#jen fic

[wewerenotthefirst]

sitting here reading jen fic and being a sad sack bc i miss her so much

if you guys haven't had the pleasure of reading jen fic, y'all are missing out

she's an absolutely lovely writer and my favorite person in the whole wide world.

now go read, you crazy kids

[wewerenotthefirst]

LSAT remedy for my darling!

They've kissed a few times for a long time until their lips turned red and swollen, bee-stung. They've let their hands wander, mostly over clothed flesh. They've pushed against each other until they came, bruises blossoming where their fingers dug in.

But they haven't had sex yet, not like Matthew has yearned for, even though his attraction to his counterpart is quite overwhelming, an entirely welcome distraction.

It's not Matthew's fault, really, he's pretty sure he has broadcasted his attraction enough to be clearly understood. He wants into Matt's pants rather badly these days. Or to have Matt get in his. He's not picky.

But Matt has been very careful, very slow about them getting naked together.

Tonight, though, it feels like Matthew might get what he wants.

(Though maybe not what he is expecting.)

They stop kissing for an instant, a second, and Matt draws back, puts a hand against Matthew's lips. It's a wish for silence, for time, and the turmoil in those red-purple eyes is warning Matthew to be very, very careful.

Matt runs a hand through his messy, unbound hair, and sighs deeply.

"I'm not like you," he says after catching his breath. "My people believe the old tales too much, Matthew, and that changed me. I'm not-" Matthew has to lean forward to catch his counterpart's last words as they try to disappear entirely.

"- entirely human."

That's not Matthew was expecting, not at all, and he doesn't really know what to say, how to answer something like this.

Luckily, Matt still isn't looking at him and doesn't notice his hesitation.

"Let's say that I have some more limbs than I should." Matt's grimace is fleeting, but his voice is full of self-disgust and hatred. Matthew hates his tone, the way Matt's hands clench into tight fists on his lap.

"What - "

"No, Matthew, let me finish," Matt cuts in, the bags under his eyes suddenly so stark and heavy in his pale face.

Matt breathes deeply again, as though forcing himself to continue talking.

"These limbs, Matthew, they take a lot of control to keep away. If we have sex, well," Matt's mouth twists bitterly, the remnants of terrible memories tainting his eyes. "They'll come out to play."

"They won't hurt you, of course, because they respond to my emotions, but they're unusual." And I don't want to scare you away remains unsaid.

Matthew takes a second to think about this, about Matt having extra limbs (and isn't that a vague description?) and about where he's been hiding them. Thinks about what they could be, about fur and scales and maybe even just normal skin, just extra.

He sees Matt's strong yet forlorn figure, the way he's expecting, by the slump of his shoulders, to be rejected.

And chooses instantly.

"Well, if they won't hurt me, why would they be a problem?" Matthew says, keeping his tone level by will and the affection he has for this man, his counterpart, so obviously vulnerable right now.

Matt turns to him at last, abandoning his deep study of his knees, and his eyes are wide and astonished.

Unbelieving.

"If you're concerned, Matt, just show them to me and let me decide. I'm sure they aren't so bad."

Matthew isn't sure what his face shows, the determination to make this better, the curiosity nipping at his fingers or the reassurance he's trying to project, but he's happy to see Matt stand up from the bed without protest, though the way he reaches for his shirt is slow, hesitant.

Then he squares his shoulders and drops his shirt to the floor quickly, the bandages around his chest, the ones Matthew has glimpsed once of twice, torn off without ceremony.

There's a tattoo on the skin there, something black and circular, but Matthew doesn't get a good look at it.

Because things are emerging from Matt's skin. Limbs. Long thin limbs that look smooth and flexible as they extend on and on above Matt's head, curling as they reach the ceiling. There's a few of them, at least four.

Tentacles.

And behind them there is Matt, still expecting Matthew to run away, to be disgusted, to scream.

But Matthew isn't any of these things. He's looking at the limbs, at the way they bend and flow, at their peculiar pearly colour. And he's imagining all sorts of things, none of them quite normal.

Matthew has a strong libido, all in all, and he hasn't had sex in months by his reckoning. He's horny. And damn if these extra limbs Matt is so ashamed of don't look handy.

He licks his lips unconsciously, imagines being held down (or up in the air, depending on how strong the tentacles are) and being fucked long and hard. Of sucking Matt off while the things play with him. Of a thousand uses for them.

The weird sound Matt makes brings Matthew back down to earth, and to his embarrassingly tented pants.

"You're turned on?" Matt asks, his voice strangled. There's also a surprising glow in his eyes, lust and something of wonder at Matthew's reaction.

"Well. " Matthew clears his throat, surprised at how huskily the word came out. "Well, Matt… I can only imagine what you might use these for."

Matthew tries for a coy look as he says that, tries to not look as though he just wants Matt to pounce on him. Which he does.

And he might not have succeeded, because Matt's lips are curling up into something dangerous and incredibly predatory. And suddenly he start stalking towards the bed, the tentacles already reaching for Matthew's clothes.

"Do you want to find out?" he asks.

Matthew doesn't take the time to answer. He's already busy with other things.

He's also delighted, later in the night, to find out that the tentacles are indeed very, very strong.