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[boatdriinks]

@riipperdoc

He was a little antsy, that much was clear just by the fact that Kerry was there at all. Earlier in the day, he'd texted Vik with the invitation to pop in around the afternoon for his weekly check-up. Needless to say, plans had been changed.

Instead, he'd made the drive all the way to Little China like it was nothing.

Misty let him know that he should've been finishing up with his current patient, so letting him through shouldn't have been an issue. With that in mind, Kerry kept his disguise firmly over his features as he trotted down the steps and into the open clinic.

Part of him had been hoping to see V in Vik's chair, but nope. Hadn't seen hide nor hair of V in a while, and that apparently wasn't going to change today. Letting the thought fade from his mind, he'd instead ignore the client in general to put all his focus on Vik.

"Take yer time," Kerry would immediately assure as he stepped forward, a little too comfortable in the space by this point. It was far from the first time he'd been here by this point.

"I'll jus' stay outta your way." And out of clear sight of the patient. Absolute last thing he needed was someone recognizing him today. That meant going straight past the chair, instead going to sit on the corner of the desk where Vik's computers were.

[taleswritten]

@riipperdoc from here

Knock him out? "Vik, don't you fucking dare." Comes the low growl from the Merc, but it doesn't really have any bite to it. He's not too keen on the idea of being shot up with a sedation, especially with what it could mean.

"Think about it. You sedate me and that leaves a door wide open for Johnny to come out to play and then I really won't get rest." Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he spots Johnny scoffing but he seems rather amused. He wants to scold him, tell him that he's glad one of them finds this amusing but instead, V's eyes land back on Vik.

[youtianchef]

Everyone's the same when you strip off the mask they put on for work - rich, poor, leader, follower, whatever. You can't tell if someone's a big-shot just from looking at 'em. It's not like we were born with some special trait or anything.

Zhao Tianyou of 'Like A Dragon' Indie RP Sideblog

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[nomadanymore]

Continued from X @riipperdoc

"Why do you think you have to?" Vik sighed, straightening up a little where he sat on his wheeled stool. V could be so damn stubborn sometimes - or, more like almost always - and concerningly unbothered by the wringer he'd put his own body through. I know you're dying, V, but jesus. That was a thought best kept to himself.

Instead, Vik added, "You're one o' the best out there, kid. In more ways than one. But the best can be even better when they got support. ...More likely to come back alive, too." He swiveled away to look over the latest diagnostic scans, hiding the troubled turn of his mouth and furrow in his brow. "Have a care for the guy who has to patch you up, huh?"

--

Silence was all that would come from him, he didn't have much of a response really. Smart assing back at Vik didn't seem like a good idea even if he did find himself being more irritable than usual these days. Johnny and the whole dying thing prolly being at equal faults there. Johnny couldn't be blamed for either really though, V had stuck him in his head after all. "I'm bein' careful..." V would insist trailing off some before continuing his train of thought. "It's my mess Vik. I can't be the reason anyone else dies." He finally would admit. Anyone who helped him out there was putting their lives on the line.

[boatdriinks]

Whatever Vik was seeing, Kerry knew he was seeing right. Maybe that was why it was so damn annoying. How obvious was he if basically a total stranger could see straight through him? Guess it wouldn't be hard, if you're a doctor and you'd had similar issues yourself.

He should just be honest. He needed help. For his kids' sake. For his sake. But goddamnit, this pride of his... it was so damn heavy on his shoulders that he wasn't sure if he was strong enough to take that first step. Kerry knew that just because he was in a better headspace as of late didn't necessarily mean he was completely okay.

"Nah," Kerry assured. "...Whatever you're seein', you're prob'ly seein' right. Y'don't get to be my age, 'r be in the entertainment industry as long as I have without bein' pretty fucked up in the head. So, nah," He reaffirmed. "No harm done." The rest of his glass was drained, for now just left empty in his hand.

"Didn't mean t'lose my cool. My bad, doc. I've just--" A breath of laughter escaped him. Kerry's eyes were focused on his empty glass. He had to look away if he wanted to get the words out of his mouth. "--been havin' to listen to people worryin' about me 'n' all'a this shit since I was fifteen years old." So many people kept forgetting, how Johnny and he were practically babies when they started out.

"Guess I'm still not great at not bein' defensive as all hell."

His back straightened a bit more, and he almost paused in setting down his own glass. Vik wouldn't need even half the instincts of V's detective friend to notice how stilted and affected Kerry's casual tone was. Ah shit, of course the guy was used to people grilling him over half-fake rumor mill garbage. If Vik tried to assure that his support and concern were sincere, would he be believed? Only one way to find out.

"Nothin' worth taking seriously." He kept his eyes on Kerry's, one thumb idly tracing his whiskey glass' rim. Offering anything short of the frank truth would just itch at him like an unwashed shirt. "I'm not a screamsheet kinda guy, and I only bother with the fun word-o'-mouth gossip - not the fuckers out there playin' armchair doctor."

A short pause, and a deeper breath as Vik kept a tight rein on his focus and centered his thoughts. "...Look. I'm sorry if I was outta line. I was just seein' a couple signs that I got firsthand experience with. Wanted to offer the kinda support I pushed away from back then. But if I was seein' wrong, I hope there's no harm done."

[boatdriinks]

@riipperdoc

He hadn't been to a ripper in a while. Yeah, yeah. To his own detriment, he knew. With everything feeling like it was practically disintegrating around him, however, his health had definitely taken a backseat to everything else.

There enters V, who would one day end up mentioning his personal ripper. Dr. Vik Vektor. A pretty chill dude with a clinic all the way in Little China. Wasn't his usual scene anymore, but... well, it sure as fuck was better than pouring eddies into the pocket of some corp sellout. So, Kerry had taken the number offered to him and decided he'd think on it.

That would all culminate into calling the clinic using a voice changer and a private number one day. He hadn't gotten back to having his staff around him all the time anymore, so he just took the act upon himself. Placing the phone on speaker, Kerry would wait patiently, hoping for an answer, despite the lack visible number.

[youtianchef]

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[boatdriinks]

Kerry listened, but didn't have a ton to say about it. It made sense, though. Moments like those sometimes had a good impact on you, and he supposed he should be thankful that Vik had had that moment in the first place, else they likely wouldn't be in this position.

"Just the way things go t'get us t'where we are now. Kinda gotta thank the guy myself, in that regard, then, I guess," Kerry joked lightly. Without Vik there may've been no V. Without V... by this point there definitely would've been no Kerry. He could sit there and pretend that the only consequence would be a lack of their current relationship, but that would've been one hell of a lie.

"Shit sounds wild, though. Can't blame him for retiring."

He certainly didn't miss the parts that had just been getting started in his day, and now dominated matches, especially televised ones. Filming commercial takes wasn't how Vik liked to prep for a bout, and at the time at least he hadn't been the only one balking. Now, you had to if you wanted to get anywhere beyond streetside bouts. No, it was the sportsmanship, the athleticism, pitting strategies against each other, admiring the guy who knocked you on your ass fair and square. Not all his peers had seen it that way, but Vik liked to think he'd at least opened, if not changed, a few minds in his time.

"Kinda in the middle." Vik settled both hands on the wheel once more. "Finals of the Watson Grand Prix, Nik Vasilios. It'd only been a few days since he got subdermals in his arms - not too different from what I have now, but more for prevention than treatment. And, not installed as well as mine." A quiet, brief sigh. "I saw the bruises, but didn't know what caused 'em 'til after. A few swings into the first round, he found a window in my block, went for an uppercut... half the damn radial brace sheared off and out, got me in the chin. Gave him some first aid 'til the medics could take him away. He agreed to delaying the match and thanked me, so there's that. ...Think he hung up his gloves after he won."

[boatdriinks]

Kerry could understand that. It was like its own addiction. He could've left that life at so many points. After being dropped by Universal Music, after his daughter's death, after time in jail, and now after all of this time. He really could've just walked away from it all if he'd really wanted to. But the life always called him back. Kerry had gotten addicted to that rush, the sound of people cheering for him. Whichever part Vik missed, he couldn't fault him for.

"Yeah?" Kerry pulled out of his own thoughts to listen to Vik, eyeing the bit of the scar beneath his thumb. "Good guy? Or a piece a'shit you just happen t'kinda owe somethin' to?" Or maybe something in the middle. He had a lot of those, so it wasn't difficult to empathize.

Vik couldn't help a longer stare, more out of surprise than appreciation this time, before dragging his attention to the road. Fifteen? Yeesh... what a number that must've done on Kerry's self-regard at the time. That the man had come out of it any appreciable measure of whole was testament to his resilience, though Vik still wished the guy hadn't had to endure it at all.

He shook his head upon hearing how pissy and entitled both management-levels and fans could be. Vik hadn't been without his own small share of obsessed fans or coaches who insisted they knew best, but Kerry must've faced a whole other level of bullshit as a performer. Image was a good chunk of branding, or sellability or whatever the mealymouthed corpo-speak was for it these days.

"Can't lie, I do miss some of it," Vik replied as they pulled up at another red light. "But those parts, I can pretty much get just by training, watchin' live street matches, or payin' a visit to Fred. Think I've still done some good for boxing here after I left - patching up a few contenders, makin' sure their chrome sits right, that kinda thing." A quiet short hum of a laugh, and one hand lifted from the wheel to swipe a thumb over the scar on his chin. "Mostly got one guy to thank for givin' me the idea."

[boatdriinks]

People loved to stick their noses where they didn't belong no matter what area of entertainment you were in, huh? It took effort for him not to roll his eyes at the oh-so-familiar experience. Best that Vik didn't have to deal with that shit. Dealing with it for nearly 75 years had done more than enough damage to his thought process, no matter how much he tried to pretend like he'd always been headstrong in both his opinion and image.

Kerry nodded his head affirmatively. While he could keep the eye roll away, the slightly dejected look that crossed wasn't as easily pushed away. Not without already being visible, anyway.

"Yep. Don't blame ya. Shit like that is insanely exhausting. Was when I was 15 and insecure, and still is while I'm nearly 90 'n' up my own ass constantly." It was probably a miracle that he wasn't more image conscious than he already was.

"Suits and fans alike really threw a fuckin' fit over the color of my eyes. The color of my hair." They hadn't cared that he'd been going through a crisis when he shaved his head in 2023. No, all they'd cared about was that his hair was gone and apparently that was a PR disaster. Right.

"Really did make the right move in gettin' out. You're better off."

"Yeah, true enough." No reason to downplay what either of them had done or endured, when they both knew the reality of it. You'd have to go to a maternity ward or an elementary school to find someone in Night City who hadn't fucked up to some degree.

Even so, the thought didn't prevent another smirk from slanting his mouth at Kerry's complimentary assurance. Vik managed another glance over. "Anytime and always." He shared that unspoken hope. Kerry's body had handled all his current chrome pretty well, but Vik knew better than most how each addition threatened to tip the scales out of favor.

The short stretch of silence passed without interruption - in part because Vik was preoccupied with changing lanes. He'd heard from others before that how 'often' he used his turn signal made him seem even older than he was. Way he saw it, rules of the road were rules for a reason. That aside, he could feel Kerry's stare on him, wandering over him, almost like a touch. Maybe he was just too over-aware, but he liked the feeling too much to complain.

A quiet chuckle slipped out. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment. Can't really see it myself, either. One big reason I stepped outta the ring; too many people sayin' I should or shouldn't, how much to get and what kind, what fans would think, how it'd affect sponsors..." Vik glanced over again. "Probably a familiar tune, huh?"

[boatdriinks]

"Guess we both fucked ourselves up by going a little too hard." But they were lucky to have those things to help maintain. Vik for his hand, and Kerry for... way too much to list without it almost becoming comical. Vik had already seen it all from the very beginning. He was sure Vik could already make a few guesses as to how he got to that point, even without Kerry having been honest and telling him about a majority of it.

"Least I got a damn good ripper to keep me 'n' all my broken bits from fallin' apart." All he could hope was that things stayed boring. No new bits needed to keep the peace in his body.

Looking Vik over briefly, he would honestly try to picture him with more chrome but... really, he couldn't see it. He really didn't need it. Medically necessary bits, sure, but some of the shit that he had going on for the fashion of it? Nah.

"Didn't know about that, though. Huh... Makes sense. But yeah, you with chrome? ...Doesn't really fit in my head. Can't even picture it, really. Some people just ain't meant for it." Some would argue that he hadn't been meant for it. He'd had a fair share of loud people in his life, bitching about some of the modifications he'd gotten. God, the outcries when he'd made his kiroshis blue instead of brown. For fuck sakes.

"Good." It was said with a similarly-humored smirk, but held an undercurrent of sincerity. Even setting aside age, Vik wouldn't want to see Kerry get mixed up in all the demands for cash and chrome. No doubt the guy had already dealt with enough of that in the music industry, just in somewhat different ways.

Vik hummed his understanding and sympathies when Kerry mentioned that indeed, a number of musicians these days had all kinds of things installed to amplify their vocal abilities. He knew Kerry's own implants were different, even before it was mentioned, though it was good to have that confirmed rather than just an educated guess from layouts and specs.

"Sometimes it's the best you can do, or should do," Vik agreed. When they were on a straightaway, he lifted his left hand from the steering wheel for a cascading curl of fingers. "Only bit o' chrome I've ever had - subdermal bracing. I was good with my left hook, so good it kinda got to be a crutch. Had some tremor problems, and a few too many fractures, by the time I hung up my gloves. So this and a low-dose relaxant keep things steady, makes sure it doesn't get any worse. Maintains what I got."

[boatdriinks]

Kerry's expression was about as even as it could be while listening to something like this. The only thing that had really changed while taking it all in was the way his brows raised. A mix of confusion, concern, surprise, and a hint of amusement. Definitely didn't sound much like sport anymore, that much he could agree on.

"Yeah, y'know... I like gettin' into fight as much as the next rockerboy, but I don't think I'll be switchin' careers to pro boxer any time soon." Even if the remark was made in jest, the mere idea that he might be into getting smacked around at his age was laughable at best.

"One really well placed punch at my age would send me straight t'my not-so-early grave. An' especially hearing all that? ...Yeah, fuck that, babe. Think I'll stick with yoga," he'd remark, a humored tone beneath the surface of his words at least.

"Gotta agree on the tech demo shit. Reminds me of the assholes 'round my side of things, usin' implants t'make them sound better. Sure, y'could lump me in with that-- lotta people do at this point --but this thing," Kerry lightly tapped at the chrome that covered a good portion of his neck, "is t'maintain what I got, and prevent my dumbass from doing even more serious damage to my throat 'n' vocal cords." Since, y'know, he did want to be able to keep on singing for as long as he possibly could.

Half-smile broadening with a flash of teeth, Vik shook his head a little. Honestly, he was sure Kerry would do just fine talking about anything; besides, even when the other did talk about himself, Vik couldn't begrudge learning more about a man who'd caught his eye the way Kerry had.

Though his eyebrows lifted a little at the mention of yoga, he had to drag his gaze back to the road when the light changed. "Well, you got one up on me there. Think I'd get myself stuck if I tried half o' those positions, you'd have to help me out." Vik was half-joking, but only half. Boxing needed its fair share of flexibility, but no one was really going to be pulling their knees up to their head in the middle of a match. He, too, let the possible innuendo pass by unremarked.

"And you're always welcome to try boxing, if it ever grabs your interest. Just don't bother goin' pro. Sure, I did a couple sponsorships back in the day, but that was at my peak. Now? You gotta suck up to half a dozen corpos just to get outta the street rings." His scoff was light; he blamed those corpos more than the boxers, really. They just had to get their moneygrubbing fingers into all of it. "Nevermind all the eddies to keep up with implants. Matches feel more like watchin' a damn tech demo than a sport. Technique and instinct are second place to havin' the shiniest toy." A heavier sigh. "And it's fucked 'cause if you don't, even one hit from the other guy could land you in the hospital. Happened last week to that new up-n-comer, Marquez; didn't have all his implants in yet, took a cross and an uppercut, then had to forfeit. Guy got a cracked jaw, a ruptured spleen, and tears all over his gastro ligaments, just 'cause Lansing had the heavy-duty upgrades."

Another glance to Kerry in realization, then a more sheepish, apologetic chuckle. "...Sorry; last part's probably not the best topic right after dinner, huh?"

[boatdriinks]

"Oh, yeah, the boxing thing. Been wonderin' a little about that. Never was the greatest at talkin' bout anything but myself," he jested, grinning playfully over toward Vik.

"I can't say I know jack shit about any of that, but I could listen t'you info dump. Just don't quiz me afterwards, 'cause I'll be damn hopeless," Kerry offered honestly. He could sure as hell listen to a person go on and on about shit. He'd been best friends with Johnny Silverhand since he was in the 4th grade, and even back then he didn't know how to shut the fuck up sometimes. Remembering it all, though? Oh, no. He couldn't even remember the words to his own songs sometimes.

"Can't say I've ever tried any sorta boxing, though. I've done weight lifting 'n' all that before, but most'a that shit is collecting dust around the house. Mostly just do yoga t'keep myself flexible now."

That really must've been the sign of him getting old, if he wasn't making eyes at Vik the instant he said that.

Vik listened intently, while keeping his eyes on the road. He stole glances as often as he dared, just because he liked watching Kerry talk as much as the sound itself. He hadn't heard of every place the other mentioned, but he did remember hearing the most in passing about Grand Illusion.

His short laugh this time was more of a snicker. "Yeah, I can't speak to that either. Her style's never really been my bag - if that wasn't clear enough by the kinda place we just came out of." Besides, Vik wasn't too sure how well a guy his age would fit in around the city's surviving clubs.

Stopped at a red light, he could look long enough to meet Kerry's eyes, his smirk lingering. "If I don't sound old to you yet, just get me started on modern boxing standards." With any luck, if or when he got that chance, he hoped Kerry at least wouldn't eyeroll or change the subject.

[boatdriinks]

"Ah, yeah. Shit's depressing to think about, honestly. The Rainbow Cadenza's gone, The Atlantis as moved so many fuckin' times I can barely keep up with it anymore... Honestly, the fact that Grand Illusion is still up 'n' running is wild t'me. Should've kept up with that, 'n' maybe I could've taken ya there." But, nah. Owning businesses and shit like that wasn't really his scene anymore.

"Dunno how worth it it is nowadays if fuckin' Lizzy Wizzy is performing there." Scoffing softly, he shook his head. It didn't matter too much, he guessed. He'd just need to figure out a place he actually liked to be in this city. At this point, that number of places was definitely dwindled down to very few.

Maybe Dark Matter would be the way to go again.

But, ah well, that was an issue for him to deal with later.

"...We sound old, whining about this sorta shit. Or I do, at least." At least Vik didn't make him feel absolutely ancient like V did.

"Guess we'll just have to," Vik agreed with a sidelong glance and a half-smile. Despite the almost giddy restless energy buzzing beneath his skin, he wanted to spend as much of the evening with Kerry as the latter would allow.

Though he didn't glance over again, in the midst of making a turn, his eyebrows did lift at the suggestion of returning the favor. "I look forward to it. Anywhere without a corpo-soundin' dress code, I'm game." Vik had a feeling that stipulation wouldn't be a problem, though; Kerry didn't seem the type to enjoy such places either.

This time, he could spare a look as a sympathizing chuckle escaped. "Everything else comes and goes, but coffee lasts forever. Story of every neighborhood I've seen here, least in my time. Think part of the club I used to work at got turned into a cafe too." Last he'd checked, anyway; not too much brought him to Kabuki these days. Whatever it was now, he hoped his former colleagues were doing alright for themselves, as much as one could in a city like this.

[boatdriinks]

"Yeah, it was nice. Nice atmosphere. Good food. Got a little too distracted to really appreciate it all, though. Guess we'll... just have t'come back," Kerry remarked with a small grin.

Settled in the car, Kerry took his shades off at least. Those fake blue eyes glanced Vik's way a good couple of times just within the first minutes of them pulling away. He was up for just about anything. Not like he didn't spend most of his nights awake anyway, so he was in no real rush to head back to an empty home.

Sticking around Vik for as long as he'd be willing to have him? Yeah, that sounded a whole lot more appealing.

"I'll return the favor one day, too. Y'know, find somewhere where I think you'd like t'go." He'd think of some place.

Sure, there were tons of fancy joints around town, but Kerry wasn't too keen on many of 'em. Stuffy ass establishments with no personality around them? Fuck all'a that. He'd find something suitable for the both of them.

"Shame, really. Most'a the good shit that was around NC is gone. At least, the stuff I remember t'be great and worth going to." A lot of them were clubs, sure. Didn't really seem like Vik's scene, but maybe he'd have at least tried one of them for him.

"All that shit is gone, but the coffee place I would always go to is still there 'n' kickin'. Wild how shit goes like that."

Even if he wouldn't have objected if Kerry wanted to go home, Vik's fond smile widened a little when the other decided on prolonging the evening. To be honest, he didn't even have a path in mind; he'd just feel it out as they went, though hopefully without venturing too far. There were parts of the city he still wasn't as familiar with.

Vik walked just a bit closer beside Kerry on their way out, to try and casually hide the older man from any passing glances, even with the disguise.

Only when they reached his car did he also let go of Kerry's hand with similar reluctance, so he could fish out the key fob to unlock the doors. Getting back into the driver's seat, Vik set his own leftovers box into a shallow dip in the console behind the cupholders, then buckled up as well.

"I'm really glad you liked that place," Vik mentioned after pulling away from the curb to set off down the street. There was some traffic at this hour, but fortunately not enough to be a problem, at least by Night City standards. "Haven't had much chance to take anyone there, 'specially not anyone I'd love to kiss til closing time."

[boatdriinks]

"Definitely wouldn't mind a little drive. Gonna take a good bit to get back up to North Oak anyway," Kerry mused, not even hesitating to Vik's hand after it was offered out to him. His free hand held onto his own takeout box, while he'd interlace his fingers with Vik's like he had at the very beginning of their date.

As they left, Kerry tried to mostly keep his head down to avoid anyone catching too much of a look at him. His head only raised again when they made it outside, feeling a bit of relief when it seemed like they were in the clear. He didn't see anyone gathered outside, or hiding away.

Everything, for now, was perfectly fine. Thank fucking christ...

He was intending on it staying that way, so he'd let go of Vik's hand begrudgingly so he'd be able to get into the passenger's seat of Vik's car once it was unlocked. His leftovers were sat in his lap once he was settled with his seatbelt on.

He already missed the subtle warm weight of Kerry's hand on his thigh, not to mention his lips still seemed to tingle in the absence of the other's mouth. Vik closed the takeout box, similarly guessing that he'd probably finish off the rest as a late meal. It wasn't like he could go to sleep anytime soon, when his head would be buzzing with thoughts of Kerry.

The return of the other's hat and shades were a small reminder of the reality in their new situation, but it didn't - and wouldn't, he was sure - shake his resolve.

"Guess we are." Once everything was paid for, Vik stood from the booth, box in one hand while he offered the other to Kerry. To be frank, he just wanted another excuse to hold the older man's hand again. "You wanna go straight home, or ride around a little first?"