i’ve been thinking a lot about if johnny would ever let v call him robert
thinking about if johnny has his body back, but has been struggling to fit into the 2077 night city. but at the end of the day, he knows v is there for him, always there
v is his home, he’s safe with them, he feels so comfortable with them
and of course johnny calls them by their name when it’s just them two alone, it just feels right
so one night, johnny is laying down on the couch, his head on v’s lap as they’re playing with his hair and he says “do you mind calling me robert? you know… when it’s just the two of us?” and v just nods, happy, knowing how much johnny saying their name means to them, but also that johnny felt comfortable to even ask that
johnny sheds his full rockerboy persona in front of v and bares his soul to them. they aren’t johnny, famous musician & v, top level merc — they’re robert and valerie/vincent when they’re together, two people so deep in love, knowing everything about each other
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The first time they met Marshal Commander Fox, it had been when he was overseeing their admittance to the drunk take. With hindsight, it hadn’t been the right time for wooing a recalcitrant Corrie but that sure didn’t stop them from trying.
The second time they meet the Corrie Commander, it’s at a bar. Echo and Fives are sent to get the first round of drinks when they notice the distinctive red of the Guard talking to the bartender. One of them has a passed out vod slung over his shoulder while the other, their target, is trying to soothe the employee.
It just takes a glance at Echo to confirm their plan of attack.
They wait until the bartender has dismissed the issue before they move in. Fives takes point. He usually does when it comes to seducing their targets.
“Commanders.” Fives croons and though he greets both of them, he keeps his gaze focused only on the Marshal Commander.
Echo does as his name implies and repeats the greeting as he presses up behind Fives, hooks one arm around Five’s waist, and rests his chin on Five’s shoulder. He’s a little more blatant about checking their target out. “You come here often?”
It pulls an amused noise that’s barely caught by the other trooper’s vocoder.
Their target just crosses his arms. “You’re Rex’s idiots.”
“ARC troopers Fives and Echo reporting for duty.” Fives says mildly. He’s ruthlessly scanning their target’s posture for an opening. They haven’t been shot down yet, but that doesn’t always mean something. Especially not when it comes to a superior. They tend to ignore propositions until forced to answer yes or no.
Part of Five’s job is to read the room so they don’t put their potential partners in that position. Their current target is harder to read than most but that just makes the hunt better.
“You didn’t answer the man.” The other Commander says, tone too mild to be anything other than teasing. “Tell our boys in blue how often you’re here.”
Fives nearly snaps at him to back off, they have no interest in pressuring a response, but then their commander shifts his weight and answers with a wry, “Too often and always on business.”
And, well, that is an opening.
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Hob had been very annoyed with the downfall of modern sweets. The chocolate no longer had as much taste, it was just sugar. And all the best candies had been out of production for years. He mostly missed Cadbury’s Aztec bar, but that had been gone since the 70s.
He had been planning on complaining about that to his stranger during their meetup in 1989, but well. That didn’t happen.
So, he’d just gone on with daily life, no longer going out to the store everyday to get his favorite sugar bombs. The only thing that was still good was the ice cream, and every once in a while a cake or cookie. He mostly just stuck with savory foods though.
And then, his dear stranger had returned. And not only had he returned, but he had told Hob his name.
Dream.
It was so fitting that Hob had laughed when he heard it first. And then, later that night, he had murmured it over and over again, cheeks hurting from the smile he hadn’t been able to get rid of since his friend came back.
He hadn’t had the chance to tell Dream everything he’d wanted to that day, but to his surprise and delight, Dream had showed up not a week later right outside his classroom door. He’d almost given the student who opened it a heart attack.
They had walked through the park together, talking amiably. Or, Hob had talked, and Dream had listened attentively, smiling from time to time and adding a thing or two here and there.
It was during this friendly conversation that Hob had remembered how awful modern day sweets were. They had just been passing a shop, and a pair of kids had walked out of it, one holding a chocolate bar and breaking a piece off for their friend.
Hob had looked at them for a second, then remembered.
“Oh yeah, and did you know just how bad all the sweet stuff has gotten?”
He’d gone on like this for around a minute before-
“I really miss Aztec though. That was some really good stuff. Too bad they discontinued it in the 70s, dammit.”
Dream had looked up at him then, brow furrowed and eyes twinkling. He’d left shortly afterwards, to Hob’s immense disappointment. Though he had promised to come back before next century.
For two weeks after that, everything was quiet. No sign of Dream, just regular old brilliant life. Although it would be a fair lot more brilliant with a certain gorgeous pale goth in it.
Now, Hob sat by the window in the New Inn, checking the assignments his students had handed back to him earlier that week. It was around 9pm, only just getting dark. (Thank god for summer, shortens the electricity bill)
Suddenly, a cat meowed just outside the window. Hob jumped a bit, then looked over.
It was beautiful black tom, with silky fur and eyes like the cosmos. Those eyes were very familiar…
With a grin and a sneaking suspicion, Hob got up and moved to the door to let the thing in. It meowed up at him and rubbed against his legs as it entered.
He went back to his spot and sat back down. The cat hopped up on the chair opposite him. For a while, Hob just continued checking the essays, not paying the cat any mind. If his suspicion was correct, that was the best way to prove it, he though.
And he thought correctly.
Twenty minutes in, a slight breeze flowed through the inn.
Another minute later, a quiet cough sounded across from Hob.
Hob grinned and liften his gaze to meet Dream’s.
“Dream! How lovely to see you.”
He teased his friend, amused at how his brow creased with slight annoyance. He knew Dream wouldn’t run off from some casual banter, so he could afford this little thing every now and then.
“What brings you here, my friend?”
Dream blinked silently. Then, he reached into a coat pocket and pulled something out.
“Close your eyes, Hob.”
Hob did.
“Give me your hand.”
And Hob did. He was confused, but interested and eager at the prospect of touching this ethereal creature.
He realized he had never done so before.
Dream’s skin was softer than any silk Hob had ever known, though it emanated no warmth.
Maybe Hob could rub some into it some day.
Hopefully that day would come soon.
A small, plastic package settled in his hand, and cold fingers closed his own around it.
When Hob opened his eyes, he was alone at the table again, holding a candy bar. He blinked a few times, perturbed.
Then, he looked down at the bar and his breath hitched.
It was an Aztec.
It was a damn Aztec.
A laugh escaped him, incredulous and delighted. He pocketed the sweet, determined to get Dream to try it with him later.
And also maybe kiss him senseless as thanks.
This post was inspired by @gabessquishytum’s post, which you can find here
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