Work Text:
Johnny likes red.
The Samurai logo is red and black, which, in his opinion, are the only two colors that matter. And he loves red on any babe or groupie he happens to pick up. Most of the time it's a woman in a slinky red dress or red lipstick that he wants nothing more than to smear off of her lips while he kisses her or fucks her mouth. Occasionally, it's a man in black leather and red accented clothing, confident, rough around the edges, but who melts under his hands. And he likes it on everything in between.
When Johnny wakes up in V's head and sees his mirror's reflection in memories, he gets mad about V's red hair and red clothes and red sneakers and red everything. He even wears red eyeliner, smudged pretty under his eyes. It's stupid, because who the fuck cares if this body he's in happens to share his favorite color. But he's nothing if not weirdly territorial about things that really don't matter.
He doesn't bother saying anything to V, and if the mercenary notices his thoughts, he doesn't point them out.
After his initial angry, violent outburst, Johnny finds he really doesn't mind the kid. Raised in the concrete jungle of Heywood, V is capable, smart, and lethal. He's always been handy with guns as any child of Night City's streets should be, but he prefers to resolve things with his fists. For how kind V is, with a Sandevistan and gorilla arms installed, he enacts violence brutally efficiently.
And when V finishes a fight with bodies surrounding him and red blood spattered all over his clothes and dripping off of his skin, Johnny thinks he looks like something divine. Like gods could exist in Night City. But maybe saints do. And if a saint or a simulacrum of it can exist in the blood-soaked concrete and asphalt here, he thinks it would look like V.
V, who has a serene smile on his face before giving a bright laugh at the text message he just got from a friend. His knuckles are still dripping blood and viscera, and he looks haloed by neon lights.
Because despite the violence he's capable of, despite V's shitty lot in life and shittier luck, he still has a bright smile and a yearning for life Johnny secretly envies.
Johnny had spent the last years before he died in a haze— always high or drunk or balls deep in someone he couldn't even remember the name of. He was always using drugs, alcohol, and sex to stave off any thoughts about how much he hated himself. He had convinced himself that what he hated was Arasaka, was Night City and all the people in it. But deep down, he knew it wasn't the truth.
V has every right to hate Night City. Orphaned from a young age and raised on the streets, V's seen how this city chews people up and spits them back out. He's seen the violence, been the victim of some of it himself, enacted a fair share of it too. But when V wears red, it's not about the blood he's spilled, it's just a color he loves that makes him happy, that makes him smile.
And it's such a dissonant and strange way of thinking, to Johnny. He initially thought that if they crossed paths in another life, in another universe, that they would never get along. He knows now that he was wrong about that assessment; V has a way about him Johnny is strangely drawn to. He tries not to think about it, about how attached he's gotten to this young, hotblooded merc he's only known for less than two months.
"I know it's your favorite color," Johnny says, "but don't you think it makes you a bit conspicuous?"
V raises an eyebrow at him. "Uh, did you forget I have opticamo installed? And, 'sides, you're talking to someone who doesn't use stealth unless he has to." He gestures to his red mohawk, raising an eyebrow at Johnny. "Not like I've ever bothered to dress subtle before. Unless it's absolutely needed to go undercover."
Like Johnny hasn't been a first-hand witness to V punching someone's head clean off or crushing someone's skull into paste with a clap of his hands. Having gorilla arms just accentuates the strength and physical fighting prowess V already naturally has.
V has already turned back to his closet, attention back on filtering through his assortment of jackets. He likes red the most, but he has a soft spot for black and gold as well. He still wears the shirt with the ugly yellow-gold emoji face on it more often than not. He settles on a high-collared black leather jacket with red lights lining the inside, and the Eurodyne logo plastered on the back. He looks... good.
Johnny tries not to think about it because he knows their connection goes both-ways in that regard. Many of his thoughts and emotions get fed back into V, and he doesn't exactly want V to know that he does find V really attractive. It feels oddly vulnerable somehow, more so than all the other ways they are so exposed to each other.
V heads out to tackle a few gigs he's had lined up from Dakota and Regina. They all go off without a hitch. V ditches his blood-splattered jacket in the trunk of his car and rinses some blood off of his hands and face with a water bottle before heading into a diner to eat. He's conscious of it even though Johnny thinks he shouldn't care. Not like the restaurants and diners and fast food places here haven't seen a rough and tough customer walk in every so often. But V is considerate, as much as it makes Johnny roll his eyes. He slides into a booth and picks up the pad with the menu.
"Johnny," V says as he flicks through the menu options. "You cravin' anything?"
Johnny blinks into existence across the table from him. "Huh. You know it's your body, kid."
V smiles at him, and Johnny tries not to think about the way his heart jumps into his throat at the sight. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. He has a cosmetic filter over his Kiroshis that adds a neon glow and hearts over his red eyes. Johnny used to think it looked stupid. Now, though...
"I know. It's kinda yours too though." He taps to add a NiCola to his order. "I don't know what I'm feeling anyway, so why don't you pick something to eat?"
"Y'know I could pick something gross, right?"
V's smile widens into a grin. "Nah, cuz you're gonna taste it too. Can't pull one on me unless you're willing to be the butt of the joke too."
It's a nice gesture. Too nice, if Johnny's honest. He tries not to think about how it makes him feel warm in his face or about how he can see the shitty little heart tattoo on V's arm in the peripheral of his vision.
"This place's burgers any good?"
V shrugs a shoulder. "Good as any other place. You know how it is with scop meat. I prefer Tom's Diner, but I like this place too."
"Get the double cheeseburger then," Johnny decides. He does sort of crave food now that V's mentioning it. "And get the tartar dipping sauce for the fries."
"That's old-school," V comments with a chuckle, but he puts the order in.
The burger is good, partly because V's savoring the food for once instead of swallowing it down whole like he does most things while he's on the go. He realizes suddenly that it's for his benefit— that V came out here to eat when there was still a perfectly good breakfast sandwich at home he could've heated up and eaten instead.
"V, s'this a date?" he asks, the words leaving his mouth before he even thinks twice.
V chokes around his next bite, apparently because he's trying not to laugh. He puts the burger down and tries to wipe at the tear at the corner of his eye.
"Johnny, seriously, what? Where'd that come from?"
He suddenly feels stupid for asking, so he clears his throat, looking away. His voice is low and rough when he speaks next.
"You're just bein' really nice, kid." He scoffs, and then tries to play at being mean. "Didn't know you liked me so much, V. If you wanted in my pants that bad, could've just asked."
"Oh? So all I gotta do is take you on a shitty diner date and you'll put out?" V fires back, grinning. "Man, you're easy."
"You wish," Johnny snaps back, embarrassment making his voice mean. "Just wanted to know why you were bein' so fuckin' nice all of a sudden."
V takes a sip of his NiCola. "M'always nice. When you deserve it." His eyes go half-lidded and he smiles a private, sly smile. "And you've been such a good boy lately, so I thought I'd treat you."
He balks at being praised like he's a dog, but his face flushes warm with heat. "Fuck you."
If V was any meaner, he might make a snide comment about it, but Johnny can sense how he bites back the urge to do so. He's simply content and doesn't want to ruin his good mood.
He doesn't push Johnny and instead resumes finishing off his burger. He drains the rest of his NiCola and hums, pleased. He cleans up the table before leaving, and flicks an extra tip to the diner staff as he exits. He really is in a good mood today; there's a bounce to his step. V buys some more cat food from a stall in Kabuki Market before heading home. It's only evening, which is early in a city that never sleeps, but his fixers have already told V there's nothing else that needs doing for today.
He feeds Nibbles when he gets home, throws his clothes in the wash, and then hops in the shower. V must be able to feel how restless Johnny is, because rather than reaching for some sleep clothes to change into, he pulls on a new pair of synthleather black pants, his favorite t-shirt with the yellow emoji face on it, and a different bright red jacket. He sits down in his computer chair to tie up the red laces to his shin-high boots.
"You goin' out again?"
V hums. "Yeah. You seem restless." He looks up and meets his gaze with a smile. "I'll swing by the Afterlife if you want to talk to Rogue."
"Nothin' to say to her," Johnny replies immediately, hedgy, defensive. He's glad he's wearing his aviators because they're easier to hide behind. "She said as much after the movie."
V doesn't answer, instead finishing tying up his laces. He knows when to push Johnny and when to let it lie. He wonders when he earned such patience from the streetkid. V pets Nibbles and kisses his head goodbye and heads to the Afterlife as promised.
He's beloved here— V built up a reputation on the street remarkably quickly, and Johnny wonders why he ever worried so much that people wouldn't remember him as an edgerunning legend. It's hard to miss the way people fawn over V, not just because he's good at what he does, but because his confidence only makes his attractiveness even more noticeable.
V looks haloed by the green and blue and gold neon lights inside of the Afterlife when he slides onto a seat at the bar. Johnny can spy a pair of newcomers off to the side whispering to each other as they stare at him, stars practically visible in their eyes. Even the toughest looking macho mercs seem to melt a little when V gives them a wide smile. He recalls one time a solo a head taller than V and wider too stumbled on his words when V winked at him playfully, immediately blurting out that V was the prettiest man he'd ever seen. V had laughed, flattered, but had to excuse himself because Rogue needed to see him at the time.
V still waves hi to said fixer now from the bar when he sees her heading towards her box. The look in her eyes softens just barely when she sees him. Johnny knows she's fond of V, which is why she had pushed him away when he tried to kiss her in his body. She hadn't thought it fair to V in multiple ways— she saw V like her own kid almost and that aside, she knew V was gay and it felt unfair to him even if V had given Johnny the go-ahead.
When they had parted ways after failing to find Adam Smasher, Rogue had looked into the space V had turned to, instinctively knowing that he was looking at where Johnny's materialized holo was. Her look then, even though Johnny knows there was no way she could see him, spoke volumes of the regrets she held. When he sought her out again after to take her on a date, he thought he could make it right. But it hadn't worked then either. He should let it rest between them. He's hurt her enough, and it's a thought he knows he would not have if not for V's influence on him.
V is nursing Jackie's commemorative drink as he chats with Claire. Johnny feels a little better, a little less restless admittedly now that they're out and about. He's keyed up— worried. V's running out of time, and they both know it. The last Relic attack he had was bad and Johnny feels sick to his stomach that he can't do more to help. Maybe he should be resting instead of indulging Johnny by going out. He has half a mind to voice this to V when Tiny Mike slides into the bar seat next to him with a greeting.
V's run into Tiny Mike a few times in the Afterlife since he first rescued him. And it's unfortunately obvious that they're both into each other. Just as V's about to ask, Mike beats him to it by suggesting they go somewhere else to finish off the night.
Johnny doesn't know why he itches under his skin, wanting to shy away as they stumble into V's bed together. Mike slips down to his knees and tugs V's pants and red heart boxers down, all while kissing his skin reverently, smiling as if he can't believe his luck that V said yes. V seems just as happy and eager, fisting a hand into Mike's blonde hair and sighing with pleasure as the man devotes his attention to eating him out, sloppy and eager to please.
Johnny knows he shouldn't care. In fact, he really should feel good— he feels V's sensations slightly muted, but he still gets the echo of arousal and pleasure fed into his engram. But despite the lingering heat in the lines of his code, he feels frustrated that V is so thoroughly distracted by Mike.
Mike lets V spread him out on the bed afterwards, lets him push his legs up and open, lets him fingerfuck an orgasm out of him, lets V fuck him with his thick, red cyberware strap afterwards. V is incandescent with pleasure, heat pulsing through him as he fucks Mike through another orgasm while the other man is still recovering and only half-hard.
Mike tugs him into a dazed kiss after they're done, laughing sleepily into his mouth. V grins as he throws an arm around his waist and cuddles up to him. Mike is out like a light after a few minutes. V is still awake, pleased and content, but not sleepy yet. He plays with Mike's hair idly, enjoying his afterglow.
"You done fuckin' around?"
V glances up at where Johnny has projected himself standing near the bed, arms crossed and glaring at him. He smiles.
"What're you so cranky 'bout, Johnny?"
"Not that I expect you to be celibate or whatever until we solve our biochip problem or until you kick the bucket, but don't you think you got better ways to spend your time?"
V's still smiling and it makes Johnny prickle beneath his skin.
"Stress relief doesn't count as a productive use of my time? If I go 24/7, I'm gonna burn out, Johnny. And," V's smile turns warm, knowing, "I know you like me 'nough that it'd bum you out if you lost me to the major leagues now."
"As if."
"Y'know, if you wanted, we could do this too," V says, effortlessly casual.
Johnny wants to spit and scowl and snarl at him for suggesting it. But he doesn't. Instead, he settles for trying to play it off as teasing and casual.
"Want my cock that bad, V? S'okay, don't blame ya— most people do."
V rolls his eyes. "It was just an offer." He turns to press a kiss to Mike's temple, his eyes still on him, something knowing in them. "Cuz I got options. Don't need you if I want cock. But relax, Johnny," V continues, his voice a low, soothing murmur. "Jealous you're not gettin' all of my attention, babe? Mike'll be gone come morning."
Johnny prickles at the petname, even as he feels a flash of something shoot down his spine.
"Whatever," he says lamely and glitches out to leave V in peace.
V wakes the next morning to an empty apartment, but there's a takeout box and coffee on the table and a text message from Mike excusing himself for having to run. It's a nice gesture, and Johnny is worried it means that Mike is interested in pursuing something more.
V doesn't seem to think so though, and happily digs into the pancakes in the box without a second thought. A trickle of syrup slips out of the corner of his mouth, into his beard as it trails down his jaw. V makes a muffled noise and sets his fork down and wipes his finger over the mess and pops it into his mouth, licking it off. Johnny doesn't know why the sight and sensation of it makes him feel hot under his skin. He tries his best to put it out of mind.
V has another few gigs today, two from Wakako, one from Dino, and one from El Capitan. He gets both of Wakako's out of the way quick— they're both muscle jobs where she needed some Tyger Claws cleared out of some areas in Japantown. The gang is still backed by Arasaka, but it turns out a gonk with bleeding edge implants is still no match for V with his previous-gen Sandevistan. V can pummel someone to pieces in seconds while they're still processing the sound of the Sandevistan activating.
The ones from Dino and El Capitan hinge on a few other things falling into place first, so he has some time to kill until then. V decides to hit the streets looking for some new clothes. V makes a fair amount of eddies nowadays, but he still enjoys buying the majority of his clothes from street shops, thrifters, and secondhand stalls. He does give everything he picks up a thorough wash before wearing it out, but Johnny wonders why the insistence on it when he could afford neokitschy clothes from Jinguji if he so wanted. He supposes that while V enjoys neokitsch decor, he doesn't care for it as a fashion style.
V's style is somewhere between Johnny and Kerry. Mostly practical, with a little bit of rugged rockerboy without the leather pants, and a little bit of gold sleek without being as obnoxious as Kerry's fancy implants. He wears gold jewelry, heavy gold chains and bracelets and thick rings with rubies. But it suits him rather than coming off as obnoxious or too try-hard. Incidentally, Johnny thinks the contrast of his rings on the black chrome of his gorilla finger implants looks nice.
V holds up a sleek black synthleather jacket with spikes on the shoulders and a minimalist red design over the left breast pocket, assessing it.
"Would look good on you," Johnny says before he thinks twice about it.
"You're saying that cuz it's your style," V replies, but he's smiling. "Though even before you started overwriting me, I guess we had pretty similar tastes. Lucky for you." He starts transferring the credits to the shopkeep as he throws the jacket over his arm.
Johnny scoffs. "You look fine when you're not wearing those skimpy vests that barely even cover your pits." He gestures, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I know you have a Sandevistan 'n all, but fighting Maelstrom bare-chested with no armor? There's something wrong with you. Fuckin' gonk behavior."
V turns to him and winks, grinning. "Make it work though, don't I?"
Johnny feels something thrum in his chest. "You're too cocky," he mutters.
The merc rolls his shoulders, seemingly in good humor. "You like it. And really, pot calling the kettle black sitch here, Johnny. Sure someone with your ego can lecture me about mine?"
He pops the trunk and tosses his new jacket inside. El Capitan calls him to fill him in on the job before Johnny can try and get another word in edgewise. V's to steal some remote access codes to some cars the fixer has his eye on. The garage where the cars are at has already been secured, but the access codes to activate the cars are under lock and key. El Capitan wanted to send someone he trusted for the job, so V's the man he has on speed dial.
While V's in the 6th Street hideout, his eyes widen as he lays them on a crimson red Quadra with an orange flame decal over it and gold-rimmed wheels. It's so laughably V's taste. V scrambles to the office to download the access codes from the computer. With the jobd done, he hops the railing, eagerly getting back onto the ground floor with the car. He peels out of the 6th Street base with the stolen Quadra, delighted, even as Johnny rolls his eyes.
"This thing's decorated like a children's toy."
"And it's perfect, Johnny," V grins, ecstatic still. "S'fucking perfect."
Johnny doesn't tease him too much though, mostly because V being so happy makes him happy, and not just because he feels V's emotions as his own. He doesn't want to interrogate what it means that V's laughter is so good to hear, that V's smile makes his own lips curl up, that V's lazy contentedness makes Johnny relax too.
V curls up in bed at the end of the day in a loose red t-shirt and black sweats. He falls asleep alongside V, since he's still limited by V's functions. When he's conscious again, it takes a few moments to adjust to being roused by V's consciousness. It's still dark out, since the room is still only lit in neon instead of sunlight. He realizes, with a jolt, that V is turned on and lazily grinding against a pillow.
"Mm," V half-mumbles into his other pillow as he rolls his hips.
He's still sleepy, but too hot and bothered to go back to sleep. Johnny doesn't know what he dreamt of, if he dreamt at all. The V of the present is still rocking his hips lazily against the pillow clamped between his thighs, huffing quiet breaths now as he starts to rouse properly. He can feel how wet V is. Fuck. Did he have a sex dream? About who?
V reaches down to press two fingers over his throbbing clit beneath his clothes, sighing at the touch and the friction of the fabric. He slips his fingers lower to rub over his folds before bringing them back up to push hard pressure over his cock. It's not like it's the first time V's ever jerked off before. And Johnny is not so much of an asshole that he intrudes upon V's private pleasure. But usually V does it quickly while in the shower with his showerhead, which Johnny can only tell because even if he tries to tuck himself away, he can still feel all of V's sensations, muted and lagged.
Johnny materializes, sitting on the edge of the bed, half-turned towards V.
"What'd you dream about?" he asks, and he doesn't want to think about how his voice is low and scratchy already. It's not a product of V's arousal— rather it's how he feels seeing V like this, hot and bothered, squirming against the sheets.
"Johnny?" V still sounds a little sleepy. He turns his head from the pillow to look up at him through half-lidded eyes. He doesn't answer and instead reaches his free hand over to cover Johnny's where it's resting on the covers. "C'mere?"
It'd be so easy to be cruel, to tease V about showing him his vulnerable side, but he doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to see what V would look like hurt by his words. It used to be all he ever wanted to do to Kerry whenever the younger man crawled onto his lap to try and kiss him. He knows better than to be cruel now, to V or to Kerry. V's hand feels so warm over Johnny's own.
"Not sure you know what you're asking," Johnny says instead. "You're still sleepy, kid. Go back to sleep."
"Mm," V squeezes his hand. "Too worked up to sleep now. You can feel it too."
"Who'd you dream about?" he asks, his voice still rough.
"Not telling," V says, and his smile is audible. "C'mere, Johnny."
Johnny shifts to crawl onto the bed and slide behind V's back, spooning against him. V takes his hand and guides it to hold onto his waist. He keeps his own hand on top and threads his fingers between Johnny's. He's taken his other hand from between his legs, instead tucking it under the pillow under his head to grip it tight. Johnny squeezes his hip and leans in to nuzzle at the nape of his neck, pressing a kiss to the knob of his spine. V breathes deep, shudders as he continues rocking his hips against the pillow clenched tight between his thighs.
Johnny is painfully aware of how hard he is in his leather pants, and there's no hiding it when V's ass bumps back against him. V doesn't seem to mind though because rather than shying away, he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat and grinds himself between Johnny's cock and the pillow.
"V," he mumbles. "What're we doing?"
"What do you think?" V whispers back, sounding amused. "Trying for a baby, obviously."
Johnny can't help the way his hips jerk at his words, rutting harshly against V's ass. V laughs, rocking back against him and sighing.
"You wish," V murmurs. He sounds smug, but fond as well as he teases, "Think I'd let you put your cock in me, babe?"
"V," Johnny half-stutters, half-growls against the nape of his neck. "Don't tease. And you're not even my type."
He doesn't know why he says it, but surely V can tell he's lying, just blowing air. V doesn't answer, instead arching his back and grinding more pointedly back on his cock, which feels like a better retort than anything he could have said. Johnny groans, gripping his hip tighter. He slips his other hand beneath V's body, snaking it around to press his hand over his stomach, pushing him back against Johnny's body. V makes a small, breathless noise in the back of his throat that Johnny decides sounds really hot. V turns his face into the pillow to let out a low sigh, almost a moan, as he grinds against the pillow in rhythm with Johnny rutting against his ass.
"V," Johnny breathes, open-mouthed and wet over his skin. He bites a soft kiss into the curve of his neck and shoulder. V has always run warm, like a furnace, but he feels even hotter where they're pressed together. "Fuck. Feels good."
V makes a vague "mhm" sound in the back of his throat before whining a little. He starts rabbiting his hips, thrusting needily against the pillow. He's so wet in his boxers, Johnny wishes he could feel him, smell him, taste him. He moans against V's neck, nosing at his hair.
"C'mon, V," he mumbles in encouragement. "Close, aren't you?"
V nods dazedly against his pillow, hips working faster. He stills suddenly, back arching as he comes, silent except for a shuddering, wet breath. Fuck. Johnny clenches his own thighs together at the feeling of how soaked V is after coming. His cock is so hard it aches and his mind is buzzing with the pleasure from V's orgasm floating over their connection. V pulls his hand from where it had been resting atop Johnny's on his hip, instead slipping it to press behind him to palm at his cock without having to roll over.
"Need some help?" V asks, and he sounds breathless and happy.
"Fuck," Johnny rests his forehead against the knob of V's spine. "Yeah, V."
He reaches down to unzip his leather pants, groaning in relief when his cock bobs out. V closes his hand around his hard, slick length and pumps slow and tight. He's still on his side, back turned towards Johnny, but his head is turned enough that he can spy a lazy smile on V's flushed face. He looks good.
"Gonna strain your arm workin' it like that," Johnny says, barely keeping his voice even.
"M'fine," V replies, humming. "And it's more than enough to get you off, babe."
Babe. There it is again. He's never cared for petnames before, but the way it sounds in V's mouth makes his heart thud heavy in his chest. He thrusts into V's grip, fucking up into his hand. It feels so good, way better than it should. Johnny can't quite bite back his moans as he finds himself getting close faster than expected. He pants over V's clammy skin now, mouthing over it and tasting salt-sweat. He presses his teeth against his skin, canines digging into soft flesh, salivating.
"Johnny," V warns, voice soft but authoritative.
Johnny growls, but doesn't bite down. Instead, he scrapes his teeth over his skin, practically drooling as he inhales the scent of him. Fuck. Has V always been so fucking sexy? He fucks faster up into his hand, shuddering as he gets close.
"V— V, shit."
"C'mon, Johnny," V coos, voice honey sweet. He reaches over with his free hand to ruck his shirt up, exposing his waist and back. "Gonna be a good boy and come on my back for me?"
Johnny barely muffles his moan against his shoulder as his hips jerk up into V's grip and he comes, wet and messy all over V's tan skin. He shudders, dazed and almost glitching out from the sheer pleasure he feels. He whimpers, overstimulated, when V continues lazily pumping his cock, coaxing more cum out of him. Johnny gasps, closing his eyes, trying to catch his breath as his hips continue to stutter needily into V's hand. His head is spinning and he feels warm and hot all over.
"V, V, fuck..."
"Good boy," V praises, a smile audible in his voice. "Gave me what I asked for."
"Shut up," he mumbles, but it's a weak retort. At least V can't see the way his face heats up at his words.
V finally lets him go and rolls over to face him. He cups his face with his clean hand and leans close to press a kiss to his forehead. It's such a tender gesture and not what Johnny expects at all. It's embarrassing to admit he'd been expecting V to kiss him, had almost tilted his face to meet him. V strokes his thumb over his cheek, smiling. He should push his hand away, reject V's gesture of tenderness. But he doesn't, and he doesn't know why he doesn't.
"That was nice," he says. "Now scooch, Silverhand. I wanna shower."
"V, it's fuckin' three A.M. or some shit," Johnny complains, his voice rough. "Just go back to sleep."
V shakes his head, his expression fond. He sits up and tugs his t-shirt off over his head and tosses it past him onto the ground. He crawls over Johnny to try and get off the bed. Johnny reaches up and grabs his waist, tugging him down to pull him chest to chest, flush against him.
"Didn't take you for the cuddly type," V chuckles, nuzzling Johnny's beard. "Let me up, c'mon. You'll feel better after a shower too. Then we can sleep in."
The way V says "we" makes Johnny's chest tighten in a way he's not ready to analyze.
"Not cuddly," he mutters. "Just too early for this shit, V. Go back to sleep or hurry up and shower."
He grunts and lets go of V, raising his arm to cover his eyes instead. V doesn't push or say anything and instead climbs off of him and off the bed. He can feel the ground beneath V's feet, can feel the lukewarm water on V's fingertips when he turns the showerhead to let it warm up first. When the water finally runs hot, V steps under the spray, sighing in relief. Johnny doesn't materialize in the shower with him, instead dissipating entirely and just focusing on the sensation of the water running over V's skin, over his skin, if he concentrates hard enough. He feels oddly sleepy, even though he knows V isn't feeling the same.
"Tired, huh?" V asks, voice fond. "Almost done here."
He finishes rinsing off and towels himself just enough so that he's not dripping wet before climbing back into bed naked. He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, seemingly lulled to sleep via Johnny.
They don't talk about it in the morning.
V had been plainly casual and easy-going about it when he first suggested it, but Johnny was too proud to admit he was attracted to him. It doesn't have to mean anything now, but Johnny keeps turning over V's tender actions and fond words in his head. If V notices, he doesn't bring it up. He gets dressed in the morning in a black and gold tanktop and a pair of black jeans before topping it off with a garishly bright metallic red vest.
V stops by a diner and orders the same food as last time— a double cheeseburger and fries with tartar dipping sauce. Johnny doesn't know what it means, if it's a sign Johnny's overwriting him or if it's just V trying to be nice again. He eats the cheeseburger in a hurry though when he realizes he's going to be late to his meet with Wakako's client. He munches on the fries on the go while he drives, easily weaving through Night City's nightmarish traffic one-handed.
He skids the car somehow perfectly into a narrow parking spot and hops out of the car for the meet. The client is some ex-corpo whistleblower named Aleksei from Militech. He didn't finish corrupting the files on some unethical project at the corp before he was nearly caught, so he's sending V to finish the job. V's still snacking on his fries when he talks to the client. Aleksei must have heard about V's eccentricities or just not care, because he gives V the low down and a daemon shard to infect the network and remaining files.
"Thanks, should be done in 40 minutes tops," V says, pocketing the shard with his clean hand. He pops the fingers of his other hand into his mouth to lick off the salt from the fries. "Sorry, skipped breakfast," he says, and then, "Text you when it's done?"
Aleksei is a tall brunette with a dark beard, and thin chrome lines under his brown eyes. He doesn't have any other visible chrome— unusual for a corpo. Johnny realizes with a jolt that V thinks he's pretty, which is why he's subtly eyeing the man.
The ex-corpo gives an almost shy smile. "I think I'd prefer a call if only to see you again," he says.
V smiles, pleased, preening. "Well, I can do that too. Or... you'd rather meet in person?"
"I'd like that."
Aleksei offers his hand to shake which V chuckles a little at. The man shakes his hand firmly before turning it over and raising it to his lips to kiss the back of his hand. V's heart flutters in his chest, apparently delighted by the gesture, much to Johnny's chagrin.
"There's a ramen shop in Cherry Blossom Market," Aleksei continues. "Have you been?"
"The one where Rainbow Cadenza used to be?" V grins. "Yeah, I know it."
If V notices Johnny is boiling beneath his skin, he doesn't show it. He flashes Aleksei another charming wide smile and a wink. The ex-corpo flushes just barely, smiling back before waving goodbye. V paces back to his car— Johnny's Porsche— with a bounce to his step, clearly pleased. Johnny grabs V's hand and slams the car door shut when he opens it, getting into his space, crowding him against the car.
"Hi, Johnny," V says easily. "Cranky again? You were so sweet last night."
"V," he snarls, teeth bared like a dog. He wants to snap his jaws in a bruising bite into V's skin and he wants it to show so other men will know he's taken. "Stop fuckin' around."
"Why?" V asks, lounging back against the car. "Said yourself you don't expect me to be celibate until we figure out a permanent solution to the biochip. Not allowed to go on a date with a cute guy? Not allowed to fuck him after?"
"No," Johnny snaps.
"Forgettin' something, Johnny," V murmurs, reaching up to card his fingers through his hair gently before clenching his hand into a fist and yanking. He pulls hard enough that it stings, wets Johnny's tear line and makes him gasp. "Not yours. Don't get to tell me what to do, babe."
"V," Johnny half-gasps, half-growls, pulling against his grasp. It's no use. Even without his gorilla implants, V is definitely stronger than him. "Got more pressing matters, kid," he tries instead.
V shrugs. He lets go of his hair and nudges Johnny back with his shoulder. He gets into the car and starts driving to the coordinates for the job, apparently uninterested in discussing this further. Johnny flickers into the passenger seat, still feeling heated.
"Sure he's ex-corpo now, but he was still a corporate pig at one point," Johnny sneers. "Thought you never bothered with those types."
V doesn't answer immediately. He drums his fingers on the wheel. "He's a whistleblower, like Sandra Dorsett. I can respect people like that, at the least. And he's cute."
"You're fuckin' easy," Johnny spits. "Whore. Gonna open your legs for any pretty boy you see?"
"Johnny," V says, and his voice has suddenly dropped to low and dangerous. He's clutching the wheel tighter now. "Don't ever talk to me like that."
"Or what?" Johnny taunts. He's gotten under his skin now. "What are you gonna do, huh, V?"
V glances at him before abruptly pulling over on the side of the road. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pillbox. He pops an omega blocker in his mouth before Johnny can even reach to stop him. He fizzles out, feeling like someone's pulling a blindfold over his eyes.
And he's gone.
When he regains consciousness in V's body, V's sitting in the car, apparently texting Regina about a gig she wants him to do later this week after she gets more details from her client. He doesn't need to announce his presence— V seems to have sensed his return. He pauses in the middle of his texting before resuming without saying anything. Johnny can spy the time on V's Kiroshi HUD telling him a few hours have passed since he took the blockers. V finishes replying to Regina and leans back against the seat.
"Calmed down yet?" he asks.
Johnny doesn't know what to say. It felt like he'd been forced to sleep for the past few hours, similar to Mikoshi, but not as unpleasant. He'd forgotten what it felt like. V's only ever taken the omega blockers once to actively suppress him, and that was when they first met nearly two months ago now. He feels dull and sluggish still, the fight drained out of him. He means to answer, but he must not say anything because V makes a noise in the back of his throat.
"Johnny?" he asks, and he sounds a little worried. "You there?"
"Yeah," Johnny manages finally. "Feel like I got hit by a semi-truck."
V is silent and Johnny can feel the flux of their minds touching, their bond fluctuating like V is trying to probe his thoughts.
"Didn't realize it'd hit you that hard," he says finally, sounding apologetic.
"S'fine, V," he mumbles. He wants to apologize, but he doesn't know how. Instead, he asks, "Aren't you going to go meet that guy?"
"Took a rain check," V replies. "I wasn't in the mood for ramen anyway."
Johnny still feels a stupid amount of relief that V won't be seeing the man, even though it's not any of his business. V was right that he has no claim on him and that he owes V at least the decency to let him get laid in peace. But he hadn't wanted V to sleep with him and it had nothing to do with whether the man was an ex-corpo or not. He just hadn't wanted V to look at any other man, maybe. He pauses when he feels a pang of pain. He focuses for a moment to get his bearings on V's body and sensations.
"Feelin' that sharp near your heart again," Johnny says quietly.
Is that why he canceled? He can also feel that on top of the chest pain, V's developing a headache and nausea— the way he gets sometimes before a particularly bad Relic attack.
V shrugs, but Johnny doesn't miss the furrow of his brow. "Yeah, it's fine. No one needs anythin' done today so I'll go nap."
He looks up from his car when he hears yelling, already ready to start the car in case of trouble. But instead of any gangers, he spies three badges across the road, tucked behind a cop car. It's not really his business, but curiosity gets the better of him.
"V," Johnny warns. "You're not in top form."
"I'll be fine. Just gonna see what's up."
V has no love for authority or badges, but when the cops tell him what the corpo did to that girl, he waves them off so he can finish the job. He squats in front of the man as the cops leave and watches as the corpo tries to sit up, blearily.
"Heard what you did to that girl," V says, and his voice is icy in a way Johnny has never heard before.
The corpo coughs wetly. "I didn't know—"
"Bullshit you didn't know," V spits. "You knew exactly what you were doing. You gave that girl a spiked BD and fried her. Why?"
The man groans, leaning back against the wall. "You know how it is... sometimes a girl won't give you time of day and you have to... give them a nudge."
The last word barely leaves his lips before V punches him, breaking his jaw, but holding back enough from what Johnny knows would otherwise be lethal force. The man screams in pain, trying to cradle his broken jaw. V fists a hand in his hair and wrenches it back cruelly.
"You've never known what it's like to feel so small and vulnerable 'fore," V says, and his voice is so low and cold. "Let me teach you."
He breaks the man's arm next and then crushes his hand in his fist. The man is weeping and wailing, choking on his own blood and bile. V puts his hand over his face before finally smashing his head back against the wall so hard it splatters blood and brain matter everywhere. Johnny's seen the incidental violence of V using his gorilla arms to fight, which does often result in grotesque dismemberment and viscera. But he's never seen V so intentional about enacting violence.
"Hey," he says, and his voice comes out softer than he thought himself capable of. "You okay, kid?"
V looks at what's left of the guy's corpse before standing up. He has blood all over half of his face and one of his hands. It drips onto the pavement from his fingers. He turns away from the mess to look at Johnny, but he doesn't say anything.
"V," Johnny prompts. "What is it?"
"I just can't stand that kind of shit," V says finally, his voice quiet. "Saw it all the time growin' up. The way corpos who fancied a street rat would do anything they could to coerce them to sleep with them. Sudden debts, spiked BDs, kidnappings, the fuckin' works. I was never formally with the Valentinos, but I helped them. We fuckin' killed those dogs whenever we managed to catch 'em."
He's silent for a long moment. Johnny waits.
"But you know how it is in Night City. Not like it always leads to a happy ending. Sometimes the damage is already done."
Johnny's seen V handle everything Night City has had to throw at him and never waver. Johnny thinks of how many times he's seen V dripping in blood, a neon-light halo behind his head from the streetlights, and he thought nothing could break V. But right now, he sounds tired and weary in a way Johnny has never heard before. V rubs a hand over his forehead, unconcerned about the blood he's smudging. Johnny can feel his headache from before getting worse with how upset he is.
"V," he says softly. "Let's go home, kid."
V normally tries to rinse off any blood he has on him before he heads home so he doesn't look like he just walked off of a horror movie set or out of a scav haunt. But his headspace is fucked up and he isn't feeling well, so he makes the walk through Megabuilding H10 still smeared with dried blood. The residents give him a wide berth, and V ignores all of them as he drudges to his apartment.
"Shower," Johnny nudges. "Then you can sleep, kid. Just enough to get the blood off of you."
V seems too tired to even argue. He starts shucking off his jacket as he walks, leaving a trail of clothes to the shower. He coughs up blood and sways as he waits for the water to warm. Before Johnny can think twice, he materializes and guides V gently under the hot stream of water before he can fall over. V makes a quiet, relieved noise when the water hits him, sluicing over his dark skin. His mindfulness seems to return to him as he reaches up to slowly scrub at the dried blood on his face.
Johnny hesitates before running his fingers through his mohawk, shifting it to let water run evenly through his hair. V makes another quiet noise, pleased. His posture is finally starting to relax a little. Johnny worries still about the pang in his chest, near his heart.
"You're bein' nice," V mumbles. He reaches for the shampoo bottle and squirts some into his hair.
"Yeah, well," Johnny combs the shampoo through his hair, "don't get used to it, kid."
It's not the first time he's done this.
He and Kerry used to share shitty apartments where there was barely ever more than five minutes of hot water from the shower. They got tired of arguing who would get to shower first and showered together half the time. They would share shampoo and conditioner and body wash and speedrun getting clean while the water was still hot. Kerry had leered at him a few times at the start, making a flirty comment about if Johnny wanted to fool around in the shower. They never did, and in the end, it became less of an awkward and oddly intimate affair and more like an easy routine. On several occasions, he'd washed Kerry's hair for him when it was badly tangled, especially if Kerry was still hungover or not feeling well.
Johnny's never seen V in such a bad headspace before. He remembers in the oil fields when he'd said he had at least salvaged his relationship with V, to which V had flatly responded that he'd fucked that up too. He's tried to be better since, but his outburst earlier today reminds him that he's still shit at treating the people he cares about well. Johnny works his hands through V's hair, rubbing the shampoo in. This is the least he can do, he thinks, for now.
"You're being really nice...," V murmurs, sounding sleepy but happy.
Johnny has to blink away the incoming wave of drowsiness that blankets over him, courtesy of V. He pinches V's waist, grinning when the merc makes a startled noise and slaps at his hand.
"Tryin' to make sure you don't fall asleep in the shower, V. Be a pretty terrible way for big bad merc legend V to go— died slipping in his shower."
"Can you go back to shutting up and washing my hair?" V says it more than asks it, but he sounds amused and a bit more attentive at least.
Johnny huffs, pretending to sound put upon as he continues to wash V's hair. It's soft and doesn't tangle easily at least, unlike Kerry's hair when he had it long. V relaxes into his touch for a little while before leaning into the stream to rinse his hair clean. He seems steadier on his feet so Johnny flickers out to let him finish his shower in peace. V shuffles out a few minutes later, nude, but still toweling his hair.
"Feelin' better, V?" he asks. He glitches in to appear across the room by his wardrobe, leaning against it.
"Yeah," V says, and he sounds grateful. His gaze on Johnny is warm. "Thanks, Johnny."
He finishes toweling off and crosses the room. Johnny stays where he's leaning against the wall, his eyes on V as V starts rifling through his closet. He pulls on a pair of simple red boxer briefs and then sifts through his sleepwear. Despite his words, V's mind is wandering again, back to the corpo he killed earlier, back to Evelyn who he couldn't save, back to other people in his life he had failed.
"V," Johnny murmurs. He steps closer, puts a hand on his waist, right above the waistband of his briefs.
V looks up at him, suspicious, but he doesn't pull away.
Johnny rubs his thumb into his skin. "Stop thinkin' 'bout it, V. You're gonna think yourself into an early grave if you keep revisiting 'what ifs' in your head." He's had fifty odd years of that in Mikoshi. He doesn't recommend it. "You can't save everyone."
V stays silent before sighing and scrubbing his hands over his face. "I know," he says finally. "S'just hard sometimes."
Johnny hesitates before he steps even closer, leaning in to nose at his cheek. "C'mon, V," he murmurs. "Let it go. Let me take care of you— get you out of your head."
"Thought last time was a one-off— that I wasn't your type," V replies, lips brushing over his beard as he turns to look at him. "Said so yourself."
"Maybe I lied, who knows?" Johnny mutters, and he kisses V before the merc can retort.
They hadn't kissed when they had sex the other night, he realizes. He shifts to pull away, wondering if he's fucked up with V again. But V hooks a finger into his belt loop and tugs on it. He leans close to bite at his lower lip, chuckling. He slides his other hand under his hair to cup the nape of Johnny's neck. He kisses Johnny back, languid and slow and Johnny wonders why it took him this long to realize that he's wanted to kiss V.
"Knew you were lying," V says, but he sounds breathless and amused now, which is much better than the weariness he spoke with earlier. "Seen your memories. You dig the rough-round-the-edges type and wanna-be rockerboys. Ker's probably the only one who doesn't fit your usual type. Too pretty and twinky."
Johnny scoffs, and he wants to be defensive about multiple things in what V just said, but then V is nosing at his cheek and cupping his face. It feels so good to have him close to him like this. If Johnny doesn't think too hard about it, it almost feels real, like he's really here with V pressed up against him. He itches to feel him pressed skin-to-skin to him. V is still bare save for his boxer briefs, skin a touch damp still from his shower.
"You want me?" V murmurs, fingers brushing against Johnny's jaw, rasping against his beard. "Say it, Johnny."
"Want you, V," he says immediately, feeling as though in a trance. "Let me have you."
"Johnny," V sighs, pleased. He nuzzles his jaw, presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth and smiles when Johnny turns to press their lips together properly. "Shoulda done this ages ago, you know."
"Needed to work through some shit first," Johnny mumbles, kissing him again.
V laughs a little, delighted, and hugs him closer. "You're cute."
"M'not fucking cu—" Johnny jerks and gasps when V gropes him abruptly through his leather pants.
V hums his pleasure at his reaction, eyes going half-lidded as he squeezes him again. He can surely feel Johnny filling out at his touch, already half-hard at the promise of more. He presses another kiss to the corner of his mouth and Johnny can feel his happy smile. He rubs a knuckle against the bulge beneath his zipper, teasing.
"That's flatterin', Johnny. Got you this excited?"
Johnny wants to be difficult, contrary, but it's hard to deny V or himself any longer. And it feels like he's spent a lifetime pushing V away and pretending he didn't care as much as he does. He made that mistake with Rogue and Alt fifty odd years ago— he should know better now. He noses near V's ear, huffing quietly.
"Yeah, V. Gonna do something about it?"
V stills, surprised by his honest answer. "Johnny," he mumbles, sounding affectionate. He shifts his hand down from his jaw to squeeze at his waist. "You gonna make this easy for me?"
"When have I ever?"
"You're right," V grins, nipping at his neck. "I probably wouldn't like you as much if you weren't a brat."
He flushes warm at his words, but before he can say anything, V sinks his teeth into his skin. It's almost hard enough to bleed, certainly enough to bruise if Johnny was flesh and blood. He groans, the pain blossoming into pleasure that takes root deep in his stomach, hot and molten. He shudders under the press of V's teeth, under the sensation of his tongue swiping over the indentation of his teeth. V lifts his other hand from his cock to also squeeze around his waist, manhandling him back towards the bed. Johnny lets himself be pushed, his own arms scrabbling to wrap around his waist, pressing him close as they stumble across the room.
V's laughing when he pushes Johnny back onto the bed. They fall into a tangled mess of limbs on the sheets. V shoves at him, prompting him to move up until they're further onto the bed proper. V sits up on his lap, grinning down at him. The look in his eyes is so warm and his smile makes the corners of his eyes wrinkle. Johnny swallows, raising his hands to grasp loosely over his hips.
"V," he starts, voice thick. He squeezes his hips, thumbs rubbing over the waistband of his briefs. "This isn't just... I wasn't offering just to be nice."
V's eyes narrow and he frowns. "What's that supposed to mean? This just about gettin' your dick wet?"
"No, V." Somehow being honest like this makes him feel vaguely embarrassed when he's never known any shame before. "It means this isn't a one-off. Last time shouldn't have happened like that either. I want to— I want to do it properly."
V stares at him, processing his words. "All of it?"
"Yeah," Johnny mumbles, feeling a little warm at the way V is looking at him. "Input stuff or whatever you wanna call it."
V smiles, looking happy in a way that makes Johnny's heart thud faster in his chest. "You know if you say that that I'm gonna expect you to take me on dates?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. His voice is fond though.
"Yeah, I know," Johnny replies, his own voice softer than he's ever heard it. "And I want to."
V grins and leans down to kiss him, slow and deliberate. Johnny wraps his arms around his waist to hold him close as he kisses him back. It feels comforting in a way he can't quite explain, but it scratches an itch he didn't know he had, feels like something soothing down his spine, easing him to relax. V nuzzles his cheek with his own, another tender and affectionate gesture before he sits up, shifting to straddle one of Johnny's thighs. Johnny's about to ask him what he's doing when V settles his weight down, sighing in pleasure as he grinds against his thigh. Johnny would make some sort of teasing comment if his mouth wasn't suddenly so dry.
It's so tame compared to the usual shit he gets up to in the bedroom, but there's something unspeakably sexy about the way V moves. He's getting wet beneath his red boxer briefs, a damp patch on the front right below where the bulge of his clit protrudes. Fuck, he feels like a fucking horny virgin all of a sudden. V's rubbing off on his thigh and he's suddenly painfully aware of how hard he is, just from watching. He pushes himself to sit up, rubbing his hands over V's waist as he stares at him.
"Johnny," V sighs, eyes fluttering shut as he thrusts his hips faster. "Hurry up 'n touch me." He gasps suddenly, leaning forward and dropping his forehead down to rest on Johnny's shoulder.
"V," Johnny breathes, and he feels so hot under his own skin, burning. He's just lines of code, but it feels real all the same.
He lifts V's head up by cupping his chin, staring into his dazed, half-lidded eyes. He looks so blissed out. Johnny wants to see him like that more often. V parts his lips when Johnny swipes his thumb over his lower lip.
"Johnny," he hums, breathless. "Take care of me like you promised."
Johnny kisses him, deep and filthy this time, sliding his tongue between V's parted lips. V scrapes his teeth over his tongue, kissing him back just as messily and eagerly. He slides his hands up from his waist to trace over the swell of his pecs, to his peaked nipples. He thumbs over his nipples and pinches at them, twisting and teasing at them. V moans his approval into his mouth, still working himself on Johnny's thigh.
"Y'like that?" Johnny pulls back enough to breathlessly nuzzle his jaw, pressing a kiss against his beard. "So fuckin' pretty, V."
V moans, losing his rhythm for a moment before resuming frantically rocking against his thigh. V's memories of other times he's jerked off by grinding and rutting on things fills Johnny's head. V quiet and biting back whines while he ruts against the edge of his mattress or against the arm of his couch or on someone else's leg. That last thought immediately makes the ugly jealousy in Johnny rear its head, as if he has any right to be when this all happened well before they met each other.
"You won't need anyone else," Johnny growls anyway before kissing him again hard, stealing his breath away. "M'gonna make it so good for you, V. Won't want anyone else after I'm through with you."
"Mm," V kisses him back just as hard, biting at his mouth, tugging his lip between his teeth. "Cuz you're gonna be my input, right?"
"Yeah, V," Johnny answers automatically without even thinking. He kisses him sloppily, open-mouthed. "Gonna be your input, gonna take care of you, treat you right."
"Mhm," V nuzzles at his jaw, kissing at his beard. "You don't have the best track record, Johnny," he murmurs. "So you better be the best damn input I've ever had if you're gonna make all these promises."
"Gonna be," Johnny pants, kissing his neck, every part of him he can reach. "V... fuck, you smell so good."
He rolls V's nipples under his thumbs again before slipping one hand down, snapping the waistband of his boxer briefs with a finger. Before V can think of expressing his annoyance, Johnny slips his fingers beneath, framing his clit between his index and middle finger as he pets over his slick folds.
"Fuck," Johnny breathes, feeling almost dazed with arousal. "You're so wet, V."
"Johnny." V reaches down to hold his wrist tight, keeping it in place as he starts rutting into the v of his fingers. "Gonna let me use you?"
"Fuck, you wish," Johnny breathes, but he makes no move to pull away. He curls his fingers even while V grinds into them, petting over his folds. "Jesus Christ, you're soaking wet. Need it, V?"
V kisses him, half-gasping, half-moaning into his mouth as he snaps his hips faster. He wishes V was rutting on his bare skin, wet and slick on his thigh. He slides his free hand around his waist to press the pads of his fingers to the small of his back, coaxing him to fuck himself against his thigh and fingers harder. The wet sound of it makes Johnny's tongue feel heavy in his mouth, wanting nothing more than to spread V open and eat him out until he's senseless and dumb with pleasure. But V is enjoying himself and Johnny would be lying if he said it wasn't pleasurable to just watch the way V moves, hypnotizing and sensual in how he chases his own high.
"Gonna come for me, darlin'?" Johnny rumbles, petting at the small of his back.
V nods, eyes hazy. He manages an uncoordinated open-mouthed kiss before gasping as he arches his back and comes. His release knocks the wind out of Johnny's lungs and he can hear his own whine as V's pleasure thrums through him, molten hot. He shudders, his cock throbbing and twitching in his own pants. He feels dazed as he processes the feeling of V's cum oozing over his fingers, slick and hot.
"Johnny," V groans, low and pleased. He grasps his face in his hands, kissing him slow and languid. "Just had to wear your teeth down for me," he slurs into his mouth. "Jealous bastard."
Johnny wants to protest in embarrassment, but V's right that he had been such an asshole because he'd been jealous of V sleeping with other men. They should be together; it's unthinkable that anyone else could understand what the other is going through. He's realizing now that V thinks the same— only that he wanted Johnny to admit it and accept it.
"V," he mumbles into his mouth. "Meant what I said. Wanna do this right— all of it."
V smiles at him, so bright and warm, Johnny feels his coded heart clench and thump heavy in his chest. "Took you long enough," he says, but it sounds affectionate. "You've wanted me for so long, idiot."
"What gave you that idea?" Johnny grumbles. His cheeks are flushed and his contrary protesting is just for his own ego.
V grins and gropes his cock still trapped inside of his leather pants, laughing at the way Johnny's breath hitches and his hips jerk. "Think this part of you is more honest, Johnny," he teases. "You think with your dick so much, but not when it comes to me?"
"Fuck off," Johnny mutters, flushing warmer under V's smug gaze. "You gonna do anything about said cock?"
V laughs again and leans down to kiss him, squeezing teasingly. "If you take me out on a date after."
Johnny half-groans, half-laughs as V works his hand over him again. "Sure, kid," he manages, shuddering as V works the zipper of his pants down. "How does dinner at Tom's Diner and then some Watson Whore episodes back here sound to you?"
V chuckles, sounding delighted. "I'd like that."
He wraps his hand around Johnny's cock and smears precum down his length, biting at his neck as he starts stroking him. He was already painfully close and on edge from watching and pleasuring V. V's touches are firm and confident, working his hand quickly on him. Where he expects V to tease him, V only murmurs praise, pumping his hand faster as Johnny bucks his hips up, desperate for more friction.
"That's it, Johnny," V hums, nosing at his ear. "C'mon."
Johnny groans and turns his face to kiss him as he comes, his hand curling behind V's neck to hold him close. He shudders, mind going blank with pleasure as he continues to kiss V, sloppy and uncoordinated. V strokes him through his orgasm, his touch gentle but insistent as he coaxes another weak spurt of cum out of him. Johnny moans, grabbing V's wrist when it becomes too much.
"Mm, letting you rest and then holding you to that date," V says, nuzzling into his jaw as he lets go.
Johnny wraps an arm around him, hugging him close. "There'll be many more," he says softly. "Dates or whatever. Just— don't fucking expect me to always be good at this input stuff," he mumbles.
V settles against his side and Johnny can feel the smile he presses into his shoulder, sincere and happy.
"Think we'll be okay, Johnny."