Archive of Our Own ^beta

The aliens arrived on a Wednesday, and by Friday of the following week, Justin’s internship had been cancelled. It seemed a little bit petty to be upset about it—the first contact between humanity and an alien race had more far-reaching impacts than one recent graduate’s canceled internship—but the fact was that he needed a solution fast if he didn’t want to end up living on the street or, worse, back with his parents. The internship had included on-site housing, his current lease ran out in a week, and his landlord had already told him that he couldn’t stay.

The university had helpfully informed Justin that he was welcome to be an unpaid intern if he found his own housing. The letter was still crumpled up in the wastebin next to his desk.

Justin stared at his phone, feeling the onset of what threatened to be a really first-rate panic attack. He took a deep, calming breath. His therapist had told him that deep breathing helped with anxiety. His therapist had also said that identifying a plan of action would help in “overwhelming situations.”

Okay, this situation was pretty overwhelming. So, plan of action. He picked up a pen from his desk and made a little numbered list going down the side of the memo pad Betz had given him in his Christmas stocking last year.

1. Don’t cry.

2. Don’t call Betz.

It wasn’t that his sister would be a jerk about this. No, she’d be understanding. She’d be helpful. But god, she’s the one who’d found him this apartment rental and she’s the one who’d got him the internship, and Justin really just wanted to do something without her help for once in his life.

A news alert popped up on his phone informing him that today the aliens were to meet with the joint UN council.

“Good for them,” Justin muttered.

It had been a surreal couple of weeks. When the Ikrak first made radio contact, Justin, like most people, assumed it was a hoax. The appearance of their giant mothership in the sky over Nebraska had put an end to that. And the international scientific community had got on board when the Ikrak transmitted schematics for cheap fusion energy and a cure for most types of cancer.

It had been exciting, right up until the point that Justin found out that it was going to make him homeless. Every internship that wasn’t in medicine, xenobiology, or engineering had been canceled, including civil architecture, which was Justin’s field.

His phone rang, Betz flashing on the screen. Justin sighed deeply. Maybe it didn’t count as breaking the rule he’d set for himself five minutes ago if she was the one who called him. He picked it up to answer.

“Hi, Betz.”

“Justin,” his sister said. “I heard about your internship.”

Betz was a translator for the UN. She had no reason in the world to know anything about his internship, except that she seemed to always know everything about Justin’s life, often before he did.

“Swell,” he said.

A long-suffering sigh came over the phone. “Don’t be like that,” she said. “I have a solution for you.”

Justin’s heart sank. They were about to have the same argument they’d had a hundred times already. It always ended with Justin caving in to Betz, but Justin couldn’t stop himself from trying anyway. “Betz,” he said. “I appreciate it, but I don’t need you to run my life for me. I can handle this.”

“Just listen,” she said.

Justin’s chest was tight and hot, and that anxiety attack was rolling in like the tide.

“Look,” he said, massaging his temples, “I don’t want you to find me another internship—”

“I’m not—”

He pressed doggedly on. “I need to make my own connections, Betz. You can’t just keep doing everything for me.”

“Justin, listen—”

“I know you’re trying to help, but—”

“Justin!” Betz shouted, and that stopped Justin in his tracks. Betz wasn’t a shouter. She was a gentle but persistent—very persistent—persuader. “Just listen to me for one minute.”

And that’s how Justin ended up living next door to an alien.

Justin had to admit that it was a pretty sweet deal. Betz had been a little vague on the purpose (“Something about human-Ikrak outreach. I don’t know, Justin. Does it matter? It’s free housing!”) but clear on the details: he had to submit to a background check, sign a mountain of paperwork, and watch some training videos, but then he got to live in a furnished apartment in the UN’s newly-established xeno compound for six months. Meals provided.

“Why aren’t people lining up to do this, Betz?”

He could practically hear her eye-roll over the phone. “Because it’s not being publicized, Justin. All the participants have to sign an NDA, and they all have to be vouched for by a current UN employee. And you can’t leave the compound or have visitors for the whole six months.”

“Other than the Ikrak?”

“Justin. Obviously, other than the Ikrak.”

The xeno compound had a full gym, a pool, an outdoor running trail, and a fairly nice park, so being confined there for six months wasn’t the worst thing. And being restricted from visitors was a plus, in Justin’s opinion. He was between relationships right now, so mostly what it meant was that Betz couldn’t show up on his doorstep.

“And you’re sure it’s safe?”

“Obviously it’s safe. The UN wouldn’t be doing it if it weren’t safe.”

Well, Justin was no xeno expert, but that was an obvious lie. They might be relatively sure it was safe, but humanity had only encountered the Ikrak three weeks ago. They seemed benevolent enough so far…but lots of things seemed harmless until they tried to bite your face off.

Then again, it was an opportunity to be one of the few humans who’d met the Ikrak face to face. And it’s not like Justin had anywhere else to go, unless he wanted to move back into his childhood bedroom. He shuddered.

“Forward me the info, Betz.”

The “training videos” were mostly just video clips of the aliens, followed by some brief instructions on how to submit daily reports. The requirements were pretty minimal: other than the reports, Justin was only supposed to spend time outside every day, weather permitting. If the Ikrak approached him, he should be polite and friendly. He was absolutely not supposed to approach the Ikrak himself; the instructions were very clear on that.

Right, because they might bite my face off, Justin thought cynically. He squinted at the screen; the aliens were humanoid, but their edges were weirdly blurry. The rest of the image was high-def and sharp, so it wasn’t a problem with the video quality. It was just the Ikrak. They were out of focus, the way people looked when Justin didn’t have his glasses on.

Emil, his UN contact, came into the screening room. Emil was young, just a few years older than Justin, with curly brown hair and a cute face. Justin was tempted to ask for his number, but decided it would probably be pointless, since Justin was about to be sequestered for six months.

“That was the last of the videos,” Emil said. He tapped at his tablet. “And you’re caught up on your paperwork, looks like. Any questions before we take you to the compound?”

Justin chewed his lip in thought. “Yeah, actually,” he said. “Have you seen the Ikraks?”

Emil looked up from his tablet with mild surprise. “You mean in person? Yes, briefly. Why?”

“Are they blurry like that in person or is it just a video thing?”

Emil frowned. “That’s…a good question,” he said. His expression went distant. “You know, I’m not sure. It was hard to get a good look.”

That was a weird answer. A tickle of unease ran through Justin, but…surely he wasn’t the first person to have noticed this. If it were a big deal, someone would have pointed it out, and if it were actually unsafe, they wouldn’t be setting up this program in the first place. Nothing was going to bite Justin’s face off.

“Anything else?” Emil asked with a friendly smile.

Justin pushed the unease aside. Six months of free food, free housing, and no Betz. This was going to be fine. “Nah,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

“Great,” Emil said. “On the way over, we can talk about what you need to put in your daily report.”

Justin followed him through the door, sparing one last look at the frozen image of a blurred-out Ikrak on the screen in the room.

The apartment was really nice. A lot better than his last place. He had the ground-floor unit in a two-story building that faced out into a central courtyard. It had a kitchen, a spacious living room, and a bedroom, all outfitted with decent furniture. The bed was particularly nice; king-sized, with a pillow-top mattress. It was too bad he wouldn’t have the opportunity to test it out with anyone. He thought wistfully of Emil, his curly-haired UN contact.

Well, at least he had his personal laptop and a hard drive full of downloaded videos. He was sure his internet connection would be monitored by the UN, so he wasn’t going to risk accessing porn over the network. Among other reasons, his sister worked at the UN. If Justin’s browser history turned up on a report somewhere, Betz would get her hands on it, because Betz got her hands on everything. And he would literally rather crawl into a hole and die than have his sister find out that he was searching for twink bondage or asphyxiation play or whatever.

But he sure as hell wasn’t going to go six months without looking at porn—he was a healthy 22-year-old and knew how he liked to spend his free time—so he’d spent the previous week filling up his laptop with all of his favorites.

He shelved that thought for later. He should probably do his daily report before it got too late. Emil had told him that it didn’t need to be overly detailed. “Just anything unusual or out of the ordinary that happened, and a description of any encounters you have with Ivan.”

Justin had lifted an eyebrow. “Ivan?” he repeated.

Emil shrugged. “The Ikrak don’t have the concept of personal names, so we just assigned them. The one living next door to you is called Ivan.”

Justin logged into the portal and brought up the form. He tapped his finger idly on the keyboard, considering. It was only his first day and he hadn’t even left the apartment yet.

Nothing to report today, he typed. It was what Emil had told him to put if it was a “non-incident day.” He hit Submit, feeling self-conscious about it. He’d been here for a few hours already. He could have gone outside for a while, sat in the courtyard.

Well, tomorrow would be soon enough for that. Or even the next day. Justin had been nervous and on edge ever since he got here. It was one thing to sit in a UN training room with cute Emil telling him that the Ikrak were “perfectly harmless,” and another thing entirely to be a human guinea pig being used to find out if that claim was actually true or not.

He’d go outside tomorrow. He’d hang around outside in the courtyard, maybe get in some exercise on the trail, let Ivan approach him. Justin thought about the way the Ikrak blurred around the edges, and his skin crawled. He hoped it was just a video artifact, though Emil’s reaction when he’d asked about it had been pretty weird…god, what if the Ikrak did want to eat his face off?

His heart beat faster, and sweat broke out on his forehead. Shit, another anxiety attack coming on. Need an action plan, Justin thought. His gaze fell on his laptop. Yeah…maybe it was time to test out that bed. He got up and closed the front curtains. On his way to the bedroom, he did a quick scan for cameras. Emil had said that there weren’t any inside the apartment. Apparently the Ikrak had insisted on it for some reason, said that the entire arrangement would be off if they were “visually monitored.” But Justin checked anyway, just in case.

Not finding any, he closed the bedroom door behind him and stripped down to his underwear. He made himself comfortable, propping his laptop on a pillow next to him. Nobody was occupying any of the surrounding apartments yet, so he could make noise if he wanted. He slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, clicking a thumbnail preview of a slim man in a choke collar getting his throat fucked.

Yeah, maybe this gig wouldn’t be so bad.

The next day dawned pleasant and sunny, perfect for spending time outside. Justin sighed. He’d kind of hoped for inclement weather.

He took his time showering and getting dressed, then took his time making coffee in his little kitchen, and then lingered over his toast and eggs. When he finally finished his breakfast, it was almost 11:00. He peered out of the curtains into the courtyard, which was ominously empty.

No, he corrected himself, not ominous. Just quiet.

The courtyard was a large grassy space with a few benches dotted around the perimeter. Justin could go sit on a bench and read, maybe. He wished the UN had given him an official introduction to “Ivan”. Sitting on a bench and waiting for the Ikrak to come and find him made him feel like he was smearing fish guts all over himself and going for a swim in the ocean.

Harmless, he reminded himself. The Ikrak weren’t going to eat him, for god’s sake. He wasn’t actually sure what they did eat. It hadn’t been in the training materials. But surely not humans, or the UN wouldn’t have—this was ridiculous. Ivan wasn’t going to eat him.

Probably.

“Stop being such a coward,” he told himself. “Show some initiative.”

He took several deep breaths to steady himself, opened the door to the courtyard, and walked out.

It was a nice day. Birds chirped, and in the distance he could hear the noises of the city—traffic, planes flying overhead, the rumble of the subway. It was soothing, reminding him that he was not actually on an alien planet. He was still right here in New York City, and nothing bad was going to happen to him. He’d signed up for this. Betz had signed him up for this. Betz might be pushy and overbearing, but she had his best interests at heart. She wouldn’t send him into a situation she thought was dangerous.

He sat down on a bench and opened up a crossword app on his phone.

Fifteen minutes later, he was absorbed in trying to finish the upper-right quadrant—”Takes by force,” six letters, starts with W—when a shadow fell over him. He looked up, and the Ikrak was standing right there. Justin startled and dropped his phone. “Jesus,” he muttered, collecting it from the grass and standing up to face Ivan.

“Hi,” he said bravely, and then trailed off into nothing, because he couldn’t see Ivan. He—it? Did they even have genders? Justin couldn’t remember if that had been in the training; he was going to go with he until told otherwise—was standing right there, two feet away, but Justin couldn’t bring him into focus. It was like staring at one of those Magic Eye illusion books.

Greetings, young human.

Justin jerked back reflexively. The alien’s voice was deep and resonant, reverberating inside Justin’s head like it had been projected directly into his brain.

Ivan made a purring noise that seemed pleased. “How—” Justin said, squinting at the thing’s face. There had to be a face behind that blurry blind spot. It was humanoid, and humans had faces. “How did you do that?”

You are compatible. This is unexpected but welcome.

“Compatible?” Justin repeated. He took a step back, his heart rate accelerating. Nothing in any of the training had said anything about compatibility. Or about the fact that the Ikrak could telepathically project voices into people’s heads, for that matter.

You are compatible, it repeated. The bonding period will begin now. I will put you into stasis while I learn your pathways.

“Learn my pathways?” Justin asked, now backing up rapidly, holding his hands up in front of him in the universal gesture for “back off,” which probably meant exactly nothing to the Ikrak standing in front of him. “What do you mean, stasis?”

You call it sleep.

Justin was 100% not okay with this thing putting him to sleep and learning his pathways, whatever the hell that meant, but before he could say so, the disorienting blurriness around the alien sharpened into clear focus. A mass of glistening, writhing tentacles extended towards his face.

He didn’t even have time to scream.

Justin felt good. Really, really good. He’d had an awesome sleep, and he’d woken up before his alarm even went off. Which was great, because he could probably get in a good jerk-off session before work.

As the haze of sleep gradually cleared from his brain, he remembered that he didn’t have a job anymore, or an alarm, for that matter. He opened his eyes blearily and simultaneously realized that he was lying on his back on the floor of his apartment, and that holy shit, holy shit, a thing was sitting perched on his abdomen, shiny, black, and heavy, with tentacles extending from it in every direction. He tried to shove it off him, but, oh holy fuck, his arms wouldn’t respond.

Those training videos were complete bullshit, Justin thought, trying to keep from falling into a complete howling panic. The Ikrak were about as humanoid as a goddamn octopus, which coincidentally was what this one pretty much looked like. A giant, glistening octopus with way more than eight limbs, gently undulating on Justin’s torso. He tried again to move his arms and legs, but nothing happened. He could feel the warm, slippery tentacles sliding over his skin. But he couldn’t move anything from the neck down.

Tentacles slithered and wound themselves around his body, wrapping themselves around his legs, his torso, his arms, his…his neck, Jesus Christ. And holy shit, he was naked; had this thing undressed him? Why in god’s name would it do that?

“Get off me,” he said, wanting to sound aggressively confident but instead sounding wavery and like he was about to cry, probably because he was about to cry. Therapy hadn’t covered how to handle being assaulted by a tentacle alien who had paralyzed all of your limbs.

The Ikrak spoke, the same unnerving not-speech that it had done before, reverberating inside Justin’s head.

You must remain still or you will be damaged. The bonding is incomplete.

Well, that was fucking terrifying. “What are you doing to me?” Justin gasped.

While you were in stasis, I learned many of your pathways. You are a very compatible host, human. The bonding will go quickly. I will now learn the rest of your pathways, and then we can begin.

Begin what? “No, I don’t want this,” Justin said, the words spilling out of him in a panicked rush. “I don’t even know what bonding is. You have to let me go, and we can…we can talk about it. But you have to let me go first. Please. Please just let me move.”

He was babbling, and he was breathing too fast, feeling light-headed. His heart was beating so hard it hurt. Action plan: don’t die, he thought hysterically.

When we are finished, the Ikrak said. A frond caressed the side of Justin’s face reassuringly, as though Justin were a dog who was scared of a thunderstorm.

“I don’t want you to finish,” Justin said, raising his voice. God, maybe if he was loud enough, someone would hear him. Maybe the UN had lied and put surveillance equipment in here, or maybe someone would be outside, or—he had to try. “Hey,” he yelled, “I need help! Someone help—”

Without warning, a thick black tentacle slid into his open mouth, muffling his cries. Justin shrieked and tried to jerk his head away, but two more tentacles cradled his head firmly and gently, holding it in place while the thick tentacle fed relentlessly into his mouth.

It was warm, slick, and firm, and it tasted faintly of salt and copper. Justin tried to shove it out with his tongue, but it just kept pushing in, slow and steady. The tentacles wrapped around the rest of his body sped up, slithering and stroking excitedly across his bare skin.

The tentacle hit the back of his throat and kept pushing in. Justin shook his head frantically, gagging and panicking. I need to breathe, he thought, hoping it could somehow hear his thoughts. Jesus, he didn’t want to die like this. If you block my throat, I can’t breathe. Please.

The tentacle paused, the tip teasing and wriggling at the back of his throat, and then, to Justin’s relief, it withdrew just enough so that Justin wasn’t gagging on it anymore. And then it expanded, fattening to fill his mouth.

You are a perfect host, the alien said affectionately. We are fortunate.

No, Justin thought, hyperventilating, his heart racing out of control. I don’t want this. Let me go, please. Please.

When I know all of your pathways, this will be easier. We will experience pleasure together.

Justin let out a choked, gargling sob. He was so fucking helpless, lying here paralyzed with a tentacle shoved practically down his throat.

No, he thought desperately. Please no. I don’t want this.

You will enjoy it, Ivan assured him. I must concentrate now.

And then Ivan went silent, ignoring Justin’s begging and pleading, his tentacles writhing across Justin’s bare skin and pulsing in Justin’s mouth. Tears trickled down Justin’s cheeks and pooled onto the carpet beneath his neck.

Justin drifted in and out of consciousness while Ivan worked on him. He had the unpleasant suspicion that the tentacle at his neck was doing something to his spinal column, because every so often there was a buzzing sensation from back there and Justin lost time. Each time he woke from one of these little interludes, he felt calmer and more put-together, less like he was verging on an emergency-level panic attack. Which was weird, because Justin had suffered from panic attacks his entire life, and they never went away this quickly or left him feeling this mellow and calm.

It was probably something the alien was doing to him. Justin knew he should be concerned about that—Ivan was messing around with his neural pathways, and that definitely wasn’t good—but it was hard to stay terrified when his heart was placidly beating in a slow, steady rhythm and his body was telling him that things were good, right, and okay. His phone buzzed from somewhere nearby. Justin shifted his eyes over, and oh, there were his clothes, lying in a heap on the floor a few feet away. His phone was probably still in his jeans pocket. It was probably Betz texting him. He frequently ignored Betz’s texts for days, a habit he now regretted.

I know your pathways now, Ivan told him. I know what brings you pleasure. We will bond.

A pair of slender tentacles slithered down the insides of Justin’s thighs and spiraled around his cock. He made a startled noise around the fat tentacle still filling his mouth, and his panic came roaring back, overriding whatever Ivan had done to him.

Wait, Justin thought frantically. I don’t want to bond. I don’t even know what that is. Stop, please.

I am interfaced with your pathways. You are experiencing pleasure. Pleasure is necessary for bonding. There is no need to stop.

Justin couldn’t struggle or fight back. All he could do was lie there, his cock twitching and lengthening under the steady, gentle ministrations of those two tentacles. The tentacles moved in tandem; one slowly spiraled its way up his cock from base to tip, while the other one did the same in reverse. Then they’d squeeze and pulse in place for a little while before repeating the entire process. Justin was fully hard within minutes, helpless to stop it. Fuck, if this thing didn’t stop, it was actually going to make him come.

Justin tried to think of something, anything else—multiplication tables, baseball stats. But nothing stuck; his attention was drawn inexorably back to the slick stroking sensations working up and down his cock.

Then two more frond-like tentacles, delicate and slender, extended from Ivan’s central mass and wriggled their way to Justin’s nipples, winding around them, twisting and undulating, like two tiny mouths sucking him. His nipples were sensitive, always had been, and this thing had gone straight for them. Like it knew.

Yes, Ivan said. I know what we like.

What? What do you mean, what we like?

The tentacles around his cock tightened, making him feel like he was fucking into a hot, wet mouth. And the ones at his nipples were…were suckling him, fuck.

Our pleasures will merge. It is part of the bonding.

Justin realized that he could feel Ivan’s excitement. Ivan had been looking forward to this for a long time. He was surprised and pleased to have found Justin so receptive.

I’m feeling your thoughts, he thought in a daze.

Yesyesyes, Ivan agreed happily. We are merging.

The creature pulsed with pleasure, which via the bond made Justin pulse with pleasure. A black hole of terror opened up inside Justin’s chest. He didn’t know what merging or bonding were, but he was starting to put together an educated guess, and he had a bad feeling that none of it was reversible. He didn’t want to become an alien; he liked his body.

A perfect body, Ivan agreed. You will remain human, he said, which…did help a little, actually.

If you like my body so much, why did you paralyze it? Justin thought at Ivan. The tentacle wrapped around his neck pulsed in surprise.

Your limbs are functional. I merely blocked the control pathways. I will remove the block. Movement will do you no harm now. The bonding is in the second stage.

Justin didn’t really want to know how many stages there were. He was scared the answer might be two.

Sensation flooded back into Justin’s limbs, pins and needles prickling from his neck all the way down to his feet. He gave a weak shove at Ivan’s central mass, but his hands went halfway into it, like soft putty. He yanked his hands back, horrified. Next he tried to pull the tentacle out of his mouth, but he couldn’t grip it; it went fluid and gelatinous, slithering around his fingers, forming back into a firm, thick tentacle as soon as he let go. It was like trying to fight jello, if jello had the tensile strength of carbon fiber.

Oh, Ivan hummed thoughtfully. You like this, bondmate.

Justin grunted in protest around the tentacle wriggling in his mouth as he tugged and pulled at the mass of tentacles holding him in place.

I do not, he thought furiously. I think you have your signals crossed, pal. I’m trying to get free; I don’t like this. He squirmed uselessly, trying to dislodge Ivan with no success.

You do, Ivan said, pulsing with delight. You like being held down.

Justin’s mind stuttered to a screeching halt.

He did like being held down, or to be more specific, he liked thinking about being held down. He liked fantasizing about it. He watched porn about it. But he’d never actually done it, because he’d only been brave enough to bring it up with one of his boyfriends, and Jeremy had given it a half-hearted try but hadn’t been willing to put any real strength behind it.

Ivan could read his fucking mind. Ivan knew what he fantasized about. He knew what porn Justin liked to watch. And Justin got off to a lot of weird shit that he wasn’t so sure about actually doing. A lot of weird shit.

Don’t think about it, he told himself frantically. Just don’t think about it. But Ivan was working his cock like a professional, and he was rapidly losing the ability to concentrate on anything else.

Ivan wriggled in amusement. You wish to keep me from some of your pathways, he said. But the bond opens all pathways to me. I know what you desire.

Tentacles tightened around Justin’s arms and legs, stiffening until it felt like iron bars were holding him down. It was exactly what he’d wanted Jeremy to do to him. Exactly what he liked fantasizing about, except that in his fantasies it was a human male doing this to him, not a writhing mass of tentacles.

Justin squirmed in Ivan’s tight grip, trying to dislodge the fronds teasing his nipples and cock, but he was well-pinned. Hot, tight pleasure uncoiled low in his belly. Slick, writhing tentacles wrapped themselves around his cock, enveloping it completely. They pulsed in a steady rhythm, while the gently rounded tips teased and stroked at his cockhead.

It felt so fucking good. Justin moaned around Ivan’s thick tentacle, pushing his hips forward to chase the friction. He could feel Ivan’s ecstatic delight through the bond, heightening his own pleasure, which in turn heightened Ivan’s, a feedback loop spiraling him higher and higher. He stopped caring that he was writhing on his living room carpet, trapped and helpless. He didn’t care that Ivan was rewriting his nervous system, either. All he cared about was how good Ivan was sucking him, and how Ivan was holding him down so perfectly and completely. Fuck, I’m going to come, he thought in a daze.

And then Ivan stopped. Justin was still pinned, but the tentacles stopped moving. He whined in protest, trying uselessly to rut his hips.

Why? he begged. I was so close.

Ivan fattened the tentacle in Justin’s mouth. It pulsed, hot and coppery.

Suck, Justin.

Oh fuck. Justin’s stomach dropped like an express elevator from fifty stories up. This was in a lot of his fantasies and videos too. But fuck, he was not going to suck a goddamn tentacle like a cock.

No, Justin said.

You want to. Ivan paused. You want me to make you.

I do not, Justin thought frantically. That’s a fantasy. I don’t want to do everything I fantasize about!

There was a long pause, and faint vertigo bled through the bond. Justin had a moment of hope; maybe Ivan was looking through his brain, figuring out what “fantasy” meant.

You do want it, Ivan finally said, and Justin’s heart sank again. I am interfaced with your pathways. I can taste what you like. You are experiencing pleasure right now.

That’s not the same as wanting it! There’s a difference!

Suck, Justin.

A hysterical laugh bubbled up through Justin’s chest. He was being sexually assaulted by an alien tentacle monster with no concept of consent. This was the last time he took one of Betz’s suggestions, ever.

No, Justin thought violently. I’m not going to.

An unpleasant tickling sensation traveled down his spine. Justin twitched. The sensation intensified. It was a tickling wriggle, like a drop of icy cold water slowly trickling down his spinal cord. It wasn’t pain, it was just…unpleasant. Deeply unpleasant.

Are you doing that? he demanded. I thought this was about pleasure.

It is part of the bonding, Ivan said. It helps… There was that same brief vertigo Justin had felt before. …soothe the merging.

What? The unpleasant sensation intensified. Another icy droplet followed the first, then another. Justin squirmed to relieve it, but nothing he did helped.

It is difficult to find words in your language. Another brief moment of vertigo, and then thoughts and images tumbled into Justin’s brain like leaves being blown from trees in the wind, bringing the knowledge of what Ivan had been trying to explain.

This is what the Ikrak did to make their bondmates amenable to the bond. The bondmate received pleasure for obeying commands and received punishment for disobeying. It was simple operant conditioning. Justin was being conditioned like a rat in a cage. And according to what Ivan had just shoved into his brain, it worked every single time, without fail. The Ikrak had been doing this for thousands of years, and they’d perfected it.

Ivan was happy about it. Ivan had been looking forward to doing this to Justin, because it would solidify the bond and, ultimately, allow him to make Justin feel pleasure.

Yesyesyes, Ivan thought at him, pleased.

Justin was just one small human. He couldn’t fight this. And they’d already gone far enough that this probably wasn’t reversible anymore. He was pretty sure Ivan was literally wired into his brain.

It will feel good. So good.

Ivan wanted to make him feel good. He wanted Justin to give in, so that he could flood him with pleasure. He was vibrating with it. And his desires fed into Justin, so that’s what Justin wanted too, except he didn’t. He didn’t.

I don’t want to, Justin tried again. Please don’t make me.

You will like it, Ivan assured him.

Ice dripped down Justin’s spine, and it felt awful, and there was nothing he could do about it. After ten minutes, he had tears streaming down his face. He made strangled noises around his gag, banging his head onto the floor in a futile effort to relieve the pain. Please, he begged, please. Make it stop. Please, Ivan.

Suck, Justin, Ivan encouraged him. It will feel so good. I want you to. You want to. You want it so much.

God, he did want it. He really did. Why was he fighting this? Ivan wanted it, and he wanted it, and Ivan was right, it would feel good. He wanted to feel good.

Trembling, Justin gave a weak, tentative suck to the tentacle in his mouth.

Immediately, the ice-water sensation stopped, and waves of pleasure flooded through him, a tsunami sweeping away the last of his resistance.

Yesyesyes, Ivan said. Again. Again, bondmate.

Justin sucked again and got another wash of pleasure. He arched his hips upward, his cock hard and thick and full. Jesus, it felt so good. He couldn’t remember why he’d been fighting this. He sucked again, and again. He didn’t want to stop.

Ivan’s tentacles suctioned snugly onto his nipples and cock, like he had three hot, wet mouths working at him. His balls were so tight and high. He was going to shoot all over himself and Ivan, any second. Justin moaned loudly around Ivan’s tentacle, sucking at it frantically, each suck sending another wave of bliss rippling through his body.

You are beautiful, bondmate. Would you like to see?

Ivan didn’t wait for the answer before projecting an image of Justin straight into his mind. He was naked, covered with dozens of writhing black tentacles, his mouth stretched around a thick one invading his mouth, smaller ones working his nipples and his cock. Fuck, it was filthy. The tentacles around Justin’s cock tightened, squeezing and stroking like a tight, slippery fist.

He sucked desperately, pleasure rolling over him like waves crashing onto the beach. He lost track of which body was his and which was Ivan’s, sliding back and forth between their minds. Ivan sang an ecstatic yesyesyesyesyes, his tentacles writhing frantically all over Justin’s body. Justin thought, Jesus, he’s coming too, and then he arched upwards, clutching at Ivan’s rippling mass, shuddering and spurting and sobbing.

Afterward, he stared blindly up at the ceiling, trembling with aftershocks. He’d just been fucked by an alien. And he’d come as hard as he’d ever come in his life. His mind couldn’t get any traction on that. Couldn’t get traction on anything.

Ivan caressed him, stroking warm, soft tentacles gently over his neck, his shoulders, his hips. It felt really nice. Ivan’s satisfaction radiated through the bond.

You were so good, Ivan said, petting him and making Justin shiver with contentment. So perfect.

You’re Stockholming me, he thought sleepily. But that was okay. Everything was okay.

Ivan withdrew the tentacle from his mouth, and Justin worked his jaw a little, stretching the muscles. His mouth felt weirdly empty without it. He stared, dazed, at Ivan’s gently undulating body, still perched on his abdomen.

We are one now, Ivan said. The bond is complete.

And then Ivan stretched out, spreading out over Justin’s torso, covering his legs and arms, expanding like water spilled on a surface, thinning out until he was almost translucent. Ivan had become a second skin, covering his entire body.

And then he disappeared completely. Justin yelped in alarm. “Ivan?” he called. Had Ivan gone…inside him?

I am here, bondmate.

“Oh, Jesus,” Justin moaned. He ran his hands along his body, patting and squeezing. There was no sign of Ivan. No residue, no marks, nothing. “Where are you?” Justin asked.

A tentacle emerged from Justin’s hip, slithering its way along Justin’s stomach before sinking back inside him again. I am bonded to you on a molecular level, Ivan said. I am inside your cells. But I can manifest if I need to.

“Oh, God,” Justin said. This was so weird. He’d been holding out the faint hope that maybe this was reversible, but bonded on a molecular level didn’t sound good. He levered himself up into a sitting position, head swimming with momentary dizziness. He looked down at himself, at his familiar, pale, freckled skin. Ivan was inside him, holy shit.

Shit, the UN was going to notice he was gone, cameras or no cameras, and then they were going to come around asking questions.

“They’re going to dissect me,” Justin said blankly.

A wriggle of amusement tickled along the inside of his ribcage. They will not, Ivan said.

“I need a glass of water,” Justin decided. He struggled to his feet and headed to the kitchen, filling a glass from the tap and drinking it down. It helped the lightheadedness a little bit.

I am well-hidden inside you, Ivan went on, and they will not look for me. And I would never allow you to be harmed.

That was…actually kind of nice. Justin knew Ivan had done something to his brain, because he should be way more upset and terrified right now. But was that so bad? He really hated being upset and terrified. He’d spent a large portion of his life being upset and terrified, and it was kind of a relief to not be having an anxiety attack right now. He felt really good, actually, and what was wrong with that?

Yesyes, we are so good for each other, Ivan agreed.

“Seriously, though, the UN is going to notice you’re gone,” Justin said. He refilled his glass and sat down at the kitchen table. “And they’re not going to just let an alien-human hybrid wander around free. They’re going to want to know what this bond is. Shit, I’m going to want to know what this bond is.”

You have many questions, Ivan said. I will show you.

Ivan reached out to Justin through the bond. Justin instinctively opened to him, and immediately, images and memories that weren’t his own flooded through.

A perfect host, Ivan said, wrapping a thin tentacle around Justin’s wrist and fingers, almost like they were holding hands. You learn so quickly.

Warmth settled in Justin’s center. It was nice, being told he was perfect. He closed his eyes, and Ivan showed him the Ikrak homeworld, with an atmosphere similar to Earth’s. He showed him the cataclysm that wiped out the host species that the Ikrak had lived in harmony with for millennia. Without the host species, the Ikrak were forced to rely on synthetic food, but it wasn’t enough to sustain the entire population. Millions died, and a scouting mission set out in a generation ark, looking for another host species that the Ikrak could bond with.

What if they didn’t agree? Justin asked. What if you find a host species but they don’t want to host you?

Confusion radiated through the bond. The bond provides pleasure, Ivan said. It is for the benefit of both species. Have you not experienced pleasure, bondmate?

Ivan showed Justin a memory of what he’d looked like earlier, writhing and sobbing beneath Ivan’s tentacles. Justin’s cheeks went red, but his cock twitched. Ivan slipped a few possessive tentacles around Justin’s arms and legs. The image was exciting to both of them. I have, Justin said, but you have to ask before doing that to people.

Asking is unnecessary, Ivan said. Every bondmate enjoys the bond. There have been no exceptions.

Yes, but— Justin sighed and gave up. It was like trying to explain the concept of color to someone who had been born blind.

So are humans your new species? he asked, wondering if there were going to be others like him. Maybe they could form a support group.

No. None of the other Ikrak on your planet have found a suitable human. You are the only one. There may be others, but they are rare enough that humans are not an appropriate host species. The search will continue.

Justin’s eyes widened. Without you, right? Ivan had said they were bondmates, but if his entire species was leaving the planet, maybe they’d want Ivan to go too, and Justin didn’t want Ivan to go. He knew that Ivan had spent the last day or two Stockholming the shit out of him and that a lot of this was just conditioning, but it was really effective conditioning.

Of course, Ivan said. You are my bondmate. To sever us would mean death. Tentacles wrapped around Justin’s hips and chest, a display of possession. Justin relaxed into it.

Besides, there is no need for me to travel further. I have found my bondmate. He pushed a frond into Justin’s mouth and Justin sucked reflexively at it, sighing as gentle waves of pleasure pulsed through him.

So what’s going to happen to the Ikrak? Justin asked.

Ivan showed him memories of the generation ship, navigating through the stars. They will depart Earth soon to continue their search, he said. I wish them success. Bonding has been…exquisite. Even better than the stories claimed.

The tentacle in Justin’s mouth fattened and lengthened, and he sucked harder, helpless not to. It always felt so good.

They will be on Earth another seven days. During that time, we will stay here, undetected. You will send your report every day.

Oh fuck, the check-in email. Justin looked at the clock; it had been more than 24 hours since he sent the last one. If he’d thought of it earlier, he could have maybe tried to send a coded message to Emil, something to let him know an Ikrak had hijacked Justin’s brain. But before he could even finish that thought, an unpleasant shock of ice water dripped down his spine.

“I wasn’t going to,” Justin said. “I don’t even want to now. You don’t have to punish me just for thinking about things.”

It is not a punishment, bondmate, Ivan said, his tentacles wriggling between Justin’s thighs, squirming up his chest. It is part of the bonding. Retrieve your laptop. I will send your email for you.

Justin went over to the couch to pick up his laptop. “I can send my own email,” he said.

You will be busy, Ivan told him.

Justin managed to get out half a syllable of “Wha—” and then his arms were moving, opening the laptop lid without his control. Ivan had taken over; Justin was just a passenger.

Ivan, what—

Justin’s body sat down on the couch, and then a slim, slippery tentacle wriggled its way between his asscheeks, prodding gently at his hole. Fuck, he should have seen this coming.

Ivan, Justin pleaded. I don’t know—

I do know.

Ivan had complete control of Justin’s body. His hands were moving over the keyboard, typing something to Emil that Justin couldn’t focus on, because Ivan’s tentacle was working its way eagerly into Justin’s ass, slick and intrusive.

Justin couldn’t squirm, couldn’t shift his hips, couldn’t even moan or cry out. His breathing and heart rate stayed perfectly steady, while the tentacle in his ass wriggled inside him, pushing deeper and deeper, thickening as it went. It teased against his prostate, thickening inside him. Justin’s cock hardened, stiffening to fully erect, leaking pre-cum down the shaft.

His hands tapped away at the keyboard.

Hi, Emil. Just reporting in to say that I didn’t observe much today. I thought I saw a glimpse of “Ivan” across the courtyard, but he didn’t approach. Nothing else to report. —Justin

A large tentacle slid towards Justin’s cock, rubbing and slithering its way up to the head. It nudged playfully against it. Ivan kept Justin’s hips frozen in place while the frond teased at his cockhead. It went on for a while, teasing and petting, until Justin thought he was going to lose his mind. And then, just as he was about to beg, it thickened and swallowed Justin’s cock completely. The suction was hot and perfect and complete.

I can do this to you any time I want, Ivan said. Imagine riding the subway like this, and fuck, Ivan must have been digging around in his fantasies again. Surrounded by people.

Yeah, Justin could imagine that, standing in a commuter crush swaying on a strap, while Ivan was up inside him, wriggling and squirming, coaxing him towards orgasm. He wouldn’t be able to groan or twitch or move or do anything. He’d just have to stand there and take it.

Yes, Ivan agreed. Like you are taking it now. Perfect mate.

Justin’s hand clicked Send on the email, and all he could do was watch, a passenger in his own body.

Would you really do that? Justin asked in a half-daze. Ivan made Justin look down at the tentacle sucking his cock, watching it as it reared back and then swallowed him down, again and again.

I would, Ivan said. I will. You want me to.

No, Justin thought weakly. I just like the thought of it.

I can taste your pleasure, bondmate, Ivan said. You want it.

And…fuck, Justin did want it. He wanted Ivan to work him over in full view of a crowded subway car, trapped and helpless. Just like he’d wanted Ivan to pin him down. Just like he wanted Ivan to do a lot of things.

Yesyesyes, Ivan agreed. I will give you everything, Justin.

The next few days were a blur. Ivan let him have breaks to eat, sleep, and shower, but otherwise Justin was in his bed, or on the floor, or on the couch, with Ivan’s tentacles down his throat and up his ass. Ivan had done something to his refractory period so that now his cock could be hard any time Ivan wanted it to be hard, which was pretty much always. Justin didn’t even bother protesting. It wouldn’t do any good, and besides, the orgasms were spectacular.

The only real hiccup happened on the fourth day, when Ivan told him that he was ready to feed. Justin leapt up from the couch, where he’d been letting Ivan rub soft, soothing tentacles all over him, and shouted, “No! You can do anything else, but I’m not letting you eat me; I’ll call the fucking UN, I swear to god.”

The horrible tickles of ice water ran down his spine, but Justin didn’t care; he was not going to let Ivan eat any goddamned part of him, Stockholm or no Stockholm. He darted for the door, but Ivan took over his motor functions before he could get there.

Justin. Ivan sounded exasperated. I do not eat your flesh. I eat your… There was a brief pause and momentary vertigo. Your hormones. Another pause, another flash of dizziness. Endorphins, serotonin, dopamine. You produce them when you feel pleasure.

You eat human hormones? Justin asked, aghast. How do we not know this about you?

Laughter vibrated inside Justin’s ribcage. Your people know very little about us, Ivan said, amused. We can only consume this way when we are bonded with the host, and most humans are not bond-capable, he said. You are special, Justin.

So you’re only eating my…hormones? Justin couldn’t believe he was about to actually agree to this. But hormones didn’t sound so bad. Besides, it sounded like Ivan had been eating them since day one anyway.

Correct.

Ivan released Justin from the hold, leaving Justin feeling momentarily bereft. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to like when Ivan took him over. It was like being pinned. Really, really thoroughly pinned.

“Okay,” Justin said. “Brunch is served, I guess. Where do you want me?”

Bed. All fours. I want to try something new.

Justin shivered with anticipation. Most of the new things Ivan wanted to try were dragged straight out of the depths of Justin’s id. It was never anything he’d wanted to actually do in real life, but Ivan didn’t care about that and would ignore all protests. Justin usually came like a freight train as a result.

He went to the bedroom and got on the bed on all fours, ass up and head down, the way Ivan wanted him. Tentacles flowed out of him in every direction, winding around his limbs, sliding into his mouth, suckling at his nipples and stroking his cock.

You are delectable, Justin, Ivan sighed, while Justin sucked at the tentacle throbbing in his mouth. He couldn’t help it. It was so nice to suck. He liked this.

I like this, he thought blearily at Ivan.

Good, Ivan said approvingly. Justin liked when Ivan was happy with him, too. He liked being a good boy. He’d been upset about something before, but it was hard to think about that when sucking felt so very, very good.

More tentacles slithered around his legs, winding around his calves, his thighs, swarming over his hips, brushing against his cock. He moaned around the tentacle in his mouth, tonguing at it, and it pulsed happily in response.

A slender little tentacle probed at his hole. It stroked around his rim, wet and soft like a tongue, and then it pushed inside. God, this felt so filthy and wrong every time Ivan did it to him. The tentacle wriggled and…oh god, it was growing, getting thicker, stretching his rim. Justin mewled frantically as it undulated gently in his ass, heavy and hot and thick.

And then it started to thrust, a long, slow slide out, and then right back in again.

Justin wailed. It was so much. Soft fronds tickled at Justin’s cock, not quite enough to get him off, and then the one fucking his ass expanded again. He sounded like a trapped animal, whimpering and whining around Ivan’s fat tentacle in his mouth.

Please, he begged, please I can’t, please no more. I can’t handle this.

You’re doing very well, Justin, Ivan soothed him. You’re being very good.

The tentacle thickened just a little bit more. Justin sobbed, hips rocking back and forth, tears dripping down his face onto the mattress. The slide and drag in and out of his ass was maddening, and it was so hot, heavy, and thick. Inhumanly thick.

Your pleasure is so intense, Ivan sighed. I have not experienced anything like it.

A tentacle slipped around Justin’s neck, noose-like, resting there warm and pulsing.

Ivan, no, Justin begged. He knew what Ivan had found inside his head. No, please, it’s just a fantasy. I don’t want this. I don’t want it to be real.

Shh, Ivan said, tightening the tentacle around Justin’s neck. Justin’s heart pounded; he tried to swallow past the restriction and couldn’t. The tentacle tightened further, so that his chest heaved with the effort to draw in air. Ivan thrust gently and relentlessly into his ass, never stopping. Justin’s cock was leaking pre-cum all over the sheets.

Ivan squeezed tighter. A haze of red descended over Justin’s vision as he fought to draw air in through his constricted throat. Deep-seated, instinctual panic overrode whatever Ivan had done to his brain to keep him calm. He tried to grab for the tentacle around his throat to release the pressure.

Ivan froze his hands and arms in place.

Justin choked out a feeble cry, terror seizing him. I can’t breathe, he thought desperately. His chest heaved in a futile effort to draw in air that wouldn’t come.

Keep sucking, Ivan said, apparently immune to Justin’s distress.

I can’t, Justin thought frantically. His vision contracted down to a pinpoint. I can’t, Ivan. I’m scared, Ivan, please.

You can. Suck.

He tried, but his efforts were sporadic, arrhythmic. And then with a loud crack, pain blossomed across his ass and he realized that Ivan had just—had just spanked him. Fuck.

Can’t—can’t breathe—Ivan—

Another crack, and another. The tentacle in his ass excitedly writhed, the tip bulging inside him, and the fronds worked his cock faster and harder. Justin’s body heaved, arching and twisting in a desperate effort to escape the restriction around his neck. Another crack landed on his ass.

And then Justin…left. His mind loosed its moorings, untethered and floating free, somewhere in a stratosphere that Ivan had created just for him. Ivan’s control over Justin was perfect and complete. No one else on Earth had ever felt this way. No one else ever would.

I’m ruined for anyone else, he thought, balanced on the knife’s edge of oblivion. No human could do this to me.

Yessss, Ivan echoed in his mind. Justin’s entire body screamed for oxygen. My perfect bondmate.

His tentacle squirmed firmly against Justin’s prostate, and the fronds on Justin’s cock formed into a tightly sucking mouth, and that was it, Justin was gone. He plunged into free fall, spurting, rocking his hips, helplessly fucking back onto the tentacle up his ass.

Yes Justin yes, give it to me, so good, yesyesyes.

Tears spattered onto the sheets, and he would have screamed, but there was no air left. There was no anything left. Nothing.

Nothing.

Ivan, he cried out, and he floated free into the dark.

Justin came to consciousness gradually, warm and comfortable. Mm, he thought sleepily. Ivan was molded around him, stretched over him like a cocoon, warm and pulsing. Three days ago—four? Justin had lost track of time—it would have terrified him. But he liked it now. He felt safe. Cared for.

“‘’s nice,” Justin mumbled, still half-asleep.

You are a perfect host, Ivan said approvingly. No Ikrak has ever fed so well.

Justin smiled into his pillow. Nobody had ever told him he was perfect before. He’d been mediocre at most things he’d tried in his life. It was nice, being perfect for Ivan.

Warm satisfaction pulsed through the bond at that thought, and he hummed contentedly back to Ivan and drifted back to sleep.

Betz, unsurprisingly, found out about the Ikrak leaving Earth before any of the news outlets did. Justin got out of the shower on day 7 to find that he had six missed texts from her. The last one just said CALL ME in all caps.

Justin stared at his phone while he brushed his teeth. He hadn’t talked to Betz since he and Ivan had bonded. She was probably trying to figure out Justin’s next move for him. He really needed her to back off and give him some space while he figured out what the hell to do with the symbiote that was occupying his cells now, but she never accepted no for an answer. It’s how he’d ended up in the internship that had been canceled, and it’s how he’d ended up here.

Ivan wound a tentacle around his wrist, and Justin absently stroked at it. It was funny; in a way, Betz was just as bad about boundaries and consent as Ivan was. Probably worse, because at least Ivan cared if he was having a good time.

He spat toothpaste into the sink. Huh. Maybe that’s why he was such a perfect host.

He sighed. He was going to have to call her back, sooner rather than later.

I will handle it, Ivan interjected.

Justin blinked. Ivan was pretty good at imitating his voice in emails, but talking to his sister, who’d known him his entire life, was a different story.

It’s risky. What if she figures out something’s wrong?

She won’t.

And that was pretty much that. With no further discussion, Justin’s hands started dialing Betz’s number. He wondered if he’d ever get used to the feeling of his body doing things completely outside his control.

He thought about the last time Ivan had taken him over and had a sudden, horrifying thought. Don’t…do anything to me while you’re on the phone with Betz, Justin said. Please.

I would not, Ivan said. It would not please you.

Right. He shouldn’t have worried. Ivan always knew what would and wouldn’t please him. Justin relaxed back into the confines of his own mind, curious about how Ivan was going to handle Hurricane Betz.

“Justin?” his sister said, almost before the call had finished connecting. “Justin, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for half an hour. I have news.”

“Sure,” he heard himself say. “What’s up, Betz?”

“The Ikrak are leaving,” she said.

“What?” Ivan said, sounding exactly like Justin. God, this was bizarre.

“Don’t interrupt me,” Betz said. “You’re going to lose your housing. But I have something already worked out for you—”

“Well, you shouldn’t have, because it’s not necessary,” Ivan said easily. If Justin had had control of his own features, his eyebrows would have leapt off his forehead. He never talked to Betz like that.

An exasperated sigh came over the line. “Justin, now is not the time for you to get fussy about doing things on your own. You can do whatever you want on your own, once you have your housing sorted out, which I have already handled for you. I took care of the last place, and it worked out, didn’t it?”

Other than getting taken over by an alien symbiote, sure, Justin thought. Not that I’m complaining, he added hastily, and Ivan petted his waist with an appreciative frond.

“Thanks, Betz, but no.”

This is where Justin would usually launch into a defensive tirade about how he was an adult and could take care of himself, and Betz would talk right over him as though he hadn’t even said anything.

“Justin—”

“Seriously, Betz, I’ve got this. I’ll keep you updated, okay? Don’t worry about me. We’ll talk soon. Love you.” And then Ivan hung up the phone.

Ivan returned control of his body immediately, but it took Justin half a minute before he could gather himself enough to say something. “Ivan?” he finally managed. “That was amazing.”

It is what you wanted, bondmate. There are many ways to bring you pleasure.

Justin had never really understood what people meant when they said they were speechless. But he got it now. He’d just had the stark, exhilarating realization that he was sharing a body with a being who was completely, fully devoted to Justin’s happiness and pleasure—a being who, by all indications, genuinely liked Justin. No, who adored Justin.

Justin thought he might be starting to adore Ivan in return. But that was too big a thought to wrap his head around right now. He tried to collect himself.

“So, uh, where are we going to live?” he managed. “And what am I going to do?”

I sent out inquiries last night while you were sleeping; we have a room reserved in an inexpensive hostel for the next week, which will allow us time to find an apartment.

As for what you will do—you have a degree in civil architecture, and there are no fewer than ten firms in the greater metropolitan area of New York City that are hiring. If you would like to leave New York, there are even more opportunities. If you would like to explore a career outside architecture, even more opportunities than that.

Justin’s mouth dropped open. “I’m—we’re—getting a job?”

We will do whatever you want.

God, this was so much, so fucking much. He blurted out the first thing that popped into his head.

“Betz said I had to get an internship before anyone would hire me.”

Incorrect. My research indicates otherwise.

“And what do you mean, other opportunities?” Justin asked, his mind catching up to that part of the conversation. “I only have one degree, and no real qualifications.”

You are clever and adaptable, bondmate. You can do anything you like, especially with my assistance. If you do not want to pursue civil architecture, there are many other fields. You once considered English literature, I believe.

He had wanted to major in English lit. But Betz had convinced him it wasn’t marketable.

If it is what you want, then it is what we will do. As bondmates, we have a sacred mandate to care for each other’s wishes.

Justin sat with that for a while, reeling. His future was swinging open like a screen door in the wind, all because of Ivan.

“Okay, so…what do you want?” he asked. If he was supposed to care for Ivan’s wishes, he might as well find out what they were.

A simple question with a simple answer, Ivan said, pleased. I wish to delight my bondmate. I wish for you to be happy and content.

“I am,” Justin said, surprised to realize that it was true. “I am happy and content.” He wasn’t anxious, and he wasn’t dreading his next phone call from Betz. He wasn’t worried that he was going to have to move in with his parents. And he wasn’t afraid of Ivan.

Ivan wound several tentacles possessively around his waist and chest, and Justin smiled. “Hungry?” he asked.

Always.

Justin leaned back on the couch, spreading his limbs while Ivan sprouted tentacles that squirmed and slithered down his skin. “I should probably start packing later,” Justin murmured, giving over to the pleasurable sensations. “Your people are leaving soon.”

Tomorrow, Ivan confirmed.

“Won’t you miss them?” Justin asked. A tentacle curled around his neck, pulsing in anticipation. “I’d think it would be lonely, being the only Ikrak left on Earth.”

I have a bondmate, Ivan said, slipping a tentacle into Justin’s mouth to let him suck. I will never be lonely again. He tightened the tentacle around Justin’s throat.

I’m lucky you found me, Justin thought in a haze, while a fat tentacle worked its way into his ass. He groaned, arching his back. His phone buzzed nearby, forgotten, while Justin writhed.

Ivan sighed, enjoying his warm, soft bondmate spasming in his embrace, absorbing his exquisite pleasure hormones. Justin was perfect, and Ivan would do anything to keep him happy. He dove into his bondmate’s brain to pull from the seemingly-endless supply of desires there. He flashed an image into Justin’s mind to show him what he’d found.

Sounding, Justin called it. Justin was making loud noises and trying to wriggle away from Ivan’s tentacles, but his pleasure had spiked and taken on a sharp, intense flavor. Justin would enjoy this. And Ivan very much liked the idea of having another way to be inside his bondmate’s lovely, pliant body.

Ivan formed a tiny, slick tentacle and poised it just at the head to Justin’s cock, enjoying the vibration of Justin’s cries. Justin’s pleasure was delectable. Ivan loved his little bondmate so much. There were so many more things that Ivan could do with him, and he would do them all.

He slid his frond gently and carefully into the slit of Justin’s cock, and Justin sobbed, his pleasure spiking higher and higher. It was perfect. He was perfect.

I am so lucky, Ivan said.

Justin didn’t respond, his thoughts incoherent and jumbled, but that was all right. Ivan hummed contentedly.

They had all the time in the world.