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Trep found Blue - his body awkwardly slumped against the calibration systems in Electrical, partially congealed blood baked around his slit throat - and he knew. Trep had no choice but to know, because with Blue dead, there was only one person left who could be responsible for the deaths of the crew. Well, two people, Trep supposed - but seeing as he hadn't been killing anyone, the answer was obvious.
Trep's heart was practically in his feet as he turned and ran from Electrical. As he moved, he slipped the knife he'd taken to carrying from his utility belt and held it firmly in hand. He had no idea where Red - their Captain, of all people - was, but Trep would be prepared for the Impostor when he inevitably hunted him down.
Except…Red didn't. On high alert, Trep kept moving, kept running - Impostors had heightened senses of smell so there was nowhere Trep could hide, and no spot he could think of small enough to keep an Impostor out. So Trep kept moving, sometimes sprinting and other times slipping quietly around corners, all the while keeping his knife in hand.
Hours passed, though, with not so much as a sign of Red. Trep knew he couldn't just keep running - eventually, Red would tire of the game and he'd find him. If nothing else, Trep would have to sleep eventually. If Trep wanted to survive - well and truly survive - he had to get the Skeld back on course for Earth.
That was how he found himself in Navigations. He sat lightly in the Captain's chair, knife held between his teeth as he punched at the console in front of him. All crew were trained in navigation - for exactly this sort of situation - but the console was slow to respond. After the third time of trying to map the appropriate path, only for the screen to glitch out and truncate the process, Trep let out a soft growl of annoyance and smacked at the console with a fist.
"You seem like you could use a hand, Cyan," the sudden voice, low and soft right into his ear from the figure Trep had not heard approach, froze the blood in Trep's veins. Thankfully, his body was more prepared than his mind, and it put the constant anticipation he'd been feeling to good use. He grabbed the knife from his mouth and stabbed it back as he swung his chair around.
There was a grunt - Red took a single step back, one hand going for the wound Trep's knife had left in his abdomen. With a tug, Trep freed the knife and launched himself from the chair, taking as wide a berth around Red as Trep could afford as he fled. As Trep flung himself around the corner of the hallway, he heard feet hit the ground as Red gave pursuit.
Trep wasn't stupid enough to believe he could outrun Red for long - it was about positioning himself somewhere where he could put up more of a fight. Storage would be a good start - wide, with multiple exits. If Trep could get a good hit or two on Red there, then run again, maybe he could outlast the Impostor. Humans were endurance hunters, right? Surely they could also be endurance prey.
Trep didn't expect Red to slip from the vent near Shields - didn't expect to suddenly find the Impostor launching at him from ahead. Trep hit the ground hard as Red tackled him - and Trep pushed himself through the sudden loss of air to fight. He tried to stab at Red again - only to feel the knife wrenched from his hand and hear it skitter away. Then his arm was pinned tight against his cheek, bound there by a thick, heavy tentacle that wrapped around Trep's head and neck, leaving only his eyes free. Red squeezed tight enough that breathing quickly became difficult, even as similar appendages were wrapping tight all along Trep's body. His other arm was pinned to his side, while his legs seemed to be held by the sheer strength of Red's prehensile limbs.
Trep did not let that stop him from fighting - he strained against Red's hold and tried to thrash his way free. But no matter the strength he brought to bear, no matter how desperate and primal his fight - before long he couldn't move at all, and was only left straining against an immovable force.
His head was growing light - if he could move, his chest would be heaving with his effort to draw in breaths around the mass covering his mouth and nose.
Red was casual as he rested one elbow on the ground and laid himself more firmly down against Trep. His free hand reached for Trep's head, and the Impostor slipped his fingers between the curls of his own tentacle until he could trail the tops of his fingers lightly against Trep's cheek. Trep's body jerked at the sudden sensation - although he was bound so tight there was no outward movement.
"You have quite a lot of spirit, Cyan, don't you? Consider me impressed." Red hummed slightly, his fingers still trailing flaming lines across Trep's skin. "Still, even you need oxygen - if I loosen up, are you going to behave yourself?" His lips twitched, and he looked near to grinning as he brought his face closer to Trep's. "Something tells me the answer is no…but let's see."
Well, Trep would have hated to disappoint. When the tentacle gripping his head loosened just enough, Trep latched onto it with his teeth and bit down as hard as his jaw would allow. Red's response was a deep and guttural hiss. Trep felt the tentacle try to pull away, but when he held strong, it tightened its hold on him once more. It squeezed and squeezed - Trep was sure Red would crush his head and arm besides, but still Trep held on.
Then there was a pinch at Trep's side, and it quickly built into a searing, burning pain as Red slowly sunk his claws deeper and deeper into Trep's flesh. Trep tried to maintain his bite on Red's tentacle, but as that burning pain rose to near unbearable levels, he couldn't help but slacken his jaw as he gave a pained groan in effort to stop a scream. Red's appendage slipped away from Trep's mouth, and almost immediately the claws retracted - it left Trep panting, both at the lingering pain and at the desperate gasp for oxygen.
He tried once to bring his now free hand up to at least strike Red - but Red was prepared. Another tentacle - and Trep couldn't help but wonder how many the Impostor had - lashed out and quickly pinned his arm to the floor.
"I expected no less. You humans sure have a hell of a grip in those jaws of yours, don't you? What a pleasant surprise," Red said, the purr of his voice concealing any residual anger or pain from Trep's actions.
"Fuck you," Trep spat in return.
"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Red asked without missing a beat. Trep's heart staggered, and he couldn't help the way he jerked - or tried to anyway - at the sudden sensation of something wet dragging across the very spot Red had sunk his claws into. When the appendage began to undulate and lick, Trep realized it was a tongue. Thick, heavy - and Trep didn't understand because Red's face was still inches from his own and there was still a tongue in his fanged mouth and how was he doing that?
"Do you think I've never noticed the way you've watched me, Cyan?" Red continued as if nothing was amiss, even as his tongue dipped a little too deep into one of the wounds his claws had left and Trep couldn't quite stifle a pained cry. "Remember that day in storage, when we were moving all those boxes? I'm sorry to have to tell you that you weren't at all subtle, with the way you were staring at me. Would you like to know a secret, though?" Red dipped his head closer still, and as he licked a long strip along Trep's neck and his words brushed at the hairs there, Trep's body erupted into gooseflesh.
"I've been looking too."
"Get off me!" Trep exploded, even as he tried once again to violently thrash against the immovable hold Red had him locked in.
"Now Cyan, be honest with yourself. Is that really what you want?" There was a subtle shifting of Red's tentacles - one slipped beneath the rest and trailed it's way down Trep's suit. It followed the contours of his body, pressing close all the while, and when it curled beneath him and cradled his groin in a hold tight enough to feel even through the suit, Trep gasped. When the tentacle began to rock in place, Trep had to fight not to press against it in return.
"We don't have to be enemies, you and I," Red murmured. There was the sensation of other tentacles touching, probing - the sound of clasps and zippers being undone. "I don't have to kill you, and you don't have to pretend you're not enjoying every second of this."
"You're a degenerate - and I'm not - I'm - fuck -" Trep cut himself off in a hiss. That time, he couldn't help but press himself upward against Red as the tentacle drew itself up in a long, agonizingly slow pull against Trep's groin - even as another slipped beneath his partially undone suit and slithered its way over his bare skin. Trep wasn't sure when Red had loosened his hold enough to allow for these movements - but when Red suddenly nipped and then suckled at a spot at the base of Trep's jaw, any thoughts of fighting were smothered.
"You're so sensitive," Red murmured, even as he repeated the action in a hot path down Trep's neck. Trep's hand was free, and some part of him knew he should use it to fight - but instead he brought it up and cupped it around the back of Red's neck, doing his best to press the man's face - his teeth - even closer. Red chuckled in response, and the next time he bit down he sank his teeth in further still - and a deep throated, unbidden groan escaped Trep.
Trep almost complained when Red pulled away, but a sudden jerk against his groin cut off any words he might have said.
"Look at you," Red purred. He rested a hand against Trep's cheek, and the tip of a claw trailed idly beneath Trep's eye. "You're loving this - wrapped inside my tentacles, letting me touch and bite you. Who's the real degenerate here, hm, Cyan? You'd be begging me if your pride would let you."
Trep opened his mouth to retort, but before he could Red surged down to meet him. The Impostor's lips were chilled as they pressed tight against Trep's - it was a stark contrast to the warmth of the thick, prehensile tongue that pushed its way past Trep's lips. He should bite it, he knew he should - but as Red's tongue tangled around his own and the air was filled with the nearly obscene noises of the Impostor mawing and sucking at Trep's lips, it was all the human could do to breathe into the sensations.
Red's tentacle was moving again, this time slipping back and forth against Trep's groin in quickening strokes. By the time Trep realized he was bucking against it, he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd even wanted to.
He didn't know if he wanted to or not.
Red didn't stop his attention at Trep's groin as his tongue slipped from the humans mouth. Trep could do little but give Red a questioning look, even as the Impostor stared down at him with glittering white eyes and a slight flush in his dark cheeks. A hand came up, and Trep felt Red slip a clawed finger into the corner of his mouth. Red pulled down slightly, even as the rest of his hand curled around Trep's chin.
"Can't let you have all the fun now, can I? Open wide, darlin'."
Unbidden, Trep did as requested and opened his mouth wider at Red's prodding. Something pressed against Trep's abdomen, and then glided its way up between Red and Trep. A head - blunter than Red's tentacles and almost circular in shape - pressed briefly against Trep's mouth. It almost seemed to shrink, just slightly, as it pushed its way in past his teeth. It was big enough to stretch his jaw, and Trep groaned softly around it as he unconsciously tilted his head back.
"There you go, pretty," Red almost cooed. His hand went to Trep's hair, and he pulled the human's head back even further as another hand trailed back and forth over the length of Trep's throat. All the while, Red's strange new appendage pressed further and further into Trep's mouth - and further still, until Trep felt it pushing its way down his throat.
"Stars, that's perfect," Red hissed, his own words all at once breathless. When Trep lifted a hand and wrapped it around the appendage, Red jolted and abruptly arched down against Trep. The appendage shoved deeper still into Trep's throat, and he choked as the intrusion cut off his air entirely.
"Keep touching, I'll -" Red cut off with another soft hiss. The appendage began to slide out of Trep's throat - just far enough that he was able to draw in a quick, ragged gasp before the tendril plunged deep inside again. This became a pattern as Red curled closer still to Trep and fucked the tendril deep into the human's mouth. Red's breathing turned to ragged panting, even as Trep held the tendril where he could reach it and let it pass through his hand like a sleeve.
All the while, the tentacle Red had playing over Trep's groin never stopped - only pressed harder and pulled faster and really the human was no better off as he thrust up against Red in near desperation and struggled to draw his own, gasping breaths.
Red's snarl was sudden and vicious as he all at once gripped Trep's hair near strong enough to rip it out. The tendril in Trep's gullet froze in place, and the human grunted in surprise as a wave of hot slick rippled down his throat. The sensation, Red's animalistic snarling, and the continued groping of his own groin was enough to send Trep over soon after. He pressed up hard against Red as his whole body went stiff and a flush of heat washed through him - the world narrowed around him as he rode his own orgasm, and he vaguely heard himself all but whine around Red's tendril.
Human and Impostor panted together as they both began to slowly unwind. Trep sank into the ground beneath him, and coughed softly as Red's appendage slipped free from his mouth. Trep swallowed, but still felt wetness pool at the side of his lips - slick that Red was quick to duck down and lick away. Trep struggled weakly against the sensation as Red continued to lap up his own spend, and Trep's drool, and even the small dribbling of tears at Trep's eyes.
Red kissed Trep again, even as his tentacles unwound from the human's body and seemed to tuck themselves away back into his body proper. This kiss was soft, tender - a little toothy, perhaps, but free from long tongues or other appendages. Trep found himself returning it before he even realized it - but still, he couldn't stifle his anticipation and dread as Red pulled away entirely.
Trep was still pinned beneath the Impostor, and Red had gotten his use from the human. A fresh wave of adrenaline spiked down Trep's nerves as he prepared to fight, or run, or maybe simply anticipate whatever method Red used to dispatch him.
"You worry too much," Red purred as he once more stroked Trep's cheek with a finger. "Do you really think I would kill you now, after all of that?"
"You've gotten what you wanted -"
"Oh, but there's so much more I could get from you still. Plenty of fun left for us both to have." All at once, Red pushed himself away and got to his feet. He eyed Trep, who for a moment could do little else but lay there, pinned beneath Red's gaze. Then, Red held out a hand, and Trep stared at it for a long moment.
"You were always my favorite, Cyan. I'd much rather keep you around. Surely you can't find fault in that?" Red paused, tilted his head, and then smirked at Trep - the emotion glittering in his eyes. "Wouldn't you like to see what else I can do with all those tentacles?"
After another long minute, Trep finally reached up and took Red's hand. The Impostor hefted the human to his feet, and when Trep found his legs embarrassingly weak and very nearly stumbled, Red grabbed onto him and held him steady. Red's smirk widened as he looked down to Trep, and still only more as Trep glared back at him in return.
"That's what I thought."