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    Thorn Wilde
    • Author
  • 3,202 Words

Cyberpunk 2077 in the property of CD Projekt Red. The characters and locations in this story are for the most part not mine.

Metanoia - 2. Black Dog

For real, I want V's packer. I wish it existed and was something I could have. Do I have penis envy? Fucking right, I do. Damn all you cis dudes...

I’ve never been especially shy about my body, and so it hasn’t bothered me much having Johnny around when I’m naked. Since he’s there all the time, I’d never get to shower otherwise and it’s his body too, kinda. I’m still struggling to wrap my head around it, define it, even after the weeks we’ve spent living this way, but I digress.

As much as I’m used to it, this is the first time he’s actively watched me. He stands in the doorway to the bathroom, openly staring as I attach my packer, clearly fascinated by the whole thing.

It’s made of silicone, the outside as skin-like as it’s possible to get without an actual skin-graft. It looks almost ’ganic, except I didn’t bother to get the model with balls. I didn’t get the thing so I could pass in the locker room, I just got it for sex. It slots into an implant located in my mons pubis, pretty much invisible if you don’t know it’s there. It’s self-adhesive, forming a kind of cup around my vulva and sheathing my biodick, so it’s kind of like an extension. It also connects to my urethra so I can piss through it. It’s completely painless.

Johnny, for all he’s insisted he’s not interested in cock, seems very interested in this one. ‘So that’s it? Now it just works, like a real dick?’

‘Yup. Just like a real dick. Even responds to touch, gets hard, and I can feel it.’

Johnny shakes his head. ‘That’s . . . I dunno if that’s amazing or fucked up.’

I snort. ‘People do weirder shit to their genitals than this, Johnny. Believe me. But I guess this tech’s a little more advanced than in your day.’

‘Ya don’t say. Pretty sure it was strap-on or surgery back then. Not that I’m an expert.’

Packer safely in place, I look at the time. It’s half past four. I wonder if it’ll seem desperate if I show up at Kerry’s doorstep at five on the dot.

‘It’ll seem totally desperate,’ Johnny says. ‘But that’s okay, ’cause one, you are fucking desperate, and two, so’s Kerry.’

I bite my lip, stare at my reflection. ‘How d’you know that?’

‘’Cause I know that look. Same way he looked at me for twenty years. Trust me, Kerry wants you to bend him over the back of the couch and fuck him till he screams.’

I try not to let that mental image get me too flustered and turn away from Johnny to put on my underwear, adjusting the packer as best I can. No matter how many times I do this, I can never quite get used to it. Then I pick out an outfit that’s sufficiently punk rock while at the same time easy to get out of. By the time that’s done, it’s a quarter to and, after making sure Nibbles has enough food and water to last until morning if need be, I leave the apartment and head down to the garage.

Traffic isn’t too bad. Seems I’ve timed this well, because I arrive in North Oak a little after five, parking my bike next to Kerry’s Rayfield. I didn’t text in advance; not like he didn’t know I was coming. Still, I’m nervous when I ring the doorbell.

Kerry opens the door and flashes me an easy smile. He’s dressed for home, in a white tank top and grey slacks. ‘Hey! Come on in.’ I want to kiss him. I want to grab him and push him up against the wall and claim his mouth for my own. But I don’t know if we’re at that stage yet, and before I can make up my mind, he turns on his heel and heads for the living room.

‘Pussy.’ I can’t see Johnny, but I hear his voice in my head. ‘I told you he wants you, so what’re you waiting for?’

‘Shut up, Johnny,’ I tell him. I watch Kerry’s ass, the swing of his hips, and follow him.

‘You want a drink?’ he asks over his shoulder. ‘What’s your poison?’

‘Whatever you’re havin’,’ I say, and I’m happy to find my voice sounds normal. I can do this. I can be cool. Shit, this was so much easier before we had sex . . . Why am I suddenly nervous? Oh yeah, maybe because I used to get off while listening to Kerry Eurodyne’s music when I was younger. Now I know what he sounds like when he comes, I like his voice even more.

‘Seriously?’ Johnny materialises alongside me. ‘You’d jerk off to Kerry’s singin’?’

I roll my eyes. ‘Fuck’s sake, Johnny . . . would you just go away for a little bit?’

‘I’ll go when you get to the fucking,’ he says dismissively. ‘You really got off to the sound of his voice?’

‘Used to get off to the sound of your voice too. My mom had some old Samurai records. Used to listen to Black Dog. That’s you in the first verse, right? And Kerry in the second?’

He stares at me in abject horror. ‘Now that’s just fucked up!’

‘Hey, you asked.’ I shrug.

Meanwhile, Kerry’s pouring us generous helpings of Scotch, and I give myself permission to ignore Johnny for a while. ‘Thanks,’ I say as Kerry hands me a tumbler.

He sits on the couch. ‘C’mere.’ He smiles up at me and I join him. ‘To you, V.’

Returning his smile, I take a drink. ‘Thank you. This is good.’ I look around the room. ‘Place doesn’t look quite as trashed as it did last time I was here.’

Kerry laughs, looking a little embarrassed. ‘Yeah, that was bad. Helluva first impression I musta given you.’

‘Nah, wasn’t so bad.’ I sip my Scotch. ‘So, what’d you do today?’

He makes a face. ‘Spent half the day on the phone with the record label. The other half tryin’ to nail down a contract with a new manager.’

‘Nothin’ from Kovachek?’

‘Not yet. Not like I told him I did it.’ He downs his drink and pours himself another. ‘What about you? Had any jobs today?’

‘Yeah, actually. Helped Blue Moon out with a stalker.’

‘No shit? Yeah, those suck.’

‘Had some psychofans in your time, I take it?’

‘Too fuckin’ many. Guess it comes with the whole fame thing, but I never got how people can get so . . . obsessed with someone they’ve never even met.’

‘Parasocial relationships,’ I say. ‘I mean, I kinda get it. Everyone fanboys over some artist or another at some point in their lives, right? But there’s a difference between bein’ a fan and, y’know, that. Man, that girl coulda really hurt Blue Moon.’

Kerry rests his elbow on the back of the couch, half turning toward me. ‘So, who’d you fanboy over?’

I glance at him with a half smile. ‘I’m lookin’ at ’im.’

He raises his eyebrows, a look of surprise flashing across his face. ‘Oh, so I’m really dealing with a groupie?’

I laugh. ‘Nah, man. That was a long time ago. I got over it. ’Sides, wasn’t really like that. Just liked your music’s all. But now I know you . . . it’s different.’

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ The Scotch has made me brave. I drain my glass and put it on the coffee table. Then I take his glass from him and put that away too, before leaning over and kissing him. I cup his bearded jaw, stroking his cheekbone with my thumb. His mouth is open, inviting, and when I slide my tongue in, he makes a small sound and pulls me closer, an arm around my neck.

He breaks the kiss and attacks my throat, then sucks on my earlobe again, the way he figured out I like last night. He whispers, ‘Bring your dick this time?’

I laugh. Then I take his hand and guide it down my stomach to the front of my jeans. We both gasp as he cups me, or more accurately my packer, through my pants. It’s responding to his touch, getting hard.

‘You can feel that?’ he asks.

‘Uh-huh.’ I bite my lip. ‘Yeah, it . . . feels really good.’

‘How long’s it been since you used this thing?’

‘Shit, I dunno . . . a year? Been single . . . for a while.’

Kerry unzips my jeans and pulls them down along with my purple boxers, revealing the packer. He wraps his fingers around it and strokes. ‘Feels almost like real skin. I was expecting something more like a strap-on, but this is . . . You really feel it? It feels like the real thing?’

‘Well, I got nothin’ to compare it to, but ostensibly, yeah. Ah . . .’ I laugh. ‘Actually, I guess I can find out now; can just ask Johnny.’ Kerry slows his movement at the mention of the name and I mentally slap myself. ‘Ah, sorry. Is . . . was that weird? That was weird. I shouldn’t’ve mentioned—’

Kerry cuts off my rambling. ‘No, it’s fine, V. I know he’s . . . in there.’

‘Let’s not talk about him,’ I say quickly. ‘Please. This . . . this is about us. About you and me. Right?’

Kerry smiles at me. ‘Yeah.’ He strokes me a little faster. ‘So . . . if I were to suck this thing . . . you’d feel that too?’

I nod. ‘Yeah.’

And without another word, Kerry lowers his head into my lap and swallows my silicone cock. I throw my head back with a hiss. This is a lot more intense than I remember. ‘Ah, fuck! Christ, Ker, that’s . . .’ Kerry Eurodyne, as it turns out, gives excellent head. I slide a hand into his hair, feeling the movement of his head. I tighten my fist experimentally, and Kerry groans. It sounds like a happy groan, so I do it again. ‘This okay?’ I manage.

‘Mhm,’ he says around my cock. He looks up at me through his lashes, and I can’t imagine a sexier sight than this; Kerry going down on me with my fist tangled in his hair. It’s almost enough to make me come, all on its own. Then he does something with his tongue before taking me in deep, swallowing me whole.

‘Fuck, I’m gonna come if you . . . shit, Ker, I’m . . .’ I lose the power of speech as I hit my peak. There’s no ejaculation, of course, but all the same, Kerry’s tongue gets to be a little too much and I pull my hips back, the packer slipping out of his mouth, still hard. ‘Fuck . . .’

Kerry wipes saliva off his chin and gives me a smile that borders on predatory. ‘That feel good?’

I nod. ‘So good.’ I take a few deep breaths, slowing my heart, and then I pull him to me and kiss him again. ‘So fucking good,’ I murmur against his lips. I reach down, touch him through his slacks, and he’s hard too. I pull down his pants, take him in my hand and stroke him while I look into his eyes. ‘What do you want?’

He closes his eyes for a moment, drawing a shaky breath. ‘Want you to fuck me, V.’

‘How do you want me?’

‘Don’t care . . . just need you in me.’

Need. Kerry needs me. I kiss him again, harder than before. Then I pull off his tank top and he gets out of his pants. I admire his lean body for a moment, just looking. ‘So hot,’ I murmur without thinking. It’s likely my imagination, but it almost seems like he’s blushing. Then I get naked too, and I pull him into my lap so I can kiss him and feel his skin against my own. ‘Got lube?’ I ask breathlessly.

‘Upstairs,’ he replies, and we both get off the couch and take the stairs two at a time to the bedroom.

We fall into bed, kissing and licking and biting, and Kerry passes me the lube that was on his nightstand. I don’t open it yet, though. First, I push Kerry down on his hands and knees and get behind him. I pull his ass cheeks apart, revealing his puckered, pink hole, and then I bury my face in it.

‘Fuck, V . . . Ah!’ The sound of his voice fills my ears. It breaks, just a little, as I stick my tongue inside him. ‘Oh, don’t stop! Shit . . . feels . . .’ He grunts, pushing back on my tongue.

I don’t do it for long. He’s enjoying it, but I can tell what he wants most of all is my cock inside him, and so I pick up the lube again, opening him up with my fingers. Doesn’t take much doing. He must have prepared. I rub some on my cock and get on my knees behind him. ‘You ready?’

‘So fucking ready!’ Kerry groans.

I push inside. It’s been a long time and the feeling is almost too much. I grasp his hip with one hand and his shoulder with the other as I start to move. I move slowly, experimenting a little so I’ll find . . .

‘Ah, yeah!’ he moans. ‘Fuck, yeah . . .’ Found it. ‘V . . . need it harder.’

That Kerry tops from the bottom surprises me not at all. He knows what he wants, and he tells me. He likes it a little rough, so I pound his ass, bite the back of his neck. I grab his wrists and pin them to the bed. I fucking worship his long back, his slim waist, his gorgeous ass. The tightness of him. This feeling of filling him builds inside me, shaking me to my core, and I come with sharp gasps and moans.

‘Ah, fuck, Kerry!’ My hips come to a halt for a moment as I struggle to breathe. ‘God, you’re perfect,’ I murmur in his ear.

He laughs softly under me. ‘Did you just come?’

‘Heh, yeah. Just gimme a sec and I can keep goin’.’

‘Mmm, then get on your back. I wanna ride you.’

I do as he says and he climbs on top of me. I push back, thrusting into him. He’s looking down at my face, his eyes locked to mine. In the end, I sit up, hold him tightly and kiss him.

‘Ah, V . . .’ He sounds wrecked. I’m doing this to him, I realise. I’m making him hot and breathless, reducing him to moans and shivers.

‘What do you need?’ I whisper.

‘You,’ is all he says. With a growl, I roll us over, so he’s on his back, and I fuck him while staring into his eyes. The room is filled with the heady scent of sex and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. His hands grip my arms, and he throws his head back, shuts his eyes. ‘Please, V . . . I need . . . I need to come!’

I take his cock in my hand. ‘Kerry. Look at me.’ He opens his eyes. They’re nearly black, his pupils are blown so wide. ‘That’s it,’ I murmur, stroking him. ‘Come for me.’ I pump his cock in time with my thrusts, and when he finally comes with a shout, it’s with such tremendous force the semen hits his clavicle as well as my chest. As his body contracts around me, I come too, my forehead pressed to his shoulder.

Kerry puts his arms around me, fingers lazily stroking my back and shoulders. I raise my head, look into his eyes, and kiss him. ‘Fucking beautiful,’ I whisper against his lips.

He laughs, turning his face away. ‘My ego’s inflated enough as it is, V,’ he jokes.

‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘You need to hear this, ’cause I know you don’t believe it. You’re beautiful. You have no idea how much I want you. How much I need you. I see you, Kerry. You. Not the celebrity, not the rockerboy. But you. And this, whatever it is between us . . . I’m so glad I get to share it with you.’

Kerry pulls me into a kiss. It’s hot and wet and desperate. I think he’s sparing himself from having to answer right away. Then he holds me tightly in his arms. ‘I don’t know what it is you see in me, V. And I don’t know how real it is, but . . . thank you. For what it’s worth, I’m glad this is happening.’ He kisses my cheek. ‘Now, c’mon. We need a shower, and mine’s fucking huge. Plenty of room for us both.’

While I lather shampoo into his hair, he says, ‘You know, part of me worried your packer would turn out to be some kinda monster cock. I know a lot of people think the bigger the better, and when you get to choose your own . . . I mean, it’s true to an extent, but as much as I love having my ass wrecked, I really don’t wanna be split in two.’

I laugh, kissing his shoulder. It tastes like shampoo. I don’t give a fuck. ‘I didn’t want somethin’ massive,’ I tell him. ‘Didn’t want a Mr. Stud either. I just wanted it to feel . . . natural, I guess.’

‘Felt pretty natural to me,’ he says. He turns around, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, and presses his lips to mine. Then he laughs. ‘You ask Johnny yet? About whether it feels like the real thing on your end too?’

I laugh too. ‘Not yet. I’ll ask him later.’

‘Well,’ says Kerry, stepping out from under the shower stream, ‘I’m starving, so I’m gonna order some food. You like Thai?’

‘Sure, I’m an omnivore.’

‘Good.’ He steps out of the shower, grabs a towel, and leaves the bathroom.

I finish rinsing off before I turn off the water and start drying myself off. Looking into the mirror, I see Johnny over my shoulder. ‘He returns,’ I say. ‘Real curious now; did it feel like the real thing?’

Johnny rubs the back of his neck, looking thoughtful. ‘Except the part where you came and then just kept going like some kinda fucking machine . . . yeah.’ He shakes his head. ‘Starting to think I may have missed out. But don’t tell him I said that.’

‘Oh, trust me, I won’t. He’s had enough trouble gettin’ over you.’ I turn to face him, mirroring his folded arms. ‘How weird is this for you? I mean, really. Just want the truth.’

‘The truth? It’s really fuckin’ weird. But it’d be weird no matter who it was. Thank fuck that cop you were thirsting after shot you down. Might not have been able to forgive you if you made me fuck a cop.’

I flip Johnny the bird and wrap the towel around my waist. Of course, I’m glad River turned me down too. I’d much rather be with Kerry, after all.

A handful of Samurai songs were recorded for the game, by a Swedish hardcore band called Refused. According to canon, Johnny was supposedly the lead vocalist of the band, though both he and Kerry sang. Thing is, Refused's vocalist sounds nothing like Keanu Reeves. Especially his high range; there is no fucking way Keanu Reeves could ever sing like that. So, I made my own headcanon, because the guy who has Kerry's voice probably could, or at least more likely could. Lower register clean vox are Johnny, higher register clean vox are Kerry, and the screaming's also probably mostly Kerry.

This is the song V talked about in this chapter:

Copyright © 2021 Thorn Wilde; All Rights Reserved.

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