Chapter Text
They told me, "Son, you're special. You were born to do great things." You know what? They were right.
The Dictator holds the Engineer's jaw tight in his hand. He feels like he could crush her skull if he squeezed just so. She won't meet his eyes, staring defiantly just beyond his shoulder. He grabs her hair and pulls it back with his other hand so she's forced to look nowhere but at his face. She closes her eyes.
He snarls and jerks her hair once more. “ This could have all been yours ,” he roars into her mind. “ They would have feared you. Loved you. An equal in every way, with more power imaginable. ”
The Engineer's eyes remain closed and she doesn't react to his words. It makes his blood boil and he tosses her to the ground. He wants nothing more than to stroll over to where she lays and crush her skull in with his foot. Instead, he motions to the guards that have been standing in wait. They lift her up by the shoulders and begin to haul her away.
She finally looks at him, fire in her eyes and a trickle of blood running from her temple. She would look so pretty if he could paint the rest of her body in that rich color. He flicks his eyes briefly to her round stomach and lets his lip curl in a smirk.
He turns away from them to stand in front of the large window in the chamber they were in. It overlooks the bountiful fields of Oasis, the water shimmering under the sun. The planet is sublime, but its end is ticking. He can feel it, his connection to the planet has begun to waver recently.
He watches the Engineer be dragged away in the reflection of the window. He will raise their son, send him out to different planets to conquer and find a new home for their people, and when the time comes, he'll kill the boy himself and take his body.
As Michael sits in the captain’s chair of Outer Heaven , he feels the ship humming pleasantly around him. He hears his bridge crew moving about, doing their jobs, and he watches the stars zoom by him as their ship sails through the universe. Time passes slowly for Michael, days blur together in the same rote way. War is in his blood, he was raised to be the Conqueror, but he prefers the quiet strategizing with his Triad.
The console behind him chirps and he hears Isobel answer it before calling out, “The Dictator is hailing us.”
“Patch him through,” Michael replies.
“Patching through on the viewscreen ahead,” Isobel confirms before doing so.
His father appears before them, sitting on the throne with his Oasian Guard flanking him.
“Hail, Your Majesty,” Michael greets.
“Hail, Captain,” the Dictator replies, then his eyes warm briefly. “How are you, my son?”
“Arisia surrendered to our forces at 0200 hours Oasian time. I left Commander Dallas with a contingent of forces to oversee the terms of surrender with instructions to impose a 30% tributary system on top of the trade deal that they will sign,” Michael reports.
The Dictator looks thoughtful. “Arisians have trade agreements with planets in the Base System, make sure Dallas works in commodities from them in the tribute.”
“Yes, my lord. I will send word to Dallas imminently,” Michael agrees even though he had already instructed Dallas to do so. The Dictator often instructs Michael to do things, but very rarely in the five years since Michael has been commanding Outer Heaven has he offered advice or instruction that Michael has not already executed. It used to bother Michael, but now he knows that his father needs to manage everything, and it does not necessarily mean that he doesn’t trust Michael to oversee proceedings in Oasis’s best interest.
“Very good,” the Dictator smiles briefly in his paltry praise of Michael. He continues, “We’ve received intelligence that the Usurper has been spotted near the Weaver System. I’ve instructed patrols to be deployed to the neutral planets there to gather information and told them to relay their findings to both me and your ship.”
Michael’s jaw tightens at the news. The Usurper was raised alongside Michael and often favored by the Dictator over his own son. When the Dictator sent Michael off-planet as an Ensign on one of the fleet ships, the Usurper stayed on Oasis under his father’s tutelage. When Michael was given command of Outer Heaven and officially named the Dictator’s heir, the Usurper was furious. He escaped from Oasis with a small team of soldiers that were loyal to him and has been building a rebellion in the Beyond Systems, galaxies that do not have trade or diplomatic relations with Oasis and have yet to be conquered by Michael’s fleet. He has evaded capture, but mostly because the Dictator has ordered Michael’s ship to focus on expansion. The Usurper was planet-side for most of his education, he does not know how to command a fleet like Michael does and is thus not a major threat to Michael’s crew.
“Is there anything you would like us to do with the information?” Michael asks.
The Dictator studies Micheal for a moment before answering, “No. Why don’t you give your crew shore leave? You’ve been very successful lately, my son. You all deserve to celebrate.”
Michael inclines his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you, Your Majesty. We will await your further orders.”
“Excellent. Oasis, out,” the Dictator replies, and the connection is cut.
“Dreamer,” Michael calls out to the navigator. “Plot a course for the Peace Keepers, we’ll take shore leave on one of the trading planets.”
“Captain,” the Dreamer confirms and begins plotting the way.
“ Peace Keepers ?” Isobel asks in his mind.
“ The Dictator has always been soft on the Usurper. I think our team can do a better job collecting intelligence than the Oasian Guard Patrols. The Usurper is a military problem, not a domestic one. We should be pursuing him .” Michael doesn’t look back at her to avoid alerting the crew.
“ He told you to leave it alone ,” she reproaches.
“ I’m not going to do anything! ” Michael defends, “ I’ll just have the intelligence crew do it .”
He can feel her frustration in his mind but he doesn’t bother reasoning with her. It’s not her that will get in trouble with the Dictator anyway. “Isobel,” he calls out as though they hadn’t been speaking amongst themselves. “Meet me in my ready room.”
“Sir,” she confirms, sliding out of her chair. She follows Michael off the bridge into his ready room and once they’re alone, she turns around and confronts him. “This is a mistake, Michael. The Dictator will find out.”
“Peace Keepers is three light years from the closest Weavers System planet,” Michael says as he settles into his chair and drums his fingers on the tabletop. “It’s close enough for us to gather information without being obvious. Plus Peace Keepers have excellent shore leave options, it’s a good cover.”
Isobel sits in the seat across from him and shakes her head. “You’re taking advantage of Dallas’s absence to avoid being outvoted by us.”
“I would have made the same call if Dallas were here,” Michael replies smoothly. “You’re my Triad, but I’m still in command here.”
“You only treat us like your equals when it suits you,” Isobel retorts, anger bleeding into her words.
“Your advice and counsel are extremely valuable to me,” Michael insists. “But you still fear repercussions from the Dictator and I need to overrule you when it comes to defying him.” Isobel doesn’t say anything in reply, she clenches her jaw and looks away from Michael’s gaze. “Isobel, please,” he calls quietly.
She takes an exaggerated sigh before looking back at him. “Fine. Only tell our intel officers and do no investigating yourself. Hook up with someone, show the crew you’re there for leave, too.”
“Thank you, Isobel,” Michael says. “Send word to Dallas to meet us on Peace Keepers X in five days and handle the logistics of reconnecting. Tell him what we’re doing but only once he’s planetside.”
Isobel had pulled out her e-pad and began taking notes. “Dallas will be upset.”
“That’s why I’m having you handle telling him,” he says with a slightly sheepish laugh.
Isobel looks up from her pad and smiles. “Always making me do your dirty work, huh?”
Michael laughs again as he gets up from his chair and rounds the table to hug her shoulders. “I promise this won’t be a mistake.”
Isobel leans into his embrace. “I hope you’re right.”
They reach the Peace Keepers system in four days and in that time, Michael briefs his intel agents on what he expects them to be looking into while the rest of the crew is on shore leave. By the fifth day, they reach X and when they port, Dallas sends word that he has arrived with his small crew. Michael sends Isobel ahead to rendezvous with them while he dismisses his crew for leave for 36 hours.
Before he joins his crew at one of the many bars, he makes a stop at a night rooming business to book a room. He never brings conquests back to the ship and he needs to make sure any room he stays in has enough security. Even in a neutral system like Peace Keepers, Michael still has a large target on his back and he doesn’t take any risks.
Once he feels the room is suitably secure, he makes his way to a bar that is known for its diverse alien clientele. Michael has always found hooking up with non-Oasians less complicated, if a higher risk to his safety. He joins some of his bridge crew in the corner of the bar and one of them hands him a drink as he scans the bar for anyone that catches his eye. It doesn’t take long before he sees a beautiful man who appears to be alone and is just the type of person Michael is looking for.
Michael watches him from across the room. He flits from person to person, making easy conversation but there's an uneasiness that Michael can sense he's trying desperately to hide. He’s handsome and Michael thinks he’d be an easy target to hook up with, pretty and ignorant is Michael’s favorite combo. He waits until the man is finally alone at the bar, shoulders hunched as he sips at what looks like some Anduli whiskey. He abandons his crew and the drink they’d gotten him to make his way to the bar.
Michael crowds into his space, “Buy you a drink?”
The man startles from where he’d been gazing into the drink and looks over at Michael. “I already have one,” he says with a slight smile. “Why don’t I buy you one instead?”
Michael smiles and flags down the bartender without looking away from the pretty man. He orders an Anduli whiskey for himself and tells him to put it on the man’s tab. He can see the bartender glance over at the man for confirmation and he nods once making the bartender busy himself pouring the drink.
“You Oasian?” the man asks once Michael is sipping his own whiskey.
He hums once. “How do you know?”
“You have a peculiar way of talking,” he says and it should sound like an insult but he’s smiling earnestly. “Long vowels and sharp consonants. It’s lovely.”
He wants to suck dark bruises into his skin. “I’m Michael,” he finally introduces.
“Michael,” he sighs. “I’m Alex.”
“Where you from Alex? I don’t have a talented ear like you and can guess based on accents.”
Alex smiles, his eyes crinkle, and Michael is again struck by how much he wants him, how he wants to see tears coming from those crinkled eyes as they fuck. “I’m from Earth,” he replies.
“Terran,” Michael says, with some surprise. “Far from home.”
A crack on Alex’s flirty facade appears, his eyes appear sorrowful for a moment as he replies, “It was never home.” Michael feels drawn to the sorrow in those words, and he reaches out to cup Alex’s cheek. Alex peers up at Michael through his eyelashes and Michael slowly strokes his thumb over his cheekbone. Alex leans into the touch, closing his eyes briefly, and when he opens them again, he says, “The universe is my home.”
“The universe,” Michael murmurs and it’s his turn to close his eyes briefly. “She is my mother.” Alex’s eyes widen minutely. “Yours too?” he asks.
Alex nods before turning his head to the side and kissing the palm of the hand Michael still has on his face. The touch is cool on Michael’s warm skin and the air between them is charged. Michael crowds into Alex’s space and places his other hand on the other side of Alex’s face and draws him in for a deep, long kiss.
Alex seems to sigh into the kiss and tangles his fingers in Michael’s curls and Michael responds by dropping his hands to Alex’s waist and pulling him close so their bodies are flush against each other. He pulls off Alex briefly to ask, “Come back to mine?”
“I’m not that easy,” Alex breathes against Michael’s lips, but otherwise makes no move to contradict his words.
“How about another drink then?”
“Mmm,” he hums. “It’s a start, but if that’s all you’ve got, I’m not impressed.”
Michael waves down the bartender, still locked in their tight embrace, Michael’s hand on Alex’s waist and both of Alex’s in Michael’s hair. “Oh darling, I can assure you, you’ll be more than impressed.”
Michael awakes to the cool touch of metal on his temple. Only the reflexes of a lifetime of training allow him to kick the offender off, roll out of bed, and grab the gun he had planted in the night table drawer the day before. Michael isn’t sure how long Alex has been awake, he’s pulled on his pants from the night before and his prosthetic is already fastened back on. His chest is still bare and Michael can see the marks he’d bitten and scratched into Alex’s body red and angry in the daylight.
Alex is quick too, fully recovering from the surprise kick Michael gave him lunging for Michael’s gun when he hears Michael cock it. He’s kneeling by the bed and Alex kicks the gun out of his hand, before throwing a punch to the side of Michael’s face. The blow sends Michael tumbling to the ground but not before he grabs the wrist of Alex’s hand that punched him and pulling him down with him.
As they fall to the floor, Michael realizes with a start that they’re almost evenly matched. Each one of his blows is matched and returned with ease. Michael knows a losing battle when he sees one and decides to end it by using his telepathy. On the next kick he lands, Alex falls flat on his back to the ground and before he can recover and land another hit on Michael, he freezes him.
Alex watches him balefully from where he lays on the ground; his legs are spread straight and arms at his side. Michael smiles at him, indulgent like Alex is some misbehaving child rather than the closest an enemy has gotten to him. “You said you were Terran,” Michael remarks. “Earth is a neutral planet, so who sent you?”
He doesn’t answer, simply stares back, and clenches his jaw. Michael shakes his head. “You’re so lovely, Alex,” he remarks. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
The threat does nothing to loosen Alex’s tongue and Michael is almost glad for it. Alex is one of the most formidable threats Michael’s faced and he would be disappointed if a simple threat would be enough to break him.
He waits for Alex to exhale before tightening his hold on Alex’s chest. Alex’s eyes widen briefly when he realizes he can barely inhale due to the hold before he schools them back into indifference. He tries holding his breath for long moments, taking short breaths when he does finally need air, and Michael continues constricting Alex’s lungs. Still, Alex seems willing to let Michael suffocate him to death and that won’t do.
He straddles Alex and leans forward so their faces are nearly touching. “Come now, lover,” Michael breathes, “I won’t hurt you, I just need to know who’s coming for me.”
Alex’s eyes flutter closed, but before they do, he sees the spark of desire in them and Michael smiles in victory. He releases the hold he has on Alex’s chest and croons softly against Alex’s ear, “I won’t let anyone hurt you, lover.”
Alex takes large gulping breaths and Michael cups Alex’s face in both hands, but Alex won’t look at him. “Join my crew,” he continues, rubbing circles with his thumbs on Alex’s face. “Come see the universe with me.” Michael feels his blood turn to honey when Alex opens his eyes, half-lidded, and nods minutely. He leans down to kiss Alex when he’s suddenly bucked off of him.
Momentarily disoriented, Alex is able to scramble away from Michael to grab one of their guns from the earlier scuffle and wastes no time cocking it and pointing it at Michael. “Save your sweet words,” Alex spits, anger etched on his face. “You think I’m a fool? I agree to tell you what you want to hear and then you toss me aside?”
Michael stays laying on the ground, not making any sudden movements. He feels Isobel call out in his mind and he sends a reassuring pulse back to her. “Aren’t you tired of living in suspicion of everyone around you? For the highest bidder?”
Alex barks out a laugh, “You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know many like you,” Michael replies. “You think you’re special? Let me guess: You ran away from home because no one loved you, always having to prove yourself, and now you have no allegiance to anyone but yourself.”
Alex’s nostrils flare and Michael knows he’s right. Before Alex can say anything, the door to his room bursts open, and members of his crew flood in. They point their guns at Alex, who doesn’t even react to the disruption, continuing to stare hard down at Michael.
“Captain?” one of them asks and Michael lifts a hand but keeps his eyes on Alex.
Alex’s eyes are like stones, where they were once open and easy to read the night before, they’ve closed off and made it impossible to tell what Alex is thinking. He flicks his attention briefly to the soldiers standing in the room with them before returning his attention back to Michael. “Clyde,” Alex says simply.
It takes Michael a moment to realize what Alex is talking about and then his mouth curves to a smile. “The Usurper, of course.”
Michael cautiously gets up from the ground, Alex has proven that he is unpredictable and quick, he won’t underestimate him again. Alex drops the gun he’s holding and simply stands there like he is waiting for them to take him away. The crew seems to have the same thought as him as they start towards him and Michael calls out, “Leave us.”
He feels their hesitation so he barks out, “Out! Let me handle this . ” There is still some hesitation before they finally exit the room and close the door behind him. He knows they’re still waiting just beyond the wall, and he’s fine with that.
Michael approaches Alex and cautiously places one hand on his waist and uses his other hand to tilt Alex’s chin up so they’re looking at each other. Alex stares up, gaze unwavering and without a trace of fear. “Lovely Alex,” Michael sighs. “Won’t you join my crew?”
Alex exhales slowly and loudly. “As your kept pet? To keep an eye on me?”
“As much as I would love for this,” and at that Michael moves his hand to Alex’s ass and squeezes, “to happen again, it’s not just that. You’re clearly capable, you’re smart. You’d be an asset to my crew, for Oasis.”
Alex shivers in Michael’s hold before replying, “Okay. Okay.”
Michael smiles and strokes his thumb again against Alex’s cheekbone, an action he’s already become addicted to. “Well then, welcome aboard the Outer Heaven .”
Michael leads Alex back to the ship, and he follows Michael like a prisoner, perhaps still doubtful of Michael’s invitation to join the crew. Once they’re in the transporter room, he feels Isobel’s anger and Dallas’s confusion and knows he must deal with them so he pages one of his top intel officers and tells Alex, “Go with Mezil, she will get you situated on the ship. I’ll meet with you later.”
In Oasian, he addresses Mezil, “He was a spy that was sent by the Usurper, a mercenary I think. His loyalty must be bought and paid for, so see what you can do.”
She bows her head in acknowledgment, turns to Alex, and says in Standard. “My name is Mezil, I will give you a tour of the ship.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mezil. I am Alex,” Alex introduces, in perfect Oasian before slanting a look over at Michael.
He refuses to be embarrassed by Alex understanding what he said before, he merely curves his lips and quirks an eyebrow. “I’ll see you later then,” Michael announces in Oasian before he sweeps out of the room.
“ Meet me in my ready room ,” Michael calls to his Triad and he feels them pulse back their acknowledgment.
When he gets there, Dallas is sitting at the table while Isobel paces the room. She stops as soon as she hears the doors whoosh open and turns a furious look at Michael. “What happened?”
“Calm down,” Michael warns. He looks over at Dallas, “Welcome back. Everything went okay on Arisia?”
“It did. I wrote up a brief and sent it to your pad for your review,” Dallas answers.
“Good. Isobel, sit down and let me explain,” Michael instructs while he takes his own seat. “I took your advice and hooked up with someone last night. Turns out, he was an assassin sent by the Usurper, and truthfully, he almost got me,” he relays.
“And so you invited him on the ship to try again?” Isobel demands at the same time Dallas shakes his head and says, “ Michael .”
“Look,” Michael stops them and runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “He’s a Terran, which means he was a mercenary. This is extremely valuable information: the Usurper either doesn’t have troops that are loyal enough to trust this task with or strong enough to carry it out. I asked Alex to join the crew because he’s strong and smart and more than that, he doesn’t have loyalty to the Usurper. He might have more information for us like how he was approached, what he was offered.”
They’re both quiet as they take in the information so Michael continues, “Did our intel agents gather anything useful?”
“There are rumors that the Usurper is having difficulty conscripting soldiers to his side. Oasians will not betray their kingdom and your reputation is enough to prevent neutral aliens from wanting to cross Oasis,” Isobel recaps their findings. “However, it does seem like he has a wealthy benefactor which means his capital reserves have kept him afloat.”
“This mercenary’s presence certainly confirms the rumors,” Dallas observes. “What will you tell the Dictator?”
“He doesn’t need to know everything. I’ll tell him I met Alex on shore leave and found out he was a skilled fighter - which is all true.”
“It might help if he thinks your lover,” Isobel suggests cautiously.
“I told Alex I wasn’t inviting him to join to be my pet,” Michael replies sharply.
“He won’t be, but it would be a good cover. Your father might not think too much about a random Terran joining if he thinks you became enamored with him after one night,” she explains. “You want to keep your intelligence gathering about the Usurper from him.”
Michael exhales to think it over, before nodding. “Okay, you’re right.”
He finds Alex in the barracks of the ship, sitting on the bottom of one of the bunks. “Mezil said I might be suited for the intel agents since I already functioned as one, if only in my own capacity,” Alex tells Michael in greeting. “What do you think?”
“What do you think?” Michael asks in return, sitting down next to Alex on the bed.
“I think you all want to keep an eye on me and that’s the easiest place for it,” he replies nonchalantly. “Of course, I understand. It’s what I would do if the roles were reversed.”
“Some of our strongest fighters are in intelligence, I think you’d fit right in.” Michael bumps his shoulder against Alex’s. He merely hums in response. “I need to tell you something.”
Alex looks over at Michael with a raised eyebrow. “Okay?”
“For your protection, we are going to let my father and those off the ship think that you only joined my ship because I wanted you as a lover.”
Alex purses his lips and doesn’t reply right away. Finally, he shakes his head. “Whatever,” he says. “I can’t stop you.”
Michael reaches out, grabs Alex’s chin, and lifts it up so they’re looking eye to eye. “It won’t affect how you’re treated on the ship.” Alex merely lifts one shoulder and lets it fall in a shrug. “It won’t ,” he repeats emphatically.
“Okay,” Alex says, unconvinced. Against his better judgment, he leans in and gives Alex a biting kiss who returns in hungrily, but when they part he huffs, “I’m sure that’ll help the argument.”
Michael drops Alex’s jaw and gets up from the bed. Alex looks up at Michael, expression completely unreadable. He doesn’t have anything to say in response, Alex so easily knocks Michael off balance with so few words. He thinks it may be easiest to avoid him and let his intel officers handle him. He leaves without a backward glance.
Since leaving Earth, Alex has been adrift. He spent most of his time on neutral planets, picking up mercenary jobs to pay the bills. He felt no allegiance to Oasian or its rivals, whoever paid him the most was where he’d go. He knows the intel officers want to know everything he knows about the Usurper, but he doesn’t have much to offer. He tells them how he’d been approached by a previous employer, a black market interlocutor that connected assassins with people operating outside of Oasian laws, and everything went through him. Alex never met the Usurper, though he did know he’d been working for him.
They took the interlocutor’s information and passed it up to Michael, but Alex doesn’t know what was done with the information. Despite being part of the intelligence team, information goes up the chain of command and isn’t usually shared between intel agents.
Alex worries that the nature of the job and staying in one place will chafe, but as the days turn to weeks turn to months, Alex finds himself becoming more and more comfortable being part of Outer Heaven . Michael’s crew is mostly made up of Oasians, but there are some other aliens on board too, which means that Alex doesn’t feel ostracized. He mostly keeps to himself, but the crew has a camaraderie that he’s never experienced before, and he’s swept into it easily.
Michael is affable most of the time, he sits with his crew during meals and booms with laughter trading stories with them. He trains alongside them in the gym or watches his men spar and offers advice when asked. He huddles in the war room with his Triad, plotting where they will conquer next. His crew loves him, they all speak highly of him, awe tinged. Alex’s eyes track Michael’s movements with curiosity and desire, but Michael never makes a move to touch Alex again since their last kiss in the barracks and Alex knows it’s his own fault. It makes his blood burn with frustration and desire as he plots a way to get Michael to touch him again.
Periodically, Michael’s face becomes thunderous and his demeanor stormy. He walks the halls of the ship and the metal groans, his telepathy, which is normally so tightly controlled, going haywire. Everyone gives him space until whatever has set him off settles. After one such incident, Alex sits with the Dreamer at one of the meals because she’s sweet and prone to gossip. He’s certain she would be willing to divulge the secret behind Michael’s foul moods.
“What gets Michael so angry?” Alex asks, voice low so no one will overhear them.
Bonnie’s eyes dart around the mess hall before returning her attention to the meal in front of her. “We don’t talk about it.”
Alex feels frustrated being stonewalled so quickly, but he exhales the irritation away before trying again. “Perhaps we can help him calm down if we do talk about it.”
She shakes her head vigorously, “It would be treasonous.”
“Michael doesn’t seem the type to enforce royal laws,” Alex starts but she shakes her head again.
“It’s not him.”
There’s only one person that ranks higher than Michael and the crew never talks about him. The Dictator. Whatever causes Michael’s abrupt changes in mood has to do with his father.
And if there is one thing that Alex knows, it’s daddy issues.
The next time Michael is put into one of his moods, Alex hangs back in the gym waiting for Michael to show up. When he finally does, he starts punching a dummy, taking his frustration out on it.
Alex cautiously makes his way over to Michael and calls out his name so he doesn’t catch him by surprise. “Hey, Michael.”
Michael pauses, his left arm pulled back for a punch, before glancing over to where Alex approaches. Abruptly, he feels his entire body freeze, Michael’s power washing over him. He returns his attention to the punching bag in front of him, keeping Alex in place, and continues wailing into the dummy. Alex doesn’t know how much time passes, but he feels a lick of desire overcome him. Michael is so causally strong and powerful, and it would make Alex tremor in pleasure from it if were he not frozen in place.
Once Michael seems satisfied with the show, he turns to look at Alex, finally releasing him from the hold. “What do you want?” he barks.
Alex stretches his limbs, cracking his spine, and generally takes his time before responding. “I wanted to see if you’d like to spar, have an actual target that can fight back.”
Michael laughs meanly. “I’d hardly call you an evenly matched opponent. As I recall, I overtook you rather easily that time you tried to kill me.”
Alex scoffs and shakes his head, “Hardly a fair fight when I was beating you and you had to use your telekinesis to best me. Just hand-to-hand combat, what do you say?”
Michael watches Alex, his eyes assessing as he stares him down. Alex cocks his head and waits for Michael to come to a decision. He can feel Michael probing at the edge of his mind and Alex keeps himself open and relaxed. “Fine,” Michael says.
Michael is a much easier target this time, he is clearly distracted which Alex is able to use for his benefit. He starts off on the defensive, letting Michael land some easy blows in the beginning before he becomes bolder and pushes Michael to the defensive. Michael’s hits become sloppier and easier to predict, letting Alex dodge with ease so he tires Michael out.
Alex finally gets Michael in a headlock with one arm and then elbows Michael’s side causing him to lose his balance and take both of them to the ground. Alex rolls onto his back and gets up, ready to continue but Michael continues laying there. “Do you yield, then?” Alex asks with a touch of laughter in his voice.
Michael exhales sharply. “Don’t get used to this, Alex. I was distracted and you knew it.”
“Take it more seriously then,” Alex replies.
Michael slowly gets up to his feet. “It was a good fight, I needed that,” Michael tells Alex, his earlier anger seems to have bled away in the fight. “Thank you.”
It warms something in Alex and he smiles. “You don’t have to suffer alone, you know Michael.”
Something crosses Michael’s face but he doesn’t respond to Alex, he merely nods again before leaving Alex alone in the sparring ring.
It starts a pattern between them. Michael seeks Alex out whenever he’s in his moods and they go hand to hand until one of them prevails. Alex hungers for more, their night together when they first met is something he still thinks about when he’s alone in his room and feeling lonely. But Michael never crosses the line and Alex knows he won’t, not after the way he called him out after their last kiss.
He tries to burn the sexual frustration out by running laps on the track, swimming in the pool, or working on complex computer problems. It doesn't help, his fingers itch for Michael whenever he passes by despite it being months since they hooked up.
The next time they spar, Alex lands a particularly hard roundhouse kick on Michael, causing him to fall to the ground. Alex, still running on adrenaline, immediately straddles Michael, his ass on Michael's crotch where he can feel Michael's erection.
He gyrates down on him, hard, and Michael throws his head back and moans softly. "You want it, too," Alex breathes. "Why haven't you done anything about it?"
Michael reaches up and grabs Alex's hips and holds them in his strong grip to prevent him from teasing further. "You said you didn't want to be my pet."
"I don't," he agrees, but he leans down so his mouth touches Michael's ear. "Or at least, not only ."
Michael groans and grabs the back of Alex's head and kisses him deeply. He swipes his tongue against Alex's lips and he opens them so Michael can fuck his mouth with his tongue. Alex moans and clutches Michael's curls tight, pulling him closer as though he wants them to fuse together.
Alex finally pulls away. "Not here," he pants.
Michael has a wild look in his eyes and he nods, gently pushing Alex off of him but then grabbing his hand and leading him toward Michael's chambers.
Alex feels giddy and triumphant as they make their way there. They pass other soldiers and officers in the hallway and Alex knows how it must look to them and he isn't even ashamed. He wants everyone to see Michael's desire for him.
When they get to the room, Michael pushes Alex to the bed and lays atop him, kissing him deeply which Alex returns in kind. The passion is so much greater than the first time they slept together and Alex feels as though it will overwhelm and consume him. He thinks at this moment that he could love Michael for all eternity if he’d let him.
After, they fall asleep in Michael’s bed, Alex the little spoon to Michael with his back pressed up against Michael’s chest. When Alex wakes, his leg is on fire and aches and Michael must see the look of pain on his face because he reaches down to Alex’s limb and massages the damaged tissue there. “Do you need anything?” he asks quietly and he continues his ministrations.
He stretches and snuggles closer to Michael’s warmth. “No, this is perfect.”
Things settle easily into place for them after that. Either Michael doesn’t talk to his father as much or having Alex by his side helps quell the anger, but in any case, he doesn’t get angry as frequently as he used to. He invites Alex to sit next to him in the mess hall and they still train together, but it has lost the frenzied and charged aspect to it. Michael invites Alex to join him in his chambers for a private dinner and it always ends with them pulling pleasure out of each other.
Alex all but moves into Michael’s quarters after the sixth time it happens. Michael never comments on it, but Alex knows that he’s pleased about it. After they fuck, Michael likes to hold Alex close and lay kisses along his neck and jawline. In the quiet dark of their chambers, they get to know each other intimately. It’s easy to share deep secrets that they’ve never spoken to others when it’s just them.
“Why did you leave Earth?” Michael asks one night after Alex has removed his prosthetic, they’ve turned the lights off, and rolled to their respective sides of the bed.
Alex groans, he felt sleep was just a moment away, but he doesn’t protest the question. “I killed my father,” he whispers.
The silence is loaded before Michael huffs out a laugh. “Truly?”
Alex rolls over to face Michael and traces the features of his face with his finger. “Mm,” he hums. “My mother left us when I was young and my father took it out on us. My brothers, I mean. I had three.”
When Alex doesn’t continue, Michael prompts, “What happened to them?”
He closes his eyes briefly. “He made all of them enlist in the Terrain military. By the time I was 17, they’d all died in stupid perimeter patrols of Terran’s borders. He didn’t fucking care,” Alex spits. His eyes flash in anger and Michael reaches out and places a hand on Alex’s cheek. “He was going to make me join too, and it just made me so angry. I…snapped, I guess. He’d been abusive to all of us and sent all of my brothers to their deaths. I wasn’t going to be the next one.” Alex exhales shakily. “Anyway, one night, I snuck into our shed and found a hammer and took it to his room and…just ended him.”
Michael pulls Alex in close, Alex instinctively tucking his head in the crook of Michael’s neck, and he runs his fingers through Alex’s hair. “Good, I hope he suffered.”
Alex huffs into Michael’s neck. “Yeah. He did. I ran away after that. I knew about some shuttles that could get me off Earth and I did what I had to to get on one.”
“And now you’re here,” Michael murmurs into his hair.
“In bed with the most powerful man in the universe,” Alex sighs dreamily. “Things turned out okay.”
“Second most powerful,” Michael corrects gently.
He laughs, “Who’s stronger than you, Michael?”
“My father,” comes Michael’s answer.
Alex pulls away from the embrace and studies Michael’s face but he looks completely serious and quirks an eyebrow at Alex like he doesn’t understand why he’s shocked. As far as Alex knows, Michael has single-handedly expanded the Oasian Empire, he commanded the largest fleet in the military, and it was his whose name was murmured with reverence across the universe. He bites his tongue and settles back into Michael’s embrace. “Of course,” he says and Michael squeezes Alex closer.
“Thank you for telling me,” he replies before they both drift off.
Michael invites his Triad to dinner one night and Isobel is icy towards Alex while Dallas is sweet and earnest to learn more about Terran culture. Michael makes an offhand comment about the Dictator and Alex rolls his eyes before patting Michael’s hand and saying, “Daddy’s boy.”
Michael’s face sours when he says it, but Isobel suddenly lights up and begins engaging in conversation with Alex so he considers it a win even if Michael is annoyed. “Michael is a stunning tactician, but every time the Dictator questions his strategy, he loses his nerve,” Isobel confides conspiratorially to Alex while they drink wine after dinner.
“Izzy,” Dallas warns gently.
“Oh it’s all in fun, right, Michael?” she laughs, her cheeks are rosy and she’s probably had too much to drink.
“My father is a smart man. I trust his judgment and am always honored to follow his lead,” Michael says stiffly.
Alex thinks he should intervene but before he can, Isobel continues, “Well I’m glad you didn’t follow his lead completely. We wouldn’t be a Triad if you had. Perhaps Alex wouldn’t be here, nearly your equal.”
“Isobel,” Dallas says sharply.
Alex looks over and sees Michael’s face has turned stormy and the air has become charged but they don’t speak aloud again so Alex suspects that they are fighting telepathically. Alex sits there uneasily and finally reaches out to touch Michael’s hand. “Hey, love,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.”
It’s the right move because the tension suddenly bleeds out of the room. Dallas looks nervously between Michael and Isobel before suggesting, “Perhaps it’s best if we leave.”
Michael simply nods stiffly and doesn’t get up from his seat as they exit. Alex hovers behind Michael for a moment. “Do you want me to leave too?”
He turns on Alex quickly and pulls him in for a kiss. “No,” he breathes between their lips. “I want to fuck you.”
Alex nips at his lips, “ Yes .”
They make quick work of their clothes and Alex's prosthetic and once they're ready, Michael throws Alex on the bed and fucks him hard and angry. Alex goads him on, urging him to go faster and harder. Michael has Alex on his fours, a plump pillow under Alex’s amputated leg, his hands tightly gripping Alex’s waist that he is certain will bruise, as he drives mercilessly inside Alex over and over.
Once they’ve both come, Michael wordlessly goes to the bathroom and returns with a wet rag to wipe them down and he gently maneuvers Alex to his side and spoons him from behind. Their breaths even out before Michael noses at Alex’s neck and quietly says, “I don’t like it when you talk about my father like that.”
Alex shivers in Michael’s hold. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect it to spiral out of control like that. Your relationship with your father is yours. It’s just…” he hesitates.
Michael squeezes Alex briefly. “It’s fine, go ahead.”
“I just wish you could see what we did,” Alex confesses quietly. “You’re amazing, Michael. You don’t have to cut yourself down whenever we give you praise.”
He’s quiet for a moment before replying, “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything,” Alex assures.
They lay there in silence for a long time, Alex is certain they are going to drift off but then Michael shifts and pulls Alex on top of his chest. Alex keeps his eyes closed and hums thoughtfully while Michael begins running his fingers through his hair. “When was the last time you went to Oasis?"
Michael doesn't pause his fingers as he answers, "Years ago. I haven't been back since my father sent me off planet."
“Do you miss it?”
He feels Michael shift underneath him before responding.
“I feel like I never knew it. My father always wanted me to be a fighter, he began training me young. And once he felt like I’d learned everything I could planetside, he sent me to train on the ships.”
Alex opens his eyes and lifts his head to look at Michael. “My father always wanted me to be a soldier, too,” he murmurs.
Michael huffs out a laugh. “It’s different though. He wanted me to succeed, to be the best. The Oasian Empire is great because of him.”
“Because of you ,” he replies.
“I wouldn’t be me if it weren’t for him,” Michael says simply.
“You’d be better,” Alex says quietly before resting his head back on Michael’s chest. Michael doesn’t respond and Alex threads his fingers through Michael’s curls. “When was the last time you saw him?”
"Your words are poison," Michael says without heat, leaning into Alex's caress. He’s not sure Michael is going to answer the question as the silence stretches between them. “He doesn’t leave Oasis,” Michael finally murmurs.
Alex keeps petting Michael and presses kisses to his chest. “You must miss him.”
Michael doesn’t deign that with a response, but Alex didn’t think he would.