Damion
DAMION WAS shocked that Requiem had actually kissed him. He knew this would change things, but no matter what happened, Requiem would always be his Core. The last of his moral barriers broke as he placed a hand on the back of Requiem’s head and began kissing him—truly kissing him. Damion slipped his tongue between the trembling lips while he dragged the thinner man even closer. He was fully aroused and not too hungover to know exactly what he was getting himself into. He had never had full-out sex with another man. There had been drunken nights of experimentation in boot camp, but never penetration.
As Damion tucked Requiem under his body, he kept kissing him and threading his hands through the silky hair. It was as if a dam had broken and every hidden desire that Damion had felt for so long was bursting forth.
Requiem seemed shocked when Damion’s tongue entered his mouth, and he began to pull away. Damion curled his fingers through his hair, impeding him. Hesitantly, Requiem slid his tongue along Damion’s, gently exploring his mouth. Requiem slowly placed his hands on Damion’s rib cage.
Damion moved his lips from Requiem’s, down his pale neck and chest. He didn’t know what would please Requiem, so he licked at the left nipple first, waiting for a reaction.
Requiem jumped slightly at the touch. “Strange,” he mumbled. He moved his hands from Damion’s side and back to the bed. “This is unexpected.”
Damion gazed down and saw Requiem finally start to respond. Damion lightly scratched his nails down Requiem’s pale sides as he kissed his way back up his chest to those waiting lips. He tried to ignore the lost look on Requiem’s face. He supposed this was different from Requiem’s other sexual experiences because those times were rape—and this wasn’t. He hadn’t ordered Requiem to have sex with him. The problem was that Damion wasn’t sure what to order him to do.
Damion rocked his hips down into Requiem’s, needing the friction of the silken pale skin. His cock was now hard as steel and aching for any sort of stimulation.
“New. Never felt this before.” Requiem’s eyes widened as Damion’s hardness slid against his own, separated by mere cloth. Damion’s mouth and body held him gently against the soft bed beneath them.
“My body. Warmth. Sensations.” Requiem gasped.
Damion’s nails on Requiem’s tender sides, his mouth on Requiem’s chest, neck, and lips—everything caused his Core to tremble.
“You okay?” Damion asked, feeling Requiem shiver as Damion began to pull down Requiem’s sleep pants with gentle but needy tugs.
Requiem licked his lips and nodded, and the eyes that met Damion’s were wide and filled with ever-changing emotions. “It is… interesting. And also very perplexing,” he finally replied, his hands still gripping the bedding beneath him.
“Not scared?” Damion had pulled the pants down and was about to touch Requiem’s shaft when there was a knock at their door.
“No, not scared.” Requiem’s head slanted in response to the knocking, yet he did not appear worried. “I think the emotion could be identified as nervous, but I am not sure.”
Damion tensed as there was another, more persistent knock.
“Do you wish me to answer it?” Requiem asked. “This is an unfortunate interruption.”
“No, no just…. Gods damn it, yes!” Damion got up from the bed and headed to the bathroom. “Just… find out who it is, but give me ten.”
Requiem
“AS YOU order,” Requiem said, suddenly cold from the lack of Damion’s warmth as he left the bed.
Requiem took a deep breath, settling his body back into its normal state, and sat up. He blinked, seeing something odd. His penis was… well, doing something interesting that it had never done before. As he watched, it slowly seemed to… deflate, going back to the state that he knew was normal.
“Huh,” he mumbled.
Hearing the banging on the door again, he slid off the bed and pulled his sleep pants back up. He walked to the door and spoke the unlock code to allow it to open, tilting his head slightly as he saw a dark-eyed, bedraggled Juni at their door. Again.
“Fighter Hawk is in the bathroom at the moment,” Requiem said, lowering his gaze.
“Damn it.” Juni pushed past Requiem and walked quickly into the room. “Hurry up, Damion! I need to talk to you.”
No words came out of the bathroom, only a deep grunt.
Requiem keyed the door closed behind Juni, letting out a silent sigh at the other Fighter’s back before moving into the room as well. “May I get you anything?” he inquired softly.
“No, no.” Juni shook his head, tapping his fingers against his leg in impatience or nervousness. “I just need to talk to Damion for a moment.”
The bathroom door slid open and Damion appeared, looking equal parts pissed and exhausted. “What?”
“You tired?”
“What!” Damion’s dark eyes filled with fire.
“I mean, do you want to leave now? I mean, I can’t relax.” Juni fidgeted, rocking from foot to foot.
Requiem looked up at Damion and stepped back. He had never seen Damion look that angry before, except with Arkin, and that had been a different kind of fury. Arkin had been a feral, deadly, cold anger. This… this was blistering, somewhere along the lines of intent to strangle Juni, and Requiem was relieved that it wasn’t directed at him. At least, he hoped he didn’t cause it.
“Perhaps, Fighter Juni, it might be a more logical idea to walk around your home. Fighter Hawk is very weary and not feeling all that well,” he suggested quietly. “Unless what you need to speak of is of high importance?”
“Go to your room and deal with your Core and wash up. Don’t come back to this room for at least another three hours or I swear on my Zodiac I will beat you with the closest object I have available,” Damion said in a very low voice.
“Uh… right. Okay.” Juni backed away from him with trepidation.
Requiem stepped away from Juni and Damion, then ordered the door to open before Juni ran into it. Once Juni had left, Requiem gave a lock command and then he stepped back against the wall, watching Damion warily
“He—he, I will kill with my own hands one day,” Damion growled, clenching his fists at his sides. “If he wasn’t competent in a Zodiac, I would wonder why he even joined.”
Requiem stayed silent, continuing to watch Damion and keeping his back to the wall. Damion calmed down slowly. The rapid rise and fall of his chest ceased, and the flush of his face faded, but he was still angry and tired, and Requiem didn’t know where this anger had come from. Didn’t know if he had caused it or if Juni did, and he didn’t understand why Damion was so upset. So he stayed there, remained quiet, and waited.
Damion looked up. “What?”
Requiem opened his mouth to lie, to say that nothing was wrong, but his voice wouldn’t work. He could not lie to his Fighter. “Why are you so upset?”
“Because he disturbed us. Because… because I just had to jack off in the bathroom like an embarrassed teenager with his mom at the door.” Damion sat on the bed. “Aren’t you frustrated?”
Requiem stayed where he was, his gaze following Damion. “So… you are not angry with me, then? I did not upset you?” He ignored Damion’s question and decided he would ask later what this phrase “jacking off” meant.
“No, no.” Damion shook his head quickly.
“So you were merely angry at Juni for… stopping us?” Requiem tilted his head to the side.
“Yes.” Damion sighed, his shoulders slumping forward. “It’s two steps forward and five steps back.”
“I do not understand. Was there a time constraint I was not aware of?”
“It’s hard to… keep it up, and even harder to get the mood back.” Damion tried to explain, his hands circling in the air in front of him with useless motions.
Finally pushing away from the wall, Requiem walked over and slowly, hesitantly sat next to his Fighter, thoroughly confused. “I am sorry. I really only comprehend half of what you are saying, and I have a suspicion that asking you to explain will only result in you becoming more frustrated.”
“It’s not your fault, okay? I’m sorry. I guess you didn’t have a problem with getting it to calm down, huh? I kinda figured you wouldn’t.” Damion gave him a weak smile.
“Getting what to calm down?” Requiem asked with a slight frown, thinking, then connecting the dots. He opened his eyes wider. “Do you mean my penis?” Requiem asked bluntly, looking down to his lap. “I must admit, I was very intrigued. Are you saying that is supposed to happen? It has never done that before.”
“Damn.” Damion covered his face with his hands. “Why am I not surprised you can say that so easily?”
“Did I say something wrong?” Requiem asked, reaching out to grasp Damion’s wrist lightly.
“No.” Damion laughed. “I just can’t shrug off a huge woody as easy as all that. And I can’t say… penis without being reminded of the health book they pass out at the clinics.”
“But that is what the organ is called,” Requiem replied, realizing he was beginning to get a headache from the confusion. “Besides, I have already informed you that the chemical in the food Cores eat prevents us from experiencing sexual stimulation. Because 108 and I have begun to eat less than the prescribed daily amount, it is beginning to have certain effects on our bodies. Personally, it was unexpected that I reacted at all.”
“I know that’s what it’s called, but most of us don’t call it that.” Damion wrapped his arms around Requiem and rested his head on the top of his Core’s.
Requiem was silent for a moment, thinking, and then realizing he was uncomfortable in his current position. Moving slightly, he slipped out of Damion’s warm arms, trying to decide how he could attain optimal relaxation. He sat back down, but this time across Damion’s lap. “There are other names for it?”
“Uh, yeah. Slang. When you can plug in again, just look for them,” Damion suggested as he wrapped his arms back around Requiem. “Better you learn that way.”
“As you order,” Requiem replied quietly, laying his head on Damion’s shoulder and closing his eyes. “There is much I do not understand. I thought I understood a large amount, but I suppose there is still much I have to learn.”
“You know a lot, Requiem. More than any other human when it comes to computers and the systems, but when it comes to everyday life, you are a bit behind, and that’s only because of how you were raised.” Damion brushed his hand over Requiem’s hair.
“I was not raised, Damion. I was grown and then created, molded if you will. But I would not use the term “raised” in connection with my upbringing.” Requiem wrapped his naked arms around Damion, soaking in the warmth. It seemed he was always cold unless Damion was holding him.
“All right, sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Damion sighed. “Want to try to sleep a few hours again?”
“You did not upset me. I was merely correcting your misconception.” Requiem nodded. “Sleep, yes. As you wish.” He began to slide off Damion’s lap, already regretting losing the warmth.
“Come back here,” Damion grumbled, grabbing his arm. “I want you to sleep next to me.”
“I will not disturb you?”
“No, not at all.” Damion tugged Requiem forward again.
“Very well,” Requiem replied wearily, falling wherever Damion pulled him, suddenly too tired to move himself anywhere else. Cocooned in his Fighter’s arms, Requiem had never felt so safe and protected or fallen asleep so quickly.