Requiem
IT WAS past 3:00 a.m. when Damion came back with a heavily inebriated Juni.
“You are too damn loud,” Requiem heard Damion warn as they neared the guest room door. “And I’ve had to practically carry you through the streets to your parents’ house, you laughing idiot!” Damion did not want Fighter Juni’s parents to hear their son so drunk.
Requiem quickly rose from his chair and went to the door. 108 was asleep on the sofa and had been for a while, leaving Requiem to make sure no one disturbed them. There had been someone outside the door at one point, causing a few nerve-racking minutes for Requiem as the person knocked a few times, sighed, and then left. But that had been all.
After he keyed in the pass code, the door slid open to admit the Fighters. 108 awoke the moment the door opened and Juni’s drunken voice filled the room.
“I don’t know why those girls were so damn prissy!” Juni looked at the two Cores and waved. “Hi!”
108 quickly and easily took Juni from Damion as if he had to do this type of maneuvering often. As soon as he had Juni balanced correctly, he started down the hall toward the inebriated Fighter’s room. All without saying a word.
“I have to start picking better, or at least smarter, company to keep.” Damion sat down in the nearest chair and began to take off his shoes, asking Requiem, “How was your night?”
Requiem stayed within the doorway, watching 108 and Juni walk away, his gaze trailing Juni’s hand as the Fighter slid it down 108’s back and grabbed his ass. 108 looked at Requiem for a long moment, nodding at him to say it was all right, before they disappeared into the bedroom. Requiem let the door slide closed, keying the lock.
“Uneventful,” he finally replied, walking over to Damion and kneeling down to help him take off his shoes. He tried to ignore the smells that surrounded Damion: scents of alcohol, sim tobacco, and a fragrant perfume. “Yours?”
“It started out fun.” Damion rubbed his eyes, not even objecting to Requiem’s help. “Then the girls became crazy, and Juni drank more, and in the end we got lost.”
“Crazy? Lost?” Requiem asked in a monotone, pulling off Damion’s socks and putting them neatly inside the boots before tucking them under the chair. He stood and began to pull Damion’s shirt off, getting him ready for bed. “So you did not have a relaxing experience?”
“Nah, it was fine until I had to carry Juni back.” Damion let out a rusty chuckle. “Made me feel sixteen for a few hours.”
“I am thankful, then, that you had a pleasant time.” Requiem folded the shirt neatly and put it in the laundry chute. He crossed the room and retrieved a glass of water, handing it to Damion. “You needed the relaxation.”
“Let me guess—you were bored.” Damion had a smile on his face that didn’t go away. “It was fun seeing Juni get smacked.”
“I was acceptable,” Requiem replied and then tilted his head, confused at Damion’s obvious good mood. “Why was Fighter Juni struck?”
“Because he tried to make a pass at a lady who was with someone already.” Damion laughed. “Twice! I was more afraid of the boyfriend showing up.” Damion drank some water and then took a deep breath. “Definitely high-scale bars here.”
“I see. For a Fighter who was once praised for his observational skills, perhaps he should stay in a Zodiac and not on the ground.” Requiem stood to the side of Damion’s chair in case there was anything else he needed to do. “Will you be going out again?”
“Tonight? Hell no.” Damion shook his head. “Right now I think sleep is the best thing for me to do. Also, Juni was on his second set of shots for the night and in our second bar. After that I was burnt out.”
“I did not mean this evening.” Requiem took the empty glass from Damion’s hand and set it to the side so that he could pull Damion to his feet. Damion might not be as drunk as Juni, but he was still somewhat inebriated. “So the alcohol impeded Fighter Juni’s observational skills?”
“Alcohol impedes a lot of shit and then makes you feel like you’re ten times bigger and stronger than you actually are.” Damion walked over to the bed slowly. “As for going out again, I’m not sure. I think Juni had planned on giving us the five-star tour tomorrow.”
“If my observations of Fighter Juni’s personality are correct, I can assure you that he will attempt to convince you to go out again.” Requiem held on to Damion’s arm to help him, but he was not expecting Damion to flop on the bed facedown, pulling Requiem with him. Letting go of Damion’s arm, Requiem sat up, sighing imperceptibly. “What happened to the women you were with?” he asked, merely to keep Damion awake while he tried to get him into the proper position for sleep so that Damion didn’t wake up with a kink in his neck in the morning.
“They went on their way.” Damion rolled onto his back slowly and let out another sigh. “Just didn’t work out. Dancing was fun, though. It’s been ages since I danced with anyone.”
“What did not work out?” Requiem asked, undoing Damion’s belt so that Requiem could take his pants off and leave him in his boxers.
“First, I refuse to pay for sex even if Juni was all up for the thought, and second, I was worried where we’d take them. I don’t know if they have love hotels like they do on Mars.”
“Love… hotels? I do not understand.” Requiem put the pants down the laundry chute and then maneuvered Damion around so that his head was on the plush pillows. Requiem tugged on the blankets to free them from under Damion’s heavy body. “Explain, please?”
“You know, places that you bring someone to have sex for a few hours,” Damion said matter-of-factly as he lifted himself enough to allow Requiem to pull out the blankets. “Never heard of them? Really?”
“There is much that Cores are not informed of and are encouraged not to learn. Anything pertaining to sex is one of those subjects,” Requiem replied, pulling the blankets over Damion as soon as he got him into place.
“Don’t worry, I doubt we’ll ever be going to one, and neither of us can afford a Countessa.”
“Why would we ever go to one? And what is a Countessa?” Requiem slid off the bed, going to his bags of clothing so that he could change into his sleeping clothes.
“You know… the legalized prostitutes.” Damion closed his eyes, and his voice began to fade. “Hmm, Requiem?”
“Yes?” Requiem undressed from the clothes Damion had insisted he wear on Lunar, before changing into a pair of sleep pants.
“Come here for a moment.” Damion reached out to pull him closer.
Requiem had gotten his pants on when Damion’s large hand wrapped around his elbow and pulled him back onto the bed. It was a common feeling, Damion pulling him constantly off balance. He sat up, turning so that he was sitting on the bed, facing Damion, the man’s hand still wrapped around his bare arm.
“It may just be the alcohol, but I don’t think I’m that drunk. And yet I still can’t get you out of my head,” Damion admitted in a slurred voice. “What does that mean?”
Staring at him, Requiem swallowed in what he could only guess was nervousness. “I… do not know what it means.” But he knew how Damion felt. Requiem could not stop thinking about his Fighter either. Being around Damion was the only time he felt safe, real even. “Perhaps the reason is merely that we are in each other’s presence nearly all the time. So when I am not there, you feel like I should be because I am generally with you. I am sorry if I inadvertently came in between you and your evening.”
“It’s not just about being together.” Damion pulled Requiem a bit closer. “It’s about the attraction.”
Damion’s motions effectively pulled Requiem’s arm out from under him, making him fall back so that he was lying next to Damion. “You believe that you think about me often because… you are attracted to me?”
“I don’t know what I’m feeling other than I want to kiss you again.” Damion slowly leaned closer to Requiem and then hesitated.
Requiem was too shocked to stop him even if he thought it was a bad idea. He didn’t mind, but the last time Damion had done something like this, Damion had regretted it immediately afterward. He was about to say so, but by then Damion’s soft lips were on his own and Requiem couldn’t say anything at all.
Requiem kept his eyes open, not knowing if he should close them, as he pressed his lips back against Damion’s. Originally, it was out of curiosity, but once the soft flesh was on his own, a warmth filled his body, making him feel… complete. Wanted. Needed. And that was a large thing that he had been looking for in his life-event, though he hadn’t realized it until that moment.
Damion’s eyes were closed as he kissed Requiem. His hands clenched for a moment before he pulled away. He opened his eyes and smiled at Requiem. “Thanks.”
“You are welcome,” Requiem replied softly, a bit of wonder in his voice. “But… why? If it is okay to ask, that is. Last time you did this, you immediately regretted it afterwards. Despite my assurances that I did not mind. Why do it again?” He could feel Damion’s hand tighten and then loosen on his arm, as if the man were restraining himself.
“I don’t fucking know,” Damion answered. “Because you’ve been raped before? Because we’re two guys, and I’ve never been with another man. Because it just seems like a really bad idea even if I can’t help myself wanting it.”
Damion paused a minute, his lips pressed tight before he continued. “I should have drunk more.”
“Why would drinking more have had any effect on your decision?” Requiem pulled his arm free and slid toward the edge of the bed, his long legs dangling over. “You’ve already explained to me the difference between rape and consensual sex. With you, it would not be rape. You are too… good-hearted to ever force me to do something I do not wish to do.” He moved off the tall bed and stood. “As for the other reasons, I do not have any answers for you. That is obviously something you need to work out yourself.”
“I’ve been trying,” Damion said as he appeared focused on Requiem’s lips. “Sorry. I know this must be confusing for you as well.”
“I must admit, it is rather confusing, yes. And I still do not understand how drinking more alcohol would have helped the situation, but I have a feeling you are in no position to answer that either.” Requiem walked to the entrance of the servant’s room, where a cot had been made up for him, out of Damion’s sight. “Once you understand your own mind, let me know, so I can be relieved of this confusion. For now, get some rest. Sleep well.”
After having given the orders for once, Requiem shut off the lights. Perhaps everything that had happened since Damion returned to the room would make more sense once Damion was sober. However, Requiem was confident of one thing. Damion was nothing like Morales or Requiem’s other previous Fighters. If Damion had wished to go further, it would have been more than acceptable to Requiem.