Something short and stupid that just hit me...
Set right (and I mean right) after Boat Drinks.
And yep, I've hidden some easter eggs again...
"Let's get outta here before the wind flips and we get flooded by that stench. Need a ride?" Kerry asked and got up.
"Course I do," V answered and noticed how something purple washed ashore.
He picked it up.
Great. His shorts were the only thing that'd survived the explosion! Well, better than nothing.
He looked up, the sad piece of drenched cloth in his hand and watched how the Seamurai slowly sank to the bottom of the the sea and with it his favourite shirt and the rest of his stuff. He was just glad that he didn't bring his guns along.
With a sigh and a disgusted "urrg", V slipped into the wet shorts and followed Kerry through the sand and up to the street.
"You're staring at my ass, don't you," Kerry said and opened the trunk of his car.
"Yes, I do," V hummed proudly and threw a glance over Kerry's shoulder just to blink in surprise. "You got spare clothes in there?"
Kerry slipped into a fresh (and dry!) pair of tight underpants and V wondered where the hell Kerry packed all of this but surprisingly his mind wasn't with Kerry's dick for long and rather started to envy him for dry underwear.
There was at least one thing V was certain about now, though: those nudes of Kerry, leaked on the net a couple of days ago? Definitely fake. There were some teeny tiny anatomical differences. Not that V had searched for the leaks, of course not. He'd stumbled upon them while doing important netrunner stuff in the deep net.
Of course.
Kerry threw a white tank top over and got into some black pants that went with the same kind of boots he was always wearing. Then he gave V a nod to take the passenger seat.
Not a moment later he had the mixed blessing of sitting with a wet ass in wet shorts on real leather.
"Nice ride," he said.
"I hope he can drive it," Johnny commented from the back seat where he was lurking around like he owned the car.
"Had her custom made," Kerry said. "Let's see when I will get bored with her..."
And with these words he put the pedal to the metal and V got pressed into his seat for a second.
"I know you're suicidal on your missions and I can respect that but if I have to drag your ass out of a car wreck because you let Kerry drive, I am going to find a way to murder you."
V decided to ignore Johnny and rather focus on trying to appear extremely cool and relaxed in his wet pants and with his heart rate going twice as fast right now.
"So," Kerry started and actually managed to find a kind of decent tempo (but was still driving in the middle of the road), "shall I drop you off at home or do you maybe wanna hit it off at my place, drink a coffee or somethin'...?"
V raised one eyebrow and threw Kerry a glance and a smirk.
Coffee, hu?
"Would love to, believe me. But got jobs to do."
"Sure, sure," Kerry said and didn't even sound disappointed. "Home it is then?"
Crap.
Kerry didn't know where V lived. And V wasn't sure he wanted Kerry to know. That man just sunk a billion eddie yacht and drove an Aerondight that was probably twice as expensive as the common Reyfield – and those already fetched a higher price than the lifetime earnings of the average Night Citizen. Times fifty.
V couldn't even afford an apartment with kitchen. Well, not yet at least. He knew that he wanted one of those luxury penthouse apartments that he could see from his window...
"Uh... no need. Better you just drop me off somewhere in the city. Redwood market or something that's on the way so you don't need to do a detour. Got a few gigs in the area."
Kerry raised his eyebrows and glanced at V who didn't fail to notice how Kerry's gaze dropped to V's crotch for a second or two before he focused back on the road.
"Hm. You wanna do gigs. Dressed like this," Kerry said amused.
"Well you could've gotten me a set of spare clothes too! Besides... why did you even have them in your trunk? Did you plan to get naked today?" V teased.
"Maybe I had hoped to," Kerry hummed with a cheeky smirk and V just grinned like a happy idiot, "but I knew I would get wet."
"Could've warned me."
"Would've spoiled the surprise."
"I wore my favourite shirt, my lucky shirt and that's now at the bottom of the sea."
"You have something like a lucky shirt?" Kerry asked with one raised eyebrow and drove up to the highway.
"Had. But yeah," V said and looked out of the window. The sun was almost gone now and night broke over the city. "I bought it after my first job as a merc. Did the gig with my best friend, Jackie. He picked me up when I was at my lowest point, got me a job and a purpose and a place to live, too. Boy had a heart of gold. He died not so long ago."
"Fuck. Am sorry, V."
"Hm. Nothing to be sorry about." V turned his head with a crooked smile on his face. "After all it still got me lucky one last time, didn't it?"
"That was cheesy as fuck. But I let it pass because you're hot."
V couldn't help it but his smirk turned into another stupid grin again. He felt high on happiness and endorphins and didn't even care that his ass was wet and cold now. V decided to let Kerry drive and just enjoyed the view – to both sides.
After a couple of minutes he noticed something.
The silence. It wasn't awkward.
Sure, the radio was quietly playing some songs but V noticed that he was able to share silence with Kerry without feeling uncomfortable. Which was crazy, considering what they'd just done: fucked on a burning yacht. And now that they were coming down from this mutual trip, V would've guessed that sitting together in a car, riding back to town, would've maybe felt odd but... it actually felt absolutely fucking awesome.
V used the time to take a good look at Kerry. His fingers on the wheel tapped slightly to the song in the radio, so V gave it a moment to listen.
"Love that song," he said and turned up the volume.
"Fingers and The Outlaws. They played as supporting act couple o' years ago on one of my tours."
"The Second Conflict Tour?"
"Yeah. Good boys. Good to hear them being played in the radio, too. They deserve it, they got what it takes, the Three A's."
"Enlighten a poor non-musician. What are the Three A's?"
Kerry lifted a hand from the wheel to hold up three fingers and V could already hear Johnny complaining again.
"Music always gets hammered down to the Three A's. Axe, Attitude and Audience," Kerry explained with a sudden rather serious tone.
"That some famous quote from the rulebook for rockerboys?" V asked slightly amused. "Who said that?"
"Me."
Kerry left the highway again but the way he ignored the traffic was kind of worrying. "Ah I know what this must sound like to you," he then sighed. "I literally sit with my ass in a million eddie ride and wanna complain about how corpos fucked up the world, raped the land, killed the people and lied into our faces."
"I mean... there are different versions of fighting. You had an axe and the attitude. And you got yourself the audience. Comes with money, so what. Johnny would probably burn those eddies but no one's gonna care about such actions any more."
"Watch your mouth, kid," Johnny threw in only to be ignored by V again.
"You know... yesterday I was down in Watson and there was this guy, little punk I guess, who hit some chords on a rusty old guitar. Wanna know what he played? User Friendly," V said with emphasis.
Kerry took his eyes from the road for a second to give V a surprised look.
"People hear what you're saying, Ker," V continued noticed and how a warm smile showed up on Kerry's face.
"You're fucking cute, V."
"So I've been told," V grinned and crossed his hands behind his head, leaning into the damn nice and soft cushions of the car seat.
Kerry brought the car to a stop with squeezing wheels, parking half way on the pavement.
"Redwood market. Sure I shouldn't drive you home?" Kerry asked.
"No, no, this is fine. Thanks for dropping me off," V said and leaned in to give Kerry a tight hug. "Call me, alright?"
"You can bet your ass I will," Kerry smiled.
V was about to leave the car when Kerry held him back for one more moment.
"And V? Thanks. For staying. And everything. Eh... shit, you know what I mean. And hey, ehm..." Suddenly he pulled the tank top over his head and handed it over to V. "... sorry for getting your lucky shirt destroyed. Here's a new one."
And there he was. Standing at Redwood market in nothing but a white tank top that held one wonderful scent and his damp underwear. And because his underwear was damp, it was clinching nicely to his skin, leaving not much left to the fantasy.
Well.
This was Night City.
Who cared.
V looked for a metro station that could bring him back to China Town, when he noticed a small stand. An old woman was selling some junk, mostly some old tech but she also had a few boxes with used records. Something caught V's eye.
"How much for this?" he asked and held up the record of Second Conflict.
The old lady gauged him from tip to toe and V did feel a little bit uncomfortable when she was staring for a second too long at his crotch.
"Is free since you decided to brighten up my day, hot stuff," she said.
V looked at the record. He should get it signed.
Yes, he was happy. He was so damn happy that he didn't care that he was more or less naked, cold and looked like your common Watson hobo.
With the record under his arm and a song on his lips he made his way home.
"In a user-friendly world, you don't have to think..."
