The Life on Mars Anonymous Pornfest
Please Note: I've declared the Pornfest over (as I can't be bothered to keep the prompt list up-to-date!) So any new prompts posted will be deleted. However, I do encourage you to post any anon fic in response to the existing prompts and comment on the lovely responses that we've already got
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Annie, bless her soul, has gone to fix him a cuppa.
And at 4.36pm - he knows, 'cause he looked at his watch and was just about to holler for the lazy bastard - Sam Tyler strode in.
Only - he knows now - it wasn't Sam Tyler.
Of course it wasn't.
Sam Tyler never made his skin crawl.
*
He likes Gene on his knees, the twisted bastard. Doesn't like losing the height at advantage so he makes Gene crawl up to him, hands behind his back and head bowed, like a fucking kicked puppy. Makes Gene kiss his hands, palms open, open-mouthed, helpless and so full of hatred it must be visible in every movement.
He likes that. Of course he does, the sick bastard. He got bored of Annie too easily: she was too soft, too sweet and young and trusting, and one night, a few weeks after He first arrived, she crawled into Gene's lap and looked up at him with dead eyes.
Gene didn't die so easily.
"You're strong, aren't you?" The-thing-that-was-Sam strokes Gene's hair, almost fondling it with elaborate touches. It's long, now, a lot longer than Gene likes it; long enough to tug Gene's head backwards so his mouth gapes open. Long enough to hold him there, anchored, and nudge hot, swollen flesh against his lips.
(Gene makes himself not bite down. He will not break so easily. He will not.)
"I love that you're so strong, Gene. Everyone on this dreary little world is so fucking fragile, it makes me want to scream. They all die so easiyl; I could eat and eat and eat and I wouldn't ever be full." The flesh is inside Gene's mouth now, hot and thick against his tongue.
It's funny. Even if he hadn't known at this point, it would be the taste that would be the giveaway. The thing inside his mouth, the thing fucking him, doesn't taste like Sam; no, not at all.
He spends his days on his knees, now, and it's stupid to wish that he'd done this more often for Sam; that he could more readily call to mind the unique taste and smell and feel and sound of Sam breaking apart beneath up.
(He suspects that it was the first thing that the-thing-not-Sam had eaten.)
"Yes - yes, that's it. That's it, Gene, take it all -"
He opens his mouth wider, flattening his tongue and letting the thick length slide a little further down his throat. The new angle tips his head back a little; enough to catch not-Sam's inquisitive, hungry gaze.
Gene makes a helpless sound as another tiny part of him is clawed away; like stripping meat from a carcass.
"Yes," Sam-that-is-not-Sam gasps, eyes wide and hungry. "My god, you're magnificent -"
*
Annie - sweet, trusting Annie - lasted barely a month before there was nothing left of her. Gene's stronger, of course, and there was always the tiniest part of him that never trusted Sam. (So why would he have trusted this thing that wears Sam's skin like a freshly skinned pelt?)
He almost survives the year.
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