V's Vacay
I'm feeling fluffy, and so are they...
“Will ya sit down V, I’m getting dizzy with all this pacing the room.”
“Can’t sit down Ker, too excited.” V had been up before dawn making sure that Kerry – albeit begrudgingly – was up too, and other than for the five minutes he was in the shower, he’d been doing laps of the room ever since.
“Anyone would think you’d never been on vacation before,” says Kerry, half amused and half charmed at the giddy look on his husband’s face, “you have been on a vacation before, right?”
“Course, but this isn’t just a vacation, it’s a honeymoon, we’re finally getting to go on our fucking honeymoon Ker,” and with that he lifts Kerry right up from his seat on the couch and spins him around showering kisses on his cheeks.
It hadn’t been that long, just a few weeks since they got married but as ever work got in the way of taking their honeymoon straight after. Kerry had the album to finish, V was installing a new computer system in the Afterlife, this was the only opportunity they had to spend a full week away from work together for at least the next six months, so they were grabbing it with both hands.
“How long now?” V had been asking that question about every ten minutes for the last hour,
“Del is due at nine, so about eight minutes.”
“Are you sure we’ve packed everything?”
“Still yes.”
“How long’s it take to get to Thailand again?”
“Still about twelve hours.”
One of the few things Kerry missed about the villa was being able to see the road from the windows, he and V would stand looking out over North Oak, V’s arms wrapped comfortably around Kerry’s waist, until they saw Del circling the roundabout and they knew it was time to make their way to the gates. Here at the penthouse they had to wait for the jarring buzz from the intercom to prompt them into action, and right on cue there it was.
After telling the cab they’d be right down, V loads the cases into the elevator then grabs Kerry’s hand, kissing his knuckles and pulling him into the tiny space. Never one’s to pass up an opportunity like this, the rocker has the fixer pinned to the wall all the way to ground level and it’s a more dishevelled and flushed V that exits into the taxi at the other end.
-
Kerry is, of course, unphased by international flights having travelled the globe for decades, V however hasn’t flown further than the east coast and definitely never in first class, so it is with awe and excitement that he enters the cabin and takes his seat next to Kerry, well, next to is actually stretching it a little, they could just about touch fingertips if they tried however the private booth does also boast a couch and a small bar for use once they’re in the air.
Mid-flight, feeling nicely mellow and curled together on the couch, V reaches out for Kerry’s fingers and tangles them in his own, “Any regrets?”
“Nah, only that I didn’t marry you sooner,” V flushes and squeezes his husband’s hand, “how ‘bout you?” V takes a moment to ponder, not long but enough time for Kerry to lean up on his elbow and look worriedly at the other man, “V?” Kerry smooths the crease in between V’s brows with a finger and runs the back of his hand over the younger man’s cheek.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says quickly, “but I sometimes wonder…I wonder if you’d have met me before – y’know – if we’d still have got together, if we’d be here now.” V looks down, suddenly worried he’d said the wrong thing.
“Babe,” Kerry says gently, pressing his palm to his lover’s chest, “we were all different people once. You’d’ve never wanted to come near me if you’d met me at your age, toxic lifestyle, toxic friendships, ego too big for meaningful relationships, still hot as hell obviously but…” V chuckles, “thing is, we’ll never know, we’re not meant to know, we’re happy now and that’s all that matters.”
Kerry’s right of course, V looks up into those beautiful, gold-ringed eyes, “Thanks Ker, I love you.”
“Love you too Mr Eurodyne.”
-
Kerry hadn’t told V much about where they were staying, just that it was private and on the coast, and V hadn’t felt the need to ask, he was with Kerry Eurodyne, they were on their honeymoon, what the fuck else could possibly matter, but Kerry had spent months finding the right place and was seriously happy with his choice, especially when he saw his new husband’s face light up as the automated hire car pulled into the drive of the house.
“Shit Ker it’s gorgeous,” he breathes grabbing Kerry’s hand and staring at the deceptively humble-looking building.
Although made of wood and reasonably traditional-looking from outside, the house was in fact a luxurious three-bedroomed villa, mostly underground to keep cool, but with a balcony from the upstairs bedroom that overlooked the azure seas of the Gulf of Thailand. After the tour, taking in the pool, games room and state-of-the-art kitchen they find themselves drawn through the master bedroom – taking up the entire top floor – and onto the sun-drenched balcony.
“So, whaddya think?” asks Kerry, slipping a hand into V’s back pocket and pulling him closer.
V looks out over the ocean for a moment once more finding it difficult to believe where he finds himself, a klepto-punk from Heywood, in a tropical paradise with a rock-star who loves him. “Ker, honestly, there’s no way I could be any happier.”
“Yeah, but the house, what do you think of it?”
“It’s beautiful,” he says quietly, looking at his partner and clearly referring to more than just the house.
“It’s yours.” Kerry tells him with a kiss to the palm of the hand he’s holding.
The comment wakes V from his reverie, “Huh?”
“It’s yours, my wedding present to you.”
Every instinct tells V that he shouldn’t accept such a gift, that expensive presents don’t come without a motive, that something will be expected in return somewhere down the line, but then he looks into Kerry’s eyes seeing nothing but love and a pinch of excitement and realises what a gonk move it would be to argue, and that Kerry can have anything he wants from him anyway, literally anything, “Thank you Ker, I…didn’t get you anything.” he says grinning and theatrically patting his pockets.
“Sure you did,” Kerry purrs pulling him through the balcony doors by the hand, “let’s go make some memories.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
