Chapter Text
"So—I'm not needed again today?"
The soldier stares, surprised. Senku has never asked him anything before.
"No."
It's also the first time Senku's ever heard him speak. He places a bucket of fresh water on the washstand, replaces Senku's uneaten meal from the night before with a fresh one, and then turns and leaves without another word.
Senku sighs and flops on the bed. It's been five days since the night he moved into the observatory, and he hasn't seen Xeno since. At first, he dreaded having to see him again. Now, he wonders if he'll ever get invited back into the laboratory. He's screwed either way.
He's avoided thinking too much about what happened. All he can do is move on—it'd be illogical to waste his time worrying about it. He'd like to see Xeno and get the awkward moment over with, then get back to work like nothing has changed. The longer he's kept up here, the further the promise of escape seems to be.
But Xeno hasn't called for him. He almost misses hearing the disturbing flirting through the wall—at least there was something to listen to. Now he drowns in endless silence, counts in the back of his mind, stares at the sky for hours on end, and does complicated mental math just to occupy the time.
He's gone almost two days without eating now. When he first had the idea, he laughed at himself. What are you, a schoolgirl trying to get her crush's attention? It feels utterly absurd, but he doesn't have many options. He wants out of this damn room. His stomach gurgles as he eyes the fresh food on the table—perfectly good venison and corn that will go to waste. He's not sure how much longer he can keep this up, but if he's correct…
Right on cue, the heavy door swings open faster than he thought possible. Unfortunately, it's not who he hoped it'd be.
Pissed, Stanley stomps over to grab Senku's plate and thrusts it in his face.
"Eat."
Senku turns away, pretending the smell isn't making him ravenous.
"Yeah, yeah, I will."
"Now." Stanley shoves the plate into his lap. "I'll wait."
He's serious. His lethal gaze never leaves Senku as he aggressively strikes a match, ready to chain smoke for however long it takes. Senku raises an eyebrow derisively.
"I'd be a lot less trouble for you dead, and we both know you aren't the touchy-feely type. Why do you even care?"
"Trust me," Stanley glowers. "I don't."
Senku already knows this, of course. Stanley is just a soldier following orders—but he's just inadvertently confirmed that Xeno is aware of his little stunt. That counts for something, at least.
"Now eat it, before I get yesterday's out of the trash and make you eat that too."
There's no use in fighting it now. Senku gives in, struggling to eat at a normal pace and not let his hunger show. Once he's had enough for Stanley to be satisfied, the plate is ripped out of his hands. He doesn't even get the luxury of finishing it all—Stanley knows he wants to.
"It ain't gonna work. Don't try it again."
He spins on his heel, but stops at the door.
"He won't be asking you for help anymore. So knock it off."
The door slams shut.
Discouraged and nauseated, Senku curls in on himself. It's hard not to feel like a caged bird. A pet. What is Xeno even playing at, at this point?
People are counting on him, and he's never felt so powerless. But Senku is nothing if not persistent. He's unwavering in his convictions and never yielding, just like his dad taught him to be. But the four months in here have felt significantly longer than 3,700 years as a statue, and he's getting tired. This can't be the thing that breaks him.
Think.
Think.
There must be something he can do.
The situation has changed, ten billion percent, and an idea strikes. If Xeno cares this much, maybe his soldiers aren't actually under orders to shoot if he runs. It's incredibly risky, and there's no way in hell he'd actually get free. But he already knows the castle's weak spot—a door facing southeast that leads straight outside. If he makes it into the cornfield, he might stand a chance. Especially if it's at night. He'd be risking it all on a gamble with stupidly low odds, but he's running out of ideas. Things can't get much worse for him than they are now.
He lies awake all night, staring at the stars and debating his suicide mission.
Fuck it.
He has a plan by morning. The rising sun bathes the dark circles beneath his eyes in a faint glow. It's a beautiful day and a true sign that spring is near. It saddens him—maybe it's the lack of sleep and food, but he's starting to not feel like himself anymore. He'd give anything to feel that breeze on his skin. It's hard to believe it's gotten to this point, but he can't stand it anymore. Sitting around is surely the least logical course of action.
When the usual soldier comes in that evening, he takes his chance.
"I have to go to the bathroom," he demands, wobbling to his feet.
The soldier stares. It's not an unusual request by any means, but Senku knows he must look like shit. He definitely feels like he's going crazy. The man nods, opening the door to escort him down the many steps.
Once they reach the ground floor, Senku breaks into a sprint down the hall.
"What the—stop!"
His hypothesis was correct—he isn't getting shot. Not yet, anyway. But the one soldier chasing him turns into two, which turns into three, and suddenly, a high-pitched alarm is ringing through the entire fortress. It almost drowns out the barking of his pursuers, ordering him to stop and get on the ground. But he pushes on, wind blowing his hair as he runs down metal hallway after metal hallway, already wheezing. They'll catch up to him soon. Senku grits his teeth, fueled entirely by adrenaline and anger, as he makes a final sprint for the door.
The alarm instantly muffles once he gets outside. He's sweating and gasping for breath, but fresh air has never felt so good. The soldiers are right on his tail, and at this point, he knows it's a lost cause. He aims for the cornfield anyway, but before he can take another step, a heavy thud on the back of his head sends him face-first into the dirt. Everything goes black.
Deep down, he knew this was exactly how it'd play out.
But beneath his flippant exterior, he's been so much more scared and worried than he'd admit to anyone, including himself. He's afraid of being stuck here, afraid of failing his friends, afraid of turning into someone he doesn't know, and worst of all—he's afraid he likes being here more than he should. He's spent his entire life downplaying his emotions, keeping his heart protected with a snarky attitude and feigned insensitivity. The habit has only made it so much harder for him to process his feelings now that he can't deny them. The circumstances are too extreme. At least he felt the cool breeze on his skin, if only for a moment.
Suddenly, a wave of frigid water jolts Senku awake with a gasp. His lungs rattle hoarsely as he coughs up liquid—whether it's blood or water, he's not sure. His head spins and his vision blurs, but the details of his situation slowly come into view. He's propped up against the wall beneath one of the showers, fully clothed and dripping wet.
He can't breathe out of his nose, so water trickles continuously into his mouth as he heaves. His fallen hair clings to his face, and there's something tight around his neck. Everything hurts.
A blurry figure crouches before him.
"Ah, good. You're awake."
A cold-hot pain burns into his arm, and he chokes on his own gasp as a freshly put-out cigarette falls to the floor beside him. Without a moment to recover, a heavy slap echoes through the room, accompanied by searing pain across the left side of his face. Senku struggles to keep his head upright, vision closing in like a vignette, but a hand repeatedly taps his cheek to keep him conscious.
"Don't even think about passing out again."
"That's enough, Stan." Xeno stands tall in the background, arms folded and expression unforgiving. "For now."
The water shuts off, and Senku keels over, retching. Stanley grabs him by the hair and yanks his face back up, causing him to wince. His nose drips, and he's immediately met with the unmistakable metallic taste of blood.
"Did you forget your friends can be considered hostages too?" Stanley cocks his head.
Behind him, Xeno looks down on Senku with cruel contempt. "Perhaps we'll pick them off one by one," he taunts. "Which one first? That 'magician' we released, Mr. Gen? What about the childhood friend? I remember him. Or maybe the blonde girl?"
Senku tries to speak, but a gravelly cough replaces his voice. When Stanley lets go of his hair, his head instantly drops, and he realizes what's around his neck. A thick metal cuff barely gives him any room to breathe, and a heavy chain pulls him down.
"Take him back upstairs," Xeno orders.
Stanley throws him over his shoulder. On the way out, Senku catches his reflection in the mirror. He truly doesn't recognize himself anymore. Soaking wet, his hair hangs in front of his face. The water barely cleaned how dirtied his skin is, but it did form streaks that trail like invisible tears. Dilated in fear, his red eyes match the blood dripping from his nose and split lip. A bruise is already forming around his left eye.
He resists the urge to throw up for the entire climb upstairs.
And just like that, he's already back to that damn observatory. Stanley tears off his shoes and throws him onto the bed, chain bouncing hard on his chest as he falls back. Defeated, Senku winces as the glass dome ceiling comes into focus. He's never been so disappointed to see the stars.
As Stanley locks the chain to the bed frame, Xeno follows them inside.
"I'll talk to him. You can go."
Stanley hesitates, lighting a cigarette as he hangs back, but Xeno's gaze is unwaveringly cold. He stands stiffly with his arms folded and lips pressed together, looking down his nose at Senku in annoyance. He's clearly not to be argued with. Stanley exhales as he nods, and the door soon latches shut behind him.
Senku rolls to his side and tries his damnedest to stop his body from trembling in pain. Needing something to combat his bloody nose, he unravels the bandages from his arms. Unsympathetically, Xeno sneers down at him.
"Here I thought you wouldn't want to see me, but you've been vying for my attention like a petulant child throwing a tantrum."
Senku's voice rattles despite how snarky he tries to sound. "You're projecting."
"Why didn't you eat?"
"The food tastes like shit."
It takes everything in him to muster a challenging smirk. It's the least he can do with such a horrible excuse. It obviously does nothing to dent Xeno's composure—if anything, it's so pathetic that Xeno actually sits beside him. His long claws brush Senku's hair, still dripping wet, away from his face. Senku would give anything to tear himself away—to bite the hand that feeds him—but he just can't. His nose wrinkles in disgust as the room sways around him.
"You're too smart to think that would have worked," Xeno says without flattery. Senku knows he's right. Of course he is. Xeno holds his chin to force his gaze. "You do want to escape, but that's not why you did it, is it?"
After the beating Senku's been given, Xeno's grip feels gentle in comparison. It's grounding, more than anything. The room spins a little less when Senku unknowingly leans into it, subconsciously eager for the stability. For once, Xeno assesses him without any condescension.
"You actually enjoy being here more than you'd like to admit, don't you? You threw a tantrum when I didn't bring you to the lab."
It would be easier to hear the harsh truth if Xeno were belittling him with his typical patronizing glare. The sincerity on his face is so much worse. Uncomfortable, Senku tries to look away, but Xeno doesn't allow it.
"You think it's a beautiful room, too. And worst of all, you actually want to submit your body to your captor." Xeno tuts. "What would your friends think?"
"That's bullshit," Senku snickers through gritted teeth. "Don't flatter yourself."
Xeno smirks, like he knows something Senku doesn't.
"A glass observatory makes for an elegant prison cell, wouldn’t you agree?" He runs a single finger along Senku's chin as he leans over him, eyes narrowing. "I find it truly fitting for you, Senku. You keep your heart inside a glass cage as well, do you not? Protected and well-guarded as it may be, those walls are easy to see through."
Disoriented and powerless, Senku swallows hard. The tips of Xeno's claws roam slowly down his chest as he continues.
"Your feelings aren't as hidden as you think. It’s why your followers so willingly trust you, but it is also your weakness."
His fingers dip past his belt.
"What happens when it shatters?"
Xeno palms him over his tunic, and Senku bites his lip, pushing into it. He immediately cringes at himself, scrunching his eyes shut to avoid Xeno's reaction. He can hear the smug grin on his face anyway.
"Your body is honest, Senku."
"You're a pervert," Senku scoffs, as if he isn't already hard. "How long have you been lusting after me? Don't tell me it was back then, too."
He has to chuckle through such disgusting words to get them out. Xeno's hand immediately stops rubbing against him as he frowns.
"Of course not. Do you really think I'm that depraved?"
Senku pushes himself up on his forearms, challenging him.
"Honestly, yeah." He's lying. "I mean, your cringey little crush on me is the reason why you didn't have Stanley put a bullet in my skull in the first place, isn't it? You and I both know that would have been ten billion percent more efficient. How do you know I won't get free someday?"
Xeno suddenly stiffens, turning cold.
"That won't happen," he threatens. "And if it does, I won't hesitate to give Stanley the order next time."
"Are you sure about that?"
"You can try it again, if you'd like. Though I'd rather you not."
Senku lowers his eyebrows. "Maybe I will."
After a tense moment, Xeno softens.
"I'm afraid you misunderstand. I really did mean all of the things I said the other day," he says sincerely, sitting up straight. A claw slips beneath one of his gloves, lifting it. Senku's scowl fades as he watches him take them off, finger by finger.
"I truly do respect you. I don't wish to force you into something you don't want. Not in this sense, at least."
The metal claws clank against each other as Xeno tosses them aside.
"But you do want it, don't you?"
Senku throws his arms over his face. He knows his cheeks are turning pink just from the rising warmth alone. Torn in indecision, he bites his lip, tongue flitting against the dried blood.
Senku would never sacrifice himself for something if he could help it, but maybe letting Xeno have his way would really be the best course of action. Xeno is too smart to be manipulated, and he'd never believe in sudden cooperation or a change of heart. But he has lowered his guard before, and maybe he will again. Admitting to the things Xeno accused him of could be a good way for Senku to start. Maybe he could even sew some discord between Xeno and Stanley—not that he knows if it'd be beneficial for him or not. He's not sure how Stanley feels about Xeno feeling up his younger pupil and prisoner, but it can't be great…
He catches himself spiraling. Why is he looking for a reason to let it happen?
No way.
Xeno's hand slides up the underside of his leg, but Senku remains silent.
There's no way he wants this.
He would never, in ten billion years, want this.
So why isn't he stopping him? Why is his face flushing? Why is his heart pounding in his ears, asking him to set aside all reason for once in his life? That damn chemistry happening in his brain is too strong, stupidly influencing his body like he's a wild animal. Or maybe—just maybe—this is a psychological desire more than a physical one. Maybe he really does admire the man who opened his eyes to rocket building. Maybe he craves Xeno's knowledge, respect, and even his touch, for reasons less than logical. Maybe he just has to reach a breaking point to admit it.
Before his horrifying mental epiphany can truly strike, Xeno's hand wraps around his cock and gives an experimental stroke. Senku's eyes go wide as he flinches, shocked by an electrical current of endorphins. Suddenly, his injuries hurt a little less.
Xeno hums, pleased.
"You've never been touched like this before, have you?"
Senku shakes his head.
"Really?" Xeno jerks him off slowly, rolling his thumb over the dripping precum. "I'd have thought differently. People are drawn to you."
"I don't have time for that shit," Senku sneers through hitched breath. "It's stupidly unnecessary."
Xeno withdraws a small vial from his pocket. Senku can guess what it is—of course that bastard would prepare something like that and keep it on his person.
"But it's wise to appreciate form and pleasure, no?" Xeno pops the lid. "Human nature is able to tilt the evolutionary scales through pleasure-driven propagation. It's a truly elegant phenomenon explained and studied through science, after all."
"Yeah," Senku snorts. "'Cause a couple of dudes going at it are really carrying that—"
He gasps as the words are ripped from his throat. It makes him cough, lungs rattling.
"It feels good, doesn't it?"
Senku figured this was coming, but a warning would have been nice. Only the tip of Xeno's finger wiggles inside him, but it's an entirely new sensation. And no, it does not feel good—it feels uncomfortable as hell, and he launches up to push Xeno's hand away.
"Don't tell me you've never stimulated the prostate, Senku—do you need me to teach you about that, too?"
Xeno's arrogant, lopsided grin is damn near oppressive.
"Did you hear anything I just said?" Senku snaps aggressively, voice hoarse. "Why would I have?!"
Immune to his combativeness, Xeno finally opens Senku's tunic in full and slides it out from under him. Senku shivers, though not cold, and goosebumps erupt over his arms as he lies bare. Xeno drinks in the sight of every bruise that paints his body with splotches of yellow and purple. Every scar tells a different story from the past four years. Only the chain lies over him now, leading up to the metal cuff that digs fresh marks into his neck. For Senku, it's the first time being naked in the stone world has actually felt vulnerable. He usually bears no shame about anything, let alone something as trivial as the human body, but Xeno seems to be quite skilled at challenging that.
Xeno smears more of the lube on his fingers—some kind of water and glycerin mixture, Senku presumes—and circles his rim, hesitating.
"Do you trust me?"
Something trickles down Senku's temple—either a bead of sweat or a drop of water from his hair. He isn't sure.
"I mean, not really."
Xeno stares mercilessly until Senku admits defeat, nodding silently.
It's a little less uncomfortable now that he's expecting it. He covers his eyes and tries to relax as Xeno slowly eases a finger inside, curling it gently. It's not too unpleasant, but Senku doubts he'll ever get used to it. More than anything, it feels like an unwelcome intrusion. Xeno reaches deeper, prodding experimentally. Senku watches apprehensively until there it is—one stroke that feels different from the rest, reaching a spot inside him that makes his toes curl. That, in combination with Xeno's fingers toying with the head of his cock, sends a ripple of satisfaction throughout his entire body. An unfettered moan blurts past his lips, for which he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth.
Xeno coaxes him through it, letting him enjoy it just long enough for the hooks of addictive pleasure to sink in. Then, he teasingly stills the movement of his hands. His gaze slides slowly up the length of Senku's body, hoping to watch him writhe, and Senku's stomach does flips. That, too, is an unusual sensation for him, but he'll save the conflicted qualms about having 'butterflies' for another day. More pressing is his growing urge to grind onto Xeno's fingers, desperate to feel that lick of pleasure once more.
Xeno stares, waiting patiently.
"Hey." Senku's reprimand sounds more like a whine.
"Oh?" Xeno raises an eyebrow, scrunching the thick marks on his forehead. "What was that?"
He's such an asshole. Displeased about playing his smug little game, Senku tenses and looks away.
"Just… Come on."
"'Come on' and what?"
Senku's nose scrunches as he growls. "Are you really doing this?"
"I suppose I could chain your wrists up to the bed and leave you like this."
So you can go fuck your hand instead?
You wouldn't.
So what? Go ahead.
A variety of sardonic retorts fail to pass his lips. He can't risk Xeno calling him out on his bluff. They've been so violent with him today that he almost wouldn't be surprised if torture via blue balls and edging was next on the agenda.
He takes a deep, shaky breath, swallows his pride, and speaks with just the ghost of a whisper.
"Please."
"Hmm?"
Senku clicks his tongue. "Man, this—"
Xeno rubs against that spot again, applying more pressure than before, just to give him a taste of what he's missing. Senku's jaw goes slack as he squirms, granted only a moment of relief before it's torn away once again.
"What was that, Senku?"
Broken, he surrenders.
"Please don't stop," he says sincerely, heart racing. He covers his face as he fights through the lump in his throat. "Please. Are you fucking happy now? Please don't stop, it feels—"
Hot and wet, Xeno's tongue runs along the underside of his cock. Senku jolts up, doused in equal parts surprise, horror, and arousal. The room spins with the sudden movement, reminding him of the aches and pains he's ignoring, and he fists the bedsheets for stability. Truthfully, he didn't expect Xeno to give this much attention to his own pleasure. But Xeno seems to be enjoying it even more than he is, taking the opportunity to force a second finger inside of him. It hurts, but before Senku can protest, Xeno takes him fully into his mouth as a distraction.
Senku moans, entranced, as Xeno sinks until his nose presses against the little patch of white pubic hair. It's like he has absolutely no gag reflex; his throat hardly spasms, and his expression is unusually relaxed. His black eyelids rest peacefully as he effortlessly bobs his head—he's way too damn good at this, applying just enough pressure and swirling his tongue around Senku's tip when he rises. Just how much practice does he get? Damn, Stanley.
Senku's chest rises and falls exaggeratedly as he looks down, watching carefully. The stretch around Xeno's fingers is painful, but the view of his glistening lips as they slide up and down his cock is mesmerizing. For the first time, he can really start to see why people like this kind of thing. Xeno's fingers continue to curl, and after a particularly firm press, Senku's head falls back in unadulterated bliss. He whimpers, no longer able to keep his hips from grinding up into Xeno's mouth, then down onto his fingers, and back—desperate for release.
"Wait," he pants, catching himself. "I'm gonna come if you don't stop."
Xeno only picks up the pace, replacing his mouth with his fist and jerking him off as quickly as he can. The extra slide from his saliva squelches obscenely, and he licks his lips.
"Hey—!" Senku yells, voice straining. "Wait, you idiot!"
It's already too late. Unable to restrain himself, he's sent over the edge with a pained gasp. Xeno milks him through it, tightening his grip as he twists, painting spurts of white across Senku's stomach.
Senku falls back, completely limp. Clarity sets in, and it isn't pretty. His body instantly aches, injuries no longer hidden beneath the blanket of arousal, and he's suddenly hyper-aware of the fingers in his ass. Who's fingers are in his ass. He looks down at his stomach in disbelief. There's no way all of that came out of his dick.
As if reading his mind, Xeno stares at the mess and smirks. Much to Senku's dismay, he licks the cum off his fingers, looking incredibly proud of himself.
Disgust twists Senku's face beyond recognition. No matter how good the release felt, nothing is worth the way he feels now. It's like some kind of cruel joke. The punchline is that Xeno made him come just so that he'd be overstimulated while he has his way with him. There's no getting out of it now.
Xeno wipes his hands on the bedsheets and loosens his tie, possessed by insatiable hunger. He sheds his jacket, throwing it to the floor, and crawls over a beaten, bloodied, and broken Senku with such caution and care that it's almost ironic. He swirls a finger through the mess on Senku's stomach as if considering something, then gives in and leans to lick it straight off his skin. His tongue is warm and wet against him, roaming up his chest between sharp inhales and claiming Senku as his own. He pushes the chain out of the way and bites his shoulder, eliciting a sharp hiss, then slides up to capture his lips.
Senku slaps a hand over Xeno's mouth before he gets there.
"No."
"Oh..." Xeno grabs his wrist and forces it down. "Could it be you're saving your first kiss for someone?"
"Very funny," he deadpans. "I'm not going to dignify that with a response."
"I'll take that as a 'yes' then. I wonder who."
Senku rolls his eyes, brushing fallen hair away from his face.
"I am not. I just don't want to swap spit with you, old man. You just—" He looks down at the mess decorating his lower abs. "That's disgusting."
"On the contrary, I think you should taste it, too, Senku," Xeno taunts, swirling his fingers until they're well-coated in cum.
"No way. Don't even think about—"
He's cut off as Xeno forces them into his mouth. Startled ruby eyes meet endlessly dark, gleaming ones as Senku's throat spasms. Xeno's fingers are salty, bitter, and violating on his tongue. His bloody nose and the cuff around his neck only exacerbate what feels like impending suffocation, but it doesn't last for long. Xeno grabs Senku's jaw, keeping it open as he retracts his fingers and thrusts his tongue against the roof of his mouth instead.
Senku is prepared to absolutely detest what's happening, but somehow, it's not terrible. The way Xeno kisses is a reflection of him—arrogant, unafraid of a little blood, and taking what he wants. But he does it so well that it's 'truly elegant' and even a bit comforting. A true master, in every sense. Through twisted logic, Senku almost wishes it could last longer, considering what comes next.
Soon enough, Xeno tears himself away. By the time Senku's unfocused eyes open, he's already whipping off his belt and unbuttoning his pants. Senku's stomach does flips once again. Tired and overstimulated, he could ask him to wait just a minute longer. But he doesn't see much of a point. He doubts Xeno would oblige anyway.
Xeno gives himself a few hasty pumps as he pours out what's left from the vial of lube. Unfortunately, Senku somehow doubts that the reinvention of condoms has been a priority for the American colony. Without rubber trees, the next best option is pig bladder. Needless to say, he'd rather go without it. He trusts that Xeno is clean, anyway. Probably. He wonders if this is all a mistake, but it's too late to take it back now. He braces himself, tensely anticipating what's to come. His nerves don't go unnoticed.
"Relax," Xeno commands.
He can't.
Xeno folds his legs until his knees dent the mattress beside his shoulders. Senku takes the hint and holds them himself, nails digging into the soft skin of his inner thighs. He grits his teeth and rolls his head away, hiding behind the fallen white and green strands of hair, as Xeno lines himself up. But nothing comes.
"Look at me."
Senku peeks with just one eye, sparing a sidelong glance that's hardly obedient. Xeno's eyes narrow intimidatingly, causing the black petrification marks to stretch and conceal even the white of his sclera. Beneath his loosened collar and tie, his skin glistens with forming sweat, turning pink. A few strands of his hair, no longer neatly slicked back, hang over his forehead. It's strange to see him like this—though Senku knows he must look infinitely worse. Unsatisfied with Senku's side-eye, Xeno tugs just once on the chain for attention.
"Ow," Senku whines, even though it really didn't hurt.
"I said to relax." Xeno licks his lips. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Senku's aching head, the crusted blood on his face, the handful of bruises, and the burn mark on his arm say otherwise.
"A little late for that."
Xeno ignores him, lining himself up.
"For your own good, it would behoove you to relax rather than whine like a child."
As much as Senku would like to, he can't. He tries, but the moment Xeno slowly pushes inside, his entire body clenches against the intrusion. The inside corners of his eyebrows pull upward as he grinds his teeth, doing everything he can to keep from crying out in pain. When it feels like Xeno can't reach any deeper inside of him, he does. It starts to feel unending until Xeno finally stills.
"There," Xeno coos through a satisfied sigh. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
Yes, it was, Senku wants to say. Even if he could force out the words, they'd probably end up as an unintelligible whine. He bites his bottom lip instead, reopening the wound and causing blood to seep slowly from the torn skin. Xeno brushes it away with his thumb, enamored.
"Look at you, trying your best."
He pulls away just to snap his hips forward again, leaving Senku no time to determine if he's being sincere or just patronizing him as usual. Senku's arms quiver, and his grip on his thighs tightens. Xeno takes it slow, rocking into him at a cautious pace, but it's still enough for tears to form in the corners of Senku's eyes. He feels impossibly full, stretched too thin, and powerless to Xeno's desires. But the anxiety in his chest doesn't necessarily feel like such a bad thing, and in a way, it's nice to forget the rest of the world for a while. Even if it doesn't, he wants it to feel good.
Xeno wraps his hand around Senku's cock, now soft and spent, eager to reawaken the arousal he once felt. He's still too sensitive for it to feel like anything but tingling discomfort, though. It doesn't stop Xeno from trying anyway, ignoring Senku's hisses and flinches. But the longer he stays at it, grinding into him slowly, Senku's body eventually obeys. Maybe it always will for him.
Senku's growing erection stifles the discomfort at least somewhat, turning his tense muscles pliant, and Xeno takes the opportunity to increase his speed. Senku's legs immediately fall to Xeno's side as he squirms and whimpers under his breath. It's almost too much for Xeno to bear. His fingers dig bruises into Senku's hips as he fucks him hard, skin slapping on skin, unable to control the momentum of his rising pleasure.
It hurts so good that Senku's voice finally breaks free, making sounds he didn't think possible. Each unrestrained moan and whimper makes him recognize himself a little less, as if everything that makes him Ishigami Senku has been tossed aside for a moment of destructive pleasure. It's almost as if his soul has shattered, leaving him in pieces that need to be reassembled, and rendering him unable to deny his feelings any longer.
Tears roll from the corners of his eyes as his gaze goes in and out of focus. Xeno hovers over him, burying his face to nip teasingly at his ear. Like someone new entirely, Senku wraps his arms and legs around him, holding him tight. He can hear Xeno's smug little hum, but he doesn't care. He was right about everything. Senku really does want his respect and attention. He craves it. He truly admires his mentor and the time they've spent together, regardless of the circumstances. And right now, he no longer seems like his captor, an attempted dictator, or any of that bullshit—he's just the man who taught him the joys of rocket building. The man who shaped his life in so many ways, forever changing it.
Xeno's breathing picks up, warm against his ear.
"You feel so good, Senku."
The stuttered words make Senku's heart clench, and he moans obscenely against his will. There's no controlling anything anymore. Their lips crash together as Xeno reaches between them for Senku's cock, eager to see him come undone once again.
"I'm close," he whispers against Senku's lips. "Are you?"
Senku nods, voice slipping out as he pants in anticipation. Xeno groans in response.
"Let me hear it. Admit to me how much you liked it."
Right on cue—or perhaps, in obedience—Senku's eyes roll back as his body shakes violently. Drool and blood drip from his lips as he moans, letting out an unrestrained sob as he comes into Xeno's hand. Xeno finishes soon after, not bothering to pull out, with a face scrunched in pleasure and a quiet groan.
As the world reassembles around Senku, the first thing he notices is the uncomfortable sensation of something dripping from his asshole.
"Are you fucking—?" He covers his face in exasperation, inadvertently wiping his tears. "Inside? Really?"
Like he couldn't be bothered to give a shit, Xeno shrugs indifferently. "Sorry. I couldn't help it."
Right.
"I can help you clean it, if you—"
"No," Senku bites. "Just go away."
Xeno buttons his pants, then gathers his coat and fishes for something in its pocket. Sitting beside Senku, he twists a key in the cuff's lock and frees him from the restraint. His neck is noticeably red and irritated, and Senku rubs it sorely.
"Thanks," he mutters.
He pulls a blanket over himself and rolls away, unable to look Xeno in the eyes. He waits for him to leave, but nothing happens. He can still feel the dip of the mattress behind him where he sits.
"Did you have something to say to me or what?"
Xeno sighs.
"I wish we could have walked the same path, Senku." His gloves clink together as he picks them up. "We're really not as different as you think."
Does he really have to bring this up now?
"I don't give a shit about ruling over people, you know that."
"Yes. But you, too, sought power using science, did you not? How many people did you revive before building a weapon? Or before using gunpowder to maintain control over others?"
Three. He revived three. Senku wants to believe that his circumstances were different, but he knows they really weren't. No matter how many times humanity is reset, it will always tread down the path of violence and power. Science will always be used to level the playing field. That's just how it is.
He frowns, rolling over just to give a dirty look.
"Is this your idea of pillow talk?"
"My point," Xeno emphasizes, "is that I really do wish you would have joined me. If we worked together, no one on Earth would be able to stop us."
Senku raises an eyebrow. "If roles were reversed, would you submit to a stranger's demand for surrender?"
"If I had known it was you, I would have presented it as an offer."
"Sure—until I refused."
Xeno looks down softly.
"Perhaps that's true," he admits. Rising to his feet, he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket. He wets it at the wash stand before returning to Senku's side. "That doesn't mean your life here has to go to waste."
He reaches to wipe the dried blood from his face, but Senku rolls his head away in defiance. He's done talking. Giving up, Xeno sets the handkerchief beside him anyway and silently heads for the door.
"Wait," Senku calls, catching him just before he leaves. "Don't leave me cooped up in here again like that. I'll go batshit."
"I won't," Xeno promises. Then the door locks shut behind him.
Senku stares at the stars for a while, completely immobile.
He makes good use of that handkerchief eventually, cleaning himself up as best as his limited resources will allow. Once he crawls back into bed, he pulls his legs up to his chest and tries not to think about what happened. But Xeno's words linger stubbornly.
You keep your heart in a glass cage as well, do you not? Protected and well-guarded as it may be, those walls are easy to see through.
Suddenly, an idea strikes him, and he redirects his attention entirely. It's so absurdly simple that he face palms, laughing at himself under his breath. Why didn't he think of it sooner? The walls of this room are glass. He has a light source and a telescope. What else does he need?
It's possible the soldiers won't notice visual Morse code if it's coming from inside their fortress. It's possible they might not even notice it from the outside either, if his friends keep their messages short. At the very least, Japanese can act as a cipher. It obviously needs to be in the dead of night, and he just needs something thick enough to block out the light from his lamp. Covering and uncovering it at intervals should be enough to blink out a message. If he's cautious as hell, it just might work.
Senku leaps up, especially grateful that Xeno released him from the chain, and starts adjusting the telescope. If this were a 21st-century device, perhaps it'd be too advanced to focus on the building opposite the corn field. But the stone world has its perks, after all. He lifts a shelf off the empty bookshelf, drags the lantern to the window, and uses the wood to send his message in a lighted display of dots and dashes. He may as well relay a hint of information. An S.O.S. would be redundant.
Southeast door.
He watches intently for a response. It wouldn't be surprising if no one notices, and he accepts that he may have to try for several nights. But his friends are perceptive—he at least knows of one lioness who has the vision of a hawk.
After a few hours' worth of sporadic attempts, just as he's about to give up for the night, he spots a small flash through a window. The message is simple.
Digging tunnel.
Senku's eyes widen in surprise, then he chuckles softly. Not bad. No wonder it's taking them a while, considering the work they do for the Americans during the day. But it's an idea that's ten billion percent going to work. They'd never make it into the fortress otherwise. And with Gen, they can even create a map of the interior to plan their route.
Senku will do some planning of his own and run some calculations, then check in with them again in a few days. For now, he doesn't want to push his luck. He extinguishes the lamp, then wearily drags himself to bed.
For the first time in a long time, he feels a glimmer of hope. Things will work out. And exactly where he stands with Xeno, he'll determine another day. He knows one thing, though: They will claim victory in the end, but he won't give up on Xeno, either. He'll craft the new world with him, one way or another. He's sure of it. Exhilarating, indeed.
The bed sheets are filthy, and his body aches, but it's the most comfortable he's ever felt in his captivity. Xeno was right about him—he really doesn't mind it here. He loves doing science with his old mentor, and he admires him. It felt nice to be held by him, too. Maybe his heart really is on display, hidden behind transparent glass walls, but so be it. Senku's never been one to have shame.
The stars overhead seem a bit brighter than usual, mirroring his hope for the future. Deep down, however, he knows that current optimism is a bit forced. Without it, he'd be feeling too confused, and that's a reality he cannot accept.
So he simply doesn't.
Someday, he'll have to thank Xeno for the revelations and ideas he's had tonight, despite the guilt and conflicted feelings he's still battling.
You just keep teaching me things, don't you, Dr. X?
Sleep beckons, and Senku curls in on himself. He hugs his knees to his chest, vulnerable and overwhelmed, and tries to calm his racing mind. Things will work out—they have to. He can do this.
Tomorrow comes.