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pikapeppa · 2 years

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David Martinez/Lucy: Inevitable

I watched Cyberpunk: Edgerunners and bawled like a baby at the end, and as many of you may know, smut is how I process Emotions™. So here we are. 🥺

Read here on AO3 instead; 9672 words, Rated E.

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Never trust a soul in Night City.

It’s something that every edgerunner knows — every edgerunner who survives, that is. It was the first thing Kiwi taught her when she got here, and it had never been difficult for her to put into practice; she didn’t trust anyone, anyway. She hadn’t trusted anyone in years, not since she’d escaped from that fucking place.

But Lucy wasn’t thinking about Arasaka right now. She was thinking about this, about him. His hands were on her thighs, his fingers gripping her just enough that she could feel how eager he was — just enough that she could feel his hands trembling as his tongue ghosted over her lips.

She leaned away from him, meaning to break the kiss and say something to him, but David followed her, his lips chasing hers, his hands tightening on her thighs as though he was afraid she would slip out of his grasp.

Come back, he seemed to say, even though he’d said no words at all. And she was on top of him now, his neck was warm beneath her palms, his mouth so hot, his hand at the small of her back, and he was hungry — so hungry, so eager, and she’d seen this kind of hunger so many times before, but this was the first time she’d felt it herself.

She came up for air, cradled his face in her palms. “David,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” he panted.

His eyes were wide. Plain brown eyes, nothing special, nothing chromed — but it was good like this. He was good like this. But Lucy had been watching him training up over the past couple of months. He was getting more comfortable with the crew, getting Syn-Lungs and getting stronger for it and getting just a little cocky, and she knew he wasn’t going to stay like this.

Inevitable. He wouldn’t stay like this and she knew it, but here she was anyway.

“You wanna go inside?” she said.

His eyes got bigger still, and he swallowed hard. “Yeah,” he said. “Y-yeah, okay.”

She rose, and he rose with her, and a minute later, they were in her apartment. He looked uncertain now, his hands deep in his pockets as he hovered near the couch, and she was amused by how cute he was. He would pout if she said it, so she would spare him that, but still: he was cute.

She took off her jacket and tossed it on the couch. “Come on, then,” she said, and she started to strip.

“Uh… okay.” He was quiet but for the soft shuffle of fabric, and Lucy was quiet too as she peeled off her clothes. When she was naked, she padded over to the coffee table and helped herself to a smoke.

David was still getting undressed. His jacket and shirt were on the sofa and he was kicking off his shoes, but Lucy didn’t look at him as she lit the cigarette. She took a deep pull from the cigarette, and she watched through the window as the rocket made its way up toward the sky.

She held the smoke in her mouth for a moment, then slowly let it out in a series of rings. Then David spoke quietly behind her. “Lucy?”

She looked at him. He was naked now, too, though he looked like he wished he still had pockets to hide his hands in. But there was no hiding the fact that aside from the Sandevistan and the Syn-Lungs, he was completely organic.

She hadn’t seen someone so organic in longer than she could remember. He wasn’t as lanky as when they’d first met, but he wasn’t really jacked yet, either. She could see veins running down his forearms and along the backs of his hands: real, unadulterated veins. There was the start of the six-pack he was working on — bona fide little ridges of muscle with no seams or hinges — and when he lifted his hand to scratch the back of his head, she watched with interest as a vein popped on his bicep.

“I’m gonna get chromed up soon as I can,” he said, like he was trying to reassure her. “Muscle reinforcers, Maine told me about ‘em — next time we make bank, I…”

She smiled faintly, then padded over to him and took his hand. “Sit down,” she said, and she pulled him over to the couch.

He sat, and she settled beside him and curled her legs up on the couch. “I don’t care if you get more chrome,” she said, and she took another drag of her cigarette.

“You don’t?” he said.

She shook her head and blew out the smoke, then put out the cigarette, and he rested his elbows on his knees. “Oh. I thought—”

She pushed his shoulders, and he sat back. “What’s up?” he said.

She straddled his lap in reply.

His eyes went huge as they dropped, predictably, to her breasts. “Uh, I — I don’t have a condom.”

“You don’t need one,” she said.

“But Maine said…”

She took his hands and placed them on her thighs, and she watched in amusement as his Adam’s apple jumped in his throat. “It’s okay,” she said. “You can touch.”

He wet his lips — nervous, she could tell. His fingers closed on her thighs, more gently than when they were kissing on the roof, and Lucy watched as his hands slid slowly up her thighs. His hands were warm, his fingers soft and his palms just slightly callused from the workouts he’d been doing every day, and they felt… she felt them.

She felt the touch of his hands — his warm, unchromed hands. There was so much sensation from his hands, the softness and firmness of his fingers and the heat of his skin… shit, even just being touched? Being touched at all was so strange to her now. She hadn’t had sex since she’d come to Night City, and never with someone she liked or even knew.

David’s thumbs glided over her thighs, and Lucy drew a slow breath. She was feeling all of this in a way she never had before, like a low-level buzz in the depths of her belly that almost felt like she’d shot up a tiny hit of stim, and she was slowly realizing what this unfamiliar feeling was. She’d never felt this before, but she knew what it was, and she was surprised at how… how good it felt. Yet even as she marveled at its goodness, she knew she wasn’t going to feel more than a hint of it.

It was for the best, though. She’d had good reasons for upgrading with a neuromodulating dampener, and it was an upgrade she didn’t regret, even if the dampening of pain meant a dampening of pleasure, too.

So she focused on him instead, watching the emotion flicker across his face as his nerves crumbled under a more carnal want. His hands were on her hips now, sliding higher to encircle her waist, his thumbs tracing higher to brush over the metal seams beneath her breasts, and the buzzy-stim feeling flickered between her legs. Only a flicker, thanks to the neuromod, but it was more than she’d ever felt before — way more than she’d ever felt when she was hiding herself and her netrunner abilities behind faceless johns as she moved from place to place for years.

David hesitated, his hands just below her breasts, and she smiled. “Something wrong?”

“No,” he said. “Just… can I really just—”

She took his hand and placed it on her breast. “Rookie,” she teased.

A half-smile flashed across his face. “Fuck off.”

“If you want,” she said, and she started to get off of his lap.

“No, wait,” he blurted, and he grabbed her hips and pulled her back down.

She laughed softly and rested her palms on his chest. “I said you can touch me. So go ahead and touch.”

“What if I… I dunno, if I do it wrong?” he said.

“You’ll know,” she said, and she raised her wrist with the monowire port.

He scoffed. “What, you gonna flatline me if I fuck this up?”

“Mhm. Better be careful.”

He grinned, and she felt that grin in her chest, like another hit of stim. It wasn’t really a welcome feeling — in fact, she’d been trying to avoid this for weeks, trying to avoid him and this feeling. But here she was, captured in his orbit like the moon around the earth, gravitating towards him despite her efforts to stay away.

Inevitable, she thought. She smoothed her palms down his chest, marvelling at the velvet of his skin under her hands as she did.

Then she trailed her fingertips over the head of his cock.

His grin fell away, replaced by desire, and Lucy watched him as she wrapped her fingers around his cock. She squeezed him, just one squeeze, and he jerked and gasped — ooh, he was sensitive.

She stroked him, and he shuddered and gasped again. He was so damned sensitive, his reactions visceral in a way she’d never cared about before, and it was fascinating to watch.

She rose up on her knees, arching her spine to lift her breasts toward his face, and his lips fell open on a groan. “Lucy…”

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “Go ahead.”

He palmed her breast — no hesitation this time, good boy — and then her nipple was in his mouth, and that buzzing feeling was there between her legs, humming warmly in its muted way. She stroked him again, and he moaned around her nipple, and she positioned herself over his cock.

He suddenly squeezed her waist. “Wait,” he gasped. “You sure about this? M-Maine said to use a condom—”

Fucking Maine, she thought in amusement. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I can’t get pregnant.”

“Oh,” he said, and his eyes dropped to the metal seam spanning the space between her navel and her groin. “Okay, but — what about, um, diseases…?”

Lucy couldn’t help herself: she laughed. He really was too fucking cute. Then he pouted, which just made her laugh all the more, because it made him even cuter.

“I said not to worry,” she said warmly. “Besides, if you catch something, you can get the meds. You have eddies to spare now.”

“Not that many,” he muttered. “Besides, I’m trying to save ‘em. Rather not spend them on fuckin’ STI meds.”

“Then you’d better stop partying with…” She trailed off. She was about to tease him about partying at Lizzie’s Bar with Pilar, but she’d forgotten for a split second that Pilar was dead.

Blood, pulp, the metallic drum of piss on rusting steel. For a second, they were both silent. Then David squeezed her arm. “Forget that. Let’s do this.”

His face was set and determined. It was the same look he wore when they went out on jobs, that fierce and confident look he wore right before he activated the Sandevistan, and she felt another warm little squeeze in her chest, like a pinch of fondness. She knew what was going to happen when they did this, and she knew he was going to be disappointed with himself, but it was inevitable, so they might as well get it done.

Inevitable. she thought. She stroked him again, and he gasped and gripped her arm, and she sank onto his cock.

David shuddered. And then his fingers were on her thighs, tightening as she rose and fell on his lap, and Lucy watched his face as she took him deep. She studied his features as they tightened and twisted with pleasure, listening as his mouth fell open on a gasp, then on a groan as his fingers dug into her thighs, and less than a minute later, he came.

She watched him as he shuddered and groaned beneath her, watching as the pleasure took hold of his sweet and handsome face, and she felt… she felt. She felt this, she felt something as David moaned and gripped her hips, and she — damn it, she hadn’t anticipated this. She was torn between two uncomfortable places: on one hand, there was the usual impassivity she felt during sex, and on the other hand, there was the reluctant but undeniable warmth that she’d come to associate with him — only with him… Fuck, she felt something, something big, and she hadn’t meant for this to happen.

When his climax was done, she lifted herself off of his lap and stood up, eager to leave the unexpected discomfort behind. She picked up her abandoned cigarette and lit it, then took a deep drag and held the smoke in her mouth. Her pulse was high in her chest, faster than she’d expected it to be for how quick the sex had been, and she gazed vacantly out of the window as she willed her heart to slow.

He spoke, then, in a tentative voice. “Did you, uh… was it good?” he asked.

She glanced at him in surprise. Nobody had ever asked her that before. Nobody had ever cared enough to ask. Not that she’d expected them to, given that her pleasure wasn’t what they were paying for, but still.

Her silence seemed to discourage him; his shoulders hunched a little. “It wasn’t. ‘Course it wasn’t, it was over too fast, yeah? Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted. “It was your first time. It’s always fast the first time.”

His shoulders loosened. “Really?”

She nodded and brought the cigarette to her lips. “You’ll have more control over it the more you do it.”

“The more I…?” He straightened. “You mean, you wanna go again?”

Cute, she thought, and she smiled faintly. “Sure, we can go again,” she agreed. “When you’re ready.”

He nodded, then sighed and sat back on the couch, and she gazed out of the window as she smoked her cigarette. They were both quiet, Lucy smoking and David sitting there and jiggling his foot, and she was considering lighting a second smoke when he spoke.

“Do you want to go again?” he said.

She looked at him to find him frowning. “Yeah, sure,” she said, and she dropped the butt of her cigarette in the dish on the coffee table.

“Don’t say you want to do it if you don’t,” he said. “I don’t wanna be your pity fuck.”

She frowned. “That’s not — it’s not that.”

“Then why’re you doing this if you don’t want to?”

Her heart started to pick up speed again. David and his questions, she thought; he’d done this before, when Maine had forced her to take him out for a run. He’d asked her so many questions that night, prodding her in ways that nobody else had ever done and getting so… so fucking personal. David kept trying to get personal with her, asking her things about herself, wanting to know what she liked and didn’t like, how she thought and how she felt about things, and he made her uncomfortable.

No, that wasn’t fair; her discomfort wasn’t his fault. He was just a normal street kid who’d grown up with a mother who loved him: just a sweet-natured kid who hadn’t needed to know that you couldn’t trust another fucking soul in Night City. But Lucy wasn’t like him. She was a refugee, another faceless cyberpunk netrunner trying to hide in this fucking cage of a city, and she couldn’t just tell him all the things he wanted to know. She couldn’t just answer his questions and tell him her thoughts and the ways that she felt; it was too dangerous. Every piece of her life was a shard that could be used against her, used to trace her back to Arasaka and to that fucking place — no, it was too fucking dangerous.

She gripped the hair at the base of her skull, and David heaved a sigh and rested his elbows on his knees. “Listen, Lucy, you don’t have to — I didn’t even… I wasn’t even planning for this to happen, you know? I just… wanted to talk, so if you want me to get out—”

“No,” she said, surprising herself.

He raised his eyebrows, and she forced herself to go on. “I… don’t want you to go. And I wanted this.”

He relaxed a little. “I thought you did. On the roof, I mean, when you… But you don’t seem like you... I mean, you didn’t, like… finish, right?”

“No.”

“Why not?” he said. “I mean, I know I was fast, but… is there something you want me to do? ‘Cause I’ll do it.”

She smiled despite herself. “Agreeing to do something before you even know what it is? That’s a gonk move.”

“So there is something you want, then?” he pressed. “Tell me what it is.”

She studied him with that discomfiting warmth in her chest. He was so… ‘cute’ wasn’t the right word anymore, not when he was determined like this. He was… compelling, somehow: charismatic in a way that made him somehow seem larger and more imposing than he was.

He was gazing steadily at her, his plain brown eyes locked onto hers, and she held her breath as she returned his gaze. She wanted to answer him, to answer at least one of the dozens of questions he had tried to ask her, and of all the things he had asked, this was probably the most innocuous: his question was about sex, after all, and not really about her.

“Isn’t that I want something special,” she said. “It’s…” She trailed off as she realized that his question was about her, after all. She couldn’t tell him why sex didn’t feel like much to her without telling him about the pain/pleasure dampener.

Fuck, she thought, frozen by the thought of telling him about the neuromod. Should she just tell him? But then she’d have to explain why she’d gotten it, and that would mean explaining why she was trying to hide — no, she couldn’t get into all that, not even with him — you can’t trust another soul in Night City…

He sighed and ran a hand over his hair. “Shit. Look, if you don’t wanna do it again, that’s… whatever, it’s fine. Just… can I put my pants on? Feel like a gonk with my dick just hanging out.”

She let out a slow breath. “Go ahead.”

He stood up and pulled his pants on, then sat on the couch again with a sigh, and Lucy stood silently at the window with her gaze on the cloud-ridden sky. Her fingers were itching for another cigarette, and she seriously considered lighting another one.

Then, before she could change her mind, she stepped over to the couch instead. She sat on the couch and lounged on her side, and she draped one leg across David’s lap.

His eyebrows rose. His gaze darted to her face, then back to her leg, and he nervously wet his lips. Then, finally, he placed his hand on her thigh.

Cute, she thought. She smiled faintly and propped her cheek on her fist, and when David shyly returned her smile, the relief in his face made her stomach do that unnerving squiggly thing again.

He slowly skimmed his palm down her thigh toward her knee. “How come you’re so comfortable being naked?”

She tilted her head, and he went on. “That time when you were in the ice bath. You got out of the bath like I wasn’t… like we weren’t all standing there — me and Pilar and Kiwi. And Maine, too. We all saw you.”

“So?”

He lifted his shoulders. “So… it doesn’t matter to you who sees you naked?”

“Not if it’s Maine’s crew.”

He frowned. “Maine’s crew? Why’s it matter that it’s Maine’s crew who sees you naked?”

“Because you all know I’m a netrunner,” she said patiently. “Not exactly something you want to advertise out in the open, though.”

He stared at her for a second longer. Then his face cleared with comprehension. “Your cyberware, you mean. That chrome all up your back? It’s all runnerware?”

She nodded, and David nodded too. “Mm, makes sense you’d wanna hide it from the police and corpos and all that. But… I mean, the rest of your body. They… we’ve all seen it. Doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it bother me?” she said. Then she gave him a teasing look. “Why, do you want me to put my clothes back on?”

“No,” he said instantly. “No, don’t — I mean, uh, you can if you want to, but you don’t…” He trailed off. He was blushing now, too, which was really fucking adorable.

She smiled and poked him with her other foot. “I don’t what? Tell me.”

He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck, and she poked him again. “C’mon, David, spit it out.”

He exhaled hard. “I like looking at you, okay? I like… it’s nice seeing you like this.” He smoothed his palm down to her ankle, then back up to her hip. “It’s just… nice.”

She gazed silently at him, her humour chased away once more by the fluttery feeling in her chest. This was another unnerving thing that David kept doing: saying things like this, statements that were simple but honest — statements that sank through her more thoroughly than an armour-piercing round. His touch was getting to her, too: this simple touch, the slow and simple caress of his palm from her hip down to her ankle and back up again, like he was just feeling her skin with no other motives in mind but to feel her.

He was making her feel, too, though, and she didn’t… she hadn’t wanted this. She hadn’t meant for this to happen: this… closeness, this thing that was growing between them. And yet, here she was.

Inevitable, she thought. Or maybe she was just fucking stupid.

She looked away from him. They were both quiet for another moment, Lucy staring unseeingly across the room while David’s palm glided slowly along the length of her leg. Then his voice broke the silence once more. “You like kitsch shit, right? You ever heard of this old movie called Terminator 2?”

She looked at him. “Terminator 2?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Terminator 2: Judgment Day. Ever heard of it?”

“No. When’d it come out?”

He huffed. “It’s old. My mom’s mom watched as a kid growing up, so it’s gotta be… mm, twentieth century old, something like that. Old as fuck.”

She smiled. “A movie from the twentieth century? That really is kitsch.”

He laughed. “I know, I know, but I thought it was preem when I was little. It’s about this kid, John Connor, and his mom — she’s in this insane asylum ‘cause she saw the future where robots blow the whole world to shit, right, and John wants to save her. But while he’s trying to figure out how to get her out, this Terminator comes from the future, and—” He broke off, then wrinkled his nose. “Aw, man, I’m fucking this all up. Lemme start over — can I start over?”

“Take your time,” she said, amused.

He ran a hand over his hair before returning his hand to her leg. “Okay. So the Terminator is this massive strong robot warrior from the future, and it’s got a bulletproof chrome skeleton. It’s like Maine if he went full chrome, you get it?”

“I get it,” she said, charmed by his enthusiasm.

“All right,” he said. “So in the first movie, the Terminator was the bad guy — trying to kill this girl Sarah Connor, ‘cause her kid in the future — her unborn kid, I mean, this kid wasn’t even born yet — her kid was gonna grow up to be the leader of a rebellion in the future where the Terminator’s from.”

“How far in the future was it from?” Lucy asked.

David shrugged. “Dunno. I never saw the first movie.”

She was surprised by this. “Then how do you know what happened in it?”

“My mom told me,” he said. “Anyway, in the first movie, Sarah Connor survives, right? Like, she defeats the Terminator, or she thinks she did. But in the second movie, John Connor — that’s Sarah’s kid, right? He wants to break her out of the asylum, and then the Terminator from the first movie appears and starts trying to help him get Sarah free.”

Lucy frowned. “What? The Terminator is the good guy all of a sudden?”

“Yeah,” he said enthusiastically, “‘cause there’s a new Terminator called the T-1000 who’s even more of a fucking badass. The T-1000 is totally chrome, not just a chrome skeleton, so you can’t even damage him — he just spits out the bullets and reforms back into whoever he looked like before you shot him up.”

Lucy was getting confused, but David was so animated that she didn’t want to stop him. “Sounds nova,” she said.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Except the T-1000 is ruthless as a motherfucker, and he gets melted in a vat of lava at the end since he was totally chrome.”

“No shit?”

“No shit,” he said brightly. “Actually, the Terminator — fuck, I’m jumping ahead again. What I was trying to say was, the Terminator — I mean, the T-800, the one that was helping John get his mom outta the asylum? He becomes like John’s dad. Protects him, hangs out with him and kind of learns to make jokes even though he’s a robot, funny shit like that.” He huffed and shook his head. “I watched that fuckin’ movie so many times when I was little. Used to wish I… mm. Anyway.” He looked away from her, but she could see his brow starting to furrow.

She watched him sympathetically for a second. Then she poked his leg with her foot. “Go on, then. What happens at the end?”

“The T-800 dies,” David said. “Melts himself in the same vat of lava that the T-1000 died in.”

Lucy blinked in surprise. “Wait, the dad Terminator killed himself? Why?”

“Dunno, exactly,” David said. “I forgot that part. But my mom said it was a sacrifice to keep John and his mom safe.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sad, right? But I thought it was nova when I was a kid.” He sighed and ran his palm along her leg, and she watched as his face creased into a frown once more.

They were quiet for a while. Then Lucy reached down and put her hand over his.

He paused in his stroking of her leg and glanced at her, and she tilted her head. “Why did you tell me about this?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Just something to say, I guess.” He gave her a wry little smile. “Told you I wanted to talk. Had to come up with somethin’ to say, didn’t I?”

This wasn’t true. She could tell from his face that it wasn’t true. There was more to what he’d just told her, and they both knew it.

She raised her eyebrows slightly, and he dropped his gaze back to her leg. “Do you… You remember how you said I’ve gotta find my own dream?”

“Yeah.”

He took a deep breath, then let it out on a sigh. “When I was a kid — it was just me and my mom, and… This sounds so dumb. But… I used to wish I had a T-800 for a dad. Someone to just… come and take care of things so my mom wouldn’t have to worry so much. Take care of me while she was workin’ all the time.” He shrugged. “Then I got older. Started wishing I was the T-800. Strong, badass — a fucking legend. No one disrespects the T-800 and survives. No one — I mean, the T-800 wins every fight. No one could beat him, no matter how much they tried. Even the T-1000 couldn’t keep him down in the end.”

“But you said the T-800 died in lava at the end.”

“Sure, but it was his choice,” David said. “He went into the lava keep them safe. Sarah and John Connor, I mean. Besides, he mighta died, but at least he didn’t lose.”

She frowned. “But… dying is losing. You die, and you’re done.”

For a moment, David didn’t reply, and a trickle of fear traced its way down her spine. The movie David had described, this dream of wanting to chrome up and be strong, an ending of death and sacrifice…

Then he smiled at her. “Well, I’m not gonna die, so don’t worry about that.”

Nobody thinks they’re going to die when they’re young, she thought. But she knew only too well that that wasn’t how things worked in the real world. In the real world, talent and youth got you chewed up and spat out one way or another. Whether the chewing was done by Arasaka or Militech or whatever fucking megacorp was trying to use you, or whether it was the work you did to try and escape the corpos’ grip, the world was not kind to you if you were young and talented with nowhere to fucking go.

But that was all too heavy. It was too much of a weight, too much to tell him and too much to reveal. So instead of replying, she sat up and slid her leg off of his lap.

“Where you going?” he asked.

“Nowhere,” she said, and she kissed him.

His lips softened with surprise for a second. Then he was kissing her back, his hand on her arm then on her waist, then on her hip, and he was pulling her closer. And she was straddling his lap again, her fingers in his hair and his fingers sliding up her back and tracing over her runnerware, and… and it was different this time — different than when they were on the roof. David was kissing her slowly now, his lips gliding over hers and his tongue deep but gentle in her mouth, and it was… he was hungry, she could feel his hunger coming to life where she was settled on his lap, and she could feel the hint of hunger blooming just a little bit between her legs — as much as the dampener allowed her to feel it.

But it was more than that. This was more than just that kind of hunger, and it was more than simple lust that was blooming in the depths of her body.

It was him. It was David. He was getting to her, getting past her guard and jacking into her in a way that she hadn’t wanted or expected, but it was too late now to try and push him away: he was here, on her couch, with his hands moving eagerly over her thighs and pulling her closer to his body, his mouth hot and eager and the hard ridge pressing at the cloth of his pants like a silent wish to be inside of her again. But it wasn’t just this carnal heat, the flicker of pleasure that the neuromod allowed her to feel.

It was the way he was making her heart jump. It was the hot and pressured feeling he put into her chest every time his face lit up with that brilliant smile, and every time he let loose with that uninhibited laugh. He was making her feel things — things she’d always kept shut down before, but David was prying them loose with his questions and his laughter and the fierceness in his eyes before he triggered the Sandy that was fused to his spine.

He kissed her, and she felt him. He caressed her hips and gripped her ass and gasped against her cheek when she rubbed herself against him, and she felt him, felt him through her skin and in her lungs and at the apex of her thighs — she felt him, she… she wanted to feel him.

For the first time in her life, she wanted to feel it when she fucked somebody.

Breathing fast now, her heart kicking in her throat, she fumbled her hand between them and stroked him through his pants, and he dropped his head back with a groan. “Mm — Lucy, fuck…”

She traced his ear with her tongue. “Take these off,” she breathed, and she tugged at the waistband of his pants.

“Yeah,” he panted. “Okay, yeah, just — get up for a sec?”

She rose up on her knees, purposely brushing her breast to his cheek as she did, and he made a helpless little groaning sound in his throat that would be cute if it wasn’t so feral. He turned his face to her breast, seeking her nipple with his mouth while he tried to push off his pants without standing up… fuck, he was so eager and awkward and innocent and intense, and she shouldn’t have brought him here — she shouldn’t have let him in, she shouldn’t have let him get so close, but here he was.

Inevitable, she thought, and she guided his mouth to her nipple.

He made a muffled groaning sound and suckled her breast, and the feeling of his mouth on her nipple fanned that little ember of lust in her core. She breathed through her lips — careful slow breaths to calm her nerves — and for the first time since she’d had the dampener installed, she turned it off.

The effect was instantaneous, like amping up the volume. The second the neuromod went off, she felt his teeth pressing lightly into her nipple, and it was so good that she couldn’t breathe.

She dragged in a breath and gripped the back of his neck. “Mm, David,” she whimpered — damn, her voice barely sounded like her own.

He lifted his face. “You okay? Somethin’ wrong?”

His pupils were huge and dark with lust: a fact that she registered a split second before she grabbed his face and thrust her tongue into his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down flush to his lap — fuck, his cock sliding between her lower lips, he was hard and she was… damn it, she was throbbing for him. That faint tingle between her legs was a throbbing pulse now without the neuromod to dampen it, a hot and urgent pulse that was only getting stronger as she rubbed herself along his length — shit, she had never been this wet before.

“Lucy, c’mon, please,” he said brokenly.

She lifted herself and grabbed his cock and sank onto him.

Fuck, she was… god, she was stunned. She could feel him, so deep and hard, this was — please, she’d never imagined… she’d never felt this way when fucking anyone before, never, and she was so damn stunned by the fullness of his cock that the only thing she could do was make a high-pitched little mewling sound.

He squeezed her hip and her arm. “You okay?” he panted. “Lucy, are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” she gasped, and she sank down onto his cock with another hard thrust.

He moaned and took her nipple in his mouth, and she dug her nails into the back of his neck, her knuckles bumping against the Sandevistan as her fingers sought purchase on the warmth of his shoulders, and then she was rising and falling on his lap — fuck, it felt like sparks were firing in her body and her brain every time she took him deep.

She whimpered like a cat in heat and gripped his shoulders hard. He was breathing hard, too, gripping her hips and clutching her shoulder blades to pull her close. Her nose skimmed his neck, and his scent — fuck, his scent: the musk of his sweat, the piney smoothness of his deodorant, the sharpness of gunpowder and the iron tang of blood, all of it softened and sweetened by the simple scent of laundry…

Her heart throbbed in her throat. The next thing she knew, she was biting his neck, and he was moaning and bucking his hips like he was trying to fill her up even more—

They were on the bed.

Lucy gasped. They — how—?

She looked up at David, who was stretched out on top of her now. “Did you use the Sandy?” she said incredulously.

He half-smiled, mischievous and cocky but still so fucking innocent, and her heart thumped like it was trying to throw itself at him. Then David was holding her hands, his fingers twined tightly with hers and holding her down as he fucked her, his hips driving into hers and his face contorted with pleasure, and Lucy could feel her own face twisting too as his cock stroked inside of her in ways that she’d never been able to feel before.

She arched her spine and rubbed her feet blissfully against his thighs. He let go of her hands, and then he was hooking her legs over his arms — fuck, god, he was even deeper now, slamming into her so deeply that it almost hurt.

“Slow,” she yelped. “Slow, slow down.”

“Sorry,” he gasped, and he paused with his cock half-inside of her.

She burst out a breathless laugh. “I didn’t say stop.”

He smiled — a sheepish little smile that made her heart do that unnerving jumping thing again — and then he was fucking her slowly, so slow and deep with his eyes on her face, and she couldn’t breathe. She was arrested by the look on his face, this look of pleasure and desire and wide-open guileless wonder, and she knew that this was deeper than just the sex. It was deeper than the rise and fall of his hips into hers as they moved together in the sharp neon light. He was deep-diving now, finding and decrypting parts of her that she’d kept locked away for so fucking long, and she knew she shouldn’t have let him get this deep. She knew what it would mean to open up to him like this, to let him inside of her when her guard was down and her body was open wide in ways that she’d never opened up to anyone before. But here she was anyway, and it was too late to try and keep him at bay.

Inevitable. The word drifted across her mind, an idle thought carried on the warm tide of pleasure that he was bringing her with every slow and measured thrust, and when he came a minute later, the inevitability of his orgasm felt fitting, too.

She stroked his arm as he shivered with pleasure. When his body stilled, he lifted his face to look at her, and the half-smile on his face held just a hint of pride. “That was better than the first time, right?” he said.

She nodded, because it was true. This was the only time that sex had ever felt good — the first time, really, that she’d ever let herself feel it at all.

“Awesome,” he said with relish. “All right, I wanna try something.” He pulled out of her, then kneeled at the foot of the bed.

She sat up on her elbows. “Try what, exactly?”

“Something I saw in a BD,” he said, and he started pushing her legs apart.

She grabbed his wrist. “Something you—? Hang on. David, what exactly do you wanna do?”

He looked up at her with those big brown puppy-dog eyes. “Something that girls — uh, that women like.”

She gave him a flat look. “According to an XBD? You really think that’s a good source of information?”

“Not an XBD,” he said scornfully. “Wouldn’t do anything I saw in an XBD. I’m not a total fucking gonk. It’s just something I saw in a normal BD.”

“A normal BD,” she said skeptically.

His shoulders hunched a bit. “... okay, maybe it’s a BD I saw at Lizzie’s Bar.”

She smiled, then pushed his hand off of her thigh. “You are not doing something that you saw on a porn BD at Lizzie’s Bar.”

His eyes widened even more. “No, come on, just let me try this, please? It’s supposed to make you come.”

That took her by surprise. “Make me come?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I wanna make you come, too. Seems kinda unfair otherwise, right?”

She stared at him, her tongue tied by how fucking earnest he was. He actually cared about this, didn’t he? He actually gave a shit that she enjoyed this, too.

Her heart felt like it was blocking her throat. Nobody had ever given a shit how she felt about sex before. Not that she expected or wanted them to, since the point was to be anonymous, but the fact that David cared… Fuck, he really cared. He cared what she wanted and how she felt, about her thoughts and her life, and nobody had ever cared about any of that before.

He squeezed her thigh. “Trust me, okay?” he said.

Can’t trust a soul in Night City. Kiwi’s synth-smooth voice drifted across her mind, but she was nodding her head, nodding like a fucking idiot who should definitely know better, and David was giving her that sweet little smile — oh, fuck, and now he was lowering his mouth between her legs.

A sudden wave of heat rushed down toward her sex. She stared at him as his mouth drew nearer, tense and breathless now with a jittery anticipation that felt an awful lot like fear, and when he paused with his mouth hovering over her sex, the warmth of his breath made her pussy pulse with an intensity that was almost alarming.

He wet his lips. “You can do this,” he muttered, as though he was talking to himself, and he kissed her pussy.

Lucy shivered — in a good way. His eyes darted to her face, and he kissed her again, a little more firmly this time, and she pulled in a shaky little breath. She could feel the exact spot in her sex where her heart was beating hard, the exact place he needed to touch in order to make her come, but she’d never done this herself and no one else had ever done it, either, so she wasn’t sure… And besides, this felt good as it was: the gentleness of David’s lips, the warmth, the way her body seemed to be clamouring for him — it was all so good already, and she’d never felt this good before.

He kissed her again and again, warm little kisses that caressed her sex in a dizzying way, and she flexed her hips helplessly toward him. With every kiss, every delicate press of his mouth, she could feel the pulse point of her pleasure beating like a tiny drum trying to call for the touch of his tongue, and the more he kissed her, the more tense and pent-up she felt. It was like the electric hum of a monowire coming to life, but the hum was between her legs where his lips were moving, such soft lips — oh. Fuck yes, oh fuck, his tongue—!

He lifted his head and made a little face, and Lucy dragged in a breath. “What’s wrong?” she panted.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just, uh… I can taste my own… stuff.”

She stared at him for a second, then realized what he meant. “Your own cum?” she said with a grin. “That’s your problem?”

He shot her a dirty look, and she laughed. “Should’ve thought of that before you fucked me, I guess.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… whatever. I’ll deal with it.” He kissed her again, then pressed his tongue through her folds.

A spark of pleasure arced through her body, and she arched her spine with a gasp. Then David was holding her thighs open, and his hands on her thighs — fuck, his warm hands holding her wide, his mouth so hot and slick as he licked her clit, and it felt so good but ah it was so intense—

She rested her hand on his hair. “Gentle,” she rasped. “Be more gentle.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and his tongue eased off… oh fuck, fuck yes, that was better — no that was great. He was licking her lightly now, wet little open-mouthed kisses with his tongue moving around her clit — moving around it, such a light and teasing way to touch her, and she had no idea if he knew how good this kind of gentle teasing touch was, but with every careful pass of his tongue, a tight and thrumming sort of heat was building in the depths of her abdomen.

She breathed shakily and flexed her hips up toward his mouth, wanting to chase that feeling and make it coil even tighter, and he stroked her clit with his tongue and pushed that tense and jittery heat even higher. She gasped and tightened her fingers in his hair, and then she was bucking her hips toward his mouth as though she was fucking his tongue, and he was gripping her thighs and sliding his slick hot tongue over her clit — she was gasping, gasping for breath, holding her breath now, fuck, she couldn’t fucking breathe — it was coming and she couldn’t breathe, she was going to come, it was inevitable—

And she came. For the first time in her life, Lucy came, and it was nova — literally nova. Stars were bursting on the blackness of her eyelids, white-hot stars bursting in the depths of her body and sending sparks of electricity through her veins, as though her circuits were being fried with ecstasy.

“Oh, that’s preem,” David breathed, and he slid two fingers inside of her.

She arched her spine. “Ah, David!” she cried.

“Can we go again?” he said eagerly. “Can we — I want to fuck you again, can we—?”

“Yes,” she burst out, and she pushed his hand away. She shifted back on the bed, then rolled onto her elbows and knees.

She tossed her hair from her face and looked at him over her shoulder, and her belly jumped with excitement: he was gaping at her, his mouth hanging open and his eyes huge as he stared at her ass.

“Come on, then,” she said coyly. “Third time’s the charm.”

A smile lit his face — god, that fucking heartwrenching smile — and then he was kneeling behind her on the bed, his hands were on his hips, he was nudging her pussy from behind, yes yes David right now—

His first stroke made her see stars again. His second stroke made her whole body feel like it was quaking from the inside out. By the third stroke, she was sobbing with how fucking exquisite she felt.

His palm slid down her back. “Lucy, hey, what’s wrong—”

“Nothing!” she cried. “Just — ah, just fuck me!”

“Okay,” he blurted. “Okay, I’ll — mm, motherfucker…” He trailed off with a guttural groan, his cock sliding deep and spurring another mind-blowing rush of pleasure to roll through her body, and she lay there helplessly, gasping and moaning while David filled her up, her cheek pressed to the mattress as she made little mewling noises that she’d never made before—

She was suddenly flush to the wall. She was kneeling upright on the pillows, her palms and her cheek pressed to the cool metal of the wall while David pumped into her from behind, and a startled laugh burst from her lips. “Stop using the Sandevistan,” she scolded.

“Sorry,” he panted. “Not even thinking about it, I swear… f-fuck me, I’m gonna come.”

“Do it,” she said. “I already did, twice.”

“You — twice?” he exclaimed. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.”

“Oh, fucking nova,” he said breathlessly, and he fucked her faster, his fingers digging into her shoulder and her hip, and Lucy listened with a languid sort of contentment as his breathing grew more and more erratic. When he came, he groaned and pressed his chest flush to her spine and curled his arm around her in a tight embrace, and the sticky heat of his skin made that heavy warmth swell in her chest once more.

He shuddered against her, his breath hot against her shoulder blade as he pumped into her fitfully a few more times, and when he finally went still, it was with his forehead pressed to her back and his arms wrapped loosely around her waist.

He was hugging her from behind. His breath was a warm breeze against her back, and being held like this, it was… damn it, she had not expected this. She hadn’t expected any of this. When she’d nabbed him on the skytrain a couple months back, she had not expected to end up here, with him, like this: bare in more ways than just her skin, held tight in the warm organic arms of a scrappy street kid who was too damned good for the life he’d been given.

She drew a deep breath to lessen the squeeze around her heart, then relaxed back against his chest, and he settled his arms a little more snugly around her. They rested like that for a while, Lucy sitting on his lap while he hugged her from behind, and she silently pondered the warm and swollen feeling that was metastasizing in her chest.

She knew what this feeling was — hell, if she was honest with herself, she’d known this was coming on for weeks. She’d known it since she took him to the moon, she’d known what was happening… no, not what was happening, but what she was allowing to happen. It was the very thing she’d avoided for years, the dangerous thing she’d steered away from ever since she’d escaped from that fucking place. It was happening, unavoidable as sunrise, unavoidable as death — it was coming upon her, taking hold of her even though she’d tried to deny it and push it away.

But there was no denying it now. As Lucy she sat here on David’s lap with his cock still resting warmly inside of her, she knew what was blooming and unfurling between herself and him, and she knew that there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Inevitable, she thought, and she closed her stinging eyes.

She had no idea how long they sat there like that, Lucy soaking in the warmth of David’s skin while he breathed quietly against her back. Then, finally, he spoke. “Hey, um… I think we’re gonna make a mess when you get up.”

“It’s okay,” she said, and she rose off his lap.

His cum trickled warmly along the inside of her thigh, and he pulled a face and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry. Should I — I can get a towel or something…?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. She wiped at the inside of her thigh with the bedsheet, then stretched out on the bed. Now that her heart was starting to settle, with the neuromod dampener turned off, she could feel a whisper of pain along her scalp where she’d been cut earlier tonight during the cyberpsycho brawl. But the pain was nothing, drowned out by the overwhelming roar of everything good that David had given her tonight, and she wished that things could stay this way forever: the pleasure outweighing the pain, the good drowning out the bad.

But Lucy wasn’t an optimist. She wasn’t like David, naive and bold and full of hope, even if he didn’t believe it. She knew how ugly the world really was, how seductive and insidious the lure of cyberware could be for someone who thought they had everything to prove, and she was scared of what might come.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, then glanced at him. He was sitting cross-legged now, looking awkward once more, and Lucy managed a smile as she settled her head on her folded arm. “What’s on your mind?” she said.

He idly scratched his arm. “Why is your bed a circle?”

She huffed a laugh. “What?”

“Your bed,” he said. “Why’s it a circle? Doesn’t make sense. It takes up more space in your apartment than it has to.”

She smiled at him. “Lie down, David.”

A little smile lit his face — fucking cute — and he lay back beside her. She rolled onto her side to face him, and she watched with a painful kind of warmth in her chest as his gaze darted sideways to her, then up to the ceiling.

He swallowed hard, then cleared his throat. “So, um… I can, I mean, if you want me to go…”

“Stay,” she said simply. “Stay the night.”

He relaxed visibly. “You sure?”

“Yes,” she said. “I want you to stay.”

A tiny smile curled his lips. Then he rolled onto his side to face her — a perfect match for the way she was curled on her side facing him.

David looked at her in silence, his chestnut-brown eyes steady and serious as they studied her face, and Lucy returned his gaze just as somberly. He was beautiful like this, lean and lanky and just a little bit ripped with his growing muscles, but she knew what this world did to people who were young and earnest and eager to prove themselves, and she knew he wouldn’t stay this way for long.

She reached out and gently pinched his chin. “You’re dangerous,” she said quietly.

His eyebrows jumped up, then creased into a frown. “I would never hurt you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

He scoffed. “What, you think I’m gonna go cyberpsycho like that fucker who took out Pilar?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?”

She didn’t reply. She had so much on her mind, so many thoughts tumbling and roiling in her head, and all of them were about him. She was thinking about his determination to be strong and his eagerness to learn, and how aimless he was. She was thinking about his sunny smile and his goofy laughter and the way he wanted so badly for her to come, and she was thinking about the movie he’d watched so many times as a kid — the movie where the strong and invincible hero went to his death without losing the fight.

She had so many thoughts on her mind — so many worries — and they were all about David. For the first time in years, the first time since Lucy had left that fucking place, it wasn’t her own life that she was afraid for.

“Lucy?”

She looked at him. “Mhm?”

“I’m gonna take you to the moon, okay?” he said. “I mean that. I promise.”

His expression was fierce. He meant what he said; she knew he did. Still, he could change his mind. He was already changing in other ways, growing bolder and stronger as time went on, getting harder with every job — harder in ways that had both nothing and everything to do with the Sandevistan fused to his spine.

You can’t trust anyone in Night City. Kiwi’s voice was in her head again, and she knew the truth of the older netrunner’s words. But still, with David…

She exhaled softly. It was stupid to trust anyone, and she knew it. But still, here she was.

She reached out and stroked his cheek, then traced her fingers over the lines shaved into the close-cropped hair at his temples. He frowned at her with that fierce look in his eyes, but she simply met his gaze as she stroked his hair. Gradually, bit by bit, his expression softened and relaxed, and Lucy watched with an ache in her chest as his eyelids slowly fluttered shut.

She stroked his hair as he slept, then shuffled closer to him until their knees were barely touching. She closed her eyes, and she was just drifting off when David suddenly breathed in sharply through his nose.

“Mm,” he groaned.

She opened her eyes. His eyes were still closed, but his face was crumpled, as though he was having a bad dream.

Before she could react, his hand slid across the mattress toward her. “Lucy?” he murmured.

“I’m here,” she whispered, and she touched his hand.

His face relaxed. He curled his fingers over her hand, then pulled her hand close and tucked it against his chest. A second later, he was asleep once more.

The ache in her rib cage pressed its way up to the backs of her eyes. She stared at him in the darkness, his profile limned by the neon glow of the holo screens above her bed. She watched the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, and she stored every detail of this moment in her mind. She memorized the shape of his shoulders, the scent of his skin on her sheets, even the shape and size of his cock nestled in the dark hair between his legs, because she knew he wasn’t going to stay like this forever. She could see him changing already, gaining more strength and more confidence than his organic body could contain, and she knew things wouldn’t stay this way forever.

A tear streaked down over the bridge of her nose. Inevitable, she thought; she could imagine what might come, what he was becoming and what might happen, and she wanted so badly for things to go another way.

But maybe they could. If she stayed close to him, if she watched over him, then… then maybe she could keep him safe. Maybe he wouldn’t fall prey to the voracious and cruel hunger of Night City, like so many other poor and talented people had fallen before.

Maybe the worst didn’t have to come to pass. Maybe, for once, Lucy could use her past to do something good.

Maybe, just maybe, the worst didn’t have to be inevitable.

She studied David’s face in the darkness, memorizing the sharpness of his cheekbones and the shadows that his eyelashes cast on his skin. Comforted by the easy rise-and-fall of his chest, soothed by the hope that maybe some things weren’t quite so inevitable after all, Lucy finally drifted off to sleep.

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