While The Storm Passes - June 2026 Exclusive (Patreon)

"Would ya look at that."

Damien watched from his station, his hands carefully working over a glass, as lightning flashed outside. A low rumble of thunder echoed over Night City, muffled by the refined interior of the Silver Fox bar, as the soft pitter patter of rain began to build.

"Guess the weather was wrong, sir. Should be a rough one comin' in." He added, his deep voice carrying through the quieter space towards the older, rotund man standing beside him.

"Just a storm?" The man asked.

"No, Hurricane." Damien answered, "Was reported earlier this week but we all thought it'd be just the edge."

"Ahh, uffa." The man grumbled, scratching his stubble, as he mulled over his options.

He could stay open, simply hope the hurricane would be short lived, at worst they'd be sleeping in the safe room. But he didn't want to send anyone out into that storm nor did he wish to keep them around and risk a robbery - or worse.

"Just shut it down, pack it up. I'll shoot Steph a message, let 'em know." Elio waved his hand, moving behind Damien as he waddled over towards the backroom.

"Y'sure sir?"

"Mhm. Just keep yourself safe 'till it passes. See you back here once that's done." With a turn of a handle, Don Elio descended the stairs down into the basement, locking the door behind him.

Damien sighed, his long black locks of hair rolling down his neck as he moved, quietly ushering out whoever was left. It was a slow night and a quiet one at that, all he could think about now was returning to his comfortable bed back home. He moved with the precision and grace of a machine, carefully placing glasses back where they belonged, then wiping down the counter tops before turning off the ice machine. The closing up routine as he always did for a couple years now. So focused on his work that he didn't even hear the quiet tapping of heels across the floor.

"Of all nights to close early, it's always the ones where I've got new material to run." A feminine voice bemoaned.

Damien turned his head towards the bar to find Steph. The blonde hair, the tan skin, all wrapped in a navy dress with glowing amber accents that made him pop among the cool interior of the dive. He took a seat on the nearest bar-stool, his weight making the cushion quietly creak as he rested his head upon his hand.

"Sorry to hear, choom." Damien politely stated, turning his attention away from his co-worker, who just started leaning against the bar he just cleaned.

"It's fine. I can save it for another day." Steph grumbled, waiting for a reply that never came, before opening an eye to see if Damien was still there.

"Can't ya whip me up something quick before you close down?" Steph asked.

Damien shook his head, "I'd rather not have any more work to do than I already have. Besides, knowing you, you'd be taking your sweet time drinking it and making *me** late. I'm trying to get home before the storm hits."

"It's not my fault that I like talkin' with you, hun." Steph hummed, leaning a bit closer into the bar. Damien remained quiet, his focus purely on just closing up for the night and making sure his area would be cleaned.

Steph, meanwhile, simply admired the figure in front of him. The physique, the way he carried himself, it was like some statue from the plaza was brought to life. It was rather hard for him *not* to have some interest in his co-worker. Damien could feel the gaze, the added weight it gave him as he moved, though trying to ignore it was just growing tiring.

"So got any plans for the few days you're probably gonna get off? Anyone at home waiting for ya?" Steph inquired.

"No, I live alone."

"So what I'm hearing is… You're in need of some company~?" Steph asked warmly, batting his eyelashes at the larger man, despite Damien's back being turned to face him.

"Ah, no. Think I'll use that time I have to do some reading or something."

Steph blinked, taking in that information and processing it, "Didn't know you were a reader."

"You don't know a lot of things about me, Steph."

"I know you can get pretty lonely. I mean, I know I do, so I wouldn't miiiind some company during this whole ordeal."

"I'm not interested in having someone stay over. Personally, I like having some space to myself."

Steph pouted, his golden lipstick gently shining against the dim light, "You could at least have some company for the ride home."

Damien paused briefly, his hand moving to set a rag into a bin, still not facing Steph. "I have my radio. It's fine enough for me. If I really need it, I call my parents to check-in and let 'em know I'm okay."

Steph audibly huffed, quickly pivoting into a bored production of lip bubbles, his glove's fingers tapping against the bar top. His body turned slowly, looking out onto the empty bar, before looking back over to Damien hoping he'd caught him looking. But no, it was just them. Alone in the bar. With a building volume of rain hitting the roof. "C'mon, handsome, I don't bite~!"

"I'm not gay, Steph."

Silence returned to the space, the singer's eyes studying Damien for faults, prying deeply at him while he wrapped up his side of work. The rain above filled the empty air as Steph's smile fell. He watched the bartender closely, seeing how the uniform fit on his muscular form, watching the way his eyes never met his own. If only the space between them, for Steph, was just the counter then it wouldn't be so bad. "I- I understand."

"Thank you."

The words were brief and bitter, like warm scotch without a chaser. It hung in the air, dancing like the alcohol did upon the tongue and back of the throat, an itching sensation that was hard to remove without levity. Levity that the two weren't exactly skilled at utilizing.

Steph had an interest in the bartender for some time, ever since he began working at the bar. He was just his type too. Good looking, a body that looked chiseled from stone, a voice as smooth as a latte and wearing cologne that danced across his senses with such ease. But how could he get time to get to know him? It was tricky. He preferred keeping his work life and private life apart, all his advances were seemingly ignored and he knew now why that was the case.

"Well, um… if it's not a lot to ask, would you be able to drive me home, Damien?" Steph asked cautiously, hoping for at least a level of comfortable closure before they parted ways again.

Damien stepped aside from the bar, investigating his work, while the question hung in the air. Finally, with a soft sigh, he answered. "…How far do you live from here?"

"Only five minutes south."

Damien paused, contemplating his options. He could let this awkward situation continue, to extend in his car and linger with him as he got home. He could let Steph sit here alone, waiting for a hired ride, if there even would be a taxi to take him back. He glanced to Steph, letting his eyes look him once over. He knew the answer to give, it wasn't difficult to find given the circumstances. "Alright."

It only took another minute before Damien was done with locking up the bar, leading Steph quietly through the dive towards the front door, opening it up and allowing the shorter man to step out into the chilling air. He guided him to his car, a black Quandra Thunder-X, popping open the door for him as he got in on the other side.

Once the door shut, the rain pouring down on the windshield, Damien got the car started. The heat kicked on almost immediately, the radio tuned to 91.9 Royal Blue, as the awkward tension once more entered. Steph sent the address quietly, his eyes shifting between the wet neon of Night City and the man beside him. It would be a brief drive, yet he knew it'd feel like five hours rather than five minutes .

You should say something. Steph thought, his eyes drifting towards Damien, resting on him as they had done moments before. You're all alone with him, for once, and you're not saying anything. Sure, he rejected you, but you don't have to be strangers.

"So um…" Steph began nervously, a rare filler word slipping in, "when'd you get this…?"

"Recently. Felt I needed an upgrade after what happened to my old ride."

"It's nice. Suits you."

Steph shifted awkwardly in his seat, that pit in his stomach since the rejection having only grown with the proximity he had to Damien. He could smell that cologne, the dance of processed mint continuously hitting his nose, it was teasing him. Mocking him for failure. He could comment on it, say it smells nice. But by now it'd only be read as more flirting.

He's never this quiet. Damien thought, his gaze shifting to Steph briefly at a red light, I probably could've saved his feelings by being less blunt.

The rain only amplified, the wind picking up a bit as they got closer but the silence within that car remained. It lingered all the way to the parking complex, where it continued to go and climb with each level the car did, before eventually coming to a stop in a empty spot.

"Thanks for the ride." Steph began, moving to open his door.

"Hey, uh, Steph…" Damien began, his voice wavering briefly, catching Steph's attention, "I'm… sorry if I was a bit too blunt back there. I'm not the best with… relationships or sugar coating things."

Steph's eyes widened subtly, the shadows of the interior of the car hiding the small movement. "Well, frankly, I'd rather someone be honest than spare my feelings." Steph replied, his eyes darting around Damien's face, looking for something to give him more information, "It's why I trust you."

Steph was good at reading people, there was a reason he was the middle man and messenger, he made sure that Elio only worked with those he could trust. The small movements in the eyes, nervous ticks, he was looking for something to either tell him that Damien was lying or was wanting to say more.

"I know, I just… Could've at least let you down better."

"Trust me, I know you wouldn't have said worse."

"What is worse to you?"

"Calling me a faggot and tellin' me to go zero myself."

Damien paused briefly, something was at the tip of his tongue but couldn't quite articulate what it was, just a soft hum beginning to build as his thoughts re-calibrated in his head. "Have people done that to you?"

"No, but I've heard enough stories to know it's a possibility. Not that you would've said it, just- still. Ugh, sorry. Sorry for making things awkward."

"I-It's fine, I probably could've told you sooner and saved you all the headache."

"It wouldn't have changed much." Steph mumbled, opening the door, as he stepped out of the car and onto the concrete only to find Damien had joined him. "You're gonna walk me to my door?"

"If that's alright with you, I'd prefer to know you got home safe."

Steph was taken aback by this for a second, once more he tried to find a fault in Damien's body language, yet once more there was nothing to read on Damien beyond honesty. A smile grew on Steph's face, a hand moving to his hip. "Such a gentleman."

Damien locked his car and walked with Steph, his hands always visibly out of his pockets, as he moved beside the dolled up co-worker. For Damien, it was a bit of closure and security for himself to sleep tonight. Knowing he at least tried to amend, what he saw as slightly rude, words tonight.

For Steph, it was different. It was yet another reminder of just how close he got, of the countless hours of chatting up Damien at work, of smelling that cologne while listening to that voice he loved so much. It felt… demeaning.

Eventually, Steph was brought to his apartment. It was brief goodbye as Steph went inside to slip into something more comfortable. Damien lingered outside for a moment longer, wanting to say more and confirm that feelings weren't bruised. He felt like knocking, for just one final confirmation but his hand just hovered there.

He sighed, letting his hand fall to his side, as he turned and began to leave. The rain only seemed to grow heavier by the second. By the time he got to his car, the wind was so fast that it whipped within the concrete structure with enough force to cause him to stumble.

"Shit." Damien muttered under his breath, quickly catching the side of someone's car for support before pushing himself off and back to his feet.

"Of fuckin' course the storm would be hittin' as soon as I get ready to leave." Damien growled, a loud clap of thunder answering him within seconds.

I could risk it. Drive home. Head north. Damien contemplated, quickly stepping back inside, as the wind once more throttled him and caused him to stumble again. No. It's already risky enough with the god awful drivers going around right now. I'll just have… to suck it up.

Begrudgingly, Damien began to stride back into the apartment complex. His feet carrying him with a weighted step of a man still desiring to just go to his own bed. And yet, here he was, back in front of Steph's door. His hand hovered over the metal door, again… Before taking in a deep breath and lightly tapping on it with his knuckles. The Gorilla Arms aiding to the volume, the sound of metal on metal. It'll just be a night or two. I'll sleep on the couch, we'll have our own spaces, it'll be fine.

Soon enough, the door slid open to reveal Steph looking up at Damien, leaning to the side of the doorframe. The larger man's cheeks flushing with color as he looked down at Steph. He was so used to seeing him in dresses, elegant and formal, never once had he been around him in such a casual manner. So as he stood there, silent, his eyes began to hungrily scan the new look before him. No make-up, just those feminine eyelashes that seemed to subtly drag with his blinks. A white crop top, tight black short shorts and-

"Oh, hey. I… thought you headed home already." Steph began, catching Damien off-guard as his attention snapped to the boy before him.

"A-Ah- Um… yeah, about that. Seems like the storm has hit, it's a bit too dangerous to head through. I was… wondering if I could just- well, y'know… Take up your offer from earlier to spend the night or something. If that's alright. I just don't feel safe with how hard the wind is blowing."

Steph gave a small smirk to Damien, pushing off the frame to allow Damien inside, a visible revolver held at his side as he gestured for Damien to step in. The bartender entered with measured steps, sliding his shoes off, while Steph shut the door behind him and locked it.

"The couch is all yours. It's not the comfiest place in the world, but it's better than the floor or the backseat of your car."

"Thanks, I'll… try not to be a bother." Damien walked over to the couch, taking a seat across from the window and began to undo his vest.

Despite the heavy rain, the whirling wind, he couldn't stop listening to the quiet padding of skin against the floor. He could hear Steph move, his bare feet padding around the space as he finished up getting ready for bed, leaving Damien to dwell on whatever he was thinking. The bartender looked over his shoulder, observing Steph in the bathroom while he removed his make-up bit by bit, his eyes drifting down the curvy figure towards those pesky distractions. His feet.

Even from where he sat, he couldn't help but admire their shape. They were just like their owner, feminine in appearance. The subtle pale skin on the sole, the curve of the arch, the golden nails and the way the anklet sat on him was just so… captivating. No, they were alluring. He was unable to take his eyes off them. The adjusting of the feet with their owner shifting weight, the heel pop as Steph leaned forward, he was really being given a show. A performance that, unbeknownst to Damien, was closely monitored by the ringmaster.

"Enjoying the view?" Steph asked, quickly snapping Damien's attention upwards, finding a smug smile residing on that beautiful face of his.

"I- sorry, I just haven't- I haven't seen you lookin' like this before- i-is uh… that's all." Damien stammered, quickly turning his attention back to the remaining buttons of his vest.

"Mhm. I understand. We've only really spoken at work. As you said, private life and business life separated." Steph coyly teased, moving slowly around towards the other side of the couch, sitting down as he crossed one leg over the other.

He bounced his foot as he sat, staring intently at Damien as he finally removed his vest. The burning sensation of Steph's gaze feeling as intrusive as the neon lights of the mega-corps in the city. All the while, the visible blur of skin moving at the corner of Damien's eye, beckoning him to just look over and watch the spectacle before him. The tension itself as sound and durable as a monowire, ready to snap at any moment. Damien remained as focused as he could be, head down as he worked the buttons of his shirt, the heat inside of him building as he noticed the blend of gold nails moving up and down.

The lights down, the glow of the city outside lighting the interior in broad vague strokes, nobody but the two of them in this space.

"Y'know I don't bite, right~?" Steph asked, a soft smack of the lips before he spoke, just to catch Damien's gaze.

The singer snared him in his net the moment the bartender's head lifted up, he witnessed the tracking of the eyes from his feet to his face. He could feel Damien's scowl before it manifested, the mild annoyance visible on the man's chiseled face but his cheeks and eyes were painting a very different portrait.

"Don't worry, love, I won't haze you. Secret's safe with me." Steph sang softly, leaning forward to grasp the coffee table between them, only to withdraw with a pack of cigarettes and his lighter.

"I- Steph-"

The singer drew one out from the box, pressing it between his lips as he lit the end and took a drag. A slow puff of smoke rolled from his lips, dancing through the air, slowly.

Right before he kicked up both stunning steppers upon the table. "What~? I ain't doin' nothin', darling."

Damien seemed to lean forward on instinct as the feet placed themselves before him. Beckoning him like a lighthouse in the dark, just demanding his attention. The soft wrinkles that formed with the curl of the toes, the gentle shuffle of skin against skin as they intermingled. Chrome free, not a single bit of cyberware to be found on them. They were all natural. Damien felt his heart flutter for a second, forcing him to lean back in his seat, eyes wide as something overtook him.

"Go ahead. It can be just between you and me. Besides, I feel like a massage is rather… necessary after walking around in those heels for so long." Steph mused, taking another long drag from his cigarette.

Finally, he had Damien where he wanted him. He found a fault.

Cautiously, Damien looked between Steph and those precious peds. His hands moving, trembling, towards them as he cupped the heels. How he wished he could feel the skin clearer, his thumbs gently running along the soles, grazing the skin with the metal cyberware he had. He could feel the welling of spit in his mouth, a hunger he never knew he had festering in him, a primal craving for those feet he touched. All the while Steph, ever the tease he was, simply remained quiet.

No remarks, no quips, just allowing Damien to breathe in this moment. As he felt the pressing of his digits into his sole and the slow circle of Damien's thumbs, Steph let out a soft sigh. Each second that passed, Damien grew bolder, more comfortable. His thumbs beginning to work away at the knots in Steph's feet, pressing purposefully into the soft skin, tending to them with the same care and ease that he put into all his work. It was very hard for Steph to ignore the sensation riding up his spine. A soft but audible moan escaped his lips before it was quickly covered up by his hand. His blush growing fast, like a fire over dead grass.

Damien lifted his head up and chuckled softly, his own face so red it would make Arasaka envious. "Hit a weak spot?" He asked.

Steph nodded. "S-Sorry, sorry. It just- Ahn~!" Another soft moan escaped him while he slammed his fist in the couch as Damien continued his work.

"Just what? I ain't doin' nothin'." He remarked with a playful smirk.

"Sh-Shut up! I didn't wanna make it freaky." Steph huffed, taking another drag from his cigarette, puffing the smoke once more into the air between.

Damien paused, glancing between his co-worker and the spectacular feet that belonged to him. There was a building excitement in him. A raging fire, one that was just begging to be lit and was growing increasingly more challenging to ignore… He couldn't deny himself this. "I can… even it out to make it fair."

Without much pretense, Damien leaned in and pressed his warm tongue against the surface of Steph's foot. A jolt ran up his core, a sensation he had been dying to feel, all given to a boy who he had just turned down not ten minutes ago. Steph shifted a bit in his seat, surprised by the sudden change in confidence, watching with wide eyes while Damien's tongue ran laps across his sensitive soles.

It was… strange but soothing, like a warm, wet massage that tingled. Damien certainly seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. His spit beginning to coat the pale sole of his right foot, running along the creases as Damien just savored this moment. A soft giggle began to grow in Steph, his hand moving to cover his lips to hide the smile, before Damien paused and glared at him. "What's so funny?" He asked coldly.

"N-Nothing, it's just-" Steph giggled, "I thought you said you didn't like boys."

"Shut it." Damien growled, returning back to lapping away at the smug singer's feet, trying his best to ignore the ongoing giggling happening in front of him.

He was still stuck here with Steph but at least the awkwardness was gone. He had a place to stay sheltered from the storm and now, with complete privacy, he could… indulge and explore a little. His tongue continued it's journey. It wove between each toe, then dove down the sole, then it was running along the bottoms before each individual toe was suckled on like a candy.

"Are you sure you're still straight after this~?" Steph cooed, "You wouldn't be opposed to… say, a dinner together some time?"

Damien pulled back from Steph's big toe with a wet pop before meeting his gaze. A thread of spit linking his lip to the soles he held, a trail that flexed faintly in tandem with Steph's toes which wriggled while waiting for the answer.

Truly, Damien didn't know. He couldn't explain why he felt this way about Steph's feet, why he indulged himself so passionately or why he was now second guessing his earlier choice if only for the velvety feet in his grasp.

Steph just smiled as he always had, smug with those bedroom eyes, a warmth to him that felt unrivaled by anyone else in the city.

"It can be our lil' secret. Not like anyone will be interrupting us for a bit, right~?" Steph asked.

Another beat of silence stretched between them, Damien calculating his own muddied thoughts, as an answer felt still so foreign to him despite his cyberware. He clicked his tongue once, twice, before letting the feet move to his lap. "I dunno, maybe just… not straight for you." He mumbled.

"I'll take that. We can take it slow, there's no rush."

"But… we really can't let Elio know about this." Damien added, his hands moving instinctively to rub those slick feet.

"I know. Trust me. Nobody will find out."

"…Okay."

"Okay." Steph's smile grew, his heart pounding in his chest as it was finally put in place.

To think this night, weirdly warped as it was, would end like this. They had the days ahead to themselves, to explore and figure this out more, to finalize whatever this arrangement was. If it was official or just a booty call. But, for Steph, it didn't matter.

He had his mainline. His man.