Drakkon's hands dripped an inordinate amount of blood, Ranger blood. His slender, elegant fingers belied an immense strength and lethality. How many helpless Rangers had found themselves gripped by their necks, hearts pounding rapidly against the warlord's fingertips, panicked eyes reflected back at them in Drakkon's ruby visor?
Such little effort on Drakkon's part as he almost casually snapped those necks; it was his favorite mode of execution. And that was only if you were lucky. A few tragic Rangers found themselves guests of honor in a hellish and blood soaked "party" where they were mauled by nightmarish creatures before Drakkon, who reclined on his throne impassively.
His face was almost beautiful. Patrician features and pale skin woven with black, delicate streaks extending from his temples and down his neck. The red scar contrasted sharply, dark hair sweeping the left side of his countenance. Drakkon's mouth was typically set in a patronizing smirk.
Older than the Tommy of this world, he was more muscular and solidly built, almost a grizzly bear of a man. The only thing keeping this deadly psychopath in check was the electrified collar adorning his neck. And that did nothing to muzzle his intrusive mind games allowing him to continue to prey in some form.
Jason had trouble reconciling this version of Tommy with his best friend and second hand. The Red Omega Ranger deftly flipped through screen after screen depicting Drakkon's battles, his brows knitted together and muscles tense. He hated that they were forced to bring this ticking time bomb with them, but he was the only one who could help them save the universe.
"Only so he can conquer it himself," he muttered under his breath as he tapped out of the main screen. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, his hand rubbing his eyes vigorously. He felt stiff and sore from so much sitting.
Guiltily, Jason's mind wondered back to the older man. In recent weeks, he found himself gazing at the madman more than normal. Drakkon was gorgeous to look at despite his violent history. An image rose in the Red Omega's mind of those cruel hands trailing along his thighs, lightly teasing as they approached his hips, his abdomen. A white gloved thumb brushing his lips before gliding to his neck, Drakkon's growl in his ear. Dangerous….
Jason hissed under his breath as he jerked himself from his thoughts. His body still tingled, and his blood pulsed with a primal need.
Even though he was a Ranger and tasked with saving the universe, he was still an 18 year old teenager full of raging hormones and desires. Here on Safehaven, there wasn't exactly an outlet for physical pleasure unless he considered Trini. They had dated briefly and while he greatly admired her, he couldn't bring himself to see using her that way. He couldn't have a relationship; he didn't have the time to commit to a partner in all the ways they deserved.
Pulling himself up, Jason stretched his aching muscles and tried to distract himself from his dilemma. Striding to the door, he decided a workout might help release some of his pent-up emotions and provide some stress relief.
The Omega leader briskly walked down the corridor to the training room, where it was private and quiet this time of night. For that, he was thankful; Jason didn't feel up to making conversation when so many confusing thoughts were warring in his mind.
How could he even look at Drakkon like that, especially after everything he had done? He was a narcissistic, homicidal sociopath who had conversations with an imaginary companion, Saba. Batshit crazy and with a God complex, Jason sure knew how to pick them.
Jason morphed into his Red Omega form and fell into ready stance. He moved deliberately through each move of the kata to warm up but his mind was still elsewhere.
Maybe it was because the attraction to Drakkon was taboo? It wasn't like he had fallen in the love with the madman; he just wanted to feel the aloof older man's hands on his body, stroking him with his fingertips, his tongue gliding over his skin, tasting Drakkon's mouth, Drakkon's teeth nipping his throat…..
Jason stumbled and caught himself, chest heaving. He shook his head sharply.
Focus.
Again, he assumed his ready stance and attempted to clear his mind. Unbeknownst to him, a shadowy figure had come to the doorway and silently observed the Ranger as he punched and kicked, twirled and dodged, totally absorbed in his kata.
Drakkon reclined in the doorway, a hateful grin on his face. He was bored as hell and in the mood to mentally fuck with one of the kiddos. Bound by his collar, he was unable to cause physical harm, but his tongue was sharp and he had zero issues crossing boundaries.
It was just his luck to find his favorite Ranger all alone and ripe for badgering.
"What do you think, Saba?" he whispered. "Red's been in a pissy mood lately. Pouting like a little princess." Grinning, Drakkon clucked his tongue.
His Jason could be stubborn and aggressive when pushed in battle. He was so much fun to play with, especially when Drakkon had kept him in his palace before sending him to the Deadlock. So defiant and resistant, enraged at being kept like a pet. Always trying to fight all those years. Eventually, Drakkon had shredded his sanity and locked him away, his friends believing he had died in their first encounter.
This was almost like starting over.
He was so wrapped up in his musings that he didn't notice the Red Omega Ranger had stopped his kata and was staring at him, arms crossed over his chest.
"You lost?" Jason growled.
Ignoring the comment, Drakkon heaved himself off the doorframe and fully entered the training room.
"You're up late on a school night, kiddo," he teased.
Not taking the bait, Jason answered. "I felt like working out. What's it to you?"
"Nothing, Red. I'm bored."
"Well, I'm sure your usual hobbies are considered capital offenses in this universe, Drakkon."
Drakkon grinned as he continued to approach Jason.
"So judgmental. I thought it might be fun to do a little sparring. Unless you're too timid," Drakkon eyed him slowly up and down. "Even with that extraordinary new power of yours."
"I'm not scared of you."
Dark eyes glittered menacing despite the jovial grin.
"Come on then, kiddo. Show me what you've got. Don't hold back. It's been a long time since I've had a worthy opponent."
Jason hesitated slightly. The older man was known for his psychological games as well as his physical prowess. Sensing the other's indecision, Drakkon pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his broad muscular chest adorned with mottled burns and vivid purple scars.
His finger traced lovingly the souvenirs of his victims as they fought in vain against him.
"They weren't worthy, but they tried. You know you want to test your power against me, Red Omega Ranger."
Jason growled in anger; his fists slowly clenched.
The final straw came when Drakkon whistled toward the younger man like dog.
A roar of anger and Jason was darting toward the former dictator. The two combatants traded blow after blow, some missing and others finding their target. Drakkon was faster and more agile than he appeared with his larger frame. Each punch and kick were jarring to the morphed Ranger despite his protective uniform. A particularly ferocious blow to his helmet almost stunned him.
Still reeling, Jason belted Drakkon across the face, causing his opponent to back away briefly. He grinned as he stared down the Red Omega and spit a mouthful of blood on the floor.
"That's a good boy, Red. You are a skilled warrior."
He let the weight of his last sentence linger as Jason's skin chilled hearing that haunting phrase from one of the most traumatic events of his life. Drakkon continued to grin, his teeth stained red.
"Awww, what's wrong? Seeing ghosts of Christmas past?" he chuckled. "I don't suppose your dear best friend told you what was going through his mind when he tried to butcher you in the Dark Dimension. How your fear and pain aroused him?"
"Shut up and keep fighting, Drakkon. Unless you're too tired, old man." Jason seethed.
Spitting more blood, the evil former Ranger obliged. The battle was becoming more destructive as both men slammed one another against walls and equipment. Jason could taste blood in his own mouth and his left arm started to throb.
And still, perversely, he felt a thrill of excitement whenever Drakkon touched him. The way he grabbed Jason around the waist, his powerful hands digging into his hips. Or when he subdued the Red Omega's arm and pulled him against his glistening chest. Jason's gloved shoving at the wall of muscle to free himself, feeling the broad expanse and gliding over his nipple.
Drakkon deftly tackled the Red Omega Ranger to the ground where they continued to grapple ferociously. The older man felt fully in his element, exhilarated as he sought the vulnerable neck. But again and again, the Ranger slipped his hold, frustrating Drakkon but at the same time he still appreciated the younger man's skill. He thoroughly enjoyed having a foe who could give as good as he got and could hold his own under the onslaught.
Finally, the older man managed to pin the younger one under him, both the Omega's wrists ensnared in one viselike hand. There was no way for Jason to engage the electric collar and he lay vulnerable as Drakkon's finger trailed down the front of his neck following his delicate windpipe.
"Get off me," he rasped.
Snickering, Drakkon teased, "Easy, little one. If I wanted to, I could have taken that pretty katana of yours and impaled you when you first freed me. I know I need you and your little friends alive. For now."
Drakkon's muscular thigh grazed the Omega's silk clad one, before coming to rest against a throbbing hardness. Jason gasped at the fire that immediately raced through his veins. A broad grin spread across Drakkon's face and he laughed heartily.
"Well, this is unexpected. But now I see why you've been so pouty lately."
He slowly licked his lips as his smile faded and he regarded Jason thoughtfully. Then he deliberately shifted his thigh to stroke against his opponent's erection again, causing the Red Omega to rock his hips reflexively.
"Do you even know how to use this, little Omega? I doubt you'd know what to do with me, kiddo," he whispered smugly.
Anger and embarrassment caused Jason's cheeks to burn.
"Fuck you," he snarled.
Again, Drakkon's chest rumbled with laughter.
"I don't think you're quite ready for that. But maybe, we can help each other out," he grinned. "Since you think you know what you're doing, prove it."
In one fluid movement, he rolled swiftly pulling the Red Omega over to sit astride him. He released his hold and moved his hands to rest behind his head.
Panting, Jason jumped to his feet and back away, his chest heaving and heart pounding. His legs felt weak and coltish.
Drakkon remained sprawled on the ground, legs akimbo, his own erection straining his trousers. He smirked up at Jason's shaking form.
"If you don't know, I can always teach you, little one," he offered. "That could be fun, don't you think?"
"I think you need to go back to your quarters, old man," he growled.
"Old man, hmm?" Drakkon smiled. "You're 18, Jason. I may have 20 years on you but I remember those teenage hormones are a bitch." He moved to sit up and stroked his chin. "And if you think about, I have 20 years of experience drawing out intense sensations in the human body. Not all of them were of the painful variety."
"And I'm not exactly robbing the cradle. Well, maybe a little," he leered. "Come on, little lamb," Drakkon cooed. "Let's dirty that pretty white fleece a little."
Jason turned sharply on his heel and swiftly ducked through the door, trying to calm himself before he encountered anyone. Entering his room, he turned and bolted the door before leaning heavily upon it. His breathing echoed in his helmet as he rested his forehead against the wood.
Did that just happen? He gulped nervously. Of course, he'd made himself look weak and vulnerable in front of a murderous warlord. One he had to keep in line, so he didn't take more innocent lives. Pulling his head back, he suddenly rapped it sharply against the door.
Heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway; they slowed to a stop outside Jason's room.
"My offer is a standing one, little Omega," Drakkon purred. "You know where to find me."
Then, he moved off down the corridor, footsteps slowly fading away.
Drakkon reached his chambers, laughing so hard he almost doubled over. That was more fun than he had anticipated. He had relished the all out fight and he even had a new avenue of harassment for Jason. He knew the Ranger would tuck tail and run.
He flopped back on his bunk, the cool air chilling the sweat on his skin.
"Mmmm, what's that, Saba? You're disappointed he didn't want to play with us?"
Drakkon hummed softly in his throat, listening to the voice resonating in his mind.
"Yes, I suppose it could have been a lot of fun. Its been a long time since we've had a playmate."
Years had passed and he'd realized after gaining power after power that he no longer had a desire for lover. He had a distaste for weak and powerless partners. At first, they had served to fulfill a basic, physical need but as his power grew, that need subsided. He craved someone more complex.
Drakkon had considered his own Jason, but then the former Red Ranger chose that point in time to succumb to his mind games. Once he was broken, he was no longer any fun. So he finally moved him to the Deadlock.
"I know Saba, but he's very young. He probably doesn't even know how to kiss properly. Or how to do anything else involving his mouth. Definitely a virgin. We'd be starting from scratch. It will be like training a puppy."
He tapped a finger to his lips.
"We could train him properly though. Mold him into what we want. Then when this mission of ours is concluded, it'll be his turn in the electric collar." He grinned slyly. "Yes, I do think I'd love to have another pet."
