#as someone who clinically is incapable of standing without it making my heart race

[ourceliumnetwork]

where's that "there was someone wrong on the internet yesterday and i'm being so brave about it" post when I need it

[g0dspeeed]

Liar, Liar

For @constantzeigarnik

"V unabashedly flirting with Viktor, just laying it on real thick for the ripperdoc, and Viktor just not being prepared for it in the slightest."

“Liar, liar.”

The words came out in a tired sigh with a voice that hopefully sounded as indifferent as V intended.

The pair was laid out on the hood of Panam’s latest wheels, eyes closed, and cold drinks in hand. After helping the Aldecaldo get the ride from a locked storage yard, V had offered to relax beneath the shade of a highway overpass while they waited for the client to arrive. Panam accepted without a second thought. Between the two of them, a break from daily survival in Night City seemed in order.

Supposed to be chill.

Just two friends sippin’ on a dry afternoon.

No worries.

No stress for an hour.

That was before their present conversation, one that V was trying desperately to avoid.

“Yeah, I’m the liar here,” returned Panam. “And Night City is family friendly. At least I’m not the one in denial that my ripperdoc has the hots for me.”

V turned to shoot her friend a dark look. The nomad smirked as the warning fell flat. Despite V’s best efforts, Panam could see right through her: She was absolutely fuckin’ right.

“Think ya’ got it all wrong,” V maintained in a cool tone.

“Oh, do I?”

V cringed.

“Only met the guy one time,” Panam said. “Felt like a third wheel between the two of you eye-fuckin’ each other. Almost walked outta there see what that psychic girl was sellin’.”

A new warmth began stinging V’s cheeks and Panam frowned at her friend’s lack of response.

This was new territory. Seeing V react this way was beyond strange. One of the most capable people Panam had ever met was turning red over a man. Borderline bizarre. Truly, the entire conversation was out of the norm.

“Shit,” muttered Panam. At her best efforts at being soft, she added, “Don’t feel bad, V. The guy’s stacked like a fucking truck.”

At that, V finally let her guard down. She grinned as Panam gently shoved her shoulder.

“There she is. Just let that denial fade away-”

“Fuck off.”

“What the hell are you afraid of?” asked Panam. “Rejection?”

V looked at her energy drink, swiveling the liquid around before relenting.

“I mean, yeah, kinda.”

An eye roll and a heavy groan came from the woman beside her.

“Yeah okay,” said Panam. “Like he’d reject a woman half his age, much less a badass like you. V, I saw it for myself. The guy thinks you’re hot. Caught ‘im lookin’ at your ass. Not only that, he cares, like genuinely cares about you, which says a lot for people like us. Next time you see him, just lay it on thick and be done.”

V scrunched her eyes shut at her friend’s advice. Just talking about openly pursuing Viktor Vector made V’s stomach twist into knots. As much as she was the badass that Panam knew her to be, for V to explore an actual romantic relationship outside of ‘eye-fucking’ and the occasional one-night stand with some rando from Afterlife was not something V was familiar with. Her days were chaotic. Her lifestyle was that of constant motion. Viktor, in all his edginess, was stable, consistent, and secure. Also, she enjoyed the subtly they shared, the skirting around the topic of their flirty friendship, or whatever it was, from the safety of fleeting looks, suggestive undertones, and the occasional wink.

Then again, if V were honest with herself, it never seemed to be enough. V couldn’t deny that each time she left his clinic she wanted more. Craved more. More time, more privacy, more touch. She was her own worst enemy in all of those categories, always the first to shy away, to change the subject, to wander off.

“Worst case scenario,” breathed Panam. “He’s not interested in dating someone younger. Or just wants to be friends. That’s fine. Whatever. Should that happen, you delta outta there, lay low for a few weeks, find a new doc, and move on.”

“I can’t just delta out of his life,” groaned V. “He’s been my ripperdoc since I came to Night City. He’s also one of my closest friends-”

“Ok, then suffer. Fuck! Just do something. You’re killing me with this in between bullshit.”

Hours later, their conversation from under the overpass played on repeat inside V’s head. Panam cannot sugar coat anything. She might be physically incapable of doing that. Her words came straight from the heart and that’s what made what she had to say so sincere.

That is at least what V was telling herself as she steadily made her way down the steps to Viktor’s clinic, hands clammy, and body keyed up.

Part of her hoped that he was out or tied up with a patient. Maybe he would tell her to come by later.

She scoffed.

What a stupid thought. She was too quick to forget how often he invited her to stick around if he were operating, how she would wait at his workbench or nap on his crusty couch in the back. Sure enough, she could hear the man whistling below, the cheery sound echoing to where she hesitated. She swallowed.

With a final deep breath, V summoned up the bravery to walk through the metal gate.

Hunched over his operating chair, Viktor appeared to be wiping down between appointments, his rich voice humming along to some song in his head. V watched for a moment, taking in the serene sight before approaching the ripperdoc.

“Surprised you’re not watching a match,” she said.

The humming stopped. His head cocked at hearing her voice.

Without turning he responded, “Aren’t any on right now or you know I would be.”

The rag was tossed down and Viktor shifted to look at her.

V’s stomach flipped. His blue button-up was stained with a dark, oily substance all over the front. The top buttons were either missing or dangling from bits of string, leaving the shirt partly undone and exposing his undershirt. V’s eyebrows furrowed as she noticed a small crack that cut in the corner of his glasses just above a small nick on his cheekbone.

“You look-”

“Like shit?” he finished with a grin.

Viktor crossed his arms, drawing V’s attention to his thick biceps in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Bet so,” he continued. “Someone brought in his friend after a run in with the Tyger Claws, all blood clots and broke teeth. The gonk was scared out of his goddamn mind. Took a toll just to sedate ‘im.”

His smile had turned into a smirk, something confident and full of swagger as he told his story. He wore it well, mastering the balance found only in seasoned residents of Night City, of those who earned their street cred by way of blood, grit, and never backing down. V’s lips pursed at how his eyes looked to hers past those dark lenses.

Here would be the part where V ran away, ran from opportunity, from her feelings. He dared to look at her the way he did in that moment, so smooth, so confident. The man had to know. Viktor had to recognize how he affected her, had to notice how her eyes appreciated his physique, how her complexion warmed when he touched her. His frame had turned to face hers, all broad shoulders and aftershave.

She could step back.

Look away.

This was where she could coolly suppress her attraction and change the subject.

But not today.

“Here,” she said warmly.

V stepped close to the ripperdoc, shrinking the gap between their bodies as her fingers gently plucked the man’s glasses from his face. Viktor blinked in surprise and swallowed as she studied the damaged lens with a critical eye, her own smirk pulling at her full lips.

“Gonna need new ones, doc,” she told him.

Next, V carefully folded the glasses and slid them onto the collar of her top. Viktor’s eyes tracked her movements before quickly glancing away. Ever the gentleman.

“But don’t worry,” continued V. “The rest of you I can remedy.”

He chuckled.

“The rest of me?”

V looked up. She nearly gasped. For Viktor to wear those damn shaded glasses was a sin. The bluest blue that V had ever seen, his eyes were deep like ocean water. There was longing in them. Desire. He adored V for standing so close and showing such concern for his wellbeing. Christ, she could get lost in those eyes if he kept looking at her like that.

To answer his question, V tugged at the hem of his soiled shirt. He stiffened.

“Are you tryin’ to say that you like being covered in… whatever this is?” she mused.

“Well, no-”

In a near whisper, V begged, “Then come on, Vik. Let me play doctor for once.”

Fuck.

The way she was looking up at him with that smile, those bedroom eyes, leaning close like that with her fingers tugging on his shirt and talkin’ in that sweet, sexy voice.

Who was Viktor to deny her?

He sighed out a ‘Fine’ and nodded in agreement. Consent confirmed, V went to work. V’s fingers moved to undo the remaining buttons of his shirt, but Viktor stopped her hands. His own hands were warm, a little rough with scars and callouses on the tips and knuckles. In response to V’s questioning look, Viktor grabbed his shirt and ripped the buttons loose with a jerk. They pattered at their feet.

“Trash,” he stated as he slid his arms free from his shirt. Like the buttons, it went airborne and landed in a nearby biohazard bin.

“Hey now,” warned V with mock annoyance. “I said let me play doctor.”

“Oh am I being a bad patient?” returned Viktor.

To his surprise, V placed her palm at the center of his chest. Her fingers flexed gently against his undershirt, making Viktor’s heart race. She then gave a gentle shove.

“The worst,” she teased as Viktor let her push him back into his own operating chair.

Even if he wanted to, there was no way that Viktor could hide his smile. He was at a loss. What in the world had gotten into V? Not that he was complaining of course, but he was so used to waiting. The flirting, the winks, all those playful innuendos had been going on for such a long time. By now, Viktor simply accepted that she wouldn’t push it further, that their friendship or whatever they had, consisted of only those teasing moments. Nothing more. In the end he believed that V didn’t want anything deeper with the ripperdoc. And that was fine. A bummer, but fine. Didn’t feel bad about it. Didn’t resent her. She was younger, a wild one who made a hobby out of recklessly injuring herself doing God knows what in the city. The man wasn’t new to women or intimacy, and with a woman like V he thought it best to let her set the terms, especially considering that she was after all his patient. A patient who ate his food, slept on his couch, completely ignored his work schedule, and called him ‘pretty boy’ on the regular. A patient no less.

So imagine how fast his heart was racing as her fingers softly cupped his cheek, at how her body leaned in close as she inspected the small cut beneath his eye. Viktor tried his hardest to look off into nothingness rather than at her breasts. Tried to ignore how delicious she smelled. Was she wearing perfume-

“Breathe, Vik,” she mumbled. “Can’t have my first patient black out on me.”

She fucking winked and that goddamn smirk of hers graced her lips.

“I, uh,” he began. He laughed, a bit too nervously for his liking. “I’m sorry, just, just distracted. It doesn’t hurt that much, ya know.”

“How’d he get ya?” asked V.

To Viktor’s disappointment, V stepped away from the chair and walked towards his workbench. He didn’t miss how her hips swayed or how she bent over to grab his medical kit in a nearly exaggerated manner. The way she looked into his eyes while she straightened, all slow and sensual with those curves of hers, went immediately to his dick. He swallowed.

“Um,” he said stupidly. “He, uh, headbutted me. With his head.”

“Ouch,” she replied.

Before she returned to the flustered ripperdoc, V shimmied out of her bomber jacket and tossed it on his workbench. A tattered crop top pulled against her skin as she shook out her dark hair.

Viktor had the decency to rest his hands in his lap to shield the effect that the merc had on him.

Her tongue wet her lips as she fished through the kit for what she wanted. The glance she shot in his direction proved that there was no innocence in the act.

What the fuck was happening?

That question repeated itself over and over again in his mind as she again bent closely towards his body to apply a Q-tip to the wound, offering another delicious view of her ample breasts.

“Can I get some feedback, doc?” she asked quietly.

Viktor swallowed, his mouth dry like sand.

“Yeah, kid,” he replied lowly.

V paused her work to truly look at him, to gaze into those gorgeous eyes of his. Then, all calm and collected, V perched herself next to him at the edge of the operating chair. Viktor allowed her some room as she cupped his cheek with her other hand, her breasts resting on his torso as she leaned into him. Her thumb ghosted his skin, tempting. Teasing. Viktor ignored the urge to press against the throbbing hardness in his pants. The cut long forgotten, his attention was caught up in V’s eyes, the warmth of her skin, her smell, the sultriness of her voice.

“Do you want me?”

Her mouth was so close to his. The warmth of her breath tickled his skin like static. Viktor’s eyes shut in anticipation as V slowly drew herself to his lips.

He felt nothing, but heard the soft tear of paper. Viktor’s eyes fluttered open, brow crinkling in confusion. V had sat up and was unwrapping a small bandage, her eyes fixated on the task while he gaped at her. When it was open, she reached out and carefully applied the bandage to the cut on Viktor’s cheek.

“All done,” she stated in a chipper tone, a wide smile stretched from ear to ear.

Viktor smirked.

“Oh yeah?” he questioned. “Think you’re hot shit giving this old man a heart attack?”

“Think I gave you more than that, pretty boy.”

Her eyes flickered to his lap and back to those ocean eyes. Viktor sat up in the chair, his hands not budging as if his life depended on it.

“You never answered me,” said V, the playfulness gone from her voice and replaced with a feeling that Viktor found it hard to describe.

There was no mystery, however, to how he felt in hearing it. His heart melted at her words, at how the game was finally over and that she, beautiful V, wanted to know if he wanted her. A stupid question, really, but an important one all the same.

“Ah V,” he said with a sigh.

Panic alit her eyes like fire, but it was quickly doused as Viktor took her by the hand.

“Of course I do,” Viktor replied earnestly. He gave her hand a small squeeze. “I’d be a fuckin’ liar if I didn’t.”

For whatever reason, Viktor saw V blink as if there was something odd in what he said. The moment was short and quickly forgotten as V embraced him so hard that the pair fell back in his operating chair, his arm wrapped around waist and his lips pressed into her hair.