To Gain Favour

Summary: Paul receives a gift
Warning(s): Spoilers for the first book in the Dune saga; violence; explicit sexual content between two men; violent sex; hair-cutting
Pairing: Paul Atreides/Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

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He knew why they’d done it. 

Paul eyed the ghola that stood before him. He took in the familiar features. The hair. The eyes. The build, so vastly different to that of his uncle, the Baron Harkonnen. And yet, Feyd-Rautha still carried the mark of being a Harkonnen.

Had this ghola been awakened? Or was he like Duncan, when he’d still been Hayt? Paul studied the Harkonnen, who was still and quiet. Like he didn’t know that he faced his deadliest enemy: an Atreides. A trick, or pure innocence? Paul pondered his options as he slowly circled the ghola’s form. Looked at the sheer clothing that was worn. It left little to the imagination, only covering enough to allow for the barest form of modesty.

Paul could strip the clothing easily. Could leave the ghola, could leave Feyd-Rautha, naked in the middle of his throne room. Was the ghola awakened enough to know humiliation? To be aware of how exposed he was? Or was he nothing more than an empty shell, given to satisfy some perverted form of revenge his creators believed Paul still harboured?

Paul knew more than he didn’t. When he chose to, he could open his mind fully. He could see everything that had been, everything that was, and everything that could be. It wasn’t the seeing that he had trouble with, but the seeing in the present and only the present. Turning it off was harder than keeping it on.

“Does my Emperor approve?” Feyd-Rautha’s voice was husky. A seductive drawl that whispered against Paul’s skin. He raised hooded eyes to Paul’s face. A smile touched his lips, but didn’t spread. It hovered there, like a secret waiting to be uncovered.

“Do you know who I am?” Paul asked. 

An elegant shrug that, seemingly by accident, allowed the white shift to slide from his body. Paul’s eyes followed its movement as the material slid from Feyd-Rautha’s body, to pool at his feet. And he stood, naked, arching his back so that his nipples stood out prominently, pebbled and hardened. “You are my master. I have been given to you.” He stepped forward, lifting first one foot and then the other, leaving his clothing behind. He moved right into Paul’s personal space and reached down, fingers reaching between his legs.

Paul’s clothing meant that Feyd-Rautha’s fingers didn’t touch his bare skin. But even that contact was enough to cause him to rouse. Despite himself, despite the very real danger, a low moan escaped his lips.  

Feyd-Rautha leaned forward, breath gently wafting over Paul’s lips, and pressed their mouths together. He kissed hard and then bit.  

The slight sting had Paul pulling back. He could taste copper on his lip. His erection was straining in his pants, as if it were struggling to break free. 

His body was reacting to Feyd-Rautha. And from the sultry look the Harkonnen was sending him from beneath lowered eyelashes...the ghola knew it too. 

Feyd-Rautha looked towards Paul’s groin and, very slowly and deliberately, liked his lips. He took a step closer and then another, eyeing Paul. Looking him up and down. “What would you like me to do for you?” His voice was a throaty purr. “What would you like me to do to you? Or what would you like to do to me?” He spread his arms out to either side. “I am entirely at your mercy.”

“I don’t want you to do anything to me. And I don’t want to do anything to you,” Paul stated.

“Liar.” Feyd-Rautha stepped closer to Paul, his movements lithe and graceful. Designed to draw Paul’s attention to every curve and line in the ghola’s body. He didn’t stop until he was pressed flush and tight against Paul’s form.

This time, it was Paul who initiated the kiss. He grasped Feyd-Rautha’s shoulders in a tight grasp; swallowed the quiet gasp of pain. He scratched his nails down the other’s skin. Felt the flesh shudder under his touch.

Feyd-Rautha slid his hand between Paul’s legs, fingers grazing along his erection. He palmed Paul through his clothing. Gripped his member tightly, almost to the point of pain.

In response, Paul reached down and grasped Feyd-Rautha’s wrist. He pulled it away from his clothing and used his other hand to push the ghola back, against the wall. He captured the other hand and held both high up above Feyd-Rautha’s head. “You do not touch. Not without my permission.” His voice was low. Husky. He couldn’t hide his desire for the Harkonnen ghola…and a deeper, darker part of him didn’t want to.

Feyd-Rautha laughed. His body was drawn taut, chest thrust out invitingly. His lips were swollen from the press of their lips. He lowered his eyelashes, giving Paul a heavy-lidded look. “Shall I ask you for permission?” His gaze slanted towards Paul’s groin and he licked his lips. “I can bring you pleasure. Through mouth or hands. Both if you prefer. My Emperor. I am yours to command.”

The mocking note was clear. Paul suddenly shoved the ghola against the wall, closing his hand around Feyd-Rautha’s throat. Not squeezing. Not yet. But showing his power. Showing how easy it would be to close his grip. To take the Harkonnen’s life a second time. “I could kill you. So easily,” he whispered.

“And they will bring me back.” Feyd-Rautha laughed, tipping his head back. Exposing his throat. “They think to use me to control you. Bring back your enemy. Kill me, if you choose. I’ve died once already. I’m not afraid of death.”

Paul closed his fingers around the ghola’s neck, but didn’t squeeze. Didn’t break Feyd-Rautha’s neck, though it would be easy. He loosened his grip; slid his hand down the ghola’s chest; grasped one nipple in his hand. He squeezed the nub and watched Feyd-Rautha’s head fall back. He pinched it between thumb and forefinger, almost cruelly, and felt satisfaction from the slight groan that escaped the Harkonnen.

Leaning forward, Paul kissed Feyd-Rautha, almost savagely. He bit the ghola’s lips and tasted copper once again. This time, though, it wasn’t his. He kissed until he felt Feyd-Rautha yield under him. Then, he pulled back. He let go of Feyd-Rautha’s nipple, though held the ghola’s hands still. And he reached for the crysknife he carried, drawing it free.

Feyd-Rautha’s eyes widened, though he didn’t speak. Just stared into Paul’s eyes and waited.

Paul slid the blade along the ghola’s cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. He let it travel slowly upwards, until it reached Feyd-Rautha’s hair. Then, slowly, he began to cut. Bits of hair dropped around them, surrounding their feet. And Paul continued to cut the hair loose, until it was shorn to Feyd-Rautha’s scalp.

And then he sheathed the crysknife and pulled Feyd-Rautha away from the wall, into another savage kiss.

This could only end in betrayal and death. But for right now, he would take this gift.

The End