Prisoner Of War

Summary: Paul doesn’t kill Feyd-Rautha
Warning(s): Spoilers for the first book in the Dune series; violence; explicit sexual situations between two men; spanking as sexual purposes; slightly possessive behaviour; AU
Pairing: Paul Atreides/Feyd-Rautha; hints of Paul Atreides/Chani

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Paul had a choice.

His future stretched out in front of him; multiple paths that he could follow, even allowing for the fact that there were many he couldn’t in fact see. In one such possible path, he took Feyd-Rautha’s life. In another, he handed the Harkonnen over to Gurney Halleck, who repaid his sister’s suffering tenfold before finally killing the tortured man.

There was another path he could take, though. One where he didn’t kill the Harkonnen. He had a second to decide, because it was possible that any hesitation would end with Feyd-Rautha’s poisoned knife in his breast.

Paul wrapped his arm around the Harkonnen’s neck. It was just enough pressure to keep the other man in place, but not enough to choke his breathing or break his neck. “Do you yield?” he demanded.

“No!” Feyd-Rautha growled the response and jerked his elbow back, throwing it into Paul’s stomach.

The blow hurt, but Paul ignored the pain and tightened his hold on the Harkonnen’s neck. “If you don’t yield, then you will die. Yielding to me is the only way you will survive,” he warned.

There was silence from the Harkonnen. The silence didn’t last for long before his body relaxed and he hissed out, “I yield.”

Yielding didn’t mean surrender and Paul didn’t immediately let go of the other man. Instead, he took the knives that Feyd-Rautha had secreted on his person. He knew that one of the blades was coated with poison and he handled that one a bit more carefully than the other. Only after he had fully disarmed the Harkonnen did he loosen the tight grip he had on Feyd-Rautha and then looked up, towards Stilgar. He stood and dragged the Harkonnen to his feet, then passed him over to the Fremen. “Watch him, Stilgar.”

“You didn’t kill him.” Gurney hissed the words under his breath, staring at Paul with eyes narrowed in hurt. The hurt tone carried through in his voice.

Paul’s eyes moved to Feyd-Rautha and then back to Gurney. “I understand your anger, but he wasn’t directly responsible for what happened to you.” He couldn’t spend a lot of time reassuring Gurney and could only hope that, once the older man had had the chance to calm down, he would see the logic in Paul’s actions.

Aware that Gurney was simmering quietly behind him, Paul turned to face the Emperor and his entourage. His eyes shifted to the blonde daughter, the Bene Gesserit trained princess who would secure his place as the Emperor. He would wed her, but she would be his wife in name only. Chani was the important person in his life.

And then there was Feyd-Rautha….

Paul’s eyes lingered on the Harkonnen for a moment or two before he turned back to tell the former Emperor exactly what would happen. The old man wasn’t happy, but he was left with very little choice after the events of the day.

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The ceremony had been a short affair, over with as soon as possible. And the former Emperor had been exiled to his prison planet. Paul had left Irulan to her own quarters, barely speaking to her after the ceremony and instead retiring to his rooms with Chani. They’d grieved in private for their son, but had shed no tears for the dead.

There was no time for tears any longer.

It had taken most of the night for them to share in their grief, but Chani had finally fallen asleep. And Paul had held her until he was certain her sleep was deep and she was unlikely to dream. Then, he’d kissed her and left her sleeping, slipping out of their sleeping chambers and walking the hallway until he came to the room that had been assigned to Feyd-Rautha.

There was no sound coming from inside the room, but Paul didn’t assume the Harkonnen slept. And he didn’t assume that he would be safe from thoughts or desires of revenge. Standing outside the door, he let his consciousness travel along the different pathways that showed him where the rest of the night could go.

Once he was satisfied he knew what his next course of action would be, Paul pulled open the door and walked into the room. But he didn’t walk all the way inside and instead said, “I know you’re hiding behind the door. I’ll save you some time. No matter what course of action you decide on, I’ve seen it and I know how to counter it. There’s no point in wasting your energy on a fight you can’t win.”

“You don’t scare me.” Feyd-Rautha stepped out from behind the door even so. “I don’t believe you can see everything.”

“I see enough,” Paul replied. “For instance, I can tell you that you were planning to jump on me as soon as I came into range. To try and choke me into submission. You didn’t plan to kill me, but you wanted to take control.” He paused. “I know which knife you carry that’s normally coated with poison. And I know that you will break your own rules when it suits you.”

“I’m a prisoner here.”

“Yes,” Paul agreed. “You are. You’re my prisoner. But you are safe here.”

“Your men hate me,” Feyd-Rautha replied. “And they’d kill me if they could. You can say that I’m safe here, but we both know I’m only here for as long as you decide I’m worth keeping alive.” He paused. “I don’t know why you chose to keep me alive. Unless it’s for something you think I can do for you?” He took a step forward, closer to Paul, his eyes flat. “You have the Emperor’s daughter and you have your pretty Fremen concubine. Are you planning to add me to your entourage as well?”

“If I am?” Paul returned.

“Will you force me to bend to your will?” Feyd-Rautha asked.

“I don’t think I need to force you into anything.” Paul allowed a note of certainty to creep into his voice. “We were always destined to come together in conflict. But I chose to spare your life.”

“And now you’ll take your reward.” Feyd-Rautha walked over to the bed. Standing by it, he began to strip himself of his armour. His movements were slow, drawing out the actions as he revealed every inch of bare skin. And by the time he stood fully naked, his clothing was collected in a pile at his feet. He stepped over it and arched his whole body, stretching up on tiptoes and raising his arms up above his head. “Where would you like me?”

Paul stepped over to the Harkonnen, noting the lack of scars on the other man’s body. It was smooth and muscled, the skin pulled taut by the position he was in. He watched Paul’s approach through half-lidded eyes. His tongue flicked out and licked at his bottom lip, then he gently bit it.

Reaching out, Paul wrapped his arm around Feyd-Rautha’s waist and pulled the Harkonnen towards him. He grasped the other man’s waist with both hands and pulled him in close, then leaned in and kissed him; hard and with almost bruising force.

Feyd-Rautha returned the kiss, hard and deep. He lightly scratched his nails down Paul’s chest, leaving behind faint red marks.

Paul pulled back from the kiss and bit the side of Feyd-Rautha’s neck. He began to suck on it, hard enough that he could feel a mark forming under his lips.

Almost in retaliation, Feyd-Rautha leaned forward and closed his teeth around Paul’s neck, biting before releasing and then quickly licking the spot he’d just bitten. His hands moved to Paul’s clothes, pulling them free and dropping his shirt and pants to the floor, in the same pile with his own armour. He then hooked his foot around Paul’s ankles, pulling him off balance so that he toppled into him before kissing him, nipping at his lips.

Paul scratched his nails lightly down Feyd-Rautha’s back and then began sucking on a spot on the other side of his neck. He pushed the Harkonnen towards the bed and shoved him down onto it, then pinned him there with his hands above his head.

The other man squirmed a bit as Paul raked his nails down his chest, leaving behind red marks. He then leaned over and began to suck on the marks left by his nails. With his other hand, he roughly pushed the Harkonnen’s legs apart and grazed his fingers over Feyd-Rautha’s member.

The gasp that escaped the other man was low and drawn out and he arched his body towards Paul’s questing fingers. He wriggled, trying to pull his hands free of the firm hold. He wrapped his legs around Paul’s waist, using that hold to pull him in closer and tighter.

Taking his mouth from the marks he’d left over Feyd-Rautha’s chest, Paul kissed him hard and then gave his backside a light smack before he said, “I am in control. You don’t get to take it from me.” He squeezed the spot he’d just smacked.

Feyd-Rautha groaned, low in his throat, and his member swelled in response.

“You like that?” Paul murmured. He delivered another, slightly harder smack and then lightly scratched the pale pink mark that had appeared.

The Harkonnen’s pupils dilated and he began to pant, arching his body and pressing himself into Paul’s hand. A few more smacks and squeezes and scratches and his member was beginning to leak.

Paul let go of Feyd-Rautha’s erection and squeezed his hands before saying, in a low voice, “Not yet.”

The other man groaned and whined, wriggling and trying to pull his hands out of Paul’s grasp. “You’re trying to torture me.”

Instead of responding with words, Paul lowered his head to the Harkonnen’s chest and sucked one nipple into his mouth.

The other man’s whole body jerked up and he began to tug and pull on his hands, held fast in Paul’s grip. “I can’t.” His voice was shaky. “I can’t hold back.”

Paul released the nipple long enough to say, “I’m telling you that you will. You will release when I say you can. And not a moment before.” He didn’t give Feyd-Rautha a chance to respond before his mouth descended on the opposite nipple to give it the same treatment.

The low, sharp pants that escaped the Harkonnen barely sounded human. He writhed in Paul’s grip, gasping repeatedly. “Please.”

It was one word, but it was a surrender. Feyd-Rautha hadn’t disobeyed and Paul slowly released the nipple, letting out a satisfied grunt when he saw the hard, red, swollen nubs. His hand went between the other man’s legs and he grasped the erection, beginning to stroke it firmly and surely. “Now,” he stated. “You can let go now.”

Immediately, Feyd-Rautha’s whole body stiffened. He gasped out a wail as he released, hard, into Paul’s hand. Afterwards, he lay there, panting, eyes rolled back in his head, as his breathing calmed and then slowed.

Paul let go of his member, but didn’t release the hands he held in a firm grasp. He rolled the Harkonnen over onto his stomach and squeezed one buttock firmly, then gave the pale flesh a sharp slap before he rubbed the spot he’d just swatted. He heard the low groan that escaped the Harkonnen and gave the other buttock the same treatment.

Feyd-Rautha squirmed in place, but Paul now held his hands firmly behind his back as he smacked, stroked and squeezed the other man’s bottom, turning the skin a warm, rosy pink. Then, he stopped and retrieved the small carton he’d brought with him. He put some of the lotion on his member, coating it liberally, and then pushed inside Feyd-Rautha, grasping one hip to hold him still.

A low whine escaped the other man and he tensed up before relaxing, allowing Paul to fully push inside him. The whines became low, pleasurable groans as Paul began to thrust a bit deeper and faster, gripping the other man tightly.

It only took a few thrusts for Paul to release and he let himself slump over the Harkonnen’s body. He didn’t relax and kept on his guard. After all, temporary surrender didn’t mean that the other man wouldn’t put a knife in him the first chance he got.

Feyd-Rautha twisted round as Paul pulled out of him, wincing a little as he rolled onto his back. “What now? You just take your pleasure from me and then leave?” His voice was calm and level, with only a faint hitch in his breathing to show for what they’d done.

“If I stayed, you’d take the first opportunity to stick a knife in my back.” Paul stood up and walked over to his clothes, pulling them on.

He didn’t try to deny it. He just propped himself up on his elbows and gave Paul a sultry look. “Tomorrow night, maybe you could whip me,” he suggested.

“Tomorrow night,” Paul agreed. “I’ll have food brought here for you in the morning.” Fully dressed now, he walked out of the room, turned the key in its lock and walked back to his Fremen woman.

The End