Chapter Text
[V, typing:]
I could almost say that the last few months have been the best of my life, almost. The Afterlife is working out pretty well for me, Rogue keeps in touch, makes sure I’m not fucking up her legacy, but it turns out that I’m a damn good fixer, got a good crew, making top eddies. Kerry is being awesome, every day I’m surprised, grateful, whatever that he’s still here, every day he reminds me he’s going nowhere. If it wasn’t for the whole dying biz things’d be preem, well, that and missing Johnny.
A couple of months ago, I was standing in the middle of the apartment, who am I kidding, the penthouse, that I’d just bought with a world-famous rock star. Let that sink in for a minute, me, a merc streetkid from the slums had just bought a fucking penthouse apartment with a millionaire rock star. Surrounded by boxes and unachievable possibilities I sat on the floor and cried like a baby, that’s how Kerry found me when he came up, curled up and rocking on the floor with tear tracks marking my cheeks. I tried to explain, to make him understand what it all meant to me, what him being there meant to me, and how futile it all was, but words wouldn’t come. Poor Ker, didn’t know what to think, prolly thought I thought I’d made some terrible mistake. All I could do was hang onto his neck and breathe into his shoulder until it passed.
Since then, I’ve managed to keep it together most of the time. Vik’s pills keep me on the right side of sane and the pain editors take care of the worst of it. I still have bad days, days when even getting out of bed isn’t gonna happen, but I’m getting better at working through it. Working out helps, Ker and me do it together, well kinda, we start out doing it together then he sits and watches my ass on the running machine for the rest of the time. Meditation helps too, I picked up bits from Misty and from a weird Monk guy who I used to bump into, but Ker’s been doing it for years and taught me a lot. He can meditate for hours, I can tell how relaxed he is from the snoring, heh.
Even though Johnny’s gone from my brain, I still hear his echo sometimes. If I do something gonk I hear him laughing, when I’m sad he calls me a pussy, when I’m with Kerry he sighs loudly and makes hurling noises. It’s not like before though, not as solid, not as comforting.
Me and Kerry have had time to get to know one another, to talk properly, without the distraction of Johnny or Arasaka, or the awkwardness of oversharing to a new partner. We tell each other everything, well, I tell him everything I can remember which isn’t much because of the whole relic stealing my mind thing, and he has a similar problem, but more because of the whole being high or passed-out drunk most of his waking hours rock star thing, we can both remember one thing though, what it’s like for Johnny Silverhand to take over your mind.
Curled up together on the couch watching Watson Whore and eating popcorn one night, Kerry asked if Johnny talked about him much, when he was with me, you know. I had to think hard, it’s difficult to separate the things I just knew, because Johnny knew them, and the things he actually told me. I admitted that he didn’t much, unless Kerry was doing something that annoyed him, which was pretty much everything he did, but even then there was a fondness in what he was saying. Kerry pondered this, “Was he sorry? For 15 years of fucking me up I mean? Was the bastard sorry?”
Kerry, I knew, had gone through years of therapy, like nearly 50 years, to get over his feelings for Johnny. The all-consuming love he’d once had for him had become a memory tainted with the knowledge of how Johnny had abused it and played with Kerry’s emotions, simultaneously driving him away and drawing him back. Kerry was all the stronger for it, knew his own mind better than he ever had and wasn’t so easily manipulated, but he would admit himself he was still a fool for love.
When Johnny came back, it was like a dagger in Kerry’s heart, all the doubts, hopes and dreams of his 20 year old self re-emerged, but over the few months that Johnny was here, he realised that the love had gone, replaced with self-belief and clarity, “Best 2 mill I ever spent,” he joked to me once. But the one thing that still riled him was that Johnny could be such a dick and never admit he was wrong.
“He never said it, but I know he felt it, he’d think about you all the time, and he’d smile if I was thinking about you. He missed you Ker, you were his best friend, the only one who stuck with him when everybody else left, he knew he’d been a jerk and wished he hadn’t been, that sounds a lot like being sorry to me.”
This seemed to satisfy Kerry, who took a big handful of popcorn, threw it in the air and completely failed to catch any of it in his mouth, making us both fall about giggling.
-
It’s getting real close now to the 6 months that Alt said I had left in me, I have to take it easy some days, but with the right combination of pills and booze I make it through most days in one piece and with Vik’s help I think I can stretch another few weeks out of it yet.
I’m pushing forward with my plan, the guy at the club who made me the offer calls himself Mr Blue eyes, dumb name and I can’t dig up any other info on him which should worry me, but I haven’t got time for that. Day after tomorrow the con is on, I’ve got the timetable, the blueprints and a promise, what more could I need?
I sat Kerry down last night to tell him the plan, I didn’t want him worrying and wondering what had happened to me like the last time I pulled something like this. He was horrified, of course, couldn’t see how I could pull it off, but when I told him what was on the table he reluctantly accepted that I had to try, that it was worth the risk, but I still felt like I’d broken his heart. After the best hug I’d ever gotten, he fixed us a drink and carried on as if nothing had happened, that’s just what he does when there’s stuff going on he doesn’t know how to deal with.
-
The drink went down easily, one more followed, but if this was going to be my last night with Ker I wanted to remember it, so when he goes to stand to fix the third, I hook my fingers into his belt loops and pull him back. He lands next to me with a bump and a smile and arches an eyebrow as I stare into his eyes for a moment before pressing into his soft lips.
I need to feel him, to memorise the contours of his beautiful face, of his gorgeous body, so my hands frame his face, thumbs tracing the gold of his cheekbones as the kiss becomes messier, more like devouring, with licks and nips, gasps and groans. I feel his back arch as his grip on my hips tightens, but I don’t want him here like this, I want him in our bed. Running my fingertips down his chest I settle my hand in the heat between his legs and rest it there as I break the kiss and let my eyes wander back up to look into his, earning a shivering sigh from the breathtaking man next to me.
Ideally, I’d be scooping him up, carrying him up the stairs and throwing him on the bed, followed by hours of intense, searching sex that neither of us would ever forget, however, coughing up blood and bile is not a good look or particularly romantic so I settle for grabbing the front of his jeans and pulling him after me up the stairs.
After some initial pouting, he let me undress him slowly. I tried to fix each uncovered patch of skin in my mind as I softly kissed it, the mole on his hip, the gold on his chest, the dark, swollen nipples, the detail of his tattoos. My tongue traced the outline of his abdominal muscles and worked downwards teasing the waistband of his pants. Kerry gently, almost reverently, stroked my hair as I worked the buttons open and nuzzled into his pubic hair, inhaling his musk and enjoying the heady feeling of being so close.
Restraint – of this kind at least – is not a regular feature of our sex life, but it seems to be working for us, I know my pants are now uncomfortably tight and as I slide Kerry’s down, his cock springs out already with a dewdrop of pre-cum invitingly sitting on the tip, it takes all my willpower to ignore it and my lips continue their journey brushing the freckles on his hip, the short, soft hairs on his legs and down towards his feet, kissing each in turn before crawling on all fours back up his body to lick the tip of that beautiful cock.
Ker had been so patient, I think he knew I needed it like this tonight, but now his prize was within reach his patience went out of the window. I teased my tongue around the head, traced it up the shaft, then a firm grip on my hair and an impatient thrust of the hips slipped him past my lips. I didn’t mind, I wanted the taste of him lodged in my brain for however long I had left, the way he smelt – sweat and sandalwood – the sighs and moans as I gently squeeze his balls and open to let him slide down to my throat. I feel him arch and tighten and let his cum paint my tongue, closing my eyes to savour it and to remember the wonderfully filthy gasp he lets out as he finishes.
I just want to be around him right now, before I go. Want to take in the things he says and does, smell his cologne, taste his coffee, feel his skin. If he’s bothered by the attention, he hasn’t mentioned it, in fact he hasn’t even tried to leave my side, always searching for my hand, preferring to cuddle on the couch or stay curled up in bed, hands gently caressing each other’s body, searching each other out. If this all goes to shit, that’ll be my only regret, that Kerry will be alone again, just thinking about it makes my chest hurt.
-
[V, audio diary]
On the way to the Afterlife now to meet with Mr Blue Eyes before driving down to meet the AV that’ll rendezvous with the rocket to take me to the space-station – Jeez even that part sounds ridiculous.
Had a pretty chilled morning, just what I needed, not feeling too bad, not great but well enough to get this done. I’ve been on at Ker about the drugs thing and here I am rattling with the fucking things just to get me through the day. We had a good talk before I set off, he opened up, told me what I meant to him, I tried to tell him what he meant to me, but there aren’t the words. It was nice, but if I don’t come back I’m scared I’ll be ripping his heart out and honestly, don’t need that extra pressure right now.
He low-key tried to talk me out of doing the job, was acting like it was all fine, but damn he looked sad when I broke our hug to get in the AV, couldn’t even look at me as I left.
-
Made it to the rocket, got a couple of hours before the Crystal Palace will spin into view so tryin to go over the plan in my head. Getting in with be the easy part, I can hack the maintenance hatch from here, a couple of cleaning guys have received hefty eddies to look the other way, so I can leave my spacesuit in the janitor’s room and move on to the main server room in the maintenance staff overalls that’ll be left there. Should be a five second job to load up the malware to the casino’s network, it was a fucker of a program to put together but I’ve got no worries it’ll do what I need it to. Then I’ll need to hide the overalls in the bathroom cistern and head to the main casino floor looking like a high-class roller in the suit I’m wearing under all this. Need to stick around long enough to let the daemon do its work, then delta before the panic sets in and the place is locked down.
It’s not about the eddies – though I will be transferring a hefty amount to cover my fee, it’s about info, leverage. Mr Blue Eyes is after the security footage and guest manifests, dunno what he needs it for, don’t really care.
What could go wrong?
-
-
[V, typing:]
So much could’ve gone wrong, it was a fucking stupid thing to do – as Kerry has pointed out numerous times – fact is, it didn’t, it fucking worked. I know, I can’t believe it either.
Mr Blue Eyes kept all his promises, even threw in a bonus for a job well done. The heist was big, like really big news. The Crystal Palace is dead in the sky for now, they got everyone out OK, but the systems are fried. All the corps are upping their security systems in a panic, they don’t have to bother on my account, I’m done.
I’ve been here in Sweden for, what, four weeks. I’m not sure of most of what went on, but I do know that there are three Arasaka docs who are now disgustingly rich and that I don’t seem to be dying anymore. There’s a hot itchy scar over the place where Johnny used to be, it’s funny but I can almost see him again, but it’s more like an echo of what was there before.
Got brought straight here from the job, Kerry had beaten me to it, sneaky fuck never said he was planning a trip that morning. He’s never left, brings me food, tells me stories, even brought an acoustic guitar that he plays quietly to help me sleep. Sleeps on a cot they brought in and put right next to my bed.
It’s nova that the coughing fits have stopped, the headaches and shit have mostly gone too, but I feel week as a kitten, in fact Kerry’s started calling me his kitten which I’m pretty scared is gonna stick. I love that gonk so much, can’t believe he’s doing all this for me. Told him he should be home finishing his album, but he just tells me to fuck off and carries on feeding me the scop that passes for food in here.
I hadn’t realised, but I’d been kinda worried that he was only so into me because he knew it couldn’t last, so there was no pressure. The day a couple of weeks ago when the doc said that, other than a couple of issues that’re easily sorted he couldn’t see any reason why I couldn’t live a full, long life put that to rest though, I mean I felt a tear slip out, but Kerry sobbed, properly full-on messy sobbing, only stopped when he saw the look on my face and the sobbing turned into hysterical laughter. He hugged me gripping on so tightly it actually hurt, but it was the best hug I’d ever had.
I really want to get home. As long as I’m lying down I’m fine, but as soon as I try to get out of bed everything crashes, like every fibre in my body has been blasted and replaced, from what I gather, that’s pretty much what has happened. I think it’s gonna be a while until I’m chasing gangoons across rooftops....
“You’re not going to be chasing anybody across anything ever from now on – except maybe me, so get used to it Kitten.”
“Ker, I’m kidding, chill. How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to know you’re not allowed to show this to anybody ‘til I’m good and dead.”
-
So I was stuck in Sweden for another month after that, wasn’t so bad. Kerry pushed me around the grounds, the sun was shining, it was good in fact. I was allowed to come back to NC as long as I had daily physio and a doctor that I could see a couple of times a week. Fortunately Kerry and Vik have sorted out their differences and become chooms, because they’re what I have, so a couple a times a week Vik comes over, checks my vitals, checks the drugs are working and stuff, and every morning Kerry goes through my physio routine with me. I’m definitely getting stronger, standing and walking short distances are manageable, it’ll be months before I’m back to full strength though, it’s frustrating but fine – I’m not dying, it’s all good.
Ker is being super-patient; I doubt he’s gone this long without at least jacking off in 70 + years. Says he’s not bothered, just want’s me better which is sweet, but also scop if the look on his beautiful face was anything to go by last night when I managed to (pretty easily) persuade him to touch himself while I watched. I told him what I was looking forward to doing to him when I’m feeling better, and what I was gonna let him do to me and watched the pretty pink flush in his cheeks spread to his neck and chest as he worked himself, looking into my eyes the whole time, if I were still dying I’d be happy for that to be my last memory.
So, things are looking up, health’s on the mend, relationship’s nova, eddies in the bank, if only Johnny were here, everything would be perfect....