His last boyfriend was particularly shitty. He spent the majority of his time backstage having his MUAs match foundation to his skin colour after layers of colour corrector was used to cover up the purples and blues that blossomed across his skin, that kind of shitty.

So colour him surprised when, after a night of V staying the night to indulge his hyper-need for more than a few cuddles, he wakes up being patted down with a damp cloth under the duvet. Gently wiping him down as the merc’s other hand rubs some soothing balm into the skin of his spine, V’s expression perfectly relaxed and attentive.

“…What’re you doing?..” Kerry asks, his own expression confused and a little puzzled. Sure he’d had some rough scenes with exes and hookup in a no-tell motel in the middle of the city, but this wasn’t something he was familiar with.

Being taken care of was foreign. Being a rockstar made his inputs treat him like crap more than it made them treat him like a person more often than not… he didn’t expect aftercare from V of all people either, no offense to the man but V always seemed more ‘Act and move on like nothing happened’. Especially after the yacht sitch.

…Maybe Kerry was wrong about V. He’d spent so long fussing over Johnny being an asshole that he forgot V was the complete opposite behind closed doors.