. God he’s absolutely smitten with Kerry’s cheeks. The most adorable set of kissable, freckled treasures. If tonight they’re being cheesy, might as well go all out.

These little pecks continue one after another, now also targeting the tip of Kerry’s nose, taking a break to give it a careful nip, the process of spoiling a certain rockerboy and showering him with affection is going at full force. At first, Kerry’s smiling, relishing in the rare moment of tenderness, but god knows he’s not used to that at all, so soon enough he starts turning his head from one side to another, trying to avoid the barrage of love shamelessly attacking his face. All while he can’t get the smile off his face no matter how much he tries.

“Hey now, I asked you for mercy!! What’s up with you today, hm? Mistook me for a body pillow or somethin’?”

V chuckles at that, planting a softer kiss on his temple, the besotted look on his face says it all — the man is way too in love right now to actually care about a thing except his cherished babygirl.

“Nah-nah, you asked for mercy from the tickles. So no tickles for ye. Maybe. There was nothin’ ‘bout kisses an’ such. So suck it up, Eurodyne,” his words are laced with affectionate teasing, and of course it’s all in jest, yet the kisses continue, and he keeps his input pinned down underneath him, eyes glimmering with somewhat childish giddiness. He sporadically switches spots like suddenly veering from pecking Kerry’s chin to nipping his cheek, despite all the squirming and feigned complaining. His kisses become more sluggish, as if he’s either getting sleepy or way too lazy to put in a smidge of effort, and that’s when the relentlessly smothered rockerboy realises — V’s now doing it all just to annoy him further, and the thought alone is enough to make him grin. He stoically takes such unbearable torment for a few more minutes before slipping one of his arms out and covering V’s mouth with his hand, lightly pushing his head away.

“Alright, Night City legend, you’ve had your fun. Now shoo. I need some space,” the statement alone is so surprising that merc’s eyes widen, and he shakes the hand off, not bothering to hide a mix of curiosity and confusion on his face.

“Some space? You sure about that?”

Kerry lets out a little “tsk” sound and even rolls his eyes halfway through, not like he acts that way often, but his input’s perception is spot on, and the mere fact that V knows him that well makes him feel things. Mostly irritation, but other stuff too.

“Shit. I need a break from all the kissing action, got it? You can… eh… stay where you are. But yeah, gimme a breather, would ya? I’m overstimulated as fuck. Thanks to all that tickling by the way, mostly at least. Oh and I am gettin’ you back for it. ‘Cause you gotta be ticklish somewhere, I just know it. Gonk ass merc.”

The tirade only serves to amuse V further, and he clumsily sits up, rolling his shoulders just to get rid of some leftover stiffness. The alcohol seems to have worn off for now, and he blinks a few times, as if seeing the world in new colours. When his eyes meet Kerry’s he snickers, voice laced with disbelief once he speaks up.

“Why are you so eager to get me back?”

“‘Cause that would be fair. Oh and so I can get you fucking squealing that’s why, you smug ass bastard. You deserve getting taken down a peg, and I’m gonna deliver, pretty boy. You’re getting tickled.”

V actually splutters with laughter at that as Kerry looks so determined and confident that it only adds up to the ridiculousness of it all, like he’s on some dire conquest against him. It’s actually hard to say whether he’s joking or being one hundred percent serious due to a mix of petulance and stubbornness on his face, so V chooses to take it in jest and opens his mouth to say something, but that’s when he hears Nibbles’s claws pitter-pattering across the floor, and freezes for a moment.

“Oh shit,” he hastily stands up, awkwardly fixing his clothes while noticing Kerry’s confused look, “you knocked over an empty whiskey bottle while running, better clean it up before Nibbles steps on it and hurts herself. Or you do, for that matter.”

The last comment actually brings a fond smile to Kerry’s face, the care in V’s voice is palpable and appreciated, plus he’s kind of glad that he’s not going to be the one to deal with the mess. Before he leaves, V leans down, planting a soft kiss on top of Kerry’s head — just the right spot not to overstimulate further and to show affection.

“And for the record, yeah, I am ticklish, but squealing? No fuckin’ way. That’s your department~”

“Eat shit.”

“Love ya too, Ker~”