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wind him up, watch him go

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He’d won.

 

It was victory for humanity was the official party line. Publicly, Kray had refused any kind of medal or reward offered to him, stating that the knowledge that the human species had been saved was all he needed. 

 

It was good for the rehabilitation of his image- while most aboard the ark were thankful for their lives, he knew there were some that whispered that he could have done more, done differently, saved their friends and family. They were ungrateful, but they would learn. Galo would help him with that- his first instinct when he’d torn that mecha apart had been to kill the boy, but for whatever reason, people who weren’t Kray Foresight tended to like him. 

 

He’d come around eventually, when he decided to act like an adult and stop screaming at Kray whenever Kray came to visit him. He had four years to become a model of reform and gratitude for all future citizens of Omega Centauri.

 

(He was considering changing that name- planting his flag there surely gave him the right.)

 

Privately, Kray had allowed himself to keep a trophy, to commemorate his triumph. It had been selfish of him, but after all he’d done for the people of Earth, he deserved to be selfish for once.

 

The Burnish leader was a rare beauty, one who would have been wasted powering the engine. Kray considered himself a connoisseur of beautiful things.

 

He’d poured a lot of money into the pharmaceutical wing of his R&D department over the years, mostly into research on the nature of Burnish mutations and how to suppress them. Invariably, ice weapons were more effective and far cheaper than biological alternatives, but Kray had still felt it necessary to invest in a specially made type of sedative for Burnish who couldn’t or shouldn’t be contained by the usual methods. It hadn’t had much field testing, but it seemed to be plenty effective on Lio. A carefully measured dosage every few hours kept him in a drugged haze, his body limp and eyes glazed over. 

 

Kray had had his health carefully monitored for a few weeks, making sure that there were no unexpected periods of lucidity and that Lio wasn’t likely to suffer liver failure. He’d kept a security camera on the boy around the clock, but Lio had barely moved in the confines of his small, dark cell, lying placidly on the floor until the nurse came to administer the next dosage of the drug and check his vitals. The first few days, she’d been accompanied by a dozen armed security guards. After that, one or two. When it became obvious that Lio wasn’t faking anything to make him lower his guard, Kray had him transferred to his private quarters.

 

The nurse offered to continue helping with Lio, but Kray had turned her down. It had been a long time since he’d had to take care of someone, but he still could, if needed. And much to his own surprise, he found that he’d wanted to.

 

Lio, pliable and silent with sedation, was easier to care for than Galo had ever been. He needed to be fed, bathed, and have his muscles occasionally stimulated to prevent atrophy, all of which Kray was more than capable of. Lio may not have been able to express gratitude in words, but there was something in his quiet countenance that made Kray feel appreciated nevertheless. And Kray couldn’t deny the arousal he felt when he held the helpless boy, maneuvering and manipulating him as if he were an oversized porcelain doll. It made him feel powerful, in a way that not even ripping open the fabric of the universe had managed to.

 

The first time he’d taken the boy to bed, he’d made sure to be gentle with him. Kray had prepared him carefully, laying him out on silk sheets and stretching him open while Lio had stared, dead-eyed, up at the ceiling. He made love to Lio slowly, hands almost entirely encircling his slight waist. He’d tried not to hurt him, insofar as Lio could feel pain in his current state.

 

The next time, Kray had well and truly taken him. He’d positioned Lio with his face in the bedspread and mounted him like a bitch, forcing himself inside, fucking him hard enough that every stroke made the bedframe creak. It had been enough that Lio’s stupor had partially been broken, leaving him aware enough of what was happening to moan in pain, arms wiggling uselessly. When Kray pulled out to come on Lio’s back, his cock was dripping blood, and he’d been able to taste the tears on Lio’s cheeks.

 

The most wonderful thing about the Burnish mutation was how quickly they could heal.

 

He decided at some point to stop cutting Lio’s hair. It was one of the boy’s lovelier features, and Kray liked it, liked how silky it felt when he pulled on it. Soon, it flowed down Lio’s back, and Kray added care of it to his daily routine. He would position Lio in his lap, back resting against his chest, and carefully brush out any knots or tangles that might have formed. By the time he finished, he was almost always unbearably turned on.

 

At the beginning, he’d dressed Lio every day in the stark whites of the Foresight Foundation. Now, he rarely bothered to dress him at all. Lio spent most of his days curled up in a dog bed next to Kray’s desk, naked save for one accessory- a leather collar Kray had had made for him. He slept most of the time, and when he was awake, he was so still that it hardly made a difference.

 

Some days Kray was content to let him sleep. Others, he deliberately eased back on the dosage of Lio’s sedatives, just enough that Lio would be able to remain in a kneeling position under Kray’s desk. He’d slide his dick into Lio’s mouth, and the boy would suck on it, instinctively, as if it were some sort of pacifier. When he came down Lio’s throat, he didn’t pull out. Lio was so delightfully patient on drugs that he didn’t mind, kneeling on the floor with Kray’s soft cock in his mouth, waiting for it to get hard again.

 

Even in his most lucid moments, his eyes were still dull. The fiery passion that they’d once held had long been snuffed out. Whether it was the death of his brothers, the separation from Galo, or the constant drugging, Kray couldn’t tell for sure. It was wonderful either way- those eyes, which had once stared at him with such hatred, as broken and unresponsive as the rest of him.

 

Perhaps one day Kray would become bored of him and send him below deck to power the engine with the others. Until then, he would enjoy victory, in the company of his beautiful, obedient doll.