REC: Star Trek (2009)
I am *so* wrong. I know it.
Black Holes & Revelations by rubynye
NC-17
Chekov/Original Tentacular Character, Chekov/Sulu, Chekov/Math
*tentacle porn*
Warning: Extremely dubious consent
I just couldn't resist. And amazingly, it's not the tentacle porn that really gets you in this short one-shot, it's the Chekov/Math. Really:
And as it pushes into him, filling and stroking him just this side of too much, the Mathematician sends him a foursquare matrix in four directions, a tesseract of tensors. What is this? Pavel doesn't know if he's asking about the tentacle swelling inside him or the novel math inserted into his buzzing head.
A simplified description of a time-linked singularity the Mathematician says, its tones soothing, coaxing. Is it not beautiful? You taste beautiful. Give me more of your pleasure.
The matrix is beautiful, the interwoven edges of a gap in the universe. Sensations whisper all over Pavel's skin, crackling up his spine, and this is unexpected and unasked for but he is moaning, twisting within the tentacles, his body responding to being stroked and licked inside and out. Feathery touches trail between his thighs and over his collarbones, his lips buzz with strain, and all he can see is the math pushed into his head.
His thoughts whirling, Pavel can feel the Mathematician riffle through them like fingers through hair, parting and retwining them, the sheer physical pleasure, the mathematical wonder, the surprise and embarrassment and confusion. He wants to resent this, he does, but it's new and unexpected and he will come if it keeps up, heat twisting in his belly, crackles of fire encroaching on his mind.
Black Holes & Revelations by rubynye
NC-17
Chekov/Original Tentacular Character, Chekov/Sulu, Chekov/Math
*tentacle porn*
Warning: Extremely dubious consent
I just couldn't resist. And amazingly, it's not the tentacle porn that really gets you in this short one-shot, it's the Chekov/Math. Really:
And as it pushes into him, filling and stroking him just this side of too much, the Mathematician sends him a foursquare matrix in four directions, a tesseract of tensors. What is this? Pavel doesn't know if he's asking about the tentacle swelling inside him or the novel math inserted into his buzzing head.
A simplified description of a time-linked singularity the Mathematician says, its tones soothing, coaxing. Is it not beautiful? You taste beautiful. Give me more of your pleasure.
The matrix is beautiful, the interwoven edges of a gap in the universe. Sensations whisper all over Pavel's skin, crackling up his spine, and this is unexpected and unasked for but he is moaning, twisting within the tentacles, his body responding to being stroked and licked inside and out. Feathery touches trail between his thighs and over his collarbones, his lips buzz with strain, and all he can see is the math pushed into his head.
His thoughts whirling, Pavel can feel the Mathematician riffle through them like fingers through hair, parting and retwining them, the sheer physical pleasure, the mathematical wonder, the surprise and embarrassment and confusion. He wants to resent this, he does, but it's new and unexpected and he will come if it keeps up, heat twisting in his belly, crackles of fire encroaching on his mind.