Chrysalis Corporation

by T. A. Venedicktov

  “I guess you have a point.” Damion groaned and let go of Requiem’s hair, placing his palms on the bed to give himself more leverage. “Touch yourself.”

  “Touch myself? Where?” Requiem looked up into Damion’s looming face that dripped drops of salty water onto his skin, causing him to shiver even more. He unwound his arms from Damion’s broad shoulders and slid his hands over Damion’s neck and chest to grip the muscular arms braced around him.

  “Your cock.” Damion chuckled as he gently touched it in encouragement, then licked his lips, angling his hips in the way that made Requiem scream. “Do you know how unbelievably gorgeous you look covered in sweat and sex?”

  Damion’s movements and instinct proved to be correct as Requiem let out a short, soft scream, his head tilting back into the pillows as he arched slightly off the bed. Panting harshly, he did as Damion ordered and brought a shaky hand to his erection, wrapping long fingers around it, causing him to jump as his ecstasy increased. He bit his lip against a groan. Damion’s thrusts into him caused Requiem’s erection to move in and out of the circle his hand created. Remembering what Damion had done to him earlier, he moved his hand, copying those movements to produce spectacular results.

  “Requiem.” Damion’s voice was near reverent as he kept thrusting, moving harder and faster. He leaned down onto his elbows to capture Requiem’s lips in a sloppy kiss.

  Requiem very nearly purred into his mouth as pressure built within his body—that familiar, wondrous, heated pressure that licked throughout his system from his groin to his toes. His hand began to move faster along his need, sweat and dribbling precome making the movement slick and smooth.

  As Requiem clenched him tightly, Damion didn’t hold back his voice or stop the assault until the bunk’s mattress actually began to move from the wild thrusts. Damion’s arms began to shake, his heart beating nearly out of his chest as he pressed into Requiem.

  After releasing his free hand from around Damion’s arm, Requiem moved it so that his fingers tangled in pitch-black hair, grasping the back of Damion’s head. The pressure became too much, sending tingling ecstasy throughout him and causing him to let out a soft, choking scream. His body clenched around Damion as Requiem came for the second time that night.

  Damion’s hips moved until he was spent and his release pushed deep inside Requiem once more. Finally Damion rolled to his side, while Requiem still clenched his hand in Damion’s hair.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Requiem

  DAMION LAUGHED once he caught his breath. “Guess I need a haircut.”

  Requiem shivered, hiccupping in surprise as Damion pulled out of him abruptly and rolled to the side. Sticky wetness already began to leak out of his hole and onto the sheets. As soon as he realized it, he released Damion’s hair, letting his arm drop bonelessly to his side. “I apologize,” he whispered in a husky voice, bringing his hand into view in front of his eyes, watching through unfocused eyes the result of his own passion trail down and web through his fingers.

  “You have nothing to apologize for. It was fantastic.” Damion chuckled as he watched Requiem. “You really that fascinated?”

  Requiem turned to meet Damion’s gaze and his vision came a bit more into focus. “I would not say that it is fascination. It is nothing I have ever felt before, and it is… intriguing,” he attempted to explain, not really understanding it himself. He understood the human body and that the purpose of ejaculation was primarily for procreation, but he had never been told that it could feel so… exquisite.

  “You are intriguing.” Damion rolled onto his back before sitting up and picking up his underwear. “Here. It isn’t much, but it will do.”

  Requiem took a moment to study Damion’s body, momentarily focusing on Damion’s tattoo. Their uniforms covered most of their bodies and Damion rarely wore anything that did not cover his upper biceps, so it wasn’t often that he saw the ink. The design was unique with the wings emerging from Earth, making complete sense. Chrysalis: a beautiful, changed being breaking out of its cocoon.

  Looking away, he took the fabric and cleaned his hand and eventually his chest and stomach. The time spent wiping the inside of his legs was quick—most of it was on the sheets now anyway. “You will need new sheets. I cannot foresee you resting comfortably on all this moisture,” Requiem pointed out.

  “We can worry about that after morning meals.” Damion took the soiled boxers and tossed them back to the ground. Wrapping his arms around Requiem, he gave him a slow and passionate kiss.

  Requiem sighed, curling his body against Damion’s. This kind of kiss was… nice. He never knew there were different kinds of kisses. He had appreciated the hot, lustful ones. The ones that were demanding of his mouth, taking what they wanted, which he accepted with definitely no protests. But this one was warm, and it heated his skin from head to toe.

  “I never thought kissing another man would make me this fucking happy, but here we are.” Damion smiled as he rested his forehead against Requiem’s.

  “Do you ever regret that I am not a female?” Requiem asked, his nose touching Damion’s.

  “Not really. It may have made it a bit easier in the beginning to accept all of it, but now I really can’t get you out of my mind.”

  “I am… a distraction?”

  “Yeah, you can say that, but not in a bad way.” Damion shrugged. “Don’t worry.”

  Requiem thought about it for a moment. “Do I distract you when you are piloting or fighting?”

  “Not usually, only since this shit with the Creators started the last few weeks.” Damion made lazy patterns over Requiem’s skin with his fingers, marveling at the toned muscles and silky texture.

  Requiem trembled at the featherlike touch, goose bumps appearing on his skin. “As long as that is all, it is fine. And as long as your levels improve over the next week, else they will force me to choose a new Fighter, which would not be acceptable. Then we would be in trouble because we would have to figure out something immediately.”

  “Don’t worry about my performance.” Damion frowned and propped his head up with his hand. “We need to find a way to fool them so they don’t pick up on your changes again.”

  “I do not know how I will go about it. I am still taking full supplements and jacking in for rest. I do not know if they will notice my personality change otherwise. Honestly, I do not remember how they realized it previously, so I cannot hypothesize a theory.” His eyes closed under Damion’s gentle fingers.

  “I hate the way you react while on those damn supplements,” Damion grumbled and tugged on Requiem’s hair. “Cut back on them.”

  Requiem went silent, wincing from a pain in his head that wasn’t from the tug on his hair as he fought against a compulsion in his mind. “I do… not believe… I can. Contradicting.” His brow furrowed as a dull headache developed toward the back of his skull.

  “Yes, you can. I know you can do anything. That is what you say all the fucking time. You’re the best, and nothing is impossible.” Damion let go of Requiem’s hair and pulled him in for another kiss.

  Requiem gave a quiet “umph” against Damion’s mouth. His eyes came back into focus. Sighing into the kiss, he slowly raised his hands and gently placed them on both sides of Damion’s face, merely cradling it with his fingertips as if he were afraid to touch him completely.

  Damion pulled back only slightly, and they were so close it was hard to focus on anything but Damion’s nose.

  “You can do it,” Damion said.

  “It will put us both in danger when I am collected again in seven days. They will see that my supplement levels are not at full and discharge you. We cannot take any risks. I am not saying it is impossible. I am saying it is illogical.” Requiem spoke in a forced voice, his gaze meeting Damion’s.

  “You are just stubborn.” Damion sat up and moved away from the bed. “I don’t want to put you in danger, but I can’t stand it.”

  Once Damion got out of bed, Requiem sat u
p and put his feet on the floor. “Then you must make a decision. A decision that I cannot know about, so you must merely implement the decision without informing me. If the Creators ask me questions, I can circumvent them to the best of my abilities, but if they suspect something, they will continue to ask until there is no other way but to answer them.” He watched Damion’s back as he walked over to get some water.

  Damion groaned. “How do you make everything tilt on its axis ass-backwards in a second? You could just lie.”

  “As I have told you frequently, I cannot. Even if I attempted to, they would know that I am doing so. Whether it is by body language or my vital signs. While I can control my heartbeat and reactions to an extent, the Creators do not use topical means of studying them. They use our ports, and the tools they use can sense even the smallest fluctuation.”

  “Then make the computer tell them what you want them to see. You can do that, right?” Damion returned and handed him a bottle.

  “For that to happen, I either need to be jacked in to tell them or at least have a tactile connection, and unfortunately it is obvious when I merge with the system.” Requiem took the bottle. For a few moments he thought about the problem Damion had put in front of him. “But that would be a way to hide some aspects when I am jacked in to the pod. I should be able to mask myself there. Create a loop with a few random variables to make it seem live.” His last words trailed off in a mumble as he stared at his pod, thinking.

  “You are not plugging in for another few hours.” Damion growled. “You can wait to play while I am out tomorrow.”

  Requiem tore his gaze away from the pod, blinking at Damion in confusion. “If I do not plug in today, no amount of circumventing the system will help us because they will merely come and take me. They are already cautious about letting me near you because they suspect that you will attempt to take me off my supplement or harm me out of frustration. They do not want me hindered from perfecting the Ares. If I do not plug in to rest, they will assume the worst and use it as an excuse.”

  “Then just plug in long enough to report that I needed you for physical satisfaction. They can report that to the Commander.”

  “The Creators do not report to anyone. They merely oblige the Commander by giving him reports when he requests them.” Requiem took a long pull of water, emptying half the bottle. “But if that is your command, I will do so.” He stood, placing the bottle on the table as he walked over to his capsule.

  “Don’t take too long,” Damion said gruffly.

  “As you wish.” Requiem slipped into the capsule, lying back against its supports. He opened up the console panel on the edge of it and pressed his fingers into the lighted divots. A second later he gasped, his eyes widening for a moment as his spine bowed slightly before everything went lax and his eyes closed as he dove into a world of darkness, racing lights, energy, and information.

  Requiem remained in the capsule for a little over an hour. During that time he created a loop, taking samples from scans of his vital signs and mental patterns for the last two weeks and rearranging them through the pulses. It was a fairly simple job, but extremely tedious because he had to hide what he was doing from the current scan. At the same time, he was receiving information about the next day’s assignments and other news. It all required his mind to be in three places at once, so when Requiem finally extracted himself from the system, his eyes fluttering open as he took a deep breath, he was tired.

  He remained in the capsule for a few minutes, trying to remember how to breathe normally as he blinked blearily, processing the information he had received.

  “You okay? You eat recently?” Damion picked him up gently in his arms, turning toward the bed. “I don’t want you in that damn capsule any longer than necessary,” he grumbled.

  Requiem gasped as Damion lifted him. The input jacks were still plugged in to his ports and pulled painfully. “Wait!” he choked out as the cables started to pull, one hand scrabbling at Damion’s chest while the other reached for the capsule. He managed to quickly flip open the console and touch the scanner. Requiem gave a little hiccup of a whimper again as the chords automatically unhooked and retracted from his ports after he gave the command. Once done, he sighed in relief, sagging a bit in his lover’s arms. He licked his lips, swallowing, his mouth dry. “When the cables plug in, they flare out, hooking into the input ports. Unless I key in and retract them, they can potentially rip out the ports.”

  “That would have been good to know. You hurt?” Damion looked to see if he was bleeding.

  “No, I do not believe so. They merely pulled mildly. I am acceptable.” Requiem rubbed at the port in the base of his skull.

  “I’m sorry.” Damion watched him for a few minutes after putting him on the bed, then handed him a fourth of a protein bar.

  “There is no need to apologize. You did not know.” Requiem looked at the bar and took it cautiously, then chewed on it slowly. “I need to go down to the mess hall and retrieve my supplement. Even if I do not want to eat all of it, I still require what it contains.” One hand on the back of his head continued to massage the abused port. “Additionally, I received some news and our orders for tomorrow. Patrol has been increased to a higher status as the President of the Planetary Worlds, Jasper Barlett, will be arriving on board for an inspection in four days’ time at approximately 1300 hours.”

  “That is the very opposite of fun.” Damion shook his head. “Means everyone will be sucking up, even the Commander. I can go get your gruel if you want.”

  Requiem thought for a moment as he finished off the rest of the bar. “I apologize if I am overstepping my bounds, but do you think it is wise for you to go alone? The event that occurred yesterday was more than likely a setup by the Commander to get you in confinement. I do not know, but I hypothesize that if you are seriously reprimanded one more time, it will not matter if your scores improve. They will take you away from me.”

  “That would make you sad?” Damion grinned. “I promise not to get into a fight. Besides, I want you safe in here behind a locked door. Also, you might be too sore.”

  “To walk? I am not the one they are attacking at this moment,” Requiem said, tilting his head slightly. He assessed his physical situation. “I will admit that I am feeling the effects, but I am still acceptable.”

  “I can get your meal and be back in ten minutes.” Damion ruffled the top of Requiem’s head. “You just stay here and relax like a normal person for that time.”

  “If that is what you wish, I will do so.” Requiem leaned up against the wall to the side of the small bed.

  Damion found pants and a shirt along with his boots and headed out to the mess hall. “Lock this room down and no one enters unless it’s me.”

  Requiem nodded in response as he watched Damion walk away.

  As soon as Damion left, Requiem slipped back into the capsule. Working with speed, he jacked in, slipping into the security system to watch Damion. He wanted to make sure that there was no security team released to collect either himself or Damion and that there was no danger lurking around the corner for him.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Damion

  DAMION MADE it to the mess hall to retrieve their lunch and requested an extra ration for the evening, along with Requiem’s supplement, so that he wouldn’t have to leave their quarters later to retrieve more food. Even if he wanted to throw the gruel out, he knew he shouldn’t, so he didn’t, but damn, would it have helped his mood. He felt like people were watching him, and it made his skin crawl.

  After Damion used the door chime, Requiem opened it for Damion so that he didn’t have to shuffle the trays.

  “Oh, you’re still up? Figured you would fall asleep.” Damion looked around the room.

  “I do admit that I am weary, but I wanted to make sure that you returned without any issues.” Requiem locked the door after them and went back to sit on the edge of the bare mattress. He was still naked, obviously not seeing any point in getting d
ressed. Clever man.

  “You worry as much as I do.” Damion laughed lightly as he sat beside him after placing the trays on the table.

  “I am merely cautious,” Requiem replied, looking toward the food.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Currently nothing is wrong, other than the obvious encompassing problems. But for now, nothing.” Requiem turned to look at him.

  Damion shook his head. “All right, why are you staring at the food?”

  “Because in general I do not find enjoyment in consuming it. However, I know I must do so to keep energy in my body. It is merely the effort of getting up and doing so that I am debating at this time.”

  “You seemed to enjoy it while we were on leave.” Damion sighed as he gave a light tug on Requiem’s soft hair.

  Requiem looked at him for a moment, then stood up slowly, walking over to the table and sitting down. He picked up his spoon and began to eat his tasteless meal.

  “IT’S REALLY all gone, huh? All our private moments.” Damion had asked too many times, but he still couldn’t believe it. He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he mentally wiped his last question away to ask another. “What will our job be while the President is here?” He didn’t want to think about the pain in his chest at Requiem’s lost memories. “Hopefully just patrolling around the ship?”

  “Far patrol in the outreaching sector for eight-hour shifts. Eight hours on and off for the tenure that the President is here.”

  “Eh, could be worse.” Damion shrugged, concerned with more than what their patrol was. “What time do we have first round?”

  “In approximately ten hours,” Requiem stated, taking his disposable tray over to the trash receptacle.

  “And you don’t want to sleep in the same bed as me?” Damion didn’t like the idea of Requiem sleeping in the pod but didn’t want to make him stay awake in bed with him just because Damion wanted him there, because then Requiem would be sluggish when they flew out.