Chapter Text
It was a week into Kerry’s second year of Master degree when his computer decided to crash. First it got really slow, then it would sometimes freeze to the point Kerry needed to restart it, and finally, it gave him the Blue Screen of Death. As a Bachelor of Fine Art student, majoring in musical education, Kerry was absolutely shit at computers. He used his for two things mostly: record samples from the songs he wrote with his band, Samurai, and to watch porn.
In despair, he turned to Nancy, because it was always his first reflex when things turned to shit, and she pointed him to the Students’ Computer Science Club, which everyone called the Netrunning Circle. Apart from allegedly hacking into corpo mainframes for fun, they also could repair computers for very cheap. The only catch: no guarantee of amelioration.
Since Kerry had no money to spare on official repairs, and needed his computer to hold for another three years because there was no way he could ever buy a new one, he brought the computer to the club.
It took him some time to find it. Apparently, the exact location was often liable to change, if he believed the strange indications he’d gotten from various students, to the point Kerry wondered if the club really was legit. He finally found a door at the end of a corridor in the botanical building. There was a piece of paper taped to it which announced this was indeed the club’s room. Under the name was a hastily drawn pirate flag and a colorful anarchy symbol. Snorting in amusement, Kerry pushed the door open.
It was a mess, there was no other word: Every inch was covered by desks half collapsing under the weight of computers of all size and age. The wall at the back of the room was covered by servers flashing at regular intervals, with an army of fans blowing in their direction and making papers fly around every time they turned.
The windows had been covered with dark fabrics, the room being lit by mismatched desk lamps instead. Front and center was a table which only bore one lonely laptop, caught between two chairs. It looked so neat and professional in the middle of the chaos it gave Kerry the chills. There was a little bell on the desk with a note instructing to ring if no one was around. The Fine Arts student did and waited.
A head appeared at the back of the room, over a row of screens, before disappearing promptly again.
Kerry waited a bit more before clearing his throat.
“I saw you, you know,” he drawled with a smile and heard a faint curse before the head reappeared.
The guy made his way up front, allowing Kerry to take a good look at him. He was tall, with large shoulders and legs that seemed to go on forever, the kind of build you found on the football team more than in the nerd club, but Kerry wasn’t complaining.
He had short hair, shaved to a buzz on the sides, slightly longer on top, and green sparkling eyes set in a carefully neutral expression. Two parallel cyberware scars on his face informed Kerry he was equipped with a netrunning gear. They ran over his cheekbones and back up to connect with his deck behind his ears. The scars were delicate and shimmering with electronic gold — a testament to the skills of the doc who’d installed the cyberware. Thin lips surrounded by a five o’clock beard, a sharp nose and a finely chiseled jaw completed the picture. Kerry had met more handsome men, but this one clearly exuded something: a reserve in his attitude that always called to Kerry, who loved nothing more than to unveil the mystery surrounding these guys. It generally wasn’t much, and didn’t hold his attention for long, but his interest was always piqued.
“Yeah?” the guy called when he was at the desk.
Kerry patted his laptop, held in his arms.
“Blue Screen of Death. I was told you could help.”
The guy sighed but nodded and took a seat on the chair behind the computer. Kerry didn’t wait to be invited to sit on the remaining one, pushing the broken laptop between them. The guy eyed the device like it had the plague and yeah, maybe he wasn’t wrong, but it was nothing he could catch. Hopefully.
Bringing the club’s computer to life, the guy turned to Kerry.
“Name, student ID and a short description of the problem.”
Kerry crossed his arms.
“I’ll give you my name when you give me yours, seems only fair.”
The other rolled his eyes.
“I’m V. So... Name?”
“Kerry Eurodyne. V is not a real name.”
“Well, only my closest friends get to know that and you’re not on the list. So let’s settle on V.”
Kerry couldn't help but snort.
“Feisty.”
The other man blinked twice before focusing on his computer. After a few clicks he started typing something and then looked at the poor laptop between them.
“What’s the model?”
“It’s a Seigan.”
“That’s the brand. The model?”
When Kerry only smiled helplessly at him, V gave him an unimpressed look before gingerly flipping the device. With another sigh, he added something on what Kerry supposed was a form.
“Ok. Problem?” V prompted.
“As I said, Blue Screen of Death.”
“Did you try to turn it off and on again?”
Kerry laughed out loud.
“Fuck yeah, been doing that for the past few days.”
V winced and nodded. Strangely, he seemed to relax a bit.
“You thought I was one of those idiots, right?” Kerry quipped with a smirk.
“I'll reserve my judgment for later,” was the cheeky reply, “how did it happen? Did it start to give signs of dysfunction?”
“It was slow.”
“When did you start noticing it was getting slower?”
“A month ago or so?”
More typing.
“Do you have protection on your computer? Updated firewall, antivirus?”
It was Kerry’s turn to blink.
“I update it when it asks me.”
V snorted.
“Is the license legit or did you crack it?”
“It’s legit. Came with the scholarship.”
This made V pause.
“You’re on scholarship?”
Kerry crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, automatically on the defense when the subject was broached. Night City was one of the most progressive free cities on the subject, and had a very efficient program to help students from the poorer parts of town get a higher education, but the University was still one of the best and highly sought after. In consequence, it was mostly filled by privileged people who liked to remind Kerry that only his lucky talent for guitar had granted him a spot there.
“Yeah,” he let out with a slight frown.
“Me too,” the netrunner replied with a small smile. It made the dimple of his left cheek appear and Kerry found himself matching his expression as his heart skipped a beat.
“So, tell me: did you open any suspicious mail?” V continued with a more cheerful expression.
“No, I’m not that dumb.”
“Heh, they get better and better every year. The one about penis enlargements are still going strong…” he trailed off with a raised eyebrow and Kerry chuckled.
“I don’t need that. Wanna check?”
As far as flirting went, Kerry was rarely more subtle than that, so it was second nature to him. He stood up, hands on his belt and laughed with satisfaction as the guy reddened, clearly not prepared to have the table turned on him so easily.
“Jeez, no thanks, that’s fine, I believe you, whatever, fuck ,” he concluded in a breath, concentrating on his screen again, but Kerry didn't miss the way he glanced at him once more.
Clearing his throat, V seemed to brace himself for the next question.
“Any weird websites?” he asked, and, looking like he would rather not, added: “porn sites?”
Kerry put an elbow on the desk and rested his chin on his hand.
“You wanna know about all my kinks? I usually wait until the end of the first date, but for a cute face like yours I might do an exception.”
Kerry watched in delight as V's face flushed even brighter while he sputtered. When he cottoned on he was being teased, the netrunner pulled a face, straightened on his chair and glared at Kerry.
“Well, most porn sites are viruses nests, so Murphy — that's our president — established a list of most probable viruses per site. It would help if you just answered the question.”
“So it’s a virus? What, it caught the computer equivalent of a STD?”
“Maybe. Or… did you lend it to anyone, put a chip in, link it to an unfamiliar network?”
Kerry blinked.
“All of those things?”
V sighed and typed some more on his computer.
“Gosh, you’re worse than my high school sex-ed teacher…” Kerry commented cheerfully.
“Your computer is a sacred device, Kerry, it can accomplish great things for you but only if you treat it right, that means protecting it from suspicious networks, either by installing an anti-malware program, or abstaining from connecting to some unsavory websites…”
The other man chuckled.
“Asking me to put on a condom, basically.”
“If you must absolutely visit those websites then yeah, basically. I insist on the merits of abstinence, though.”
“Oh my fucking god,” Kerry laughed, “you can’t be serious!”
Indeed, the ghost of a playful smile flashed on V’s face before he got serious again.
“So, porn websites?”
With a snort, Kerry told him to just look at his favorites on his browser and after another deadpan look, V decided to go on.
“Ok, I’ll need your access password, and for you to sign this,” the computer science student continued, eyes flashing golden as he transferred the form to Kerry. With a blink of an eye, the guitarist accepted the terms without reading, prompting an eyebrow raise from the other man.
“You know there is no guarantee you’ll ever see your laptop back, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve been told.”
“Great.”
He watched as Kerry wrote down his password on a sticky note like it was still the early 2000.
“S@mUra1, huh, not as bad as I expected.”
“You thought it was gonna be my birthdate or something just as lame, didn’t you?”
V didn’t deny it, making Kerry chuckle again.
“Samurai is my band, we play chrome rock. Our next concert is in two weeks, Friday, at the Afterlife.”
“I don’t like chrome rock,” V replied laconically, and Kerry gasped, putting a hand over his heart.
“You wound me.”
“You’ll survive. Come back in a week,” he finished, finally taking the poor laptop in his hands. He didn’t wait for acknowledgement from his “customer” before he was gingerly transporting the device to the back of the room.
With a shake of head, Kerry watched him go, eyes fixed on his cute, round and shaped ass enclosed in his dark jeans.
By the end of the week, Kerry was back and glad to get his computer back, hopefully. He’d had to take notes from his class on paper and that was even messier than usual. This time, V wasn’t alone in the room, there was a cute girl in an overall, with hair dyed pink and green, shaved on the right side. She had huge soulful eyes and a little accent when she talked.
“Hi, I’m Judy, welcome to the Computer Science Club.”
Kerry skipped to the desk and leaned on the edge.
“Hi Judy, I’m Kerry,” he replied with a charming smile. “Nice to meet you. You’re a lot more welcoming than your pal V here.”
She snorted and glanced at her friend, who glared. He was making his way toward them with Kerry’s laptop under his arm.
“Verdict?” the Fine Arts student asked with a lighter tone than he really felt. He didn’t know what he would do if he’d to buy a new one.
“It’s fine,” V grumbled, “I fixed it.”
“V is our resident machine whisperer,” Judy explained, “he can fix anything, don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried,” he lied with a smile.
“Well, you should have been,” V continued, “This,” he pointed to the computer he’d just laid on the desk, “was so infested with nasties I had to ramp up my own protocols not to get fucked.”
Kerry had the grace to look sheepish, but it didn’t last long.
“But you fixed it!”
“But I fixed it, yeah,” he admitted with a small proud smile.
“Thanks.”
“No worries.”
They looked at each other in awkward silence for a few seconds under Judy’s interested gaze until V cleared his throat.
“I, huh, installed a basic anti-malware program on your computer so that you can… continue watching porn in peace,” he explained.
There was a moment of utter silence before V pushed the device at Kerry, nearly dropping it over the edge of the desk before sharply turning away, face flaming. Catching his laptop, Kerry didn’t have time to reply before V was hiding behind the back row of computers. Judy’s laugh made him focus on her.
“Oh god, he likes you!” she snorted, “That’s cute. What’s your name again?”
Kerry and her proceeded to exchange their deets, before she promised she would drag V to the following Samurai’s show.
Getting out of the room with a bright smile, Kerry knew he was going to get into the guy’s pants, one way or another.
Alt moaned, sweet and out loud in the back room. She gripped Johnny’s hair tighter and tilted her pelvis toward him, deepening the penetration. Her cunt sheathed his cock perfectly, taking him balls deep and he grunted, metal hand curling possessively over her hip while the other maintained her thigh around his waist. She was perched on the vanity, if a fractured mirror put over a third hand faux-wood table counted as that, but it didn’t matter as long as it served its current purpose.
Johnny panted against her neck and shivered from the sensations, closing his eyes for a second to regroup. He would have loved to let himself go, feel her truly, but he couldn’t, not when he focused so much on bringing her off, on staying hard enough, on the angle of penetration to rub over her sweet spot on each pass. Before her, he’d never thought about all this during sex, he’d enjoyed the moment with his partner of the day and none had ever complained. He knew some had truly spent spectacular nights in bed with him because, despite his reputation as an uncaring egocentric asshole, he actually liked when his bedmates had fun. To him, sex was something to be enjoyed by both parties and he generally made the effort. But Alt always seemed unimpressed with him in bed, her face closed off to him after, shrugging when he asked if she’d liked it.
She did that with everything: keeping herself shrouded in mystery and it was exactly what had him hooked. He felt piqued in his pride, but it also ran deeper: he desperately wanted to please her. She made him feel like a boy, worthless, like he’d something to prove and he hated that sensation. He hated it and he hated her for making him feel like this but he couldn’t stop trying to please her, to get her approval.
His hips rocked inside her at just the right pace, which was faster than he would have liked: he loved thrusting deep and slow into his partners before speeding up for a few seconds and slowing again, driving them mad. But if he did that with Alt, she said it made her lose her momentum and “spoiled her orgasms”. So he went at her pace, trying to think of something else than the way her skin felt against his lips, how he loved her smell, and the way her cunt fluttered around his cock. She was close, he knew it, and he hated the relief he felt knowing that. Fucking her was a physical feat and he was exhausted from the show, from his night spent managing the bar before that, and just thinking about going back to bartending after made him itch for a strong line of synthcoke. She would provide it of course: she always did that, briging him the good drugs like candies given to a good boy and fuck he hated, hated her, and hated himself even more for falling for that again.
Johnny never knew when she would show up. He always told her when Samurai performed, but Alt’s answer was always the same: “I'll see, if I’ve nothing better to do”. Tonight she’d been there so Johnny had gone overboard with the show and he knew Kerry was pissed because he’d stolen his solo but she’d been in the crowd and he’d wanted to show off. For her. These days it felt like everything he did was to try and impress her, show her he was worthy of her precious time and attention.
She choked on her moan as she came, not giving him the satisfaction of hearing her. Her cunt gripped his cock and he bit on her shoulder to muffle his own cry of pleasure. She twitched and jerked against him a few more times before sagging. Backing off, he caught the end of a blissed out smile before her mask fell again and her usual haughty expression took place on her face.
“You close?” she asked, and Johnny shook his head. He had a harder and harder time coming with her, and tonight he didn’t have time.
“‘m fine,” he grunted before kissing her, hoping to distract her from asking more questions. She didn’t, hoping off the table and stretching like a satisfied cat. Johnny tried to find solace in that, but the only thing he could feel as he stepped away was the pounding of his heart and the acid sensation in his stomach. He leaned against the vanity as she pulled her pants back on, and lit a cigarette; he’d long ago deactivated the fire alarm. It was his bar, his rules, he argued.
“The show was good,” Alt commented as she faced him to watch herself in the mirror. “Great energy, the whole band. You especially, you were amazing Johnny,” she granted with a genuine smile and he hated the way it made him want to preen. He tried to rein in the smile that threatened to escape, but failed. He was powerless against her, she drove him mad in the sweetest and most terrible ways.
“You stayin’?” he asked to cover his slip up but the way her eyes shone told him she knew the effect her words had on him.
“No,” she declared, “can’t, have this thing tomorrow morning. Job interview.”
Johnny knew she was a skilled computer science engineer, highly sought after because of her graduation paper, so she loved to play difficult to get and had been courted by several companies already. He didn’t ask which it was, only shrugged and smashed his smoke into the ashtray before closing his pants and belt.
Alt came into his space and kissed him on the lips, a teasing press of her mouth before she retrieved a little pack of powder from her jeans and placed it in his hand. He hadn’t even remarked how he’d opened his palm to receive it. With a last wink, she walked out of the door.
“See you, J,” she said with her sing-song voice.
Johnny closed his eyes, gripped the little bag of powder in his chrome fist and counted to five.
Half an hour later he as fucking glad he’d done a fat line before coming back into the bar because the evening was going strong and he didn’t have a minute to himself. Rogue looked harried next to him, bartending too because they lacked one guy to cover that shift. It was his fault, mostly, because he’d gotten into a fight with their previous bartender over a silly thing but the truth was Johnny suspected the guy from turning a blind eye when he saw someone getting roofied. So here he was, dealing with clients after a show instead of enjoying the post-concert glow. While he was glad about the success of the night for both the band and the club, he had to admit how much he hated dealing with drunks and idiots. Unfortunately for him, it seemed the Afterlife was full of them tonight.
Time passed in a blur of faces and orders until he could take a break, an hour before closing time. Rogue jerked her head to the right, and he followed her cue to find Kerry at the edge of the bar in a conversation with a guy Johnny didn’t know. He looked out of place in his too big plain black hoodie and worn sneakers.
Johnny made his way toward his childhood friend, whose cheeks looked dewy with perspiration and alcohol. He was grinning at the boy — because coming closer, Johnny saw he was young — and grinned harder when he saw Johnny.
“Hey! Look who finally got a break!”
Kerry rasped the counter and raised an eyebrow at the bartender.
“Can you make us three Silverhand’s specials?” he asked, eyes shining with hope. “On the house?”
Johnny snorted, rolled his eyes but it wasn’t like he could say no to that so, with a grumble, he complied.
The guy was named V, Johnny learned five minutes later as Kerry introduced them around the glasses. He was a student at Night City University, majoring in computer science and engineering, which Johnny knew was the high star program.
“V is looking for a bit of work,” Kerry explained halfway through his drink. Johnny noted that the guy had yet to touch his. He sniffed it suspiciously before taking a small sip and prompting couching. The rocker and bartender smirked.
"Careful."
“What the fuck’s in there?”
“Chilli garnish,” Johnny explained as his expression grew.
V eyed the glass with a frown and then looked at Kerry knocking back his like it was milk. With clear amusement, Johnny watched the computer science student imitate his friend and shudder, eyes pinched close as the warmth of the drink went through his trachea. V exhaled loudly before gingerly putting back the glass on the counter.
“Fuck,” he muttered, then smaked his lips and pushed the glass toward Johnny: “Another?”
Smile softening despite himself, Johnny grunted and went to refill it.
“Why are you looking for work? Students rarely need to work here. You got the government’s grant, right?”
“And the scholarship one, too. Same Stars Foundation” he added, pointing to himself and Johnny nodded, glancing at his childhood friend.
Kerry’s scholarship was from the Disadvantaged Neighborhoods Program, which was run by the city’s council to promote its poorer districts. The Same Stars took care of foster care children, following them through adulthood if they tried for a degree, or else helping them find work.
“But netrunning gear is fucking expensive, and my foster mom said if I was to commit felonies, I could do it with my own money.”
Johnny let out a bark-like laughter.
“Felonies, right… You don’t really look the part.”
A properly impish smile grew on the nerd’s face and he fucking winked at Johnny.
“Hey, I got caught while hacking into the precinct’s system and — “
“You hacked the cop house?!” Kerry interrupted him, “The fuck why?”
“A friend was in a spot of trouble,” the young man mumbled, cheeks coloring.
“So what? You thought you could, huh, wipe out their file or?”
“Exactly that. Didn’t work, though. Got caught.”
“Bit of a vigilante, are you?” Johnny mocked, finishing his drink.
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” he defended, “was just helping out, didn’t know what he was carrying, and he was about to get his dream job. Would have put a black mark on his record and… Since, erm… Since it was partly my fault, I thought I could help,” he finished lamely.
“But you got caught,” Kerry said with a smile.
“Yeah. But the cop said I had potential and actually gave me the pamphlet for the NCU’s program. My counselor was ecstatic when I came back with that,” he grinned and the dimples of his cheeks appeared, eyes sparkling in the low light. Johnny’s heart gave a lurch, which was promptly denied. He’d enough on his plate not to chase after boys with pretty smiles, especially if Kerry was already half as smitten as he appeared.
“Did your friend get sentenced?”
“He got community work,” V said with a shrug and it was clear he didn’t want to talk about this more. “So… the job?”
Johnny sighed and ignored the way Kerry’s eyes were burning through his skull, trying to beg him to say yes on the spot.
“You got any experience?”
“Helped out at my foster mom’s joint, but mostly in the kitchen.”
“T’s not the same ‘ere,” Johnny drawled, “customers are mostly drunk students, they’ll try to take the drink without paying. Not always on purpose; they’re just all airheads. Plus, you gotta watch the crowd, make sure they stay in line.We don’t tolerate harassment of any kind. If you see something, you gotta alert me or Rogue, and intervene if it’s close enough to you. It can get heated.”
V opened his mouth to say something but Johnny didn’t leave him time to get a say.
“From thursday to monday morning, this place is packed, you won’t get a breath during your shift, barely enough time to pee. And after that, you still need to clean up everything. It’s long hours and a shitty pay. You sure you’re up for that?”
V straightened like this was a challenge.
“Sure I am! I can do it, no prob.”
He looked cute, like a kitten faced with a too-high jump. Biting his lower lip to refrain a laugh, Johnny humed, reaching for his pack of smoke.
“Alright, come back tomorrow at four p.m., we’ll see.”
But with the way V’s face lit up, Johnny knew it was a done deal.