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Here’s the thing.
Vang0 is an insufferable person. This is just factually true. He’s smart and he acts like his intelligence makes him better than 90% of the rest of the world’s population, but paradoxically, he’s also ridiculously insecure about anything else that isn’t his mind. This includes his appearance, his reputation, his skills, and now, of all things, his virginity. Yep. The latest thing he’s decided to think himself into circles about is the fact that, because he lost all of his memories from before the age of 22, he doesn’t know if he’s been fucked or not.
This is something that bothers him immensely. This is something Dasha knows because Vang0 won’t stop talking to her about it.
“Why?” Dasha pleads at the beef stir fry she’s got on the stove. “Why are you still talking to me about this?”
“Well,” Vang0 says from where he’s seated at the dining table. In her kitchen. In her apartment. A place he does not live in, but has decided to grace his presence with, unannounced. “I can’t talk about it to Burger. That’s embarrassing.”
“And it’s not embarrassing to talk about it to me?”
“No, because you lost all respect for me, like, two days after we met.”
“Fair enough,” Dasha hums.
“May I continue?”
“No.”
“Okay, so,” Vang0 continues, “I’ve decided to call it Schrödinger's virginity.”
“Of course you have.”
“Because thanks to my amnesia, I both arguably am and am not a virgin at the same time. I wouldn’t know. Epistemologically, I have no way of knowing.”
“You know, using big words makes you more annoying, not less.”
“But,” Vang0 ignores her, “the solution here isn’t to open the box and see if the hypothetical cat is alive or not, because the box is gone. Poof. Nada.” Vang0 makes a little exploding motion with his hands. “The most simple solution is to act as if I hadn’t yet, because I can’t be unfucked, but I can be fuckedfucked.”
“Why does this matter so much to you?” Dasha turns to him, genuinely baffled. “I’ve told you time and time again that the concept of virginity doesn’t even exist. It’s a social construct.”
Vang0 crosses his arms. “It’s a social construct that matters to me.”
Dasha could strangle him. “It shouldn’t!”
“Well it does!” Vang0 says, defensive and a little louder.
A beat of silence punctuated only by the sizzling of beef stir fry.
“Whatever,” Vang0 says, acting cool in a way that Dasha can see right through. He stands, grabbing his jacket from the table. “I’m going out.”
“Where?”
Vang0 slips his jacket on. “Gonna find somebody who’ll fuck me so that this whole thing can get out of my head once and for all.”
Dasha’s eyebrows go up. She says, “Please don’t tell me you’re going to be running around tonight looking for a stranger to fuck you.” Vang0’s an adult, he can do whatever he wants and he can take care of himself, but Dasha is still protective of him, sue her. He’s her friend.
“It’s the perfect plan,” Vang0 shrugs, but Dasha can see the anxiety on his face.
“This is Night City. People here are douchebags at the very least,” Dasha says. “You need somebody you can trust. Why not ask a friend?”
“Dasha,” Vang0 deadpans. “You and Burger are my only friends. I can’t ask Burger because—” he trails off, looking at the floor.
Right, he can’t ask Burger because Vang0 has a crush on Burger so huge that it can be seen from space.
“—and,” Vang0 continues, “I can't ask you because. You’re. Well. Y’know.”
“I’m what?” Dasha challenges.
Vang0 gestures vaguely at all of her. “You’re you. You would never fuck me.”
Now that makes Dasha laugh softly. “You know, for how smart you are, you can be an idiot sometimes.”
“What?” Vang0 says, but in his gaze, Dasha can see a little flicker of hope. “What does that mean?”
“That means,” Dasha points her spatula at him. “Take off your jacket, stay for dinner, then get in the bedroom. You wanna get fucked? I’m down.”
“Holy shit,” Vang0 says, disbelief in his voice. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, you insecure piece of shit, I am,” Dasha rolls her eyes. “You game?”
“Hell fucking yes, I’m game.” Vang0 very quickly takes his jacket off and lays it on the table again.
“Good,” Dasha smiles. “Now sit down and wait until I finish this stir fry. Don’t act like you weren’t here in the first place to mooch off of my food.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Vang0 grins.
Ma’am, huh? Dasha likes the sound of that.
-
Here’s the thing.
Dasha is attracted to Vang0. He’s her type, through and through. Small, roguish, bratty, and needs a good fucking to shut the hell up. Vang0 is her friend, and while she doesn’t have any romantic feelings for him, she won’t lie: getting Vang0 into her bed for some fun is a thought that’s crossed her mind a few times.
They get through dinner without incident, incongruously talking about mundane things like video games and movies. When they’re done, Vang0 insists on doing the dishes, a rare politeness coming out from him now that Dasha’s agreed to make him not a virgin, so Dasha goes to her room and grabs her things.
She lays a bottle of lube, some condoms, and her strap-on on her bed. She knows that there are more high tech sex toys out there; dildos that can change length and girth, cocks that can vibrate with mind numbing intensities, but Dasha is a bit old school, when it comes to sex. Her strap-on is a simple red cock of reasonable length. No tech, just good, firm silicone.
She hears the door creak open and sees Vang0 at the doorway, staring at her and the things laid out on her bed with wide eyes. Nervous eyes. Excited eyes. The two emotions seem to be warring in his gaze.
“I’ve never done this before,” Vang0 blurts. “Or I have, but I can’t remember, so I don’t—I don’t know how—I—”
“It’s fine.” Dasha says cooly, walking over to him and shutting the door behind him. She lays a hand on Vang0’s face. “You okay with me taking the lead?”
A spark in his gaze. Past the nervous, a spark of his usual bite. He says. “Don’t you always?”
Dasha rolls her eyes. Good to know Vang0 will still be a brat in bed. She likes it better that way.
“I’m going to kiss you now.” Dasha places her other hand on Vang0’s hip. “That okay?”
“Please,” Vang0 says softly.
So Dasha kisses him.
In all the talk about Vang0’s Schrödinger's virginity, Dasha never actually heard anything from him concerning whether or not he’s kissed somebody before. He seems like he hasn’t, Dasha thinks as his body stiffens up, as his hands freeze in the air around her body, as his lips stay unmoving.
That’s fine by her, Dasha likes doing the work. She presses her lips against his as she brings her hands down to lead Vang0’s hands to rest on her waist before taking hold of him again. Once Vang0 is holding on, hands gentle and cautious on her body, Dasha decides to see how Vang0 reacts to some pushing.
Dasha presses him against the door and sucks at his bottom lip. The reaction is positive; Vang0 gasps a breathy, surprised little sound. She can’t tell if it’s from the handling or the kiss, but it seems pleased, so she lets her tongue slip past the seam of his mouth and deepens the kiss.
Vang0 is a fast learner, and he learns how to kiss back. How to move his lips against Dasha’s, how to slide his tongue against hers. His hands start to roam, and, oh, that’s lovely. His hands go up her back, pausing to thread through her hair, then the slide down, down—
Vang0 pulls back an inch, breathing heavily, flushed in the face, already looking a little bit wrecked. He asks, “Can I—”
“I’d rather you keep your hands above the belt, actually.” Dasha says as she starts to pepper kisses down his jaw. She drags her tongue against his neck and drinks in the wonderful sound he makes at that. “I like giving, not receiving. You?”
“Touch me anywhere,” Vang0 says. “Please.”
She grins against his neck and slides one hand down to Vang0’s ass to give that perky little thing a good squeeze. Vang0 squeaks, bucking his hips up into Dasha’s thigh and, hello, we’re in business. Dasha grinds her thigh into Vang0’s crotch, into where his skinny jeans are tented.
“Fuck,” Vang0 thunks his head against the door. “Oh, god.”
“Feel good?” Dasha asks, revelling in how she has Vang0 grinding against her leg.
“Yes. Fuck, yes.”
“Good,” Dasha presses a quick kiss to his lips again. “Ready to move this to the bed?”
“I’ve been ready for the past week, oh my god.”
Dasha’s answer to that is to kiss him deeply again, maneuvering his body and walking them to her bed where—once the back of Vang0’s knees hit the edge of the mattress—he falls onto the sheets.
Vang0 props himself up on his elbows, watching with a little bit of awe in his eyes as Dasha takes off her shirt and kicks off her sweatpants, clad only in a sports bra and panties.
“Oh, wow.” Vang0 blinks, blushing redder in the face. “Wow. Uh.”
Dasha crawls on top of Vang0, her hands at the hem of his shirt. “Your turn.”
“Right, right, yeah,” He pulls his shirt off, and it messes his hair up adorably along the way, before throwing his shirt off to the side to worry about later, showing off his skinny but lean body.
Then Vang0 does something Dasha should have expected from the beginning.
He looks away.
Vang0’s face is flushed, but now it’s not so much because he’s turned on. Dasha’s a good enough fixer to know what shame looks like, and if she doesn’t do something now, Vang0 might just drown in it.
“Hey,” Dasha places her fingers under his chin, tilting his face to look at her. “None of that. Sex is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to feel good. Physically and emotionally.”
“Easy for you to say,” Vang0 barks out a self-deprecating laugh. “You’re beautiful.”
“Wel, I think—” Dasha runs her hands down Vang0’s bare chest, feeling him inhale sharply as she touches him. His heart is beating fast, she feels it when she presses on his chest and lays an open mouthed kiss to his pulse point. A rapid beat, a mix of anticipation and anxiety. “—that you look gorgeous.”
“You don’t have to lie to me,” Vang0 says, voice small and fragile.
Dasha thumbs his nipple and Vang0 gasps. “I’m not lying. You look good.” She lowers her hand to palm his erection through his jeans, and Vang0 moans, shame momentarily forgotten with the feeling of pleasure. She growls into his ear, “You look fuckable.”
“Please,” Vang0 gasps.
He keeps saying that. Dasha is discovering that she wants to hear him say it over and over and over again. She says, “Please what?”
“Fuck me,” Vang0 says, gaze wanting.
“Time to get these off then,” Dasha pulls at his waistband, and Vang0 nods very, very quickly.
Dasha helps him pull his jeans off, because when Vang0 isn’t wearing neon colored short shorts, he’s wearing skinny jeans that may as well be painted on. Once they’re off, Vang0 only hesitates for a second before shimmying his boxer briefs off and then falling back onto the bed, completely naked.
Dasha has a feeling that if she sits back to look at Vang0, to take in the sight of him, it’ll only make Vang0’s insecurity pop up again, and she wants Vang0 to have fun. She wants Vang0 to feel good. She wants Vang0 to make those delicious little noises that are music to Dasha’s ears.
She takes his cock in her hand—he’s already leaking at the tip with precome—and gives him a few good strokes.
“Fuck,” Vang0 shudders, face screwed up in pleasure as he moans and bucks his hips up. “Dasha.”
She grins, stroking him a few more times before sitting up on her knees and grabbing the lube. “Spread your legs, Vang0.”
Vang0 does as she asks—so obedient, when in bed, jesus, they should have done this ages ago—as Dasha rolls a condom onto her finger then pours a hefty amount of lube into her hand. She doesn’t want to hurt Vang0. She wants this to be nice for him, she thinks as she circles her now lubed finger against Vang0’s hole.
“Still good?” Dasha places a hand on Vang0’s knee, squeezing it as she checks in.
“So fucking good,” Vang0 says. Then he adds, “Would be better if you’d work faster, though.”
Dasha raises an eyebrow at that and decides to respond by sinking her finger into Vang0 on one smooth push. She thrusts her finger in and out, listening to Vang0’s breathy noises before adding another finger, which makes Vang0 bite his lip and throw his head to the side. She slides her fingers in and out a few times before she thinks it’s high time she really makes Vang0 scream.
She crooks her fingers up, searching, and—
“Oh, fucking christ!” Vang0 moans, arching his back, and Dasha has to look up. Boy, is it one hell of a view. Vang0, hands clutching at the sheets, mouth open in pleasure, cock red and leaking. Dasha hits his prostate again, just to see him writhe, just to hear his sweet sounds. “Dasha, Dash, fucking hell, keep doing that, and I won’t last.”
“Noted,” Dasha laughs as she adds another finger, sliding them in and out while avoiding his sweet spot. “Wouldn’t want you to finish before I’ve even started.”
“Ngh,” Vang0 says eloquently.
It doesn’t take long for Vang0 to get impatient, which is really saying something about his personality that he still has the drive to be bossy and rude while getting thoroughly fingered. Dasha ignores his increasingly desperate pleas, determined to stretch him enough, but she finally gives in when Vang0 says, “Come on, come on, just fuck me already.” He looks up at Dasha, mouth quirking up a little bit. “Please?”
Smart little shit, figuring out what gets Dasha going. Dasha wants to fuck him so hard he won’t be able to do anything but beg.
“Alright, alright.” Dasha pulls her fingers out, tossing the used condom in the vague direction of her trashcan before grabbing the strapon and slipping on the harness.
Vang0 watches her the entire time, eyes darting from Dasha’s bright red cock to Dasha’s face. All his anxiety is gone, replaced instead by heavy, delicious desire as he looks on while Dasha lubes up her cock.
She situates herself between his spread legs, holding her cock against the pucker of Vang0’s hole.
“Ready?” Dasha asks, stroking up and down his thigh.
“Yes,” Vang0 nods. “Please, Dasha.”
How can she say no?
She goes slow. She pushes in, slides out a little bit, and savors each and every one of Vang0’s whimpers as the head of her cock catches on the rim of his hole. Push and pull until finally, her whole length is sheathed into Vang0. Dasha looks up, eyes raking over Vang0’s flushed body, over Vang0’s face slack with pleasure.
“How does it feel, Vang0?” Dasha thrusts in and out shallowly.
“Good,” Vang0 breathes out, sounding blissed out just from being full. All seems to be going well, so Dasha decides to put a little more oomph into her next thrust. “Oh, fuck yes, feels really—ah!—good. You can go harder.”
Dasha frowns. This may or may not be his first time and he wants it harder? “You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Vang0 whines, bratty and bossy and completely Vang0 Bang0. “I won’t break, Dasha.”
There’s really only one response for that kind of attitude.
Dasha grabs one of Vang0’s legs, hiking it up over her hip, adjusts her angle to hit that spot inside him that makes him go crazy, and drives forward. Hard.
Vang0’s reaction is fucking beautiful. Back arching, toes curling, mouth hanging open around a sinful moan. Dasha fucks him like that, with steady, hard thrusts at a pace slow enough that Vang0 can still get a breath but fast enough that Vang0’s body shakes with it. He’s loud, fantastically so, moaning as if the world outside this room has melted away, as if the only thing that matters is the feeling of Dasha’s cock buried in his hole, as if this is exactly what he asked for, and then some.
Here’s the thing.
Dasha doesn’t like receiving sexual attention, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still feel pleasure. Watching Vang0 come apart, being the one to take him apart, being trusted with taking away his Schrödinger's virginity, it’s, well. It’s one hell of a power rush. That rush travels down her spine in a shiver, fills up her gut with a pool of heat that simmers, that makes her fuck Vang0 harder.
Vang0 is starting to writhe and meet Dasha’s thrusts. He fucks himself back on her cock every time she bucks her hips forward, and she knows he’s close.
She grabs his cock, jacking him nice and fast while not letting up the speed or power of her thrusts.
“Dasha, Dasha, Dasha.” Vang0 says her name as if it’s a litany, the only thing to hold onto in his world of pure sensation. “I’m—I’m gonna—”
“Go on.” Dasha purrs, driving her cock deep and grinding it against his prostrate, stroking his cock and drinking in his moans. “Be a good boy for me. Come.”
Vang0’s body goes taut like a pulled string as he comes, hands clutching desperately at the sheets, face slack around a choked moan as his come paints his navel. Dasha fucks him through it with slow thrusts, milks him dry, and then, finally, stops.
The room is silent, save for the both of their heavy breaths. Vang0 lies in front of her, limbs strewn about, body flushed, eyes closed, covered in his own come.
He looks fucked out.
He looks amazing.
Dasha pulls her cock out as carefully as she can, mumbling a soft apology when Vang0 winces a bit. She removes the harness and sets it aside for tomorrow to clean before grabbing some tissues from her nightstand to wipe Vang0’s come off of him. It’s a testament to how hard Vang0 is riding the afterglow that he doesn’t even have it in himself to bitch about not having to be taken care of.
That’s good. Right now, all Dasha wants to do is take care of him.
Dasha finds her shirt on the floor and puts it back on, leaving her sweats off, then crawling next to Vang0 in bed. When she settles beside him, Vang0 opens his eyes.
There’s a lot in his gaze. Anxiety, gratitude, insecurity. Dasha’s fucked enough people to know that the moment after sex can be overwhelming. The aftermath of vulnerability. Vang0 is her friend, and she wants this whole experience to be good for him. All of it. The sex, and the after.
Dasha turns to him. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” Vang0 says to the ceiling before turning to face Dasha, a triumphant grin on his face. “You fucked my brains out. I am over the goddamn moon.”
Dasha laughs, settling into the pillows. “I’m really glad you liked it.”
Vang0 goes quiet for a moment, eyes darting away as Dasha can see clear as day his insecurity bubbling up once more. He says, “Did you like it? I know you didn’t want me to return the favor, but like—”
“I loved it,” Dasha lets herself smile. Lets herself lay a hand on Vang0’s shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. “I loved fucking you until you forgot words, I loved how loud you are, I loved taking care of you.”
“That’s good,” Vang0 smiles a bit. Then, he starts to shift, as if he’s about to get up.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Dasha raises a quizzical eyebrow.
“Uh,” Vang0 says. “Out of your apartment? It’s over, so—”
“I loved taking care of you,” Dasha says. “And cuddles for the night after sex is part of taking care of you.”
Vang0 flops back onto the bed, grinning at Dasha. “Badass Dapper Dasha wants to cuddle?”
She rolls her eyes. “Badass Dapper Dasha does indeed want to cuddle.”
“Hell fucking yeah,” Vang0 says, snuggling up into her space like the hedonist he is.
-
Here’s the thing.
Dasha knows that Vang0 holds so much uncertainty about who he is and who he’s supposed to be. He gets caught up with expectations and reputations and images so much to the point that he gets lost. He uses that big brain of his to think himself into circles he can’t get out of. Circles he needs help to escape.
Dasha is a leader and a problem solver. She likes the feeling of being the solution. She likes being the one to take care of things.
Dasha can’t help fix all of Vang0’s problems, but she could help with this one. She’s glad she did. Because Vang0 is her friend, and there isn’t much she wouldn’t do for him.
Including, she thinks, pegging him so hard he’s walking funny the next morning.
Dasha smirks into her cup of coffee, watching Vang0 scuttle around her apartment with a little hitch in his step. Vang0 catches her gaze and smirks back at her.
Yeah, she’s glad they did this. And she knows that he’s glad too.