Cat’s Eye

By Morticia

Part 5  

Tuvok moved so quickly off the bio-bed that he caught Chakotay off-balance and they both crashed to the Sickbay floor in a thrashing tangle of limbs.

Yet Chakotay knew how to fall properly, how not to be winded even by the considerable weight of a fully-grown Vulcan crushing him to the floor. Years of boxing enabled him to roll out from under Tuvok’s body, using Tuvok’s own momentum to scramble forwards until he could thrust himself back to his feet.

He was barely upright before the enraged Vulcan launched himself at the back of Chakotay’s legs, his whole bodyweight connecting with the back of Chakotay’s knees, causing him to stagger and fall forwards, his palms striking the floor first to cushion the impact of the floor on his kneecaps.

Instinctively, Chakotay plunged his right elbow back, punching the bone of his arm into Tuvok’s mouth so violently that he felt Tuvok’s teeth and blood splatter against the back of his thighs.

Tuvok’s shock and pain at the blow allowed Chakotay to spin around on his knees until he was facing the Vulcan. Before Tuvok’s dazed eyes could refocus Chakotay punched him again, a vicious left-handed jab in the chest swiftly followed by a punishing blow against the right side of Tuvok’s head. Fresh blood streamed from Tuvok’s mouth and he swayed under Chakotay’s self-protective blows.

A second left-handed punch against Tuvok’s chest allowed Chakotay to scurry backwards once more and he again attempted to rise to his feet, only to slip on the bloodstained floor. His momentary disorientation, as his feet slid under him unable to find purchase, was enough for Tuvok to break free of his dazed bewilderment at Chakotay’s apparent refusal to mate with him.

With a roar of fury, Tuvok sprang forward, as swift and lithe as a panther. His forehead connected with Chakotay’s stomach, forcing the breath out of the Commander so quickly that his ribs screamed with the strain of attempting to draw breath once more. He doubled over in agony, gasping for oxygen, only for Tuvok’s right fist to connect under Chakotay’s chin, snapping his gaping mouth shut so fiercely that he bit his tongue and his mouth filled with the bitter, coppery taste of blood.

Chakotay staggered, spitting desperately as he choked on his own blood, but still he didn’t fall, even when Tuvok crashed against him like an enraged bull. Tuvok was too close to him for a punch to have much effect, so Chakotay wrapped his arms around him, dragging him into a crushing embrace, squeezing the air out of the Vulcan’s writhing body.

Still stunned from Chakotay’s blows, Tuvok found himself unable to break free of Chakotay’s bone-crushing grip. So he moved inside it, his teeth tearing into the side of Chakotay’s neck, ripping a mouthful of flesh from Chakotay’s shoulder blade.

Chakotay howled in agony, releasing his arms from Tuvok’s sides and moving his hands to Tuvok’s neck. His fingers locked around the Vulcan’s throat, squeezing until the veins bulged on Tuvok’s forehead, until Tuvok had to release Chakotay’s shoulder or choke.

Tuvok’s eyes rolled wildly as Chakotay’s fingers tightened and his knee pistoned up into the other man’s crotch.

Pain shot through Chakotay’s body like liquid fire. He screamed and staggered, his vision blurring darkly, his fingers losing their grip on Tuvok’s neck.  He was falling, his agonised body collapsing.

Tuvok howled with triumph, as Chakotay swayed drunkenly. He punched deliberately against the wound in Chakotay’s shoulder, his fingers clawing at Chakotay’s uniform and ripping downwards to expose the heaving bronze chest.

Fresh pain knifed into Chakotay as the tearing of his clothes caused the seams of his tunic to snag and bite into the tender flesh of his armpits. His right leg swept out and took Tuvok’s legs out from under him so that the Vulcan struck the floor a moment before Chakotay crashed down on top of him.

He slammed his hands against Tuvok’s shoulders, using his greater body weight to pin him to the floor, trying to ignore the agony that was shooting through his lower body. He pummeled his fists ineffectively into the solid muscle of Tuvok’s stomach.

As lithe and slippery as an eel, Tuvok squirmed beneath him, his own hands pushing back against Chakotay’s chest, his hips bucking mercilessly against Chakotay’s bruised and swollen groin, inch by inch forcing Chakotay to retreat away from the agony until he had enough leverage to roll Chakotay off him.

Chakotay found himself on his back, his hips straddled by iron-hard thighs, his flailing arms caught by the wrists and forced back over his head. His heaving chest pinned by Tuvok’s torso.

For a moment Tuvok relished the victory, his face blazing with triumph as he stared down into Chakotay’s flushed features. Then he dipped his head and ground his ripped mouth against Chakotay’s, his teeth ripping into Chakotay’s lips in a punishing, searing kiss of possession. 

~~~

Tom was gazing into some inner space, completely oblivious to the nervous looks he was receiving from the other members of the crew in the Mess Hall, when Harry arrived.

It wasn’t until Harry scraped his chair out noisily to sit down that Tom’s luminous eyes altered back to a near human state.

“Hi,” he mumbled, shaking his head as though to clear it of cobwebs.

Harry’s own pupils dilated suspiciously and he reached out and casually snagged the memory of Tom’s meeting with Chakotay.

## Do you think he’s going to be a problem?## he ‘said’, as he shoveled a forkful of the unidentifiable pasta-like dish that had become the sole luncheon choice since the replicators had gone off line.  

“Shit, Harry. You know I hate it when you do that. Just talk like a normal person would you?”  Tom complained uneasily.

In a room full of normal crew he already was feeling conspicuous, without Harry pulling the telepathy shit. Ever since his talk with Chakotay he had been feeling less comfortable about his symbiont.

It wasn’t that Chakotay had made him feel bad. If he were truthful with himself, he had felt calmer and happier in the Commander’s presence than he could remember feeling for a long time. There was something ‘different’ about Chakotay. Something that soothed the symbiont inside him as no other person did.

Chakotay exuded an aura of calm that seemed to resonate at the same wavelength as the Savernan. It was as though Chakotay naturally contained the same peaceful nature as the lithium atmosphere caused in the Savernan.

Chakotay was like a pure harmonious note in a cacophony of clashing cymbals and having experienced the soothing qualities of Chakotay’s presence, Tom now found being near the auras of the other non-hosts to be almost painful to his Grrchek.

##  He echoes, though ## Harry pointed out. ## He gets into your head and doesn’t get out again ##

“I told you to TALK,” Tom snapped, although his mind was too busy processing Harry’s observation for him to truly feel angry.

Harry pulled a face but shrugged in agreement as he chewed rapidly to swallow.

“It’s faster to talk in our heads and  better than talking with my mouth full. Besides, you were talking to me like this all morning when I was on the bridge,” he pointed out.

“I know,” Tom admitted. “But that was necessary. This isn’t. It feels weird doing it face to face. Makes me feel like a Borg. I hate that idea.”

“You thought it was cool a couple of hours ago,” Harry reminded him. “What’s happened?”

“Chakotay,” Tom admitted. “It was the way he looked at me, I can’t get the image out of my mind.”

“Funny that,” Harry agreed. “He’s been in and out of my own thoughts all day too. It seems that every time he talks to one of us, I get an echo. Nothing too clear, unless I choose to follow up on it, but its there regardless. Like a shadow. I don’t get that with anyone else. Do you think there’s a problem with the symbionts, Tom? Has something gone wrong?”

Tom’s eyes flickered as he considered Harry’s words. He reached tentatively along the collective link with his mind, darting experimentally into several minds.

Although he could choose to stop and experience the sensations of any of the hosts, none of their thoughts intruded back. There was no sense of violation. He could turn  the knowledge off and on as though he had a faucet to control the flow.

“The link’s fine, Harry,” he assured his friend. “Which is more than you can say for Neelix’s cooking.”

Tom forked another mouthful of pasta off his plate and raised it to his lips. His nose wrinkled as the distinct smell of  chili assaulted his nose. He jerked, his eyes automatically shuttering over with a protective lens as images began to tumble through his mind like failing boulders. An avalanche of pictures. Each too brief for recognition yet too insistent to ignore.

## HOT ##

Tom wasn’t sure whether it was his mental cry or Harry’s since he saw the Ensign pawing frantically at the neck line of his uniform, just as he himself was suddenly aware that his clothes were too tight, too restrictive.

## HOT. HEAT. PAIN. NEED. HEAT. NEED. NEED ##

Harry jerked to his feet, sending dishes scattering towards the floor, the smashing sound of their breaking drowned in his howl of agony, and he clawed at Tom’s face, his own features twisted unrecognizably by rage;

Teeth bared in a feral snarl, Tom growled and struck back, the fingers of his right hand gouging down Harry’s cheekbone, drawling blood.

The Mess Hall was filled with the sounds of people jumping to their feet, calling for Security, shuffling uncertainly between the need to stop the fight and the instinctive fear that froze them as both Tom and Harry’s eyes blazed with the unnatural, alien light of their symbionts.

Tom howled in fury as Harry’s fingers tore the tender skin at corner of his eyes. He dove over the table, smashing the smaller man to the floor, pinning his shoulders down with his hands and then he leant his face down to Harry’s and licked sensuously along Harry’s cheek, lapping at the blood with the delicacy of a cat.

Blue eyes met brown, and then it was Harry tasting the blood, and Tom feeling the rasping wetness of a tongue in the torn, stinging flesh of his cheek.

For a moment they paused, lost, bewildered, and then their eyes flickered simultaneously and cleared.

Tom scrambled to his feet in confused panic.

“Shit, Harry. I’m sorry,” he gasped, his face contorting in terror at his own actions.

He saw Harry raise a tentative hand to his wounded face then pull it back to examine the fresh blood that coated his fingers, saw Harry looking in shock at the stain, with puzzled, hurt eyes. Then Tom staggered backwards as another series of images cascaded through his brain, firing his blood once more.

He closed his eyes in a useless attempt to block the visions, and when he finally re-opened them, Harry was once again snarling at his feet.

## Need. Heat. Need. ## Harry ‘said’, his eyes blazing once more.

“STOP IT,” Tom screamed. He spun on his heel, desperate to escape the heat in Harry’s eyes, the fire in his own soul, yet impossible to do so when he was seeing from Harry’s eyes, seeing *himself* as he staggered in terror.

# Echoes # Harry’s voice rippled through Tom’s mind, carried on a wave of flashing images of entwined flesh, hues of bronze and brown, heat upon heat upon heat.

Fragmented pictures, tumbling through Tom’s head, stealing his breath and his ability to think.

# WHO AM I? # Tom screamed into the splintering chasm of the link and three dozen voices howled in sympathy. Wave upon wave of confusion and fear.

## NEED ##

Tom’s eyes met Harry’s and he nodded. Yes. He needed. Needed something, needed *someone*, and it wasn’t Harry, it was, it was….but his mind refused to fill in the missing piece, and all he could see was bronzed flesh and dark flesh, striking and writhing.

# NEED ## the link confirmed, dozens of voices wailing in empathy.

“I need Kathryn,” Tom snarled, clinging on to the last shreds of his sanity and, before he could change his mind, he ran from the room.

~~~

Chakotay was too stunned to move at first as Tuvok licked delicately around his blood stained mouth. He could feel Tuvok’s erection digging into his stomach, Tuvok’s perspiration dripping down onto Chakotay’s own forehead. Chakotay’s nostrils were filled with the heavy, musky scent of Tuvok’s rut and all he was aware of was the strength of Tuvok’s body and the soft, gentle laving of Tuvok’s tongue as it worked slowly down his jawline and neck.

He bucked frantically, terrified once more, as Tuvok’s mouth reached the gaping wound in Chakotay’s shoulder. Yet Tuvok simply lapped at the wound, his saliva cool and soothing on the torn flesh.

Tuvok licked and sucked down to Chakotay’s chest where he paused to tease at the exposed nipples. As the hot mouth closed over one and sucked it to a hard, excited nub, Chakotay groaned and arched his back, surrendering himself to the sensation. His cock engorged, and the sensation was both pleasure and pain as his bruised sensitive flesh was squashed between its own excitement and the restriction of his uniform pants.

He groaned as Tuvok’s mouth reawakened the passion that he had buried away for so long. Too long. He wanted this, he realised. He wanted the feel of Tuvok’s strong body, Tuvok’s mouth, Tuvok’s cock. He wriggled his hips and bucked slightly to drive the point home that he was past the point of wanting to fight any more.

The pain in his shoulder faded into insignificance next to the agony of the emptiness inside him and in acknowledging his own need, he opened himself to Tuvok’s.

“Fuck me,” he whispered.

The words rippled through Tuvok’s head, cascading down the link, reverberating as they echoed back in increasing screams of need. Tuvok screamed in agony as his head filled with dozens of voices, each flailing him with raw, burning emotion.

Tuvok’s howl shattered Chakotay’s calm. All thoughts of surrender fled him as the Vulcan began to writhe and scream above him in obvious madness. Chakotay bucked and twisted in panic, his struggles inflaming Tuvok’s lust back into pure insanity. Tuvok’s teeth snapped shut on Chakotay’s nipple, half tearing it from Chakotay’s chest. 

A fiery spear of pure agony tore through Chakotay’s body. With strength born of sheer desperation, he twisted his wrists to break Tuvok’s grip. His right arm broke free and swung against the side of Tuvok’s head, connecting hard enough to shatter Tuvok’s left ear-drum.  The Vulcan screamed and writhed, his right hand tightening against Chakotay’s other wrist so tightly that he snapped the bone in half.

Maddened by the pain, Chakotay rained a series of blows against Tuvok’s bleeding ear until the Vulcan scrambled backwards out of reach. Chakotay tried to drag himself to his feet, but in his panic he let his broken wrist touch the floor and a wave of nauseous pain swept through him. He swayed on his knees, barely conscious of Tuvok’s own disorientated swaying as the damage to the Vulcan’s middle-ear caused him to weave with dizziness.

Slumped on the floor, both punch-drunk and agonised,  they eyed each other warily, each looking for a weakness in the other. Tuvok planning his attack, Chakotay’s only thought escape.

“Need,” Tuvok growled eventually, and started to crawl forwards, his head hanging drunkenly yet his eyes fever bright.

"Fuck off,” Chakotay hissed back, having long since abandoned any desire to save the Vulcan. He had been prepared for rough sex, not for being eaten alive.

“Fuck YOU,” Tuvok replied with a wide, very un-vulcanlike smirk, fumbling and then tearing at his own uniform until he revealed his obvious intention to do just that.

/Adrenalin/ Chakotay told himself desperately as his own cock hardened at the sight. It had to be. Tuvok had just broken his wrist, bitten a hole in his shoulder large enough to fly a shuttle through. His right nipple was half torn off his chest. There was no way he was actually feeling horny.

He inched backwards slowly, his eyes riveted on Tuvok’s cock.

“How the hell do you fit that in a Starfleet Uniform?” he quipped, trying to gauge how much distance he needed before he dared try to scramble to his feet again.

“Need,” Tuvok growled, his right hand stroking suggestively against his cock as he tried again to move forward, only to tilt and sway dangerously as he lost his balance once more.

“I don’t give a shit what you need,” Chakotay spat back. “Go fuck a hologram, you mad bastard.”

“But, I need YOU, Chakotay,” Tuvok wailed.

Chakotay froze.

“You know who I am?” he gasped. He had been prepared to turn his back on Tuvok’s maddened need, convinced that he was no more to the Vulcan than a convenient body. How could he turn his back on a friend though? One who needed him. One who would never have hurt him, bitten him, if he hadn’t been crazy.

Not to mention one who looked like *that*.

“Need YOU,” Tuvok repeated. “Want YOU.”

Chakotay stared into the alien eyes, the long-known yet unfamiliar, tormented features, and then his eyes drifted downwards and his own cock stirred once more.

“Bite me again and I’ll kill you,” he promised, and then he started to crawl forwards once more.

“Chakotay,” Tuvok growled back, his voice vibrating with lust, and he began his own advance.

~~~

“What is it, Tom?” Kathryn asked distractedly, too lost in the random images cascading through her head to truly register his presence.

Tom hovered uncertainly  in the doorway of her cabin, as though uncertain either of his welcome or whether he even wanted to be there at all.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I want, I need….I don’t know…” his voice trailed off, lost in the sensations that were still flickering through his mind. Heat. Need. Flesh. Pain. Blood.  The random images were tumbling through his head. Sights, sounds, smells, like broken jagged pieces of a puzzle that he could only solve if he could calm down long enough to put the pieces in order.

“Are you alright?” Kathryn queried, rising to her feet in concern as she took in his flushed cheeks and trembling body.  She tried to walk towards him but staggered, out of balance, as another series of impressions battered her psyche. ## Need. Heat. Pain. Pleasure ##

“Kathryn?” Tom said.

His voice seemed far away, swallowed by the rushing sound of the blood coursing through her veins. She looked up, her eyes slitted and dangerous. Tom’s form was wavering in front of her eyes. His hair and skin darkening, his form becoming heavier, more substantial, his scent changing to an overwhelming heavy sweet musk.

Confused, she looked down at her own arms, saw the way the skin tone was darkening to deep burnished mahogany, felt the fever surging through her body as she bared her teeth in a feral snarl.

“Chakotay,” she growled, and advanced.

~~~

“I want you, Chakotay.”

Chakotay licked his suddenly dry lips as Tuvok grasped the waistband of Chakotay’s uniform and ripped the fabric apart as though it were tissue paper. He felt his balls tightening and retreating from the proximity of Tuvok’s untrustworthy teeth and his cock deflated in fear.

Before he could change his mind and scramble away in panic once more, Tuvok’s strong hands pinned his hips so that Chakotay could do no more than close his eyes and pray as Tuvok’s hungry mouth descended upon him.

~~~

“I want you, Chakotay,” B’Elanna growled, grabbing hold of Joe’s shoulders and thrusting him back against the bulkhead.

“I’m not Chakotay,” Joe gasped, squirming helplessly as she ground herself against his groin, her fingers clawing into his hips with bruising intensity.

B’Elanna threw back her head and laughed, the whites of her eyes now completely drowned by black fire. She bent her head forward to nip at Carey’s neck, then fastened her teeth into his uniform and ripped downwards. As the fabric tore and he felt the sensation of air on bare skin, swiftly followed by a rough wet tongue, Joe shuddered, his struggles for freedom becoming less frantic. Then as B’Elanna’s teeth teased over his right nipple, nibbling and scraping, Joe’s cock attempted to batter its way out of the shreds of his uniform.

B’Elanna felt the evidence of his interest digging into her stomach and with a feral snarl she toppled Carey to the floor, straddled his hips, dug her fingers into his waistband and ripped his pants apart. She grinned down at his exposed cock, licking her lips, and then with a hungry growl of “Chakotay”, she devoured him.

As his cock slid deeply into her eager throat, as it was bathed and caressed by her hot, frantic tongue, Joe’s eyes rolled backwards in his head and he gave up fighting.

“Yeah, I’m Chakotay,” he agreed happily, and lay back to enjoy the ride.

~~~

“SHIT!” Chakotay howled.

He didn’t know whether to come or to wet himself. He was so deep in Tuvok’s throat that every maddened chuckle of the Vulcan was causing sensations of pure bliss to ripple down the length of his cock, yet Tuvok’s teeth were scraping his root, teasing and threatening him.

He was barely aware of the Vulcan’s fingers probing his ass, stretching and invading him with hungry eagerness. He was too concerned that Tuvok’s mouth was going to snap shut.

As Tuvok’s middle finger found his prostate and scratched viciously, Chakotay almost leapt out of his skin.  The tsunami that ripped through his nerves was so powerful that he screamed aloud, even as Tuvok’s other hand reached up and twisted the torn flap of skin on Chakotay’s chest.

The combined agony and ecstasy caused his balls to explode and his good hand grasped the back of Tuvok’s head as he fucked Tuvok’s mouth, too blinded by pain to refuse the contrasting pleasure that Tuvok’s throat was giving him.

“Fucking bastard,” Chakotay screamed as Tuvok siphoned his cock, hungrily devouring the evidence of Chakotay’s excitement as years of pressure released and gushed down the Vulcan’s welcoming throat.

As Tuvok’s mouth finally released its now softening prize, Chakotay was still too stunned to even register the fact that his cock had survived unscathed.

It was only as he felt his knees lifted and spread apart, as Tuvok prepared for his own release, that any semblance of sanity returned to the dazed Commander, and then the sensation of Tuvok’s cockhead pressing at his ass drove even that momentary coherence from him.

~~~

Neelix scrambled backwards through his galley, waving his spatula helplessly as though it were a sword that could protect him from the maddened cat-eyed man who was stalking him with the lithe grace of a hungry panther.

“Chakotay,” his attacker crooned.

“I’m not Chakotay. I’m Neelix. NEELIX,” the little Talaxian sobbed. “Please don’t hurt me. I’m not Chakotay, and I don’t know why you’re mad with him, but I’m not him. Don’t come any closer or I’ll be forced to hurt you.”

“I want you, Chakotay,” Harry purred.

Neelix did a double-take.

“W-w-w-want?”

“I’m going to lick you all over. I’m going to worship you with my tongue,” Harry promised.

Neelix licked his suddenly dry lips, took a deep breath, opened his mouth to scream for help and then  decided, what the fuck.

~~~

/Lube. I need fucking lube/ Chakotay panicked suddenly, his post-orgasmic state of relaxation suddenly shattered by the realisation that Tuvok was entering him dry.

There was a momentary pain, a second when his now tense sphincter rebelled against its invader, and then a slow, gliding sensation as Tuvok entered him in a slow, easy thrust.

No pain.

Just the feeling of greased steel stretching him wider than he had ever been designed to be stretched, filling him so deeply that he must surely be torn apart, and yet no pain, no tearing, just the glorious feeling of being filled to capacity.

/I never knew that about Vulcans/ was his last coherent thought, and then Tuvok started to move inside him.

~~~

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Dalby groaned, then mentally kicked himself for saying it when Seven’s swollen lips moved back away from his lap.

“Don’t you want me Chakotay?” She asked.

/I’m not Chakotay. She’ll kill me tomorrow. *He’ll* kill me tomorrow maybe. This is so seriously a bad idea/ Dalby told himself, as he stared into the solid, almost electric blue of Seven’s eyes. She blinked under his glare and her pupils flickered, elongating into slits, then dilating to full black moons.

She licked her full lips suggestively once more.

“Sure babe, I want you,” Dalby admitted, deciding he may as well die with a smile on his face.

~~~

Tom ran his hands over Kathryn’s shuddering flanks and dipped his head to tease the cleft of her ass with his tongue. She howled at the sensation and arched her back, hissing with satisfaction as he settled between her spread knees and began to knead her ass cheeks with hard, bruising fingers.

The flesh was pale and soft under Tom’s hands, yet all he saw and felt was bronze skin and hard, masculine muscle, and as he breached the unprepared ass with one hard, merciless thrust, the word that was wrenched from Kathryn’s throat  in a scream of mingled pain and desire was overlaid by thirty-seven echoing voices, including his own,  all roaring one name.

“CHAKOTAY”

Go To Part Six