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Devoted - Merritt's Story 2 - Chapter 24 [nsfw]
🕑 Added 2020-06-18 05:06:00 +0000 UTCNew chapter! Don't forget, we have back-to-back chapters, so ch25 will go up next Thursday! NSFW warning for this one.
As always, you can read the chapter inline or download the attached PDF. And here's the DOTU Discord if you want to chat with each other about the latest chapter! Make sure to link your Discord account to Patreon so you can get access to the Merritt's Story channel!
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Book 2, Chapter 24
It had been a while since Merritt had last woken up to the feeling of jagged shale impressed into his back. After six hours of sleep in the neutral territory caves, he was starting to miss his limp, shabby mattress back home.
Yesterday, he’d bounced from Archer’s suite to Torrence’s hideout to Soft Sloth Coffee. Once he’d sent off the materials for the news bomb, he’d returned to the caves thinking a few hours of sleep in a safe, secluded hideout would leave him refreshed. During his years as a private, he’d almost enjoyed making his bed among the stalagmites. But today, he woke up sore. Life as an officer was making him soft.
It was past two in the afternoon, and he was overdue for a meal. He unearthed some nearly expired rations from his rucksack, and his ravenous hunger tricked him into believing the slop tasted better than he knew it did. Nothing felt lonelier than eating unheated food from a tin, alone in the dim glow of his flashlight. Balbo’s squad had remained outside the caves. With the dangerous terrain, they couldn’t have followed Merritt to his sleeping spot if they’d wanted to.
Risky as it was, Merritt’s first move upon leaving the caves was to return Nicolet’s tie and retrieve his own from the West Sphere border. He couldn’t stomach the thought of dragging his subordinates any deeper into his mess, and now that the news bomb was in the works, hiding behind another soldier seemed more cowardly than practical. He dismissed his guard detail against Balbo’s objections, assuring her over the phone that he had things under control.
He returned to the North Sphere, taking a long ride through the caves and tunnels leading up to the hidden pond. He didn’t trust his old, worn-out military bike to handle the final jumps, but he doubted any of Wilson’s henchmen, not even that skilled cargo bike rider, could follow him past the first few obstacles.
From a cliff overlooking a gentle waterfall, he called in to his aide and lieutenant general to make sure everything was in order with the military. Whether or not his life was in danger, he couldn’t shirk his responsibilities as general. Tomorrow, Monday, he’d be back in the office, but today he could handle matters by phone.
The calls took two hours. Then, obligations met, he considered his next move. He couldn’t hide forever, but he didn’t want to expose himself until he had to be back at work. If Wilson wanted to assassinate him, Merritt would make it as messy as possible. Let Wilson try to off him in the middle of a board meeting, or in the crowded hallways of the Station 1 military base. Anything Wilson attempted could be used as further proof of guilt once the news bomb was out—but only if there were witnesses.
That left him with sixteen hours to kill before he’d have to get ready for work. Part of him yearned to call Belmont. But what would he say? By now he knew that Belmont wasn’t involved in Wilson’s project, but what excuse would Belmont have for letting the program continue unchallenged?
But if Merritt didn’t call him, then what? The news bomb could go off at any moment, and Merritt had no way of knowing which way the winds would blow once the word was out. He could think of a million different scenarios, and none ended with him and Belmont reconciling in peace and safety. If he didn’t call for Belmont now, would he ever have another chance?
His fingers hovered over the contact list on his phone, but he couldn’t get himself to tap Belmont’s name. He felt paralyzed, as if a wall stood before him, preventing him from reaching out.
He couldn’t do it.
Instead, he took a walk, then a run. He refreshed the news feed on his phone almost obsessively. It was a slow news day. He tried to read an ebook on his phone, but he could barely concentrate.
A few hours later, Archer came to his rescue. She sent him a text. You should sleep on my couch tonight. It’s safer.
Merritt didn’t want to impose, but he dreaded the thought of spending another night with only his thoughts for company. He accepted Archer’s invitation and arrived at her condo shortly after nine. She was dressed more casually than he’d ever seen her, in something that looked like a cross between scrubs and pajamas. Of course her nightgown would look like that.
Merritt felt oddly happy that she hadn’t thrown on a blue tie in order to greet him. Etiquette didn’t require her to wear a sphere identifier once she was dressed for bed, provided it was during the appropriate hours, but some people still threw their tie on over their night clothes if they suddenly had company. The fact that Archer hadn’t bothered with the tie suggested that she’d forgiven him for their past disagreements.
“I’ll put on some tea,” she said after he stepped inside. Then, looking him up and down, she added, “I can also have your laundry sent down. But I don’t have anything for you to change into, other than maybe a robe.”
She’d said it in her usual neutral tone, but Merritt could have sworn he’d seen a slight wrinkle in her nose. He wondered if she was having second thoughts about letting him lay his grimy body on her clinically clean couch. He looked down at his rumpled uniform, wondering if he wouldn’t feel weirder hanging out in Archer’s place in just a robe—possibly one of her robes.
“We can worry about that later,” Archer said, noting his hesitation. She headed for the stove and put on a pot of water. “What were you doing all day?”
“Hiding, mostly,” Merritt replied with a shrug. “Sleeping. No one tried to snipe me—not that it would make a difference. My plan is set, so it ultimately doesn’t matter whether I live to see it carried out.”
Archer squinted at him. “I think it would matter slightly.”
“I guess,” Merritt replied with a soft chuckle of concession.
“Your twenty-four hours aren’t technically expired yet, so I won’t interrogate you. But you’d better hope I’m asleep one hour from now when your time is up.” She gestured down the nearby hall. “Bathroom’s the first door on the left, if you want to wash up.”
Merritt took the hint. After ten minutes in a shower with jets that felt like they were designed not just to clean but to sterilize, Merritt turned off the water and immediately heard a knock so loud at the front door that it echoed in the bathroom.
He grabbed one of his pistols and stuck his head out of the bathroom door. The knocking escalated to pounding, and Archer held up a finger, motioning for Merritt to wait. She approached the door, then flipped open a small panel in the wall beside it. On the screen behind the panel, video surveillance played of the other side of the entrance. “It’s Belmont,” she whispered.
Merritt didn’t need to be told. He could make out the familiar silhouette from all the way across the room. His fingers twitched; then he lowered his gun.
“Shall I let him in? It’s your call.”
“He’s a right hand,” Merritt said. “Do you really have a choice?”
“There’s always a choice,” Archer replied, eyes narrowed as she allowed Merritt another glimpse of her sinister side. He had a feeling she was hiding at least one poison vial somewhere inside her pajamas.
Merritt shook his head. “No, let him in. I need to face him. Just give me a minute to get dressed.”
The pounding at the door continued while he threw his dirty clothes back on over his clean body, strapped on his weapons and poison packs, and returned to the lounge. Archer now had a blue tie draped around her neck, but her face remained neutral. Merritt gave her a nod, and she opened the door.
Belmont stood wild-eyed and fuming across the threshold, in stark contrast to Archer’s cool demeanor. His designer suit was creased like the ragged face of a limestone cliff. The points of his shirt collar stuck askew around the rumpled knot of his tie. He wasn’t wearing his hat, and his hair, usually impeccably combed and slicked to the side, hung disheveled in front of his eyes, the stray strands ending in weak curls. “Where is he?” he demanded before Archer could get a word out.
Merritt took a step forward. “I take it you mean me?”
Belmont met Merritt’s eyes, and for a moment that felt like a lifetime, he stared at Merritt in silence—brows scrunched, nostrils flared as if he were posturing for a face-off at the start of a sport fight instead of entering the condo of an elite blue-tie. Merritt stared back at him with his steadiest poker face, neutralizing Belmont’s heat with his chill.
Belmont stepped inside, and Archer closed the door behind him. She lingered against the wall, watching from a distance with narrowed, suspicious eyes.
Belmont stalked across the room, stopping only when he was close enough to hover threateningly over Merritt. “You have ignored every phone call and text I’ve sent you. I am your boss, Merritt. I am your commander. You do not ignore my correspondence. It is your job to answer to me.” His lip curled as he spat his final words: “Do I make myself clear?”
Merritt didn’t flinch. “Yes, Belmont,” he stated, almost insolently.
Belmont gritted his teeth, then clenched his fists. He looked ready to explode. Then, all at once, his theatre mask shattered. His scowl of fury melted into a gasp of desperate relief, and he pulled Merritt into an embrace so tight it took his breath away. He clutched Merritt with abandon, his breaths heavy and ragged. “I thought you were dead,” he whispered into Merritt’s ear.
Despite Merritt’s every intention of being coldly civil, and despite his acute awareness of Archer’s gaze on him from across the room, he felt his body soften against Belmont’s. For the first time, Belmont stood before him completely unguarded. No front, no performance. Merritt could feel the intensity of his emotion; it poured out of him as if he’d been harboring years’ worth of it.
When Wilson had claimed Belmont had panicked at the thought of him going after Merritt, Merritt hadn’t been sure what to believe. He’d thought maybe Wilson had exaggerated Belmont’s show of emotion to make him look weak by blue-tie standards. Now Merritt knew it wasn’t a lie—but Belmont didn’t look any weaker. Past the wild eyes and rumpled clothes, his emotion only made him look grounded and determined, like a tree that had cast its roots so deep it could no longer be felled with a single heavy wind.
“I tried everything to track you down,” Belmont whispered. “I was always just one step behind you. But then after you went into that lab….” He shook his head. “I thought he killed you. I thought she killed you. She works for him, you know.”
“Archer saved my life. And now I know everything—about the test program, about Wilson. About you calling him.” Merritt’s voice shook just a bit. “He said you tried to keep him from killing me.” He cleared his throat, then gave Belmont a teasing squint. “I would have expected you to do a better job.”
For a split second, Belmont’s eyes shimmered too bright. Then he shook his head and laughed. He loosened his grip, pulling back just far enough to line his lips up with Merritt’s. Merritt was too caught up in the moment to ask himself if it was a good idea. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Belmont and returned the kiss as if they were the only two people in the room.
When they parted, Belmont cradled his face. “You’re making my life a living hell, you know that?” he asked, then kissed Merritt again.
Merritt felt Archer watching him, but he didn’t care. All at once, he felt free. He felt real. The wall he’d felt between Belmont and himself had crumbled with Belmont’s mask.
“Mercury doesn’t include me in D&P stuff, you know,” Belmont said softly. “He thinks it’d make me too powerful. If I had anything to do with it, I wouldn’t be testing on fucking kids. I’d test on the board of advisors. We have enough duplicates of them to spare.”
Merritt chuckled softly. It was a start, but he needed Belmont to say more. He pulled a few inches away, staring up into Belmont’s eyes and challenging him to continue.
Belmont glanced at Archer, then back at Merritt, but Merritt’s gaze didn’t waver. Reluctantly, he cleared his throat. “So, listen…. What happened at the business district, in the medical office….”
Merritt gave him a soft shove. “Next time you don’t want me to do something, explain it to me instead of drugging me.”
“I’m the King’s right hand. There are things I’ll never be able to tell you.”
“Don’t drug me, though.”
Belmont returned a playful smirk. “I suppose that’s a reasonable request.” He gave Merritt another peck on the lips. Then he lowered his voice. “We gotta talk about this mess, Merritt. Let’s go back to my place.” He gestured derisively toward Archer’s lounge setup. “You don’t want to stay here overnight.”
“I’d recommend staying here,” Archer said from across the room, her tone so condescendingly pleasant it made the vein in Belmont’s forehead throb. “It’s far more secure than any suite at headquarters.”
“Since when?” Belmont snapped. “I’m a queen card. No one gets into my place without my say-so.”
Archer’s raise of the eyebrow clearly signaled that she thought Belmont was full of shit. But she remained silent, allowing Merritt to make his own decision.
“He and I really do need to talk,” Merritt said to Archer. “It’s nothing you’d want to overhear.” He turned back to Belmont and offered a borderline cocky smile. “And if someone tries to break in, they’ll have to bypass your guards, a security system, and a perpetual duty Chem Ops soldier.”
“Your call,” Archer replied evenly, and Merritt wondered if she was relieved not to have to deal with his filthy laundry.
He shooed Belmont toward the door. “I’ll be out in just a minute, okay?” He waited for Belmont to step outside, then sheepishly approached Archer. After an awkward pause, he said, “Just so you know, I didn’t lie to you before, when you asked if something was going on between Belmont and me. This happened after.”
Archer held up her hands. “You don’t need to explain your sex life to me, Merritt. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t.”
“You’re the one who asked about him and me.”
“Yes, and then I regretted it.” She shook her head. “I still think you have trouble separating yourself from your work. You put too much importance in the person you report to. I only hope you’re able to distinguish between what’s real and what’s just the job.”
“I know what’s real,” Merritt replied. “For the first time, I know.”
Archer gave a subtle shrug of concession. She stepped aside, and Merritt followed Belmont out.
* * *
They had all the self-control of teenagers left home alone. It was nearing twelve o’clock, and they’d used their lips for just about everything except talking. Merritt’s clothes hadn’t even made it to the laundry; instead they lay tangled with Belmont’s across the floor, mirroring his and Belmont’s intertwined bodies on the black leather couch. The last time Merritt had been on his back on Belmont’s sofa, he’d been high on Potent and just as helpless to his desires. This time, there would be no Archer to text him back to his senses.
He couldn’t blame any drug for the way he dug his fingertips into Belmont’s back, or the way Belmont squeezed him with all his might. Danger and uncertainty surrounded them like floodwaters, and they clung to each other knowing that the raging currents wanted nothing more than to tear them apart. None of Merritt’s doubts or worries about Belmont mattered anymore. He couldn’t risk letting Belmont go, or Belmont might slip away from him forever.
As Merritt lay within Belmont’s arms, he fought off the rising waves of cold dread. Archer had offered to out Wilson. Belmont was now by his side—on his side. But he’d already taken the nuclear option. The South’s news bomb could go off at any moment, and he had no way of knowing how catastrophic the results would be. One thing was for sure: once that bomb went off, nothing in the North would be the same.
He held tighter to Belmont, kissed him harder, but his heart didn’t slow. Would he take back his actions? No. Did he regret them? No. But there would be consequences.
He leaned forward, smothering Belmont with a ravenous kiss. Belmont let out a shocked gasp, then returned the kiss with just as much passion.
Merritt withdrew and sat up. His voice shaking with pent-up heat, he whispered, “What would you do if this was our last night together? Our last night alive?”
Belmont rose as well, then squinted at him. “What kind of question is that?”
Merritt couldn’t get himself to tell Belmont all that was on his mind. He couldn’t have put it into words if he’d tried. “I’ve had enough near-death experiences over the past two days to last a lifetime,” he said instead. “And I know it’s only going to get worse.” He squeezed Belmont within his arms. “If I’m going to go today, or tomorrow, or the day after, then that’s how I want to live tonight—as if it’s our last.”
Belmont said nothing in reply. Instead he dove forward and bit the side of Merritt’s neck, hard. Merritt groaned, clutching Belmont’s arms. Belmont pulled him off the sofa and into the bedroom. Together they tumbled onto the bed. Belmont lay on his back, and Merritt climbed on top of him.
For a moment, he stared down into Belmont’s eyes. If this is my last night with you, I want to feel every inch of your body, hear every sound you make, see every emotion on your face….
He slid his fingers in between Belmont’s, squeezing Belmont’s hands while exploring his jawline with lips and tongue. He bit Belmont’s lips, licked his Adam’s apple, and lay kisses down his chest then back up to his mouth.
Belmont’s breaths came out hard and fast and warm. He pulled his hands free and cradled Merritt’s head while they kissed. His smooth whisper caressed Merritt’s ear like velvet, asking him what he wanted. Merritt’s gasped replies were hungry and desperate, a barely coherent string of “yes” and “more” and “do it.” Merritt felt Belmont’s long fingers run down his back, teasing and tickling, rubbing and squeezing, slipping inside him, then massaging him till he moaned out loud. Another bite to his neck, and Merritt let out a sharp cry. He gripped Belmont’s hair and pulled it, returned a softer bite to his ear, and rode the waves of Belmont’s dancing hand. He slid his own hand between them, gripping both of their hard shafts together and returning Belmont’s thrusts with his own.
Merritt could feel Belmont’s gasps of pleasure echoing through him, as if they shared the same breath. Belmont slid out from under Merritt and got on top of him, wrapping his arms around him from behind, holding him tight and laying kisses from the nape of his neck up to the side of his forehead. Merritt reached behind him, feeling the flexing muscles in Belmont’s shoulder as he shifted position.
Belmont tilted Merritt’s head back, and their lips found each other. In the midst of their kiss, Belmont gripped Merritt’s hips and slid into him. Merritt gasped into his mouth. His elbows nearly buckled from the jolt that ran through his skin like electricity. He dug his fingertips into Belmont’s arm and gritted his teeth. The feeling was so intense he could barely take it.
Belmont chuckled with pleasure at the sight of his reaction. He flexed his hips, his soft, rhythmic movements like gently lapping waves at the shore. Merritt melted against him, eyes shut, gasping as the thrusts slowly grew deeper. He felt Belmont inside him—his words, his scent, his energy, and now finally his body. It was surreal, like a waking dream. Electricity crackled through his nerves. He could barely take it, but he wanted it to last forever.
They were fused together, moving as one. Shifting, bucking. Skin sliding against skin. Their guttural moans melded into each other’s. He was soon up against the peak, about to fall. Belmont nudged him closer to the edge. The sweet vibrations of Belmont’s passionate grunts tickled his ear. Belmont’s hand gripped him harder, stroking him in time with his thrusts. Merritt grasped the bedsheets so hard he thought he’d tear them. His moans turned desperate. He was filled to the brim with pulsing, sparkling heat.
He couldn’t withstand it any longer. The earthquake shook him to his core, and the heat erupted from him at last. While the aftershocks still ran through him, Belmont pulled him close and kissed him, swallowing his feral moans.
He nudged Belmont, then bit his lip. “Don’t stop,” he whispered. He needed to feel Belmont’s release too, to feel the tremors of Belmont’s body against him, inside him.
Belmont wrapped his arms tighter around Merritt’s body, bucking his hips hard enough to knock Merritt down to his elbows. Merritt sank into each stunning strike, his mouth open in a silent gasp. Harder, then faster, then deeper—and suddenly Belmont clutched Merritt tight to him. Belmont’s release sent tremors through his body. He closed his eyes and drank in Belmont’s rough groan and his final soft thrusts.
Then he felt Belmont’s comforting kiss at the side of his forehead. He turned his head and gazed up at Belmont with a soft smile.
He was Belmont’s. Belmont was his. And he never wanted to let go.
* * *
They lay atop the tangled sheets, still holding each other in the afterglow, exchanging soft whispers and lazy kisses. It pained Merritt to have to finally turn his face away and murmur, “We really should talk.”
Belmont snuck in one last kiss, and then another last kiss and another, like a shopper stuffing items into his basket just before closing. Then he flopped back against the pillows and asked, “Should I be wearing underwear for this?”
Merritt sat up, leaning in close and staring into Belmont’s eyes. “I need you to understand something,” he whispered, and a note of passion crept into his voice. He grabbed Belmont’s hands and squeezed them within his own. “Those kids at the Norwood Orphanage—I can’t forget them. I can’t let go of them.”
Belmont furrowed his brows a bit as he waited for Merritt to continue.
“Those kids were my brothers and sisters. They were my best friends. They’re people. But for whatever reason, I can’t find anyone who understands that they shouldn’t be used as guinea pigs.” He wasn’t sure if he should keep going, but he couldn’t leave the words unsaid. “If you don’t see it, if you don’t agree… then I don’t know where we can go from here.”
Belmont grimaced as if trying to swallow something bitter. He held Merritt’s gaze unabashedly. “If you want me to pretend I’ve been some lifelong champion of aces, I can’t do that,” he said. “I’ve known about this for years. The information fell into my lap. I never applauded Wilson’s program, but I wasn’t going to get in the way of it either—at least, not if I couldn’t get something in return.”
Merritt pressed his lips into an uneasy frown. Despite hating the answer, he had to appreciate that Belmont, of all people, seemed to be the only one willing to be forthright with him.
Belmont let out an aggravated groan. “That’s how I felt before. But… you keep making me look at things differently. You’re just the worst.” He pulled Merritt into a hug. “So yes—I see it, Merritt. Fuck, I wish I didn’t see it.” He nuzzled the side of Merritt’s head and took in a deep breath. Then he whispered, “Tell me what you want. You want that program taken down?”
“I do want it taken down. I want everyone who got sick to be treated. I don’t want to see Wilson ever get another job working with drugs and poisons. I want him out of Mercury’s board, out of D&P.”
“How about dead?” Belmont offered.
“I want him to have to face the aces he poisoned. Let them decide what happens to him.”
“They’d tear him apart.”
“He’d deserve it.”
Belmont flashed him a grin. “I never thought you’d be on the side of ‘an eye for an eye.’ This is as ruthless as I’ve ever seen you.”
“I’m sure you’d do even worse if it were up to you,” Merritt countered.
“Damn right I would—for the right price.” Belmont lay back in bed, slid his hands behind his head, and stretched lazily. “I’m not a good person, Merritt. Everyone knows that. But you are, and that means the rules are different for you.” He laughed coarsely. “Good people are such a pain in the ass. And you’re the biggest pain of all.”
Merritt lay back down, nestling beside Belmont. “I don’t know,” he said, then gave Belmont’s shoulder a teasing nip. “I think you like pain.”
Belmont snorted. “That’s supposed to be a secret,” he replied, then returned the bite.
* * *
Belmont hadn’t realized he’d dozed off until he felt the familiar, scratchy tickle of a head resting on his chest. He looked down, expecting to see Merritt asleep. Instead, Merritt lay facing Belmont, his ear against Belmont’s chest, eyes open and fingers idly tracing Belmont’s skin.
Belmont brushed the stray, wavy strands of brown hair off his forehead. He was long overdue for another application of five-day-hold hair gel. But Merritt lay atop him with a stupid, peaceful smile on his lips, as unbothered by Belmont’s sloppy grooming as Belmont was by his.
He groaned and tried to adjust the pillow that lay askew under his shoulders. Then he reached down and petted Merritt’s hair. “What are you doing?” he murmured.
“Listening to your heart,” Merritt replied softly. His blue eyes turned upward, met Belmont’s, then creased into playful crescents. “You wanted me to think you didn’t have one. But now I know you do.”
Did he? Belmont couldn’t help but chuckle. But as he gazed down at Merritt, watching Merritt listen to the thump of his heart, he caught sight of something odd in Merritt’s eyes. Merritt wasn’t as calm as he was letting on. Something dark churned behind his steady gaze.
He glanced at the clock. It was past two in the morning. Sooner or later, this night would end, and then what would happen? Beyond the closed doors of his suite were Mercury, Wilson, the board of advisors, the Blackout Division, blades and bullets and poison vials….
His heart beat faster and harder, like the ominous thump of battle drums. There was no way Merritt, with his head on Belmont’s chest, wouldn’t notice the change.
He shifted Merritt’s head off him and stumbled out of bed. When he turned around, Merritt stared at him with confusion. “What is it?” he asked, as innocent as ever.
Merritt had no idea of the sudden terror that filled Belmont’s heart. Belmont pasted on a teasing grin and said, “Your damn hair spiked my nipple. I got surprised.”
Merritt laughed and ran a hand over his haphazard blond hair. “Sorry.”
Behind Belmont’s grin, the terror continued to flow through his veins like poison. His chest felt tight. His breaths came out fast and shallow as he remembered, almost exactly a year ago, telling Merritt something he’d believed to be true for his entire life.
Everyone in the underground has someone they can’t bear to lose. Someone whose loss would just destroy them. I don’t have anyone like that. And neither does Mercury. It’s what makes us invincible.
Merritt squinted across the room at him, then tilted his head. “Hey. Come back to bed.”
Belmont didn’t move. He couldn’t take Merritt’s outstretched hand and let Merritt feel his suddenly clammy, sweaty palm.
More words rushed back to him. I’ve got nothing to lose. I’m past caring about anyone or anything in the underground, and that’s what makes me invincible.
He didn’t feel invincible. Not anymore. He felt like his own heart could rupture and kill him, just at the thought of something happening to Merritt.
Merritt’s peaceful gaze shifted to concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Belmont shook his head and tried to compose himself, but he couldn’t retrieve the fake smile that had fallen from his face. “It’s nothing,” he muttered at last while climbing back into bed. He scooted in next to Merritt and wrapped his arms around him. Merritt leaned into his body and breathed in deep, as if all his problems had been solved just by being in Belmont’s embrace again. Belmont wished he could relax as easily, but he couldn’t. His heart continued to pound.
“Fuck.” He swallowed hard and whispered, “I always knew you were going to ruin me.” Then he kissed the side of Merritt’s forehead and held him tight, staring uneasily across the darkened room.
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