biqween
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V considered asking her back to her place, how she could take Alex’s hand, ride with Alex on the back of V’s motorcycle, how she would insist on Alex wearing her spare helmet. How Alex’s hands would feel wrapped around V’s waist.
As if she read her fucking mind, Alex rested her hand on V’s arm, just for a moment, before gesturing behind her with her head,
“Come on back for a minute, somethin’ I want to show you.”
What if V didn't leave after her dance with Alex? On a cozy night, V and Alex bond over the past over a few drinks and find themselves in bed together, wanting an escape. Like everything in Night City, it doesn't really end well. V picks up the pieces.
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“I really thought I damned you to death with that hat,” Arthur said after a while, breathless. The confession seemed to cut through the air, like he shouted it instead of the quiet thing it really was. Charles reached across the gap between them and lifted the hat from its dusty resting place, gentle as anything, and held it, examining it. Maybe to see if it was as dangerous as Arthur implied it was, some hidden snake venom or live wire stitched into the hem.
“Give me some credit,” Charles said, looking up at Arthur with a soft smile, “I’m not dead yet.”
On a sweltering hot summer's day, Arthur and Charles run into an old enemy while (unsuccessfully) hunting. They engage in fleeing from certain doom, only to find themselves a little closer than either could have anticipated.