Chrysalis Corporation

by T. A. Venedicktov

  Damion hoped he wasn’t wrong when he heard anger in Requiem’s voice as he answered.

  “I want you. I chose you. But if you do not improve in the next seven days, they will remove you from the Zeus and they will have what they want. Me without a hassle.” He seemed strained, almost in pain as he said these words; it was as if he was fighting against a wall.

  “You actually give a damn?” Damion turned in amazement before quickly striding over to Requiem and grabbing his chin to stare into his large blue eyes. “Do you even care if they terminate me?”

  “Of course I do,” Requiem replied without hesitation, looking confused. Damion had begun to wonder when Requiem trembled if it was against the barriers in his mind, against the brainwashing and compulsions.

  “But you still don’t remember anything, do you?” Damion let the pale chin go and sat next to Requiem on the bed. “You told them everything, and they told the Commander everything. Do you know how much that makes me not trust you? It kills me not being able to tell you things.” Damion pulled at his shaggy hair. “Damn it, I almost wish I could just leave and take you with me.”

  At those words, Requiem put his hands over his ears as if he could block out what Damion had just said. “Do not say that,” he hissed, his trembling increasing as sweat appeared on his brow. “I… have tried my best… to circumvent them. Telling them half-truths. But I… have been given… orders to tell them if you propose… exactly what you just did.” His words were stilted, obviously forced past a compulsion. “I am sorry that I do not remember what you wish me to, but it is difficult… to be in between two sets of orders—yours and theirs. I try to follow the ones I want to… the ones I feel are right… which are yours. But there is only so much… that I can fight.”

  Damion pulled on Requiem’s right hand, tugged him closer so he would pay closer attention to Damion’s words. “Then make your choice, and stop being their slave.”

  “It is not as easy as you say.” Requiem’s hand curled around Damion’s, squeezing it tightly as he attempted to make a fist. “They created me. My loyalty is to the Corporation, but… it is also to you. I do not understand. I have never been this…. I have never been between loyalties before. But… they own me. And if I do not do what they wish, you will either be discharged or terminated, and I do not know what they will do to me.”

  “I’ll protect you,” Damion growled in frustration, his fingers tightening around the thin wrist in his grip. “Why can’t you believe that?”

  “I do believe you, and while nothing is impossible, it is improbable that you will be able to protect us both from the Corporation.” Requiem withdrew his touch from Damion and wiped the sweat off his face with his sleeve. “They believe you will hurt me. That you are too volatile right now and are a threat to my well-being.”

  “I would never hurt you. I’d like to put a bullet in a few of their brainpans, but not you.” Damion got up just to take Requiem by the shoulders and push him down on his back on the bed. “But I don’t know what to do. How can I help you if you just tell them everything? You were pissed when you thought I didn’t trust you not to kill me, yet here we are back at the beginning. Would you kill me now? If they told you to terminate me?”

  Requiem fell back on the bed easily, pliable. “Terminate you?” he whispered, confusion showing in his eyes for a moment before it disappeared again behind the wall. “If they… ordered me…?” He was struggling against something, that much could be seen in the way he trembled and the sweat dripped down the sides of his face. “N-no… I could not. Would… not.”

  “You’d disobey them to save me?” Damion grabbed Requiem’s wrists and pinned them above his head. He gave the thin wrists a squeeze as he continued to look down into Requiem’s icy eyes.

  “I… would… terminate myself to keep you alive,” Requiem forced out through panting breaths.

  He was obviously confused as to what Damion was doing, but didn’t fight him at all.

  “Say it out loud. You obey me, not them. Say it.” Damion put his left hand on Requiem’s forehead, still holding the shaky wrists to the mattress with his right.

  “I… do not…. Please.” Something was tearing him apart. His eyes rolled in their sockets, not able to focus on Damion. “I… yes. You” was all he was able to say, to promise.

  “Again. Again.” Damion leaned closer, sharing the warm breath Requiem panted between them. “Say it again.”

  “You,” Requiem croaked out. He whimpered behind his teeth, his arms straining against Damion’s steel-like grip as they attempted to come down and cradle his head. And then something snapped, a barrier broke, and Requiem let out a long sigh, his body relaxing and the pained expression on his face disappearing. “I obey you,” he whispered.

  “Good.” Damion swooped down and pressed a bruising kiss against Requiem’s lips. His left hand curled into pale white hair while the right grasped the back of Requiem’s neck.

  Requiem inhaled through his nose, as his lips were apparently otherwise occupied. He was confused, and his eyes conveyed it. His arms stayed where Damion left them, his fingers twitching, wondering what they should do.

  “I want to have sex with you,” Damion said as he pulled his lips away and looked down into Requiem’s confused face. “Do you understand?”

  Requiem continued to stare up at him for a few moments, his gaze flicking back and forth over Damion’s face. “We have… done this before.” It was a statement, but it sounded more like a question.

  “We did it for about twelve hours straight.” Damion showed the first signs of happiness and amusement in almost two months. “But you really don’t remember it, do you? I wish you did—maybe this would be easier on you.”

  “I am sorry.” Requiem sounded sincere as he slowly lowered one hand so that it touched Damion’s face and his smiling lips, in what looked to be rediscovery. “I wish I could, just so you were not… unhappy anymore.”

  “You’ve taken the right step. Just show me that you want me more than them.” Damion leaned down and began to kiss him again, but this time he also started to unzip the Core’s attire. This time the kiss was slow instead of the predatory need from before. He licked Requiem’s soft, supple lips before delving inside the hot recesses of his mouth. He slid his tongue alongside Requiem’s, teasing it with his own before they twined together in a slow dance.

  Requiem’s hand fluttered from Damion’s mouth to his cheek. It was a complete change from the personality he had shown for the last few months, since the last time he had seen the Creators. He pulled away from Damion’s lips abruptly.

  “I… can-not. If I… if my levels become erratic, against what they wish them to be, they will discharge you, make you leave the ship. The Creator is already suspicious and wanting me to choose another Fighter unless your levels improve. If mine become unstable, or fall, they will immediately blame it on you. Damion, so far I have done my best to hide things, to circumvent the rules, but it has not been enough. We are in danger, you especially.”

  “See, right there.” Damion sat up, lifting him up a little so that he could pull Requiem’s arms out of his suit. “That’s what I want. For you to think for yourself. You’re not back to normal yet, but it’s enough to make me happy for now. As for the Creators, I don’t care about them or their rules. You’re mine. You admitted that the last time we had sex, and I’ll make you admit it again.”

  “I… implied… that?” Requiem sat up so that the suit fell down around his waist. “If you do not care, then you will be terminated. They are a force to be reckoned with. I do not understand how you plan to go against them.”

  “You’re the one who always goes on and on and on about how nothing is impossible.” Damion hurriedly stripped Requiem naked as he spoke, moving Requiem as he worked. “And to answer your question, yes, you did fucking say it, and don’t call me a liar. It pisses me off that you can’t remember as it is, so you’ll just have to trust me.”

  “Nothing is impossible, but th
ere is improbable,” Requiem stated, having lain back down on the bed while Damion removed his boots and the rest of his clothing, throwing it all to the ground. “I was not going to call you a liar. I feel that you would not lie to me. But… I do not know what to do about remembering. Yet I feel I must try something, since it seems to make you volatile that I do not.”

  “Wouldn’t it piss you off if they were able to take me away and strip my memory of you? Of everything you worked on to make me better? To make me happy?” Damion growled, kicking off his boxers while reaching for the lube that had lain forgotten all this time in the bedside table.

  “I… do not know. I do not understand how to be… pissed off, as you say.” Requiem obviously thought about it for a moment. “It would make me….” His brow furrowed in a flash of confusion. “Uneasy? I would work to help you remember.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to do without getting us in trouble, and it hasn’t been fucking working. This is the first time you’ve even acted like you give a damn.” Damion tossed the lube onto the bed and then gripped Requiem’s hips, urging him more into the center of the bed. “Weeks and weeks, all I could do was remember how great it was to have you to myself, and then they took you away. You’re mine. You’re mine, and yet they took you away.”

  Requiem’s body was pliable to Damion’s commands, as if he was going through the motions but still not noticing what exactly was going on. “The Creators,” he mumbled. His gaze flicked about, seeming to be looking for something, except it was probably internal, inside his mind. “The submersion tank. Needles. Light. Burning in my veins from chemicals.” Each word murmured as he was beginning to remember. “They created me. Own me. Control me. But I….” He winced, unable to finish the sentence.

  “No, fucking gods be damned, they don’t! You control you. You are a human, and you’re my Core.” Damion roughly pushed Requiem back down onto the bed and pressed another insistent kiss against his muttering lips. Even if Requiem didn’t remember, Damion did, and he knew what he had to do to get him to respond. If he had to start from scratch, so be it, but this time he wasn’t going to use kid gloves. No, he wasn’t holding back, since he knew Requiem had liked it and asked for it before. Nothing was going to stop him from reclaiming what was his.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Requiem

  DAMION’S WARM lips stifled mumbled words and Requiem froze for a moment against them before instinct and familiarity took over and his lips moved against Damion’s in a near primal dance. Requiem’s twitching fingers lifted to hesitantly cup Damion’s face.

  Damion kissed down Requiem’s pale, tender neck. He closed his lips around Requiem’s flesh and sucked hard, using his teeth every so often to raise blood to the surface of Requiem’s pale skin.

  A shocked, deep inhale was the only response Requiem could give. Interesting, but still familiar feelings shot through him, originating from his neck but driving the sensation of hot pleasure to his groin every time those teeth bit gently down on him. His hands moved from Damion’s face to his shoulders, almost fluttering over the tan skin. His mind was torn in two. One side, the side of him that was loyal to the Corp, that was dependent on the chemicals and the supplements, that side was surrounded by walls and compulsions. The other side was just as loyal—maybe more so—to Damion. The person he had fought for, killed for already, the only person who seemed to truly care about him.

  Damion moved his mouth lower to Requiem’s right nipple. He laved it for a few moments before lightly biting the pert nub of flesh. He reached between them while his mouth was busy, took Requiem’s shaft in hand and began to stroke.

  “Damion—” Requiem had been about to tell him to wait, but the hand around his flaccid organ interrupted him, stifling his words in a strangled gasp. His fingers tightened on Damion’s shoulders in shock.

  “You like it.” Damion chuckled darkly, reaching farther between Requiem’s legs to tug on the soft sac of his scrotum.

  “I do n—ah!” Requiem couldn’t seem to get out a full sentence, his body jumping at the skilled fingers on sensitive parts. “I do not understand,” he finally managed to squeeze out. “And I do not know if my body can react the way you seem to want it to.”

  “You’re feeling good, that’s all I can ask.” Damion licked at Requiem’s slowly bruising neck, savoring the taste of the pale skin. “Turn over.”

  Once Damion was out of the way, Requiem did as he was ordered and moved to his hands and knees. He knew that this was what Damion wanted. Looking back over his shoulder, he watched what Damion would do next.

  Damion opened the lube, spreading a generous amount over his fingers. He rubbed Requiem’s small ring of muscle with a single digit before slowly pushing it into Requiem’s body. “I am going to put it here. Where you’re tight and hot.”

  “A-affirmative,” Requiem replied hesitantly, but he didn’t tense against Damion’s probing finger. He realized that while his mind did not remember what they had done together in the past, his body must have, because it was acting on its own.

  Damion moved his finger in and out quickly. “Breathe, Requiem, then it won’t hurt as much.”

  Requiem hadn’t noticed until then that he had been holding his breath, and he let it out in an easy rush. “This feels… familiar,” he managed to say past the tightness in his chest. His body was remembering things with shivers of past pleasures and current ones spawned by Damion’s subtle movements inside him.

  “It should.” Damion quickly added a second finger and twisted them. “It will burn and hurt at first.”

  “But… not like in the past, where I bled. Only a little this time?” Requiem looked over his shoulder to speak, intrigued by the excited and dark heat in Damion’s eyes.

  “I will do my very best to not hurt you.” Damion kissed the pale left shoulder as he pushed the two fingers deeper inside Requiem’s clenching body, finding that small circle of nerves to tease.

  That got Requiem’s attention, and he hissed in surprise, letting his head fall forward and his forehead brush the pillow. He fisted his hands in the sheets on either side of the soft pillow as he tensed, clenching around Damion’s fingers. “What is…?” He paused, a flicker of memory brightening and then dimming. “Sweet spot,” he mumbled.

  “Yeah, it’s a sweet spot.” Damion pulled his fingers out, and Requiem again watched him pour more of the shiny, slick lube on them before he pushed in three digits. “Don’t hold your breath.”

  Requiem released the air trapped in his lungs again, trying to relax, but every time Damion’s fingers caused pulses of dull pleasure to speed through his system he tensed. Soon he was panting, rocking back against the digits unconsciously, wanting more.

  Damion withdrew his fingers one last time and slicked his cock with the remaining lube on his hand. “I want to hear you say that you will only obey me.” He pushed the purple crown of his engorged cock against Requiem’s hole.

  Trembling with some unknown emotion, Requiem looked over his shoulder as he felt the pressure against his entrance. His mind was torn again, flitting back and forth between duty and what he wanted, who he wanted to obey—which was Damion. But then there was his training, his loyalties to the Corporation. They told him to obey his Fighter, but they also said that their orders took precedence over the Fighter’s when there was a disparity. While the headache didn’t come back, confusion warred within him. Muddled thoughts and decisions slipped from his reach. “Damion…,” he whispered, hearing the indecision and struggle apparent in his voice.

  “Tell me.” Damion gave a hard thrust, driving himself deep into Requiem’s body in one fast push of his hips.

  Requiem’s head fell as he let out an involuntary scream of pain. Blazing fire flared throughout his whole body, causing him to tremble. Even though Damion had mostly prepared him, that first thrust was a bit too much. Requiem had had worse, much worse, but the pain still settled in him as a throbbing burn originating from his anus and traveling up his spine. “
You. I obey you!” Requiem forced out, the words a sob.

  “Tight! Damn it, relax a bit.” Damion stopped moving, no doubt because Requiem’s body was clenching in spasms around him. “It won’t hurt for long.”

  “I… apologize.” Requiem shivered, his fingers clutching at the sheets beneath him even more, wrinkling them in a tight grip. He attempted to relax around Damion’s penis and eventually ended up with his torso on the bed, his ass high in the air.

  Damion rubbed his hands up and down Requiem’s heaving sides. “Are you really sorry, or are you just saying it because it fits the situation?” He pulled out partially only to immediately push back inside. “I want you back. I want you to remember what I remember. I want you back.”

  “I truly am sorry. I do not wish to upset you,” Requiem said right before his breath caught in his throat. He hiccupped around the sudden gasp as pleasure flared through him. The head of Damion’s cock continuously rolled over that spot inside him, causing a wondrous feeling to spread through his body, pushing back the pain.

  Damion’s right hand squeezed Requiem’s hip with enough force that Requiem was sure he was going to leave marks peppering his pale flesh.

  “You won’t obey them. You’ll only obey me.” Damion brutally snapped his hips forward again. “Say it.”

  Requiem cried out from the mix of pleasure and pain, his hips shying away from the harsh grip of Damion’s fingers. “You ask me the same thing they ask!” he insisted while gasping for breath, trying to make Damion understand that it was something he couldn’t promise. “I cannot lie to either you or the Creators. I must obey both.”

  “No, you have a choice. You’re not a slave.” Damion leaned down and bit into the patch of skin between Requiem’s neck and shoulder, making another claiming mark on his Core.

  Gasping, Requiem unconsciously tilted his head, allowing Damion better access to his neck. He felt pressure near his groin and knew that the unexpected was happening. Despite all the chemicals in his system, he was getting an erection.