Chrysalis Corporation

by T. A. Venedicktov

  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.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sunday August 21, 454 MC

  0536 GMT

  Damion

  DAMION HAD fallen into a fitful sleep. He missed the days when he could drink all night and sleep like the dead until the next afternoon. What finally woke him up was Juni. Juni’s loud, annoying voice screaming into his ear and shaking him harder than a Saturn meteor strike.

  “Wake up! I need to talk to you!”

  “For fuck’s sake, what is it?” Damion smacked Juni’s arms away.

  “I, uh, I had a lot to drink,” Juni babbled, suddenly shy and quiet with eyes that looked at everything but Damion.

  “Yeah, and?” Damion scrubbed his face and looked around for his Core.

  Requiem had been the one to let Juni inside. He followed Juni into the bedroom and winced as Juni proceeded to wake his Fighter in a way that wasn’t very pleasant.

  Damion was still blinking blearily. He saw Requiem placing a glass of water and a dose of Clear Head on the bedside table while Juni was still babbling.

  “How drunk would you say I was?” Juni asked in a shaky voice.

  Damion gave Juni a befuddled look after thanking Requiem for the water and pill. “Pretty drunk, but not enough to puke on yourself. Close, but not that close. Why?”

  “I… well….” Juni licked his lips and looked nervously between Requiem and Damion.

  Damion had a headache, but he wasn’t brain-dead. He could tell Juni was uncomfortable with Requiem around, which was odd in itself because usually he didn’t mind blurting out his heart in front of the Cores. “Will you go check on 108, please?” Damion asked Requiem with a gentle smile.

  Damion noted Juni’s refusal to look directly at him. Requiem frowned slightly, a mere pursing of his lips. He nodded. “As you order.”

  Requiem

  REQUIEM LEFT the room quickly. It was barely six in the morning, GMT, but the servants of the household were already up. He kept his gaze down, hoping that no one would stop him. No one did as he reached Juni and 108’s room and knocked gently on the door, waiting for 108 to answer. When 108 didn’t after a few moments, Requiem keyed the door open and slipped into the dark room.

  His gaze immediately fell on 108, highlighted by the bathroom light as he stood in the doorway of it. All 108 was wearing was a pair of boxers that appeared hastily tugged on. His body was taut with tension.

  Requiem walked over and gently grasped 108’s arm. 108 didn’t resist as Requiem pulled him back into the large bathroom and pushed the door closed behind them.

  Getting 108 under good light so he could see him better, Requiem looked over the dark skin, assessing his physical condition. Those steel gray eyes looked slightly glazed, and 108’s full lips looked to be a combination of reddened, fuller, and maybe a little bruised. There were bite marks dusting 108’s neck, shoulder, chest, and sides. He knew humans called those marks hickeys. Requiem turned him to see if there were any other marks, any signs of abuse, and saw none.

  He finally met those nervous eyes with his own. “Did Fighter Mathis hurt you?” he asked softly.

  108’s eyes widened slightly for half a second before he shook his head. “No,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.

  “Did he rape you?” Yet again, Requiem received a shake of 108’s head. “Was it consensual? Did you want to?”

  A pause and then a slight, barely perceivable smile and a nod. Requiem responded with his own nod, releasing 108’s arm. “Are you acceptable?”

  “Very” was the husky response.

  And now it was Requiem’s turn for a widening of eyes and a tilt of his head, a moment’s contemplation. “Good. My Fighter sent me to check on you. Not only to make sure if you were in an acceptable condition, but also because Fighter Juni would not converse with him while I was in the room. Do you need help getting dressed?”

  “No. Thank you,” 108 replied and then looked down. “I require a shower.”

  “Then do so. I will go back. Contact me if you have need of me.”

  “Very well.”

  Requiem left, even more confused than he had been before he went to sleep.

  Requiem

  “I THINK I fucked 108,” Juni blurted out only seconds after Damion took his pill.

  Damion sputtered and coughed, likely gagging on the pill he had just swallowed, followed by the sound of his cup crashing down onto the nearest surface. “You what?”

  “I woke up and we were naked and he looked, you know, how women look after you screw them all night long… and hard.” Juni swallowed audibly after he squeaked out the confession.

  “You bastard!” Damion grabbed Juni’s shoulders.

  “Wait! Wait! I didn’t mean to!” Juni threw his hands up to ward off the intended beating. “And he didn’t look, you know—hurt or anything.”

  “He is not,” Requiem said from the doorway, having overheard them as he entered the room. “He is perfectly acceptable.” He paused for a moment, thinking back to his encounter with 108. “A few bite marks, and he is walking a bit differently, however.”

  Juni turned red and began sputtering. “I-I can explain, I mean, I don’t need to really, but I—”

  “For the love of the fucking Earth! You’re a complete idiot.” Damion let Juni go and sat back with his head in his hands. “You came back quick,” he told Requiem.

  “There was no need to remain. Once I was assured that 108 was not harmed nor forced to do anything against his will, I returned. He was planning to take a shower when I left, and I expedited my return so he could do so. He did not need my assistance. If you wish, I will wait out in the sitting room until you have further need of me.” Requiem turned away as soon as he finished speaking, to spare Juni the embarrassment of having to face him. He wal
ked to the side of the room and began to pull out their clothing for the day.

  “No, no just… get ready for the day.” Damion waved a hand, and he appeared unable to look at Juni. “I should have drunk more.”

  “Huh?” Juni sat up and gave him a confused look. “But… what do I do?”

  “What do you mean ‘what do you do’?” Damion glared at him. “You better not screw around or I’ll kick your ass.”

  “Screw around? What? Are you saying I have to date him?” Juni sounded scared, his eyes wide and his voice high.

  “Do not hurt him,” Requiem insisted before he could help it. He snapped his mouth shut, clenching his jaw from anything else he might say. His gaze flicked from Juni to Damion, unnerved if he may have crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

  “I won’t… yet,” Damion said, still giving Juni a heavy stare as Juni said at the same time, “I didn’t plan on it.”

  “I was speaking to Fighter Mathis,” Requiem told Damion. He held the folded clothing against his chest as he sat on the edge of the bed. “If I may speak freely?” He paused, his eyes flicking to Damion before turning his gaze to the comforter. “108 did not mind what you did, not at all. He said it was consensual. 108’s life up until this point was full of unpleasant experiences, and he does not view this one as such. It does not… please me that you seem not to remember the experience, but I do not see why it should not happen again if you both choose. Just… do not hurt him. Physically… but emotionally as well.”

  “Did I just get relationship advice from a Core?” Juni quipped.

  That earned him a firm smack to the back of his head from Damion.

  “Ow!”

  “Listen to him,” Damion said. “It’s not good you had drunk sex with 108, but now you have to take responsibility for it. Got it?”

  “What a vacation,” Juni whined, rubbing his head.

  Requiem gritted his teeth, keeping his mouth shut before he told Juni that if he didn’t want to deal with the situation, then he shouldn’t have caused it. “You need to get some more sleep, Damion. As does Fighter Mathis. It has only been approximately two hours and twenty-seven minutes since you arrived back from your night out. And I am sure that 108 needs the rest as well.”

  Juni huffed. “I’ll stop by the kitchen and tell them we won’t be needing breakfast, then do my fucking best to avoid my mother and father so I don’t have to explain anything. Just get up when you want and come to my room, and we’ll eat out.” Juni sounded less harried than when he had first arrived, but he also sounded almost saddened now.

  “Don’t be a complete idiot and try and pretend it didn’t happen,” Damion warned.

  Requiem’s gaze flicked up to Juni and then back down. “He did not mind, Fighter Juni. You have been the first person to ever touch him with kindness. He trusts you, and not only because you are his Fighter. He trusts you as a person.”

  “Thanks.” Juni gave Requiem a small smile. “See you two in a few hours.”

  Damion watched him trudge off. “That, I should have seen coming.”

  “I do not see how you could have,” Requiem said, pushing Damion so that he was lying back down. He pulled the blanket up to Damion’s chin. “I advise getting some more rest. The Clear Head will only work for a little longer without true rest.”

  Requiem slid off the bed to stand, but Damion reached out and caught his hand. “Where are you going?”

  Requiem’s gaze moved from Damion’s grip up to his face. “Back to bed myself, if that is all right with you?”

  “No. Sleep here.”

  Requiem paused a moment, his gaze on Damion’s hand again. “As you wish,” he finally replied, sitting back down on the bed.

  Damion wrapped one arm around him, looking so happy that Requiem didn’t say no. Closing his eyes, Damion took a deep breath and then let it out. “If I had been as drunk as Juni, that could have been me, and that wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

  “To whom? You are the one who keeps saying that you wished you had been more inebriated all evening,” Requiem pointed out, relaxing against Damion’s warmth.

  “I don’t know.” Damion’s voice sounded pained.

  “Forgive me for saying so, but I must admit that you are more confusing than you claim me to be at times.”

  “I think that’s because of the emotions I’m plagued with, and you’re simply confused by them.”

  “I will not suggest ignoring them, for that is how we got into a disagreement last time.” Requiem sat up, his gaze lowered so that he focused on Damion’s neck. “Do not worry about 108. When I saw him, he was… content, or as happy as our type can be. I feel as if he finally found some semblance of peace in his life.”

  “How do you feel about it all?” Damion reached out to gently tip Requiem’s chin up.

  Requiem appeared to honestly think about it for a moment, keeping his eyes from Damion. “I am… content with it. I am pleased that 108 is finally becoming his own person instead of the tool he was before. He is beginning to think for himself, to make his own decisions. And Fighter Juni’s exuberance and kindness are what he needs, even if they are vexing to you at times.”

  “It’s because he doesn’t use that thing called a brain unless he’s flying,” Damion grumbled and then continued in a stern voice. “Look at me, dammit! You’re making me feel bad.”

  “I did not mean to,” Requiem replied softly, fighting the hold on his chin.

  “Then just come out and say what is on your mind!” Damion let out a frustrated sigh.

  “I feel that I have already said everything I wanted to say.” Requiem’s hand rose to grip Damion’s wrist under where he was holding his chin. “Everything else is… too confusing to form into complete thoughts.”

  Damion let go of him. “Maybe sleep would help both of us.”

  Letting out a soft sigh, Requiem nodded, releasing Damion’s wrist almost reluctantly. “As you wish.”

  Sometimes Requiem was so frustrated by how he was unable to describe what he was feeling inside. So vexed that he was never taught the words that corresponded with certain emotions, making it impossible to explain things clearly. Because he was feeling more and more every day. More things that he did not understand.

  “Damion,” Requiem finally whispered after a long silence. “Are you still confused? Still trying to come up with an answer?”

  “Answer? I know what I want.” Damion groaned in apparent frustration, “I sound like a cliché. I wonder what you want.”

  “What… I… want?” Requiem sounded, yet again, confused. That was one emotion, feeling, that he could definitely identify and he was becoming displeased with it. “I am meant to want whatever you do.”

  Damion shook his head. “That isn’t the same thing.”

  Requiem shifted, moving under the covers with him. The chill finally got to him. He lay alongside Damion, soaking in his warmth. “How do you know it is not?”

  “I, uh, don’t?” Damion pulled him closer

  “Exactly. Nor do I know what you want since you did not previously know what you wanted yourself. So how do I know whether you would like me to stay here with you, or whether you’d like me to leave and go sleep somewhere else?” Requiem asked quietly, his head on Damion’s chest, his eyes hidden by his hair. He himself had no idea what he was saying, didn’t really know what he wanted besides Damion’s warmth, kindness, and tenderness. He would do anything to make Damion content. He paused, licked his lips, and swallowed down another feeling he couldn’t identify. “I want whatever you want, Damion. Not only because it is my place as a Core to think this way but because I want you to be happy, content, and would do anything to have you be so.”

  “That makes me happy, except that isn’t you saying you’re ready to have sex either.” Damion sounded disappointed.

  “Is that what you wish?” Requiem asked almost inaudibly. “I… do not know anything about sex in the definition you’ve given me.”

  “It’s… I don’t know. It�
�s sex.” Damion groaned. “It can be great, really great, but not if both people aren’t into it.”

  As Requiem leaned up, he balanced himself with a hand on either side of Damion’s shoulders. “Then what do you wish for? You put your mouth on mine, but each time you regret it or wish you were more inebriated. I cannot tell you what you want, nor can I tell you what I want, for I do not quite know what you speak of when you say ‘consensual.’ All my experiences were not, so how am I to know? I have nothing to draw a logical conclusion or hypothesis from.”

  Requiem was confused, frustrated, and tired with the whole situation.

  “Just… tell me when you want to have sex,” Damion said quickly.

  Blinking, Requiem looked down at him, and frowned a little. “I… do not understand. How does one make these types of decisions? How does one know when it is time to do so? Is this what you wish for me to do?”

  “That is sort of the problem I’m having,” Damion grumbled.

  For the first time, Requiem made a small growl of frustration. Bending his arms, he pushed into a sitting position. “If you cannot even understand it, how am I, a Core, supposed to? You are the one with emotions. The one who can understand them, know what they are. You are the one with the answers. I do not see how I am supposed to know these things and make even a plausible theory out of it.” He sighed, turning his face away. “This is probably why the Corporation kept us from learning about them. In the end, computers and the system are easier to understand. More rational.”

  “For once I agree with you.” Damion sat up as well. “Look, that is why I haven’t made you have sex with me, all right? I know it’s supposed to be one of your functions, but I don’t want you to feel forced or obligated. I wished I had drunk more to give me more false courage to go through with it, but I can’t risk you reverting back to the way you were.”

  “That is no longer an option,” Requiem replied, suddenly very tired. “The way I have become since I chose you is something that will not go away. It is a result of not eating full portions of the supplement.” He said those words in his normal tone, but it was obviously casual, almost flippant. “And you have rarely forced me to participate in something I was not willing to do in the first place.”