Symbiota Sapiens 1


Synopsis: Jeremey finds himself inducted, against his will, into an ancient organization that claims to protect and guide humanity with supernatural powers. But what happens when the price of that power is losing the brother he loves?

Disclaimer: This is science fiction. To my knowledge there is no such organization as the Guardians of Atlantis. Nor is there any such technology as the Esseren, although our scientists are working hard to correct that lack. If anyone knows something to the contrary, I'd be happy to hear about it.

Disclaimer: Contains incestuous and homosexual relationships between consenting adults, references to quasi-vampiric sexual acts, and may eventually include graphical descriptions of sexual acts (between males). If you are offended by this sort of thing, please do not read this.

Disclaimer: The aforementioned sexual relations will not occur for a while. This is a "plot" story rather than a "sex" story. There will be sex because the main character is a healthy, good-looking young man with a healthy (if somewhat confused) libido. And also because part of the plot involves his developing relationship with his younger brother, who happens to also be healthy, georgeous, and blessed with a similarly active (but not quite so confused) libido. All sarcasm aside, sex is part of life so it'll happen in this story.

Now, enjoy the story...


by Dean

(email me at

"This one is an excellent candidate, I must say." The speaker is a beautiful woman with emerald eyes and long dark hair tucked behind her ears. Her cheekbones give her a kind of exotic Eastern look, but her accent is that of a well-bred European. She stands over me where I lie...naked? I'm only half awake but I'm aware of her eyes roving over me in a predatory fashion that sends blood straight to my groin.

Yeah, yeah, I know...wrong time for that, right? But hey, I'm not going to lie to myself...she's hot and I'm no saint. I'm feeling trapped, confused, and powerless - but at the same time there's this gorgeous, powerful-seeming woman looking over my taut body like a piece of meat. I am definitely turned on.

In truth, I would really be enjoying this if it weren't for the feeling in the pit of my stomach that what's happening - what's about to happen is a lot more than I'm ready for at the tender age of twenty-two. I struggle to sit up.

"What-" is all I manage to get out before unseen hands push me down again and fasten straps too tight around my wrists. Another strap comes into place over my forehead and I'm completely immobile. My eyes are still open though, and despite myself I'm drinking in the lovely face above me.

"A most beautiful boy, and intelligent too." I feel a light warm pressure as her hand touches my shoulder and slides down my arm to the crook of my elbow. "You say he is a runner?"

Apparently there is some reply I don't catch, but the woman looks up at someone behind my head and nods with satisfaction. "Ah, a scholar and an athlete then...most excellent. I shall expect great things from you, young one."

The pleasant warm touch on my elbow is replaced by a sudden sharp bite of a cold needle piercing my skin.

"What is this place? What are you doing to me?" I beg.

The darkly beautiful woman leans forward to study my face before she answers, her lips curving into an ironic smile.

"You are a guest in my home, and I am giving you the cure to your disease."

"What disease?" I ask, but my vision is beginning to blur. They must have already given me something. Soft lips trace a tingling path up my neck, over my jaw and a tongue dips quickly between my lips.

I think I hear a pleasant tinkle of laughter and the answer "Why, death of course" but by then my grip on reality is already tenuous. Perhaps I imagined the whole thing...but I know better than that now. It did happen, and oddly enough that final promise was not so far from the truth at all.


FLASHBACK: I'm gaining on him, the hotshot freshman who's held a solid lead for the last six laps. I can hear his footsteps overlapping my own...the soft rhythmic thumping, scuffing noises as pads of rubber striking cement and pushing off, launching him another step forward. I am just behind him, I can see the dark wedge of sweat on the back of his lycra uniform, tapering from his shoulder blades to the crack of his butt.

I study him carefully. His legs churn in a constant blur of movement, efficiently moving him forward at a slightly quicker tempo. He's heard my own footsteps. Sweat flies off his elbows as he pumps his arms...he wasn't doing that earlier. And he's wagging his head a bit too, so he's definitely lost his proper running form. Good, that means he's on the verge of exhaustion - mind gets a bit dull towards the end, you lose the ability to concentrate on so many variables. There are ways around that, though.

The sharp familiar pain in my side ratchets up a notch. I'm not so far from exhaustion myself. Fortunately I've been doing this long enough to learn a few tricks. The pain is like an old friend, a sensation I've become so accustomed to it's almost like it doesn't hurt anymore. Well, almost. It really does hurt. And it helps me to focus: we're nearing the finish line. I doubt this guy has the reserves needed for a respectable sprint left in him.

I approach behind him slowly, stealthily. Lighten my footsteps more towards the balls of my feet like a jogger so it'll be quieter, he won't notice I'm about to pass him until too late. I can hear him breathing now, the individual droplets of sweat on the back of his neck are detailed. I'm right behind him, my footsteps in time with his for just a moment. He looks to the sides, wondering where I am but I'm centered on his back where he'd have to crane around to see me. Will he?

He does. Turns his head and upper body enough to see me directly behind him - sacrificing momentum with that motion. Rookie. As soon as he starts to turn to his left I start my sprint around his right side - and I'm past him, widening the gap momentarily before he starts his own sprint to catch me up. Well, he does have some reserves left after all. He's actually closing the gap again. But not enough. I cross the line two steps ahead of him.

My teammates are there waiting to congratulate me. Julian is there - he never misses a meet, and he walks next to me as I cool down.

"Hey Jeremey, man you had me worried there for a bit bro."

"Yeah, me too. That kid was pretty damn fast."

"You're faster, though."

"No, smarter."


"No, just smarter - he shouldn't have tried to turn and look. If he'd had another ten meters he still would have caught me again."

"Whatever. You won, fair and square."


"Gonna celebrate tonight?"

"Yeah, you should come with?"

"I've got a project."

I roll my eyes. "When do you not have a project?"

"And I'm underage. Go enjoy yourself, you don't have to haul your kid brother around whenever your friends want to celebrate."

"They love you and you know it. And you know you can get into all the places we go as long as you don't try to drink or anything."

"Yeah, whatever. You go out and have fun, who knows, maybe you'll even meet someone and get laid."

"Shut up." I said easily, ruffled his hair.

He grins up at me cheekily and my heart warms towards him. God, the kid knows he's cute and he definitely knows how to use it, I swear. I can't help but grin back, only to have him give me a stinging swat on the butt as he turns off towards the stands.

"I'm off to the apartment, I just wanted to see you win. Have fun bro."

"Yeah, you too, kid. And don't take apart anything you haven't paid for."


(To be soon as Nifty approves this submission so I can add the next portion) }