“Liar.”
He snorted with laughter, even as she folded her arms at him with a faux glare. The cool and refreshing summer breeze wafted in through the open windows, carrying the smells of cooking meat and the bustling city. Serenity the capital city stretched across all of Sanctuary’s largest continent, and even a large portion of the ocean. The remainder of the continents were reserved for endless factories, agriculture projects, or Black Armada military installations.
Sanctuary. The closest thing The Black Armada could call a homeworld. Locked in eternal pristine summer, thanks to a perfect Goldilocks Zone orbit and level axis – selected for colonization efforts centuries or even millennia ago, long before The Black Armada even existed to claim it as a home and seat of power.
Long before Hyko or Caylee, that was for sure.
“And you’d know if I was lying? How?”
It was hard to tell. She was head over heels for him, as much as she wanted to deny it in the moment. Hyko was gorgeous in many of the same ways most former criminals chose to be gorgeous across the subcultures of Central.
Barely pushing six feet, but with thin and wiry muscles exposed beneath the skin from too much chain smoking across a wide variety of substances – coupled with not enough food, by choice. Across his arms, torso, and even one calf were tattoos of various Armada or gang symbolisms in a variety of styles, some hailing from long before he was ever a Prince. Even a sports team or two.
Back from his wasted youth.
He flicked his brightly dyed red hair back with his right hand, smoothing it back and forth with slight pressure until only a few loose strands dangled lazily across his forehead. Replaced the trucker hat. He kept it shoulder-long like this as preference, braided at times, or swept back beneath various fashion choices like…
That hat.
Caylee felt an embarrassing stirring.
Aside from his coloring hair, nails, or these myriad tattoos, most body mods were impossible for immortal gods like him now. The healing or restoration via the body’s stem cell overload outpaced most medical or cosmetic procedures by regrowing everything slowly over days. It was famous in Caylee’s field for pushing out implants or anything large, and for growing back – close to perfect, down to the original bone structure. The damn stem-cell fueled process was even good at replacing lost teeth, with enough time to regrow a jaw and gums at least. Nobody knew how it really worked, even after all this time.
Just the many scars and seal-points remained.
She was very, very attracted to his black ink and his many white scars.
Caylee was trying very hard not to fawn over him even now whilst feigning this mock disgust.
His face suddenly went poker-stern, which was comical considering he was naked from the waist up against the pillows – sans the Armada branded trucker hat pulled low over his red eyes.
Bare feet, and just a ragged pair of black jeans, worn commando at the moment.
His eyes tended to shine or glisten strangely in shadow, cosmetically altered as they were after a procedure involving great agony and pain.
No. Caylee. Discipline. Fuck this Fascist little Prince.
She would break the silence!
“I’ve only been fucking Hyko Ories… The God of Rage… Prince of… Heir to… The Black Armada of God-Emperor Xex. For over a year. I still might not be his official girlfriend because of stupid old god rules about dating mortals, your seventy thousand something old dad has hang-ups about, but I’d like to think I know when my not-boyfriend is being a lying piece of shit. I’ve had fingers up your asshole, babe – I know your fucking temperature.”
Her sarcastic retort broke him, and he laughed again, knowing full well that Xex fucked mortals all the time. He relaxed, leaning back against the pillows and scratching his chest lazily. It was common knowledge between them that he loved it when she shit-talked him. One of the most powerful men in all Central Universe. Former gangbanger. Now an adopted, ascended little Prince. A man she loved deeply, knowing much too well already about his traumas and history. A man she would do her best to save. To love.
To change.
She leaned against the doorframe, arms still folded. Her white sundress with sparse black polka dots rippled in the breeze from the windows.
Sunlight peeked in via myriad sunbeams.
This was Hyko’s penthouse of course – registered under one of his various older gang aliases pre-Armada. One of many things and places his father didn’t know about. She had to drive for fucking thirty minutes to get here after work. All because it was “far enough from The Imperial Palace.” He even contracted The Unitary Mercenary Guild, a neutral group, as building security. Still, the white marble and heated floors were nice. Plus the rooftop patio hot tub.
Okay, there were a few nice things over her three-bedroom apartment.
Ugh.
She had been half joking when she had asked the first time.
But she already knew the true answer didn’t matter much for her poor, mortal ass.
“So? Are you fucking her or not, Hike? I want to know, so that I can finally break up with you properly if you are.”
He grinned, then stuck out his tongue at her with a cheeky little jut of his chin.
He hadn’t used any plasma, a laser, or a razor for a few days and the black stubble on his chin was driving her wild.
“I’m not. True as true!”
She uncrossed her arms and walked over to the bed, flicking off the flats she had put on “to leave in a huff.” Her next step was falling backwards onto the enormous mattress in perfect asymmetry with him across his legs. The entirety of her breath came out in one long, exasperated sigh as she did it.
He smirked down his firm pectorals at her, mostly covered in ink, tilting the trucker hat upwards with a thumb to bring his red eyes out of shadow.
“You are pretty cute when you’re mad though, Cay-Cay.”
She swatted at his legs pinned beneath her with the back of her hand, before rolling onto her side and propping herself up on one elbow to look at him properly. The action bunched up her sundress around her hips, and hiked it up enough so he could stare at parts of her he liked.
Parts he knew from earlier were still uncovered, as her panties lay on the floor in a pile beside the bed, similar to his own boxers.
She faked a scowl. Wrinkled her nose at him in disgust.
“You’re a pig, Hyko Ories.”
She accused him with a jutting finger, playfully poking him in the side between the ribs and simultaneously gently twisting her finger in a screwing motion. It was his turn to swat her hand away and roll up to full sitting against the pillows, in discomfort. He was lucky she wasn’t wearing nails! Not that she could actually ever hurt him and his literal god-bod anyhow with her strength without a weapon.
Not in a thousand years.
“And what are you gonna do about it?”
He challenged her back, as she pursed her painted red lips at him, poking his ribs a second time. She knew the effect was kinda more manic than sexy, as they had smeared the shit out of her makeup during the last round, after an amazing brunch out.
Hyko let her connect with the poke fully this time. Her fake animosity very quickly turned into a careful examination when she quickly got distracted. She started tracing her index digit along his various stomach scars, hopping from one to the next as if connecting dots like a child playing with raindrops in a car window. She made silly sound effects for a moment as she did so.
When that didn’t work to kill her rising lust, she thought about her PhD panel, forever ago, as she made the silly sounds and tiny hops instead.
This was a semi-frequent playground for them, and many times she had taught him his own anatomy with each press or trace of her fingers, each in exchange for him telling her the gruesome story of each scar she pressed afterwards.
But the memories of her thesis didn’t work to kill the lust either.
“’What am I gonna do about it…?’ Stop seeing you.”
She mused it more than stated it with any conviction.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He shuffled up in bed, stretching his arms skyward in a stretch.
She traced up his bare torso further with little jumps of her finger, in equal parts curiosity and hunger. Really wished she had put on her underwear before she tried to storm off, to better hide her physical state from her “not-boyfriend.”
“Well, being the Emperor’s adopted son and all, I could have you arrested and thrown in a jail cell like a princess trapped in a tower. Have Beasts eat your guts, perhaps?”
She was used to his idle threats, and didn’t flinch in the slightest. Unfortunately, it just heated her up even more. The more comical he wanted to portray himself as, the more the hyperbole exponentially increased. Sometimes, he wasn’t quite self aware enough to really play it up with a silly voice, and stupider people would believe him – to everyone’s embarrassment.
In almost complete contradiction, in rather self-aware fashion, he saved his most egregious fake claims or threats for when they spent time together at the penthouse, because they both knew how hollow they were.
Of course, if they were ever found out as actual long-term romantic partners by his father Xex? Or even one of his minions?… Hyko would likely get a slap on the wrist, whilst she would undoubtedly be executed for the sins of “sharing seed between mortal and immortal souls” even though it was pretty common knowledge that gods had entire fucking mortal harems and casual flings at beck and call.
It was the romance that broke the back of that taboo?
Gross.
But the cybernetics firm she worked for was mostly funded by The Armada Science Corps despite being officially a neutral corporation… Plus… Caylee had chosen to leave Earth for this job of her own accord in the first place, entering this Fascist Dictator utopia for cold hard cash via Autarky.
“I thought he was the Warlord?”
She wiggled her fingers and made a face upwards at him.
He waved at her dismissively, mild disgust plastered across his face.
“Overlord, Commander, Emperor, whatever! He’s fucking… Everything, all at once! And worst of all, he has a new favorite title every Tuesday. Almost on a fucking rotation. Does it look like I know what his actual full written fucking title is?”
“You are his son.”
He snorted at her in response, rolling over and facing the window – away from her. The black and red trucker hat fell off and clattered brim-first to the floor on the other side of the bed, near other discarded clothing. His long red hair flopped across his face without the hat to hold it, but he made no effort to move it.
“Adopted son. I was fucking eighteen when the bastard adopted me against my will, then force ascended me. I was selected for my defiance at first, but chosen for my shitty situation.”
She watched him tense his muscles against the rising anger. Felt the force as his powers filled the room.
“I had no choice in becoming the new fake spawn of that dictator piece of shit. He needed to lie to his people, show that even the unluckiest motherfuckers could ascend inside his Empire on merit or force of will, even a punk like me from The Neutral Territories. Then I had quirks in my powers, and Xex took it as some sort of sign for his hallowed, divine hand.”
It was a sore spot. He had ranted to her about it across many, many nights. He was unique from other gods in that his anger and rage fueled his powers, rather than other traditional techniques like burning calories, pulling from available matter and energy sources, or training one’s muscles to use physical strength against the recoil of the exertion.
Hyko Ories The God of Rage, was as much an experiment of fancy for Xex, as a mouthpiece.
Still, to take the teeth out of it all for her lover, Caylee loved to tease him about the perks of being forever eighteen and also capable of punching down skyscrapers. She did it more often whenever he got too sulky or depressed about his perceived lack of autonomy under his “adopted dad” God-Emperor Xex. Hike hated playing “faithful son,” be it as a Black Armada General to be ordered around, or a propaganda piece to fake-smile as, on some forced camping or hunting expedition across the colonies with his darling “father” and company.
Ories was fucking thirty-five this year. Not that he fucking looked like it, having ascended mere days after his eighteenth birthday. Not that Caylee could argue either… She only looked twenty herself because of extended medical benefits at work, after all. She would also get to live to around a hundred fifty a least with all the gene therapy and several other expensive, infrequent procedures.
With her background in cybernetics and prosthetics… She already knew she had it much better than the poor bastards still dying before they reached even a century, mostly of natural causes.
Plus even those white-hairs were lucky in a sense, as much, much younger people died daily across the front lines.
Caylee reached out and rubbed Hike’s back gently, running her hands over the bumps of various scars.
He relaxed a smidge.
Bah, obscuring your age was the fashion amongst these damn gods anyways, adding plus or minus decades or even centuries – as most gods also only counted life lived post-ascension, something common across most of Central’s immortal factions.
Poor little God of Rage.
Her little God of Rage.
He returned to sitting, leaving the trucker hat on the floor. Caylee crawled up his legs closer towards his face, reaching one hand around his obliques and the other around his neck to pull herself up to a position straddling over his lap. She immediately moved to kiss the side of his neck soothingly in the same motion.
They were both neck-minded lovers, of course.
The chemistry was just stupid good, okay?
Why did he have to be the fucking Emperor’s son, gods dammit!
“It’s better than being an orphan, right?”
Hyko smiled as she murmured in his ear between kisses and soft bites, reminded of their first date.
She smiled back against his neck, knowing that before Xex – Hyko Ories was indeed an orphan from The Neutral Territories in actual reality. Another abandoned kid – forced to become a gang member to survive, all because Hyko’s parents couldn’t afford another mouth to feed or maybe overdosed themselves to death. Never before in history had gaining a father done more damage across Central Universe than not having any parents in the first place at all.
Her heart felt so full.
Caylee loved Hyko so damn much. For all the bluster from the ex-con, she knew he loved her just as much, mortal or not.
She pressed herself against him as hard as she could, knowing she couldn’t hurt him with her embrace if she tried. His flesh would only compress or squish so much, while his bones were like steel.
Hell, she couldn’t even leave a fucking love bite on his neck without it healing back to perfect unblemished skin faster than she bruised it.
She had tried! For months!
That first date? She had no idea who he was, over a year ago. Had thrown her drink in his stupid face when he commented rudely and inappropriately on her breasts, or her lack thereof.
Had slapped him hard across the face and then pulled him in for a kiss in the same motion when he immediately apologized to her with a moving sincerity. Tasted her own red wine on his lips despite the bar towel wipe – and then just kept catching herself smiling at him the rest of the night.
Self-aware fuckboys were rare on Sanctuary.
Thinking it was the same old one night stand with any other “MadaBoi” or gangbanger fuckboy as always, Caylee was the one who disappeared before Hyko woke the next morning, ensuring he had neither her number nor address.
But he had loved the fire, the feisty anger that she hadn’t lost even after learning who he really was. It was pretty late in the night a few days later before she clued in, to her great embarrassment and terror.
Many conflicting thoughts and emotions immediately arose.
Simultaneously, he was spending entire budgets worth of his father’s resources to find her – on a planet of many billions as Sanctuary was. Hyko even ran some story in closer circles about her being a kidnapped Black Armada asset, not that Caylee ever knew about such lies.
The memories came easy, even after this long.
He finally stopped quietly moaning from the neck kisses.
“Better than being an orphan?… I guess so…”
She could feel him through his pants already.
Prayed he couldn’t tell from the moisture that she was just as turned on.
She snuggled her face into his neck and hair in embrace again.
He reached down to hike Caylee’s dress above her hips. Unfortunately for The God of Rage, it had slipped back down partially when she made her way up the bed to straddle him.
She was blunt and direct as usual.
“I’m not having sex with you again – my angry, handsome little god. Tell me the rest. I thought you had to sleep with her for your dad like the last two times. Do we need to get tested again?”
She didn’t stop hugging him tight.
Tried her best not to tremble with the sudden wave of anguish.
“I never asked you to sleep with me again.”
He gently fired back at her, despite the obvious evidence of intent beneath her, and between them.
He moved his arm next, taking one of his hands from her hips to flop back his red hair again with a palm, listlessly. It was an anxious habit he had long given up on breaking. Part of why he chain smoked was to channel the tics somewhere when he could.
Babe.
Ugh.
“I’m beyond the lure of the flesh, Hike. You think that just because you’re a prince, or a god, or a royal heir, that I’m some ditz who wants to marry you and be a princess or some stupid fairytale shit like that? Pffffft. Like anybody with a PhD in fucking cybernetics would want to marry royalty! I’m a lady of science.”
She pulled back to hang from his neck with both hands, and pursed her lips at him again, like in the doorway. Hike loved it when Cay-Cay made that face.
She didn’t have to worry about leaning too hard.
He could snap her in two.
“I know, I know, don’t remind me. You shot down my ‘secret marriage’ idea, remember?”
He pulled away, pushing her to the other side of the bed with a tender gentleness, then rolling onto his side away from her again.
“No you don’t, mister!”
She wiggled up the bed again, spooning him and locking her arms around his waist in a mock wrestling clutch.
“You’re mine.”
“Oh? Am I?”
He tensed his muscles and she was already losing the sensation of gravity and mass.
“No powers!”
Just as soon as she had said it, she was flailing in the air a foot or two above the bed, looking down at him. He turned back lazily, swept the red hair from his face, and laid himself out spread eagle in mirrored position beneath her Then he reached up to tap her on the nose.
“Boop!”
She stopped flailing and silently fumed, arms crossed. He slowly moved his pinky in circles, spinning her clockwise.
“Or… I could…”
He lifted the other hand, softly nudging his fingers up in an oscillating “come hither” motion. Her dress lifted forward, inch by inch, and she jolted her arms downward to stop it rising further.
“HYKO. You fascist dictator piece of shit!”
He stopped spinning her, and she reached down and plucked at his chest, trying to pull at the stubble of his hairs in retaliation. His reply to that was to move and drop her, so that she thumped onto the bed next to him with a squeal, face and chest-first.
“You bastard!”
She began hitting him with flicks and prods, escalating to slapping his legs and chest – leaving angry red welts that vanished almost instantly. He feebly tried to protect himself with his hands, laughing. After a minute or so of this play fighting, the slapping turned to stroking, and then she straddled him and pinned his arms against the pillows above him.
For all that could be said about Caylee’s “not-boyfriend” god-boy’s… Obliviousness – he had at least clued in by now to the wet stain on his jeans, that didn’t belong to him.
Hyko offered Caylee no resistance.
“You’re so mean.”
She made sure to murmur it, and dipped down to kiss him deeply on the lips, one hand still holding his wrists together gently against the pillows, with the other free hand tilting his chin up towards her.
He tried his best to look offended as she descended but his resistance quickly melted and he went limp, kissing her back and letting her do as she wished. As it progressed, he used his thumbs to wipe away the smudged parts of her face as best he could with his powers – in between kisses and moans.
An hour later, they were cuddled up next to each other; naked, sweaty, and satisfied for the second and third time, with the afternoon weekend sun streaming in through the open French doors to the patio.
“I’m going offworld tomorrow morning.”
She groaned and pulled away from where she was draped across his bare chest. Her nipple rubbed against his stubble uncomfortably, souring her mood and afterglow even further.
“Why? Whyyyyyyyyy?”
“My father needs me to go to The Slit to check out a lead on a new Xex Project Sibling.”
She set her jaw angrily.
“And he has to send you, and not Sol, Hydros, or Loki, or even one of the other hundred kazillion stupid lackeys? To Serania’s Slit! A planet that is essentially one big whorehouse? To chase down one of the killer freaks from the freakshow? UGH! Just dump a couple hordes of Berserkers with a fucking milk carton picture, Xex! FUCK!”
Hyko shrugged.
“Hyko Ories you will not shrug at me.”
“I have no clue what I can do here, Cay-Cay.”
“Why do you have to go? I finally took vacation days off work because you just got back on planet… During a fucking crunch for that new Harlequin Project.”
He shrugged again. They both knew he couldn’t refuse Xex.
The God of Control always got what he wanted.
Always.
Hyko had been beaten within an inch of his immortal life more than once before when he had refused the Emperor.
Sweat was still drying across their naked bodies, most of it from Caylee, and the soft city breeze was covering his battle scarred skin with tiny goosebumped prickles that made the poky stubble stand up even worse. Hyko’s body always reacted instantly to even the smallest changes. Like his subconscious had an A.I. in there somewhere to react instantly.
He was definitely flesh and bone, though. With some ego mixed in.
“Cay-Cay… Come on… Maybe I’ll only be gone a few days? I’m really sorry this happened during our week together.”
She shook her head in a vigorous denial.
“You’re NEVER gone just a few days.”
Hyko Ories sighed, sadly.
“Fuck…”
He brushed a hand through his long red hair, sweeping it back yet again.
“I missed you, Hyko.”
“I missed you too, Caylee.”
There was an uncomfortable pause after that.
So different and yet so alike, they simultaneously had a thought:
“I love you Hyko.”
“I love you too, Caylee.”
Another uncomfortable pause.
Unexpected.
It was the god that broke the silence.
“I really like you Caylee.”
A backstep on love.
It was reaffirming on his part – for his autonomy, yet crushingly sad and heartbreaking for her.
He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, and she still blushed even as the tears were starting, using her finger to sweep her long hair behind an ear in embarrassment and try to pass it off as the start of a sneeze.
“I’ve been seeing you for over a year, and I still feel like you’re gone more than you’re here.”
“It’s my job. My adopted dad’s a fascist dictator, remember? I don’t have much of a fucking choice.”
She snorted in frustration. He felt his heart beat three times quicker. Felt the power flow like a spring. She could awaken that in him. Being with her was the first time any other emotion had stirred his powers instead of raw fury. He would never tell another living soul about such secrets.
But perhaps Caylee already knew.
Not like using his powers was subtle.
“Tell Xex that you can’t.”
Impossible. One simply did not sway the Warlord of the Black Armada. The Emperor of the Universe. He Who Devoured The Creator. More titles.
He shook his head sadly.
Looked down at his hands, clearly having an internal crisis of sorts.
The radiating truth of what defiance would mean spoke across the silence. A testament to the welling traumas of being torn away from someone you love.
“I promise you I’ll come back. I won’t run away with someone else. I’ll always come back to you Cay-Cay, even if he…”
She rolled back towards him. Pursed her lips to break the tension. They both laughed.
“And you were lying earlier when you joked about sleeping with someone else at that dinner party?”
“Yes. I made her up entirely to mess with you.”
“I knew you were lying.”
“It’s true. I’m a liar. Bad one.”
His corners of his red eyes glistened with tears.
“But he’s forced me to bear heirs before, Caylee. You already know the last two times were entirely political, right? Either might happen again. For collateral, for bribery, for favors, for lots of things. I never even know what happens to them after. The women or the kids. I’m like a fucking stud, some stallion for Xex to whore out!”
She stared into his eyes, holding the moment so she could remember it. His pain was palpable.
Caylee loved this man so much.
“The God of Rage – Hyko Ories might be a bad liar, but he’s a great fuck.”
He grinned from ear to ear in response, red hair splayed out beneath him.
Went to open his mouth to blab some witty threat or retort, having forgotten his immediate despair.
She made sure he couldn’t.
As Caylee shut up her “not-boyfriend,” Hyko Ories, God of Rage, with another kiss.
