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V, all things considered, hadn't expected this outcome. Couldn't believe his luck as he quickly unlocked the door to his apartment, stepping in and turning around with a bright grin. He probably looked stupid, sharp canines on display as his arm looped around his now-official output's waist, bringing her closer wordlessly. She laughed, pressing a chaste kiss to his smiling face, and he couldn't be happier, really.
Like Johnny kindly emphasized, it was damn hard to catch a girl like that. So it proved to be a real surprise when Panam crowded him against his car, face too close to his, and requested he take her with him to Night City - specifically, to his humble abode in the sprawling metropolis. How could he say no?
Hell, he was hoping that she'd ask. That they could maybe continue what was so rudely interrupted by those Raffens. V rained hell on them in his frustration, leaving no survivors in his wake.
Really are a force to be reckoned with when you're horny, V.
V hopes that the mental glare he shot Johnny was enough to silence him, but no, of course it wasn't. He's sitting on the couch, taking up all the space with his legs outstretched, dangling his cigarette as if bored out of his mind watching this amateur display of desire.
Watching V desperately kiss his output, hands sliding down to her hips, trying to memorize the sensation of the denim under his touch. The ‘Caldo jacket she wore had a unique texture that he greatly enjoyed smoothing his palms over - alas, it didn't take long for him to begin tugging at it, capable of sliding it off but wanting to make sure it was okay to do so.
Panam breaks the kiss, and V pointedly ignores the whine that leaves him when she does so. Johnny pointedly does not.
Holy shit, V, did I just hear you whine?
There's mirth in his tone, a grin in the way he speaks like he finally caught his prey lacking, even though V can't see him. The mercenary took the hand that was massaging Panam's shoulder to reach behind him, flashing his middle finger discreetly to the engram.
“Not gonna give me a tour first? I'm wounded, V.” She breaths out, almost panting from the intensity of their previous actions. Flushed and warm to the touch from a couple kisses. Not like V was any better, the red on his face dark enough to match his eyes and hair - making for an interesting palette.
Christ, it's like I'm watching a couple of teenagers on their first time.
Johnny complains again, flicking the ashes off of his cigarette onto the couch, only for it to disappear.
Shut up, I wanna savor this, V replies mentally, to Johnny's dismay.
“Sorry. Got a little too excited.” He lets go of her completely, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his head. The nomad smiles at him, cheeky yet still grateful for the little break. The reminder that she meant more to him than a quick fuck, so to speak.
She's got no idea how much more she means to him, and he's planning to show it. Somehow.
Panam moves to set down the duffel bag she'd brought along on the floor under the SCSM, with V presuming it has all her necessities to spend the night at a foreign place. She looks around, taking in the view of the city from above, eyes lingering for a few seconds too long in Johnny's direction before sweeping over the rest of the apartment.
“Nice place,” She concluded, turning to him.
“‘S not much, but it's livable.” He modestly replies, her sarcastic expression reminding him that he's speaking to a woman who's lived in a tent for most, if not all, of her life.
Well, joke's on her, he did too. So she can't use the nomad card on him.
“I'd bet it gets lonely, though. All by yourself in the big city…” Her words carry an underlying tone that he's struggling to decipher, before Johnny groans, getting up to emphasize his incredulity.
She's hittin’ on you, V! Tryna appeal to your radiating male loneliness! Go for it!
“I guess it does get lonely.” He gives her a timid smile, stepping closer to her, deciding to trust Johnny's words since the man has decades more of experience in this realm of relationships.
“Yeah?” Panam breathily asks, her hand making its way onto his broad chest, and V can tell that she's just as nervous as he is. Definitely not more, though.
“Yeah.” He replies, leaning in enough to feel her breath linger upon his lips. His beard barely brushes against her skin, possibly tickling her - but if it was, Panam made no complaint. Instead she leaned further to close the distance and kiss him again, this time holding nothing back with the confirmation that they both wanted this. Were aching for it.
When V opens his eyes mid-kiss, in an attempt to memorize the way Panam looked when she was trying to dominate his mouth, even as a bundle of nerves. Out of his peripheral vision, he noticed that Johnny was gone from his previous spot leaning against the window. Thinking that the rockerboy finally fucked off into the depths of his mind to provide him with some privacy, V closes his eyes and relaxes in Panam's hold, relishing in the quiet moan this wrings out of her. Focusing on the way his lips follow her motions. Tense muscles giving way to vulnerability, letting her squeeze his biceps and then his hips, the sensation different on either side.
Wait - those weren't Panam's hands. Hers were still around his neck, pulling him down. So that was - ?
Johnny?
V can't suppress the moan that leaves him when the engram's ‘ganic hand slides up his torso, feeling him up shamelessly. He's practically sandwiched between the two - granted, he could always back up and phase through Johnny, but that was always very uncomfortable for the both of them and if the engram was putting his heart into it, simply impossible to penetrate, as if he could will himself into being flesh and bone and not code on a chip.
Panam clearly takes the sound as encouragement, because she turns them both around and pushes V onto his low bed, both the man and his engram groaning at the same time for different reasons - V from how utterly aroused he is, and Johnny from the loss of contact.
Fuckin’ hell, she's manhandlin’ you like a toy. Grown man of six foot somethin’ and she can pin you down to the bed like a joytoy.
V whimpers as she climbs onto him, caging him in. His eyes are hazy with lust, Johnny's words doing nothing to quell the fire that Panam was stoking inside of him. Hell, it was almost like he was making it worse, rough voice tingling in his brain - right next to his ear, now, as Johnny materialised on the bed next to him.
“Panam?” He quietly calls for her when she remains still on top of him, basking in the view of him under her, cheeks flushed and eyes blown wide, hands pinned near his head. She quickly apologizes with a kiss to his cheek, the ghost of a smile making its way onto her face.
“Sorry, just… Never imagined you'd be this vocal, with how quiet you usually are.”
“Me? Quiet?” He huffs, and she snorts, hands pulling off his jacket idly as they make conversation while they still can, moving on to his shirt quickly afterwards.
“I suppose you're right, you do like the sound of your own voice.” She hums as if in thought, tracing the tattoos over his chest idly, and he makes an offended noise.
“Panam…” He warns, tone playfully dangerous, and she laughs.
“Can't help it.” V smiles at the banter, before his lips twitch in an effort to keep that smile, Johnny's hand snaking down his inner thighs.
Johnny's turned towards him, mumbling something about ‘stupid amateurs’, and V knows without a doubt that that's just his excuse, the little front that he has to put up to hide the obvious fact that there's a boner that mirrors V's own, straining against his signature leather pants. That maybe, just maybe, Johnny Silverhand wasn't as straight as he claimed to be.
Wasn't the first time, anyway. V knows intimately how much Silverhand enjoys their nights together, even if he makes excuses every time for why his hand ends up around V's dick or why he beckons V to put his mouth to use. Still, this is the first damn time that Johnny decides to do this with another person in the room, someone real and tangible.
Ouch.
No offense. V mentally clarifies, cheeks heating up at Johnny's stifled laugh.
None taken. But you're stressin’ over nothing. We've done this before. Multiple times. Don't know why you're getting your dick twisted this time.
Johnny grunts, and V mirrors the noise as Panam bites down at his neck, beginning to leave marks over the skin. His hand slides into her hair, loosening the bun slightly but not quite fully. It settles at the nape of her neck, idly rubbing the muscle.
Because Panam's right here? I'm with my output.
So?
V groans, frustrated. Intentionally dense.
You can't fuck me while my output is fucking me.
Try me.
V could almost laugh at the petulant tone Johnny's adopted in this argument if he wasn't still panicking over the fact that the engram refused to budge in his stubborn claim over his body, twisted from the words he told him when they first met. A tense moan leaves him when Panam's hands slide down to his thighs, colliding with Johnny's digital ones. Different sensations, yet the same place. Doubled, almost.
She leans down to kiss him again, mouth moving easily against his, kissing becoming like second nature to them in the short span of time that they've been engaging in it. Johnny, presumably jealous from the lack of attention, begins to trail electrifying kisses down his tattooed neck, tracing the complicated lines of ink with his tongue, almost worshipping the skin under him. And wasn't that a thought - that Johnny worshipped him, and him only.
“Mmh-” V makes a noise, hips bucking up into his output's hands in a heartbeat. She sucks in a breath, no doubt turned on by the reaction, and V realizes his hands could do better than just lay around.
With a little effort, he reaches his left hand to rub at her crotch with the heel of his palm, indulging in the full body shiver that it elicits out of her. Her kissing stalls, mouth just barely open against his, quickened exhales falling onto him. The nomad’s eyes close, and V never knew just how powerful eyeshadow can be in the realm of sex. Because wow.
Damn right it’s wow. Ain’t it something.
V groans in agreement, resisting the urge to use his Kiroshis to capture the sight before him. It takes a lot of self-control for him to hold back from flipping them around and having his way with her, or maybe even convincing her to record a tape, something he can watch over and over and never get tired of.
The mercenary turns to glare at Johnny. That was definitely his thought spilling over into his consciousness. The engram only shrugs, a smirk on his face that told V all he needs to know.
Rockerboys and their love for sextapes. V thinks, intentionally louder for Johnny to hear. Should I expect to find one with your name on it at an antique store someday?
Instead of a snarky response, V feels the phantom of a chrome hand squeeze him through his pants, and a quiet moan unintentionally leaves him. Panam’s eyes instantly open, regarding him curiously, her hips lazily grinding against his sturdy hand, unmoving even with all the motion around it. Self-control. Common for a merc, uncommon for a nomad, though she supposed that was why he’s an ex-nomad now.
Unable to take the way she stared at him any longer, V surges up to kiss her again, forcing himself to sit up and her to shift until the nomad was properly straddling his lap, her heat against his trapped arousal. Once again, Johnny manages to make a displeased noise akin to a growl, punishing V (or rather, rewarding him really) by repeating his earlier motion, stroking the mercenary through the material languidly.
V twitches against the hand, moans into his output’s mouth.
He should really tell her what’s going on.
Don’t. Doesn’t need to know.
Great.
“Fuck- V, as much as I love this, I’m-” She’s embarrassed to say this, he can tell, so he interrupts her words with a quick nod, pressing light, open-mouthed kisses to her jaw and lower, each one noisy in its haste. Panam moans when he bites down, just enough for it to leave a bright mark.
“Need this,” V grunts, hands lowering to grip her hips, pulling her into him properly. Johnny’s chrome hand lifts up to his neck, a firm grip around his windpipe, the threat not going unnoticed by the mercenary whose breath hitches at the mere prospect. He didn’t think Panam would be into this - hell, if he were to guess, he’d say she was completely vanilla - so the fact that Johnny was doing it instead…
Well. Two birds with one stone, and all. However the saying goes.
“W-Wait,” Panam stops him, and Johnny’s grip loosens, curiously watching alongside V as she slithers away and off the bed, bending over almost deliberately in order to search through her bag. V turns to the rockerboy, raising an eyebrow, yet Johnny only shrugs, prompting him to do the same. She makes frustrated noises as whatever she was looking for was clearly deeply, deeply hidden underneath a mountain of trinkets and toiletries.
“There,” She whispers, and the mercenary can’t hide his utter surprise at what she procures. His expression must match the way he feels because she lets out a nervous laugh, still showing off the dildo attached to the harness in her hands. As if letting V know what he’s getting himself into, but still ready to put it away the moment he shows discomfort with the idea.
“Um.” V starts, and Johnny whistles in his ear, not helping whatsoever.
That why she wear a harness all the time?
That’s different, that’s a safety harness.
Johnny scoffs, pressing a kiss to V’s shoulder.
Just means she knows her way ‘round one.
V sucks in a breath, nods. Whether in response to his output or to his engram, he’s not sure.
“I… know we just got together and started out, V, but-”
“Don’t even hit me with a speech. Come here.” His voice is rough with desire, and it surprises both of them enough to spur Panam into action as she climbs back on top of him, pushing him down by a hand on his chest. V goes willingly, eyes half-lidded and clearly not gazing anywhere but down. She throws the harness to the side - right onto Johnny’s lap, and his expression almost makes V inappropriately snort - before unbuttoning her jeans.
The mercenary instantly moves to help with the process, tugging at her zipper and pulling it down, finger slipping into the waistband of her underwear just to feel the warmth of her body near him. At the same time, Johnny’s hand trailed down to do the same thing to him - except his intentions weren’t quite as innocent as V’s, given by the way his fingers wrap around the ex-nomad’s cock expertly, pumping without a care. Daring V to stop him.
All the man could do was close his eyes and recalibrate with the sudden pleasure, pre-cum staining the inside of his boxers steadily with every stroke. Johnny knew exactly how to feel him up - when to go slow, when to speed up, when to twist his wrist, when to squeeze the length. Learned so much about V’s body in such a short time.
“You- uh, guessin’ you do this often, then? Had this all ready an’ all.” V inquires breathlessly, watching her slide down her jeans and panties in one go, unbuttons that damn bodysuit and peels it off without much work. He marvels at the unshaved mound that slowly reveals itself as she tugs the offending article up and away. Fuck, could she be any more perfect?
Sap.
V couldn’t even argue against that, and he could tell that irked Johnny, because the man squeezed exceptionally tight around his dick, enough to make V screw his eyes shut.
“Well…” V forces himself to open his eyes just to see her blushing. Embarrassed.
Watch, she’s gonna say some shit like “when I saw you, knew I wanted to try bendin’ a guy over.”
She will not say that, V confidently rejects the idea.
“No, I’ve never done it. But.” She huffs, distracting herself by tightening the straps around her waist. “Ah, don’t tell a soul about this, alright? Or I’ll hunt you down, V. I promise.”
“You know me. Would I ever do that?” He asks with a grin, egging her on. She sighs.
“I bought this shortly after our stay at the rundown ‘motel’. Actually, I, uh… thought about trying it then.” With you, went unsaid.
V couldn’t believe it.
Told you so.
Shut up, he repeats, a grunt leaving him. Exasperated, but also insanely horny.
“Fuck me already,” He groans out, to both of their shock. No room for backtracking, though, not when her eyes narrow and it feels like he just started something he can’t handle, like he just put fuel into a fire and miscalculated how far it’ll burn.
“Demanding.” She quietly murmurs, probably not meant for his ears. So he pretends he didn’t hear it and follows where her hands lead him, down the mattress, down until his head hits the pillows properly and he’s comfortably pinned underneath her gaze.
Gotta say, didn’t think this is how it’ll go.
Johnny and his unwanted commentary. V can’t help the annoyed furrow of his brows as he discreetly swats in his general direction.
Go ‘way. This is supposed to be intimate, and private, and I can’t focus with your little sports commentaries in my head.
Sounds to me like a you problem.
Panam’s hand replaces Johnny’s on his dick, and the new rhythm of stimulation makes his hips buck up, impatience brewing in his chest and abdomen the more she stalls. Her fake cock - hell, how can he even call this thing fake when it feels so real? - rests against his thigh, and Panam looks conflicted on how to go further. That fire from before dims out a little bit in her eyes, and it makes him instantly open his mouth to remedy that.
“Backing out so fast on me, Panam?” He eggs her on with a little grin, but the way his hands caress her sides give her the necessary reminder that she is very much allowed to back out if she wanted to, and he’d pin her down without a single complaint. Johnny’s hands mirror his own on his body, and it briefly reminds V of the Basilisk all over again.
“No, no. Just… let me think this out!” V should’ve expected this, independent lady that she is, that she wouldn’t want a single pointer. Probably didn’t even research before suggesting the experience. Typical Panam.
He sighs, sliding his hand up to cup her right cheek, encouraging her to look at him. He hesitates, sparing a quick glance in Johnny’s direction before planting his feet down on the bed, knees completely bent to give her more control over the situation - more of a view, somewhat.
Like predicted, she looks down with a hitch to her breath. Unpredictably, Johnny pulls away to get a better look as well. The whistle that leaves him makes V twitch - being ogled like a joytoy did do things to him, after all, and of course Johnny fuckin’ knew that.
The mercenary let his other hand take hold of the strap, wincing at the dry texture. Not willing to lecture her, he spits into his hand while she watches, demonstrating rather than guiding. A better approach for the nomad, clearly, because she relaxes as she watches, eyes glazing over again at the way V’s slick hand wraps around her cock and pumps - sensually enough that she could almost feel it, slow and careful. Not just to lube it up, but to entice Panam, to make her feel like this was much more than methodical. Intimate.
“Fuck, V.” Her and Johnny say in unison, and it makes the hairs on his body stand up on end, shivering with arousal. Voices mixing too harmoniously, a gruff masculine growl and a husky feminine drawl - oh, it was heaven and hell at the same time, pre-cum leaking out of his dick steadily at the chorus.
“C’mon,” V says, and he’s not sure who exactly he’s trying to encourage, but it works all the same - the tip of her silicone cock presses against his hole, a chrome hand wraps around his length yet again, a warm body and an electrifying one all at the same time, and it was so overwhelming but so right.
Panam doesn’t say a word as she slides in, careful and focused not to hurt V. His expression goes slack, eyes rolling into the back of his head - bigger than average, Panam’s pick, and it’s been a while, so he takes a bit to calibrate around the intrusion, helped along by Johnny’s persistent hand and filthy voice in his head.
Look how you take it, V. Fuck, if I knew guys took dick this pretty - would’ve fucked Ker years earlier.
You’re crazy, he drawls out in his mind, a moan leaving him and Panam simultaneously when she bottoms out. Probably the base of the strap driving against her clit, and V longs to hear more of those noises, so he pushes back against her even if it burns a little bit, relishing in the surprised whimper that leaves her.
Like the pain, don’t you? Wouldn’t be a good merc if you didn’t feel just a little hot from it. Johnny muses in his ear, his ‘ganic hand moving up his bare chest just to wrap around his throat again, constricting his breathing. Ragged, breathless moans leave him at the new addition - even if the sensation was supposedly phantom, it felt so fucking real that his eyes closed and he let out a choked whine.
Panam doesn’t wait for his permission to move. It seems she’s getting the ropes of it, given the way her hips snap back and forth without any trouble, driving into him seamlessly. Natural at everything she does, that one, and V’s glad that extends to the way she fucks him right now.
Good to know you like fake dick more than the real thing, Johnny spits out, and V grunts.
Skill matters more than sensation. V defends his point, and the engram’s hand tightens around his windpipe, so much so that he feels himself aching for air, hands scrabbling at the sheets near Johnny - unable to actually stop him in fear of Panam stopping to question him.
The nomad pushes up his knees carefully, leans down to properly tower over him, bare breasts pressing against his own hard chest, his dick trapped in between their sweaty bodies. He keens when she drives in particularly deep from the new positioning - and she can tell that she did something right, because she continues to do it over and over, precise like she always is with the fuckin’ Overwatch, impulses taking over.
“Fuck-!” He curses, Johnny’s hand loosening its grip as V throws his head back onto the pillows, allowing Panam to moan into the junction between his neck and shoulder. His hands leave the sheets in order to grip at her shoulders, barely clawing at her back - fuck, this was much more intense than that time in the Basilisk, and that had sensory feedback.
“Yeah? That feel good, V?” She mindlessly spouts, rutting in deep and grinding against the strap when he doesn’t answer immediately, drawing a long moan from the man underneath her.
Night City legend, best merc for miles, and he’s speechless from a good dickin’ down. Fuck, I’d thank Panam if I damn well could, showed me how much of a fuckin’ slut you are.
“Fuck, Johnny-!”
And then it stops.
It takes V a few seconds to realize his error. Once he does, his heart sinks, and it feels like he just dropped himself into the Voodoo Boys’ ice bath all over again.
Panam’s eyes narrow, a scowl on her face. She makes no move to pull out, but she does plant her palms onto the pillow under V’s head, caging him in. Forcing him to look straight at her.
Johnny, the fucker, is grinning. Ear to ear, like he’s never seen anything funnier.
“Is he here? Silverhand?” The nomad asks, without a single shred of warmth. Her stern face tells him he’d be better off not trying to bullshit his way out of this, or she’ll probably sic the entirety of the Aldecaldos on him.
“Uh, y-yes.” He stutters out, fear forcing his heart to beat twice as fast. To his dismay, even this turn of events didn’t quell his arousal - if anything, it made it worse, dick throbbing where it was against his toned stomach.
“What's he doing?” Panam is unmoving, eyes locked with his. He's breathing hard, he knows - unsure if it's from desire or fear or the almost-asphyxiation of earlier.
He spares a fearful glance at Johnny, and then down to where his hand rests on his abdomen, thankfully not stroking but just… there.
“V.”
“H-He’s, uh. Jerking me off.” V admits shamefully, and he can tell she's trying to figure out the logistics of the matter before ultimately giving up, scowl deepening. Looking down at where his dick is clearly not being touched, but where he claims he is.
“Hm.” She hums, uncharacteristically chipper. And that was even more scary, actually.
“Listen, I- ah, fuck!” His eyes widen as she pulls back almost all the way and forces herself back inside of him, without an ounce of warning. Clearly very used to using a cock now, because she’s set up a merciless pace that punches moans out of him with every movement, the ridges of the silicone cock dragging delightfully against his insides with every hard thrust she delivers.
“Then, I’ll just- make you forget he’s even here.” She growls out, anger clouding her tone as her hands move back to the underside of his knees, nearly folding him in half. It drives V crazy, and this time he does dig his nails into her back when Johnny resumes his earlier pace without a single fuckin’ regard for what’s unfolding in front of him.
But he can barely think about the engram when Panam clouds his mind with perfectly timed thrusts, just enough to refresh his mind and force it to focus on the source of all good right now.
Thinks she can just make you forget ‘bout me? Tough luck. Was just beginnin’ to like her, too.
V realizes he’s stuck between the world’s most possessive engram, and the world's most jealous output, and then comes the worse realization - that he brought this upon himself.
“Argh- Pan, s-slow down, fuck-!” She grunts in response, but doesn't slow, taking note of the way his cock twitches with every thrust and his muscles flex at the rough treatment.
“He stop yet?” Panam manages to string together, words breaking into moans as she reaches her limit for holding back her own noises. V knows he can't lie to her, so he instantly shakes his head.
“N-No, but- ooh, fuck, yes, like that, Panam!”
Got you moaning like she paid eddies for it.
Despite his words, Johnny's composure seems to be breaking down, too. Suddenly V finds his arm being tugged away from its position and his hand held by a chrome one, dick momentarily left unattended before his engram's ‘ganic hand takes initiative.
Panam notices, the way his hand is suspended in mid air too odd to ignore - and so she takes it away, brings it back to rest on her cheek. Forcing V to only pay attention to her, to Johnny's utter displeasure.
Your output's fuckin’ selfish. Tell her we can share, there's a lot of you to go around.
‘M not saying that, V begins, even if he feels a little scummy for not returning the favor. Still, Johnny was never told to join in anyway. She'll actually kill me.
“V,” She growls when his eyes stray towards Johnny again, torn between the two.
“Fu-ck, can't… decide…” He wheezes out, squeezing his eyes shut. The mercenary was so close he could almost taste it, and he could tell the constant grinding was getting to his output, too.
“What, he your input? You d-didn't tell me that, V. Just told me he was stuck in your head. C-Clearly he's more than that.” He can tell her heart isn't in it, but that she was doing this to annoy the engram - and, partially, satisfy his craving for the possessive words - and he feels himself fall in love with her a little more, a little too fast.
“N-Not true- argh, Joh-!” Suddenly her hand is on his mouth, effectively silencing him, and Johnny's hand is back around his throat, blocking his breathing.
“Don't even.”
Don't get us caught.
V lets his eyes roll backwards and cums harder than he ever has in his life, spurred on by Johnny moaning quietly next to him - no doubt feeling the orgasm himself, just a little more muted - and Panam groaning above him.
But the engram doesn't stop there, continuing his rhythm as Panam slows down to a deep grind, trying to reach her own peak. V pulls her hand off his mouth to inhale deeply, before pulling her down by the neck to kiss him, tongues clashing before lips, her moans swallowed by his greedy mouth.
When overstimulation begins to set in, his low moans turn to whines and keens, begging his output loudly for her satisfaction. He doesn't care how long Panam takes, how much she uses his spent body - as long as she's pleased.
Fuckin’ lovesick gonk. You're lucky she's close.
How do you-?
“H-ah, V, V, gonna-!”
And then she lets a loud moan slip and he knows it's over by the way her hips stutter and buck wildly, driving a long whimper out of him. Just as loud as in the Basilisk. He wondered how the hell she survived in a tent, having to be quiet with that set of lungs on her. Hell knows it took him a while to train himself into silence.
It takes them a minute of loud panting to come down from the prolonged high, and when V turns his head to the side, Johnny is nowhere to be seen. He sighs, out of relief or out of longing he's not too sure, but he knows he's going to savor the private moment with Panam after… whatever the hell that was.
“Sorry.” She starts, pulling out gently, wincing - there's a burning in his thighs, no doubt reddened by the constant contact. Still, he's never felt more satisfied.
“What the hell for? Sh'ld be me sayin’ sorry.” He grunts, beckoning her to drop down and get closer. She detaches the silicone cock from the harness, carelessly throwing it down onto V's shirt, huffing out a laugh at the indignant noise he lets out before laying down next to him - where Johnny had been.
Panam seems to know that, because she looks down at the sheets like he was still there. Phasing through her.
She tries to start her sentence a few times, mixtures of “I” and “you” and “he” before giving up and hiding her face on his chest. V gives her time to explain her thoughts, hand lazily rubbing her back to give an ounce of comfort.
Finally, she speaks.
“Look, if you have something going on with Johnny - just say so. Even if it's insane that your input is a dead rockerboy from the 20s.”
“He's not my input, Panam. We just…” How does he even begin to explain the closeness, the intimacy of literally sharing a body? Of being there in every waking and sleeping moment? How does he give justice to the camaraderie they've established between them when she's looking at him with such expectant, worried eyes?
“Just?”
“When you share a body, it's… Hard to blur the lines. Set boundaries. N-Not that I didn't want it, but… You know. If you truly, truly want him out-” He's interrupted by a quick shake of the head.
“You two really that close? I thought you wanted him out.” She's confused, rightfully so. V's entire plan was to remove the Relic - and by extension, remove Johnny from his consciousness, too.
“I-I do,“ V defends, but then sighs.
“But it's hard. Been in my head long enough that I enjoy his company, a lot. Hearin’ his thoughts- hell, I can feel him grumbling in the back of my head, callin’ me a gonk for being so soft about this. But it's hard not to be. Not when he was vulnerable with me, I with him. Not when I helped him tie loose ends.”
V finishes with an upset frown on his face, one that makes Panam quickly hold his jaw gently and twist his face to look at her.
With a chaste kiss, she quietens the worries about his future as quickly as they came. Pats him on the chest gently, kissing him on the cheek.
“Can tell he means a lot to you,” She says, right in his ear, and he melts at the tone. Calm and kind. Rare. “Got one request, though.”
V perks up.
“Uh-huh? And that is…?”
“Just tell me when he's around. Especially during stuff like that. Scared the hell outta me.” Panam grumbles out, closing her eyes to prepare for sleep.
V laughs, and his heart grows fond twice as much, thanks to the engram's feelings seeping into his.
This was going to be one interesting arrangement, that's for sure.