#kerv

Adulation

Whorship

Kerry liked being on top. He loved ridding V, the muscles of his thighs contracting as he cantered on V’s cock. And when it happened, V could barely breath as he watched the mesmerizing show of light brown skin undulating over firm but discreet abs. In the mansion, the light was soft and diffuse as sun rose over the hill. The first lights of day made Kerry appear god-like. The sun touched his cyberware, making the gold sparkle and the dark polymer of his vocal implant glitter. It made the sweat covering his body shine and V could barely believe his eyes.

Hands tightening over Kerry’s hips, he saw the older man smile mischievously just before he changed the cadence to something even slower. It was like watching a movie in slow motion; everything seemed starker that way.

“Breath, V,” Kerry laughed, pausing for a second to stroke his cheek and indeed, V gulped a mouthful of air between trembling lips. His eyes were certainly feverish, reflecting the absolute devotion he felt for this man. Flexing his abs made his cock move inside Kerry, who moaned around a smile and threw his head back. V surged to kiss his exposed throat, prompting another whimper from the guitarist. Kerry frowned and opened his mouth a fraction to sigh softly. The merc kissed him, bit his lower lip while trailing his hands in the short white hair. He started moving in increment, following the sounds Kerry made to adjust angle and cadence.

It was so rare that they had this kind of slow love-making. Kerry preferred is fast and on the verge of too rough. But V was a hedonist, he loved to work for hours before bringing his partners to climax. Nothing got him more than seeing them lose it after literal eternities of sweet torture. And today, when V had come back from a gig and slid in bed after showering as the first lights of day appeared, Kerry had only grunted, kissed him before moving over him. They had started like this, just slow kissing and grinding against each other until the singer was a fraction more awake.

“Fuck!” Kerry cursed, “Fuck me,” he added, opening plaintive eyes as he tried to make V accelerate and deepened his stance to rock his hips harder. “Fuck me, please.”

With a curse of his own and a panted breath, V closed his eyes and buried his face in his partner’s neck before putting his hands over the small of his back. Whole body tensing, he reversed their position carefully. Kerry let out a surprised mewl followed by a small laugh that turned into a long keen when V snapped his hips forward swiftly.

Then the merc stilled, buried as deep as he could and watched Kerry lashes flicker over his eyes as he laced his feet behind V’s back and tried to move him. But the man just let his weight drop on his partner, effectively caging him until Kerry whined in frustration.

“I said fuck me, V, not stop.”

But his output only kissed him on the forehead, then let his lips trail toward his jaw. He bit it softly just as he started moving. Kerry huffed and relaxed against the bed, stroking his cheek and putting a hand over his neck. He closed his eyes, threw his head backward against the pillow and let V have his way.

Looking at him intently, V pushed them to a slow and languorous rhythm, shifting until Kerry gasped and moaned again. Then he kept himself there and moved back and forth in little moves. After about a minute, Kerry started arching off the bed, and his eyes opened wide as he gulped breaths between soft moans. All the while, V continued to look at him, drinking every flicker of pleasure off his face.

Then Kerry tried to touch his own cock and V caught his wrist to prevent him from doing so. He pushed it by his head and held it there.

“V, please!” Kerry cried out, straining against him, but the merc continued rocking his hips at the same pace.

“Fuck, ok, ok, please,” the rocker mumbled as tremors started coursing through him. And then he stopped breathing, his mouth widening around a silent shout. It got expelled as a long keen when his cock started vibrating with his release. And V didn’t stop, pumping slowly through it until a shudder ran all over Kerry.

The merc smiled and huffed, bending down to kiss his partner and lick into his mouth. Kerry responded with a long and muffled moan, arms going around V’s shoulders. The merc eyes flickered softly when the singer playfully clenched around him.

“Again?” Kerry murmured. And, kissing him, V nodded.

---

Later, after he had gotten Kerry off a second time and had come deep into him, they laid tangled in the messy sheets. Kerry was on the verge of going back to sleep, V could tell, so he was slowing down his caresses and lightening his touches.

“You have a way of looking at me,” the older man declared in a whisper as the pink of the sky turned bluer.

V smiled and nodded.

“Like I’m… I don’t know,” the rocker hesitated. He didn’t dare voice what he thought he saw in V’s eyes, for fear it would shatter if called upon.

“Like you’re perfect and I want to worship at your altar for the rest of my life?” V asked with utter tenderness.

Kerry nodded, a small frown appearing between his brows.

“That’s actually what worries me. I don’t want you to worship me, V.”

With a huff, the merc nuzzled the musician’s neck before playfully peaking at him.

“Only just in bed? Please?”

It was clear that Kerry was fighting off a smile, heart melting at how cute V could turn sometimes.

“I’m serious. That’s not how I want it to be between us.”

“I know, and I promise you, I see you, in all your perfect and ugly glory.” He replied with a modicum of severity to show his good faith. “But it’s just... It’s hard not to, when this is like a dream come true.” He confessed, and the other man’s frown deepened before curiosity won over.

With a mischievous smile, V traced his finger over Kerry’s lips.

“I was maybe ten or eleven the first time I saw you. It was your homecoming concert here in Night-City, back from the Dark Confessions’ Tour.”

Kerry was now wide awake, looking at V with riveted eyes.

“Sofian and I, he was one of my friends from Heywood, had sneaked in by a back entrance. His brother had been working here as security. The goal was to pick-pocket everything we could and bring it back outside. As kids, we would get off easy if we were caught.” V paused, reliving the memory himself.

“But the moment you came on stage, I completely forgot about that and stood dumbly in the middle of the crowd. I think I vaguely remember Sofian shaking me but the only thing it got me doing was getting closer to you.”

Eyes running tenderly over the rocker’s face, V touched their noses together.

“I was a scrawny kid, got between the legs of the fans and by all the gods, you had some hardcore ones! They were literally swooning in the front row!”

At that, Kerry chuckled with a wince.

“Yeah I know, there is a dedicated Trauma Team for that at every one of my concert.” He confessed.

“Well, I nearly got trampled by them but I just had to get closer. And there I was, squished between a woman who was losing her shit and two young men in tears as they professed their undying love for you.” He paused, shifting a bit to stretch his body and then cuddled back against Kerry. “But they had the right idea, because that’s exactly what I felt too. You already had the blue eyes, but your hair was not that white. And your voice, fuck, Ker! I can still remember how it vibrated through my chest.”

V’s voice was rough, full of the emotions the memory still brought.

“After the concert, Sofian was looking at me like I had lost my mind and I thought I might have too. And that night, when I laid in my shitty bed, I lost sleep thinking about you.”

Kerry couldn’t help but smile at that, although there was clear doubt in his eyes, like he couldn’t believe he had had such effect on a kid.

“You were also my gay awakening,” V concluded with a grin, which the musician returned before freezing. His expression turned mischievous.

“V… Are you telling me you jerked off thinking of me?”

And the merc honestly blushed. He had not anticipated this when he had started the story.

“I did not.”

“Liar.” Kerry laughed. “I don’t know if I’m honored or weirded out.” He added, looking at the ceiling with a quizzical expression. There was a moment of silence before V felt it coming: with a grin like the Cheshire Cat, Kerry asked:

“What did you imagine, in that little head of yours?”

With a groan, V turned on his back and hid behind his hands.

“Nothing! I did not wank thinking of you!”

“The Nile is not just a river in Egypt, V. Come on, you gotta tell me now, I’m curious!”

With a long-suffering sigh, V kept his hands over his face and mumbled something. Raising himself on one elbow, Kerry caught his hands and pulled them off his face. His gaze had gentled a bit, and he took one hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles.

“You’re right, maybe it’s weird,” he declared after muzzling against V’s palm. The younger man looked at him with a tender expression.

“I was pathetically obsessed with you Ker. It was not just physical. I dreamed that one day I would be this awesome man that would sweep you off your feet. I had all these little scenarios about saving you from gangs like in the movies. Or colliding with you, you know, spilling coffee on each other and exchanging looks while apologizing and all that jazz…”

Once again, Kerry grinned and shook his head.

“You were so cute.”

“Well, I’ll admit I had… other fantasies… Later. When I was older.”

“Really? Pray tell, what were those fantasies?” Kerry wondered with laughing eyes and heat simmered again in his pupils.

Reaching to Kerry’s face, V stoked his cheek gently.

“Doesn’t matter, reality is even better than my dreams,” he murmured, gaze turning serious once again. The musician’s smile slipped off his face too, chased away by the tide of emotion that had suddenly risen between them.

“And I’ll fucking fight to keep it,” he vowed in the same tone.

Both men looked at each other in silence. The sun bathed the room in a fuzzy yellow. Kerry sighed and laid back down over V’s chest, letting the other man embrace him.

They stayed in silence for a long moment, so long V started to relax and was ready to answer the call of sleep.

“Did you get to see any other of my concerts?” Kerry wondered in a soft voice.

“I was a dirt-poor kid, Ker. Of course not. But I kinda collected everything I could about you. I was such a gossip when it came to your life…” he murmured. “But when I grew-up, I also recognized it for what it was: a teenager’s crush. I didn’t know the real you at all.”

V stopped, yawned and turned his head to kiss Kerry’s hair.

“Meeting you for real certainly was a surprise… I won’t lie, my inner fanboy had a seizure when he saw you barely covered the first time.” He admitted with a self-depreciating expression, “But the adult me knew you were just another man. A man I had yet to know. A man I wanted to know.”

“And now? Now that you know me?” Kerry breathed in the liminal space between them.

“Now? Now I love you. For real.”

“Prettiest mouth ever. But a biter, I remember.” Replied the other one. He had a big dark mustache, and his cheeks were red from alcohol and glistening with sweat. Probably some regulars.

“Yeah, didn’t like getting choked on cock, the pussy.”

“And now, look at him,” the second one said, pointing up in the vague direction of were Padre and V were talking upstairs. Leaned over the guardrail, the two men were in deep conversation, with frowns on both their faces. The gig sounded serious.

“Thinks because he now is Padre’s favorite, we forgot about what a fucking whore he was?” the same man continued, slurring a bit. “Tell you what, ‘m gonna catch him when he comes back and just fucking take him.”

Next to him, the first man laughed out loud. “Are you serious? Man, whatever cocksucker he was, you heard what they say on the streets. He’s a merc now, and a good one!”

The second man grunted and drank deeply from his beer. It only occurred to Kerry now that they were speaking about V. He hadn’t connected the dots, so removed their description of his output was from his personal knowledge of the man. He knew V had a past as a street kid, and he was not naive. Kerry himself had lived on the streets, crashing in squats, and even dropping on his knees for his next line of synthcoke, so he didn’t care really. What bothered him was the way they were speaking of V now.

“Whatever,” mustache-guy continued, “can still remember that pretty face, the one he had when you fucked him while he was high, y’know?”

Kerry sat rigidly next to them, barely breathing.

“Oh yeah!” the first one concurred, “Oh! Remember how he cried that time when Armando and Felix took him both at the same time? Kept begging for them to stop with that pretty mouth. Kid had such pretty eyes, too, now he’s got them all changed, but I bet he still cries when he takes it in the a –“

But the man never ended his sentence, because Kerry punched him right in the face. The guy fell into his partner, knocking him off his stool too. They tried to hold on the table as they fell, and instead took it with them. Their drinks spilled, and the table hit the floor with a loud clang.

Then, there was silence as the two gonks found themselves on the floor, Kerry panting over him, fist still clenched. They clambered up to their feet, mean looks shinning in their eyes.

“The fuck?!” The second one, with the big mustache, said. His companion, the one Kerry had actually punched, was straightening too, a hand over his cheek. Kerry noticed with satisfaction that his nose was bleeding. Good.

But before they could make a move on Kerry as the crowd still watched with baited breath, V was here between the musician and the two shitbags. Kerry couldn’t help but snort internally when they faltered at seeing the merc, suddenly rigidly nervous. So they could talk about him sucking dicks all they wanted, but they knew how dangerous he really was now.

V seemed to identify them, and his stance relaxed slightly, taking on a mocking attitude.

“Hey,” he said with a mean smile. They scowled and crossed their arms. Kerry could tell they were in a tight spot, with everyone watching them. They didn’t want to pass for cowards, but at the same time they certainly didn’t want to openly confront V.

“Long time, no see,” the merc continued like this was a civil conversation.

“You know this asshole, V?” the one with the mustache asked, in an attempt to divert the attention.

“Yeah, one of my friends.” But the way he said the words implied that Kerry was much more than that. “So, wanna tell me what you did to make him punch you?”

The other one, wiping his nose on his sleeve glanced at Kerry and blanched, only now connecting the dots.

“Nothing. We were just having a drink. And talking.” He added, placating.

“What about?” V asked, and his tone was so light and open, anyone could have fallen for it. But from his vantage point, Kerry could clearly see the way his mouth twitched sadistically and his eyes flashed blue in warning.

The two gonks exchanged a look before their gazes fell on the floor, like meek puppies.

“Talking about the past, reminiscing.” The one with the broken nose tried.

“Good old days, huh, you mean when you liked to watch underage kids get raped by your friends, right? When you liked having you cocks sucked by children in exchange for your shitty cut synthcoke? The very same coke that killed Mel’s boys and Franck’s daughter?”

They blanched, looking wildly around them. The atmosphere in the club changed, shifted to something darker and dangerous. And then Padre walked forward.

“Gentleman, God would not approve of such violence in a place of joy like this. Let’s talk about it in my office.”

And the two assholes tensed, expressions taking on a frightened look. Because everyone knew about Padre’s office. They chanced a look at the door, probably planning for an attempt at running away, but V shifted.

“Wrong day to have a drink here, fellas.” He casually declared, voice falsely warm. “Now, march.” He added, indicating the door where Padre was now waiting for them, framed by three big burly guys.

And the crowd moved in, forcing them to move, or face public lynching. Struck between fire and storm, they chose fire and followed Padre out of the club, faces white and anxious.

The moment they were out, people turned back to their drinks and friends, and the habitual noise of the Coyote gradually returned. V turned to Kerry, and the musician experienced something of a whiplash at seeing V’s face. A second ago, he had looked on the verge of cold, methodical murder by dismembering, and now his eyes were wide, brows pinched in worry and mouth slightly open as he took Kerry’s hand in his.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, thumb tracing the knuckles. And Kerry grunted softly. Actually, now that the adrenaline was wearing off, it was throbbing and painful. Still reeling from the conversation he had overheard, and from V’s declarations afterward, it took him a second to answer.

“Ker?” V asked softly, getting closer and putting his other hand over the musician’s cheek. “you ok?”

No, Kerry was not ok. But he didn’t want to lose his shit here, so he valiantly put a smile on his face and chuckled.

“Looks like I can’t remember how to throw a correct punch anymore.”

V’s eyes continued to look at him with concern, thumb still brushing Kerry’s skin.

“Let’s get out of here.” He said and Kerry could only approve. They made their exit discreetly, and stayed silent until they were back in V’s car.

Kerry was holding his wrist now, gently massaging it. Fuck, he might really have hurt himself. He saw V glance at him for the corner of his eyes, biting his lower lip in that nervous habit he had.

“Wanna talk about it?” the merc gently asked, always respectful of Kerry’s needs. And the musician felt his heart clench at that. How could someone like V exist? Life had delt him so much shitty cards, and he had still come on top, being the best person Kerry had ever known. It made Kerry want to cry.

His first reflex was to say no, but the words burned his lips before he could stop them.

“They were talking about you.”

V’s hands tightenned on the wheel, but he didn’t say anything else. And now that he had started, Kerry didn’t seem to be able to stop.

“Talking about how you…” he stopped, inhaled deeply to calm himself and school his voice into neutrality. He failed spectacularly at both. “Spoke about how they loved to see your face when you sucked them off for a fix, how they particularly liked to fuck you when you were high and how… HOW THEY FUCKING WATCHED YOU GET RAPED!” he exploded, hands going to his hair, gripping the white strands harshly.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t do that,” V replied, hands going to Kerry’s, forcing him to release his own hair and stop harming himself.

“The fuck, V? I just told you I know you’ve been raped and you’re…” he started chuckling hysterically, “you’re still taking care of me…” he finished lamely, hands falling on his lap as he tried to calm himself.

V cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. He took the road back to North-oak, slowing down at a red light before he spoke again.

“I thought you… Knew. I mean, I told you about how it was, living off the streets. I thought you had figured it out.”

“I did,” Kerry replied quietly, “well, I’m not fucking naive, I’ve been there too. But there is a difference between knowing and hearing two gonks casually talking about it. Enjoying it. Getting hot over it.” He concluded in a dark voice.

They stayed in silence until they reached the mansion, and V stopped the car.

“Padre took care of it.” V revealed. “Kids whoring themselves for money or a fix is one thing. Can’t really do anything ‘bout it, really. But this was something else.”

“They said they watched you cry as you begged for their friends to stop,” Kerry repeated, voice trembling with rage and pain.

V glanced down, wiping his palms over his jeans. He shrugged.

“Don’t remember it clearly, actually. Good side of the drugs, I suppose?”

And Kerry gave him such a look of absolute outrage that V couldn’t help but smile sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

“V,” Kerry started, forcing his voice to be calm and this time achieving it. He knew he had to make some things clear before he let V out of the car. “You don’t have to protect me, to try and making it less… Horrific. I don’t care ok, I don’t care if it started because you needed your next fix, fact is… You asked them to stop, they didn’t. They hurt you. I’m mad at them for hurting you V. I just… This is not about me, ok, it’s about you.”

“Us,” V interrupted, “it’s about us, Ker. It’s about how this is affecting our relationship, if – “

Kerry cut him off by taking his head between his hands and kissing him gently.

“I’m not disgusted or anything ok, it doesn’t change how I see you. I’m just shocked because of how they were getting off on it, that’s all. That’s all, V.” he repeated firmly. And he knew he had been right because V’s shoulder relaxed fractionally.

Kerry let his forehead rest against V, breathing the same air, stroking his nape. Between them, V spoke quietly.

“Padre got them, and had them killed after me and other kids finally talked about it. He was enraged. Never seen him like this. I don’t expect these gonks to survive the night. Don’t know why they thought it smart to come back here. They ran off the first time.” He snorted and Kerry closed his eyes, but let a small smile paint itself on his lips. “They were just rats, you know. I actually never touched their dicks, but I know they wished for it. But they were gonk-ass dealers, not even really part of the gang. Their job was to bring fresh meat to their bosses, they didn’t get to enjoy it themselves.” V finished.

“Doesn’t matter, V. You could have sucked-off half of Night-City for a fix, I would still love you the same. Look at what you’ve become? Seen their faces when suddenly you were standing in front of them? I though they might crap themselves!”

And V’s eyes flashed dangerously, but there was no denying the hint of pride in his irises. He actually laughed a bit.

“And you punched them. My knight in shinning armor!”

And he took Kerry into his arms, burying his face in his neck, breath ticking the rocker’s cyberware. Said man returned the embrace, embracing him tightly.

“I love you. Always will.”

V said nothing, but he let out a loud sigh and Kerry knew he had said the right things. They disentangled and V took his output’s hand in his again.

“Think you might have sprained it… Let’s go take care of it.”

“Well, it was worth it.”

Legendre, Kerry’s new manager, had an assistant, a young girl of twenty-five named Coraline. Legendre was here with her to make Kerry sign some papers, but it ended up taking a lot more time because Kerry was reviewing every points thoroughly. When at last, everything was in order, both he and his new manager got out of the office and Kerry saw V and Coraline, head bent over either of their phones, watching some silly video trending for people their ages, giggling like high-schooler. He could tell Coraline had not been immune to V’s charm, if the way she flushed when he looked at her with his corner smile was any indication.

The well-known fear filled Kerry’s belly, that acidic feeling spreading in his veins like fire. Still, he waited and watched. Watched as Legendre called Coraline to her, and how said assistant couldn’t help but look back as she crossed the threshold, smiling at V with obvious desire in her eyes. And V… Winked at her.

The moment the door was closed, Kerry roughly pushed V against the grand piano, making the merc stumble and then groan as Kerry clashed their teeth together, surging up to cover V’s mouth with his. He didn’t let V any room to breathe as he nipped as his bottom lip, then trailed hot and bruising kisses down his throat. Trailing his hands under V’s shirt, he slid them behind to claw at his back, nails leaving angry red marks and V hissed.

“Fuck,” he moaned, hips bucking forward and neck arching back.

“That’s the idea, yeah,” Kerry breathed against his Adam apple, before licking the musk and the sweat of V’s throat. His hands drifted to the younger man’s belt and undid it with harsh gestures, practically ripping the zipper open. And V was hard already, hips cocked forward, erection straining in his underwear toward Kerry’s.

“Did she make you fucking hot?” he couldn’t help but hiss. “wanted to fuck her tight cunt?”

V huffed a laugh, shook his head, but didn’t deny it. It made Kerry’s desperation grow tenfold. He dropped to his knees and pulled the last garment down before looking up. He tried to channel the anger and not the despair, and maybe he achieved it because V teased:

“Jealous?”

The sentiment being so casually slapped to his face made Kerry’s heartache intensify, so he hid it by taking V’s cock into his mouth, and the merc sighed, sagging a bit on the piano. Kerry concentrated on the feeling of the silky skin over his tongue, on the girth stretching his lips, and on V’s hips stuttering uncontrollably.

He glanced up after a while and saw V grip the edge of the piano. He was biting his lower lip between long keens of pleasure, and his thighs trembled. And then, he rasped:

“Bet her lips wouldn’t stretch like yours around my cock.”

It was too much. Kerry stilled, then recoiled, stumbling backward as he got to his feet. V seemed surprised, so much that he made a step forward and got tangled in his clothes, nearly overbalancing.

“What?” Kerry breathed. “wha – were you thinking about her while I sucked you off?” he stammered as a turmoil of emotion boiled inside of him, lashing out over his heart and mind.

“Ker?” V asked, hand reaching forward. His face expressed the utmost confusion, which fueled Kerry outrage.

“What the fuck, V!” He distantly remarked his voice was pitchy, like a wounded cat. There was also a ringing in his head, and his eyes were stinging.

“Ok, calm down, I think there is a gross misunderstanding here – “ V started, using his reasonable voice, the one he used when face with a particularly stubborn client, or when he was surrounded by gang members.

“Calm down?” Kerry repeated, a note of hysteria in his tone. “You want me to calm down when you were thinking about someone else while I had my lips wrapped around your fucking dick?!”

On top of using The Tone, V was now looking at him like he was a rabid animal.

“Baby, I thought…” but then he stopped, frowned and closed his mouth. Kerry watched him do it with heaving breaths, chest bursting with agony. “I thought,” V repeated, before changing gears, “Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you. So I thought it was a game.”

A game. The words hung here in the ether between them. It had a strange effect on Kerry. Some part of him recognized that the situation was something else than it seemed. But the better part of him was roaring in absolute furor.

“Playing with my feeling is a game to you?” he hissed after nearly a minute of silence. His tone was now utterly cold and his eyes flashed dangerously.

“No, not at all, Ker please, I misunderstood, I thought you liked it!”

It was like something shattered inside Kerry as he understood that V had deliberately edged all those people. That he had accepted their advances and even flirted back because he thought it was a game of tease between them. And all the while, Kerry had been swallowing his own emotions like broken glass, trying not to be the clingy boyfriend that would surely drive V away. All the while thinking he was soon to be replaced by the next adventurous person approaching V.

“You thought I liked being reminded that I’m fucking old and that you’ll soon get bored of me?” Kerry asked, voice dripping with irony to hide the shaking, “I know I’m fucked up in the head, but this is beyond even me.”

And once again, V opened his mouth, only to close it as he rewound all the times he had played that game thinking Kerry was in on it. Every moment scrolled in his brain, bathed in the new light of a terrible realization.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck, Ker, I’m sorry.” His mouth trembled as he understood the amount of hurt he had inflicted upon his output. “I really thought…”

But Kerry couldn’t bear it anymore. He walked off to hide in the bedroom, cursing the openness of the house.

He heard V climb the stairs about an hour after that. In the meantime, Kerry had cooled down a bit, and chased away the treacherous tears falling over his cheeks. His make-up was ruined, his hair was a mess and he probably looked pathetic curled up in the middle of the mattress. But he didn’t care, concentrating on soothing the hurt little boy inside him, like his therapist had taught him to do.

He felt the bed dip as V sat on the edge, behind Kerry. For a long moment, silence reigned before:

“I fucked-up Kerry. I’m sorry.” V murmured. “I… I don’t know how to tell you how shitty I feel knowing that I hurt you like this. Repeatedly. I’ve been an idiot.” He concluded in a low voice, sounding like a kicked puppy. It melted Kerry’s heart, try as he might to resist.

“I can only hope that you’ll find it in yourself to forgive me.” V pronounced softly. “I just really want you to know that… I love you. And that’s not going away anytime soon.” He paused and Kerry closed his eyes, feeling the pain recede at V’s heartfelt words. “As for being old... Most of the time I forget you’re nearly ninety. To me you’re this awesome rocker that makes my heart do flips every time he looks at me. I feel so cherished when you look at me, like I’m some sort of treasure or something. And when you get jealous you look at me like this too and I will admit it’s… kinda heady.”

And how could Kerry blame him, when he felt exactly the same under V’s gaze.

“Truth is… You’re not the only one thinking the other is gonna ditch him. Every day I look at you, and I wonder what you see in me, how you can even love me when I’m a fuckin’ killer. My hands are so bloody, where yours create so much beautiful things. I feel like I’m tainting you – ”

Kerry turned, sending a glare at V over his shoulder.

“You’re not tainting me, stop that right this instant.”

V smiled tentatively, and the fucker even used his coy charming smile, which had Kerry’s heart doing somersault inside his ribs. And it was really unfair that the man could ignite such strong emotions inside him, be it positive or negative ones. At the moment, Kerry wanted to hold on his anger so bad, but it was slipping away like sand between his fingers.

He turned completely, gaze softening.

“Maybe we should have talked about this earlier.” He breathed between them, hands reaching to V, who dutifully bent forward, letting Kerry stroke his cheek. The merc nodded, eyes closing with the faint traces of an anguished expression.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

Instead of replying, Kerry pulled him toward himself, on top of him. Both men looked at each other for a moment before V tentatively got closer to Kerry’s face.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, words mouthed without a sound.

Kerry’s lips spasmed in a repressed smile, and he tilted his chin to kiss V instead. The man responded gently, taking his time to slot their mouths together, to nip at both lips, to swipe his tongue over them softly. They exchanged a breath before they started again, V moving to cover Kerry more, as one hand captured one of Kerry’s, lacing their fingers, and the other drifted southward. It traced the valleys of Kerry’s stomach over his shirt, before slipping under. And slowly, the musician relaxed completely and the emotions quieted to be replaced with a low simmering want. He lost himself in the kisses, V keeping them absolutely sweet like they never were before. The younger man moved delicately, undoing Kerry’s pants slowly, pausing after every move to ask for permission to continue, which Kerry granted with a sigh. They separated only to undress, the need to feel skin on skin overwhelming, and then V laced their hands again, going down to kiss every inch of his partner’s skin.

He nipped the jointure of skin and cyberware, licked hot trails in the crease between hip and thigh, mouthed at a nipple on his way back up. He kept at it while he gently prepared Kerry, the man arching back with each pass of finger inside him. It was slow, soft and terribly hot. It had been a while since Kerry had been made love to like this, worshipped as V was doing. And fuck if it didn’t make him feel like a god. V’s little pants were warm against his lips as he looked at him, gaze burning. It was nearly too much, and Kerry had to fight not to close his eyes, but each time he did, V whispered “no please, open your eyes, please,” in such plaintive voice that Kerry’s heart ached and he obeyed.

It became even more intense when V penetrated him, at last, fingers intertwined on either side of Kerry’s head, breathes mingling when they panted softly. Once he was settled inside, he paused to kiss Kerry again, and again, hot tongue burning love letters against his. He moved slow, deliberate, precise: exactly the way to make Kerry lose himself. The musician moaned, a wounded sound deep in his throat as his expression turned anguished, lips trembling in their kisses. With a huff and a small grunt, V nuzzled against his lover’s neck and gave just a little more power behind his thrusts. And kept the pace as Kerry’s whimpers turned to long keens and pleasure rippled inside him from his core to the extremities. He clenched his hands over V’s, painfully, in an echo of the intense feeling he was experiencing inside. He wanted to hurt V, bite him, make him bleed, mark him.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, “say you’re mine.”

V shivered and nodded:

“Yes, I’m yours, Ker, only ever yours.” He murmured back, right into his ear, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that made Kerry bow with a cry. V did it again, and again, watching the whole time as Kerry’s eyes clouded with ecstasy.

Abs straining, muscles tensed to keep the position and the pace, V watched it happen in increments: how Kerry clenched around him, how his stomach rippled with the effort, how his cheek flushed and he eyes got beyond feverish. And the riptide broke as his orgasm zipped through him, making him shake and close his eyes as he arched back in V’s arms.