Requiem
REQUIEM DIDN’T know why, but every time Damion kissed him abruptly, it caught him off guard. It had happened so often now that he should’ve expected it at any point, but he hadn’t, and so he inhaled sharply through his nose before relaxing even more in Damion’s lap. He kissed his… lover back slowly, still getting used to the feeling of having someone this close to him, of having someone want him in a nonmalicious way. And he was also getting used to… caring about someone. He hypothesized it was caring. He didn’t have any other explanation for his thoughts or the warm feelings in his chest.
Damion pushed his fingers through Requiem’s hair again, pulling away to look at him. “I want you. Are you okay enough for this?’
“Want me?” Requiem blinked, his head tilting to the side. “In what capacity?” He still wasn’t used to Damion’s terminology or slang.
“To have sex, you innocent idiot.” Damion looked amused by Requiem’s confusion.
“I am not an idiot. It is not my fault when you use terminology that I am not familiar with,” Requiem countered. “And I am acceptable. I no longer feel as if I need to rest immediately.”
“What about your backside?” Damion ran a finger lightly over a bruise on Requiem’s neck.
There was slight pain from Damion’s fingertips on his skin, but it only helped to remind Requiem how he received it and an involuntary shiver followed the movement. “It is also acceptable.”
“Then let me get the lube while you take off your shorts.” Damion smiled, pressing another quick kiss to his lips.
“As you wish.” Requiem slid off Damion’s lap and stood up. He removed his boxers, placing them on the chair, and then stood there, waiting.
“Why are you just standing there?” Damion removed his own clothing and grabbed the tube from the nightstand.
“I do not know where you would like me.”
“On the bed, of course.” Damion shook his head. “You are far too innocent.”
Requiem decided that Damion’s words didn’t need an answer and sat down on the bed, moving to the center of it.
“You like having sex with me, right?” Damion asked as he watched him move over the bed.
“Affirmative. I find it pleasurable and… warm.” Requiem looked up at Damion, approval in his eyes. “Why do you ask?”
Damion sighed, crawling toward him. “I just wanted to make sure you liked it because I have a feeling you would let me do it even if you didn’t.”
Thinking about it for a moment, Requiem reached out to run his chilled fingertips against Damion’s cheek. “Affirmative. I would if it would make you happy. But I would also be truthful about it since I cannot lie to you. I find the experiences involved in having intercourse with you most agreeable. I apologize if you did not get that impression.”
“I figured the way your eyes rolled back into your head might be a sign of pleasure.” Damion leaned down for a kiss, and his lips curled in a slight smile.
“Then why did you ask?” Requiem inquired in a mumble before being silenced by the welcome lips. He left his hand on Damion’s cheek, curling his scarred fingers against the warm skin as his eyes slid closed.
“I like to make sure.”
Damion went back to kissing Requiem breathless while stroking his naked body, his tongue exploring every crevice of Requiem’s mouth.
Requiem inhaled sharply through his nose, abandoning Damion’s skin to thread his hand through the black hair on the back of his neck. “I think you are merely reaffirming for your own satisfaction.”
Damion ignored Requiem’s answer and focused instead on a patch of his neck. “I want to cover every centimeter of your pale skin with love bites to show everyone that you’re mine.”
Gasping, Requiem tilted his head to the side to give Damion more room to work. His fingers tightened in the hair he was already gripping as a sharp pain beelined for his groin, causing him to squirm involuntarily under him.
Damion licked Requiem’s neck. “You get so hard from a little bit of pain.”
“I do not understand it. I generally do not appreciate pain, although I can push it aside. I have never received pleasure from it before.” Requiem focused on the ceiling as he concentrated on the hot, wet warmth of Damion’s tongue soothing the sting in his neck.
“Because this is me and this feels good to you.” Damion lightly bit Requiem’s clavicle while his hand moved between them to take hold of the half-hard member between Requiem’s legs. “See.”
Requiem jumped slightly at the bolt of pleasure that sparked through his system as Damion wrapped around him. “I see the results. I just do not understand how they come about,” he stated, a bit breathless. It was then that he noticed something. Thinking back to the times before when they had sex, there was an increase. “Each time we have sex it feels different. Stronger. More…. My body reacts more, feels more.” He sounded perplexed by this admission as he skimmed his hands down Damion’s neck and shoulders.
“I like that.” Damion grinned. “Now spread your legs apart so I can prepare you.”
“But I do not understand it,” Requiem said again as he did as Damion asked.
Damion spread the thick, slick substance over his fingers. “You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do. Everything needs an explanation.” Requiem watched Damion’s face as he gripped the man’s upper arms.
Damion chuckled. “Just live with the knowledge that sometimes there is not a damn good explanation.” He slipped one greased finger past Requiem’s tight entrance and into the heat of his channel.
“But that is not knowledge. That is the absence of—” Requiem gasped before he could finish the sentence. The slight burn of the finger entering him trailed up his spine.
“That is acceptance,” Damion whispered, kissing Requiem and quickly adding a second finger.
Requiem’s low, soft moan was muffled by Damion’s lips and tongue. Requiem’s blunt nails dug into Damion’s muscular arms as his legs twitched and he squirmed. In these moments, his body took control, knowing what it wanted even if his mind hadn’t completely caught up.
Damion worked on stretching Requiem’s muscles while they kissed slowly, his tongue simulating what his cock would soon be doing.
Requiem skimmed his fingers over Damion’s skin, along his shoulders, down his arms, and eventually running featherlight over his ribcage and sides. He continued to move his hips, pushing Damion’s fingers deeper into him even as his tongue ran along Damion’s and his teeth nibbled experimentally along Damion’s lower lip. He felt hot, his skin sensitive and needy.
Damion slipped in a third finger, this time pushing deeper and rubbing the inner walls of Requiem’s channel.
Letting out a small, surprised cry against Damion’s lips, Requiem shuddered underneath him. He had to pull away, suddenly unable to breathe. Requiem wasn’t one to beg—he never had, in fact, as a matter of personal pride. But that self-promise shattered as his need flared and he writhed wantonly. “Please,” he whimpered.
“Please take the fingers away or please do that again?”
Requiem managed to pry his eyes open to focus on Damion’s face. He shook his head, not understanding what he wanted, just knowing that he wanted, needed more. His lips felt raw and swollen, his skin hypersensitive, his body throbbing, and his cock almost painfully hard. All he knew was that he wanted Damion to make it better, to deal with the pulsing of his blood and the fire under his skin. And he didn’t know how to tell him that.
Damion pulled his fingers out of Requiem and spread the lube over his own throbbing shaft. “Raise your knees more,” he ordered, his voice deep as it often became during sex.
Requiem bent his knees with his feet flat on the bed. He watched Damion with hooded eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly with silent puffs of air. In that moment, seeing Damion’s tan skin flushed with heat, his dark eyes glittering, Requiem realized that he considered his Fighter to be what was commonly known as handsome. Visually appealing. He had noticed it before but never really acknowledged it. He always knew that Damion was attractive on the inside, his intellectual mind and fiery spirit, but never paid much attention to the wrappings. Now noticing, this pleased him.
“What’s that grin for?” Damion asked as he began to push his way inside Requiem.
“I did not know that I was, as you say, grinning—” The end of the sentence trailed off in a strangled cry. With the scrambling fingers of one hand, he clutched at Damion’s hip, while he covered his mouth with the other as his body bowed.
It hurt, despite being prepared. The pain of being stretched in such a way burned its way up his spine, but at the same time it was wonderful. Pleasant, because he knew it would get better. It would feel amazing soon.
Requiem moved his hand so that his lips could meet Damion’s. Damion braced himself on his forearms and leaned down to kiss Requiem again before he began moving slowly. Requiem moved to grip both sides of Damion’s hips, grasping tightly as their tongues slid along each other’s hungrily. It soon turned good, amazing even, but didn’t quite reach where Requiem needed it. Shifting, he moved his hands up to Damion’s waist and wrapped his legs around Damion’s hips. His heels dug into Damion’s ass, urging him on.
Their bodies were honest, remembering how they liked it and where. Damion’s left hand curled into Requiem’s hair while he pulled his hips back halfway and then surged forward with enough force to please both of them.
Requiem let out a soft cry, his head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut, panting mouth open. With each thrust, Damion managed to run the head of his cock over that sweet spot inside him that made him catch his breath in ecstasy. His body clenched around Damion as Requiem tensed from the sparks shooting through his veins.
Damion found another spot of skin to mark with his lips and teeth while his hips continued to thrust into Requiem’s willing body. Requiem’s muscles squeezed him tightly every time he pushed inside. There was no hesitation to Requiem’s movements or moans. Damion found the bruised, tender flesh behind Requiem’s ear, right next to a port, and worked it with his mouth and teeth.
Biting down on his bottom lip to stifle another cry, Requiem quivered at the feeling of Damion’s hot mouth and sharp teeth on his skin. He skimmed his hands over Damion’s back until they reached his shoulders, and then he hooked his fingers over them, gripping tightly. He buried his face in Damion’s neck while still giving him access to his flesh.
Damion focused completely on the act. The sound of flesh against flesh echoed throughout the room, and sweat mixed with the precome from Requiem’s cock trapped between them.
With Damion thrusting into him hard and fast, along with Damion’s muscled abdomen rubbing against his need, Requiem was quickly approaching completion. The pool of heat in his groin built to near volcanic levels and little cries were muffled by his teeth and Damion’s neck.
Damion let out a loud cry as his orgasm tore through him, his hips moving as he pushed his seed into Requiem’s open body. “Yes!”
Requiem followed him into oblivion, muffling his own low cry by biting Damion’s shoulder. He dug his fingers harshly into Damion’s shoulders as his mind exploded into whiteness. He trembled and twitched, his muscles tightening around Damion, milking him as he came violently all over their chests and stomachs.
“Gods,” Damion gasped, and he almost crushed Requiem beneath him as he sank down.
Requiem didn’t care, not really noticing the heavy weight on top of him, because he was clinging to it. He released Damion’s shoulder, saving it from his teeth as his head flopped back onto the mattress. He closed his eyes. He was having difficulty catching his breath and he was unable to deal with muscle control any longer. His legs had unlocked from Damion’s hips and fallen back down to the bed.
Damion licked his lips and slumped to the side, wincing a bit and causing Requiem to gasp as Damion slid out of him. “Damn, it’s like my skin is on fire.”
Requiem let his arms drop to the bed. His body still twitched occasionally, trying to regain control over his muscles. “I am having a similar feeling,” he replied in a hoarse voice, his gaze focusing on the ceiling lazily.
“Good.” Damion grinned from ear to ear and ran his fingers through the mess on his stomach. “Shower?”
“A distinctly appropriate solution.” Requiem shifted—or at least attempted to. In actuality he only twitched. “Unfortunately I have to report that I do not believe I can currently move.” Tiredness settled over his limbs, threatening to drag him into an abyss, but he fought against it. He blinked, his gaze trailing over to the comm screen as it beeped twice for an incoming internal transmission.
“Who the fuck is trying to get us?” Damion muttered as he sat up with a groan.
Juni’s name flashed across the screen, an icon of a cartoon face with a big grin flashing next to it for his signature.
Seeing it, Requiem sighed and looked away, closing his eyes at the same time. It was quite extraordinary, the perception Fighter Mathis had. At least this time he was calling after instead of before or during, otherwise Requiem was sure it would not have been pleasant for 108’s Fighter.
Damion grabbed his discarded underwear before sitting down and opening the transmission. “Do I have to start tucking you into bed?”
“What the hellll-lo, was I interrupting something?” Juni’s cheeky grin appeared on the screen as he viewed the state Damion was in, his gaze trailing to a spot of fluid on Damion’s collarbone.
“One day I’m going to interrupt you and see how amused you are,” Damion warned, giving him a glare. “Did something happen that you’re bothering me?”
“Mmm, that would have to involve 108 and I being in the room,” Juni corrected with a sly grin as he looked to something—or someone—off screen. A low snort was heard and then the sound of a door closing. Juni laughed softly, looking back at Damion. “I was going to see if you wanted to go to the officers’ bar on level two for a few drinks while 47 slept, but I’m guessing that he wasn’t that tired. So I’ll retract that and let you go have more messy fun.”
Damion flipped off his friend. “I’m going to shower, and then I’m going to sleep and hope that I won’t have to patrol with your lazy ass tomorrow.”
“Oh, you cut me to the bone.” Juni dramatically placed a hand flat to his chest over his heart. “Too bad, so sad. We’re running paired doubles tomorrow. You’re stuck with me allll day—0700 hours. And I will torture you. Oh yes, I will.” Insane laughter could still be heard as Juni cut the video feed and only ended when he shut off the vocal.
Damion let out a long sigh. “At least I won’t fall asleep at the helm.” He got up and looked over at Requiem. “You need help to the shower?”
Prying open one eye, Requiem looked at Damion. Taking an internal account of his body, he reluctantly nodded. “I apologize, but I do not believe my muscles will hold me in the appropriate position to walk at this time.”
“All right.” Damion bent down and pulled Requiem’s arm over his shoulders and then helped him to the bathroom.
“Thank you,” Requiem whispered. His legs shook with each step, feeling like wonderful warm jelly. He ignored the feeling of Damion’s seed exiting his body and sliding down his legs.
“Just lean against the wall for a second.” Damion helped him back against the cool tile of the bathroom wall before starting up the shower.
“I apologize that I am such a burden to you,” Requiem said softly after a few moments. The steam from the shower caressed his skin in a pleasant way.
“You’re not a burden.” Damion pulled him forward again and into the shower stall, which was barely big enough for both of them. He held Requiem close as he began to wash Requiem’s bruised, weary body.
Requiem sighed blissfully as the warm water and Damion’s hands soothed his tired body. He rested his head on Damion’s shoulder and closed his eyes, letting himself be taken care of. “I appreciate that you attempt to say otherwise, but it is not the truth. If it were not for my presence in your life, it would be much simpler and not nearly so dangerous. But I thank you for it.”
Damion started on Requiem’s hair. “I don’t think there is a simple way for a Fighter to live.”
A brief moan began behind Requiem’s lips before he caught it and cut it off. He sighed in contentment as Damion’s strong fingers massaged his scalp, easing the headache that had started to creep up into his temples. “Perhaps not simple, but simpler.”
“Again, I deny that statement, but I think you’d argue with me ’cause you have to be right, always.” Damion gave a tug to Requiem’s soapy locks and then nudged him under the spray.
“I deny that statement. I do not claim I am right. I merely make suggestions that you can take under consideration if you wish.” Requiem couldn’t get out any more words as the steamy water poured over his head, rinsing out his hair. He leaned against the wall, enjoying the heat and Damion’s grip on his arms keeping him upright.
“Let me just wash quick and we’ll get you back to bed.”
Damion sounded amused at Requiem’s lethargy—probably because he was the cause. Requiem leaned against the cool tile wall of the stall and closed his eyes, keeping quiet. He felt he might fall asleep right then and there and used the chill against his back to keep himself awake.
Damion finished showering quickly and then turned off the water before grabbing them both towels. “Here, dry off before you catch a cold.”
“I have never caught a ‘cold.’” Requiem took the towel, his brow furrowed minutely as he dried off.
“Well, you can get one from not taking care of your body,” Damion explained as he bent down and picked up Requiem again, carrying him back to bed.
Requiem wrapped an arm around Damion’s neck, clinging to the damp towel. “Is catching a cold a euphemism for becoming ill?” His words slurred with exhaustion, and he was hanging on to consciousness by his fingernails.
“So damn smart.” Damion laid Requiem down on the bed and quickly covered up his damp body with the top sheet. “Jack in tomorrow to appease the assholes downstairs before we head out.”
“As you command,” Requiem replied with a yawn, turning on his side. “Do you wish for me to wake you an hour before launch?”
“Thirty minutes.” Damion crawled into the bed and sighed as he pulled up the extra blanket for himself before hugging Requiem close. “If Juni starts singing tomorrow, I want you to order 108 to knock him out.”
“I am fairly sure that 108 would not require an order from me to make that decision if it is for the good of all.”
Requiem snuggled closer to his… lover—such an odd term—and quickly gave himself to sleep.