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Katon-Ur needs to get off, urgently. Maybe not urgently, that makes it sound more important than his work, but it’s pertinent enough to linger in the back of his mind.
He’d learned that humans don’t like when he talks about intercourse. When he told Robert that his relationship with Blonde Blazer failed because they couldn’t properly have intercourse, the man moved past the topic quickly. He found it odd because some of the others talk about intercourse like it is no big deal, or joke about it in ways that have to be explained to him afterwards by a rosy embarrassed face. Lots of talk and laughter about sucking, cream filled pastries, slapping posteriors and grabbing groins, etc., etc. If he tried to initiate a conversation with that at its core, he’d say something wrong, too innocent, and the Z-Team would laugh him all the way back to Urgot-52dc.
So now, when he’s laying awake at night warm and hungry for days in a row, he doesn’t know who to talk to about it. He stares at the ceiling of his apartment. White. The walls are white too. So dull. Not at all like a sunrise, or the beauty of the ocean. He needs some art on his walls, but he likes it all, he can’t stick to a certain color scheme or a style like he’s supposed to. Leaning over in bed, he picks up his brick of a laptop. Blazer had given it to him so he could research things about Earth on his own, and he tries to find something to entertain himself. Obviously he’s tried watching human pornography before, but the pretty women mostly made him miss Blazer and didn’t arouse him all that much. Maybe he wasn’t really attracted to her? After their break up, he’s felt a bit relieved despite the depression. He has much more freedom to experiment and look at other humans, and he finds himself fairly attracted to the human men in the videos. There’s a video with a man that looks like Punch Up that he watches, but the woman doesn’t look like Coupé, so it doesn’t hold his attention for long.
Then, he finds a few videos he likes of human men masturbating by themselves, specifically of men with what is called a ‘vulva,’ and they look a little more like his species. The big difference between him and these men is that, at the top of his vulvae (yes, plural), where a clitoris would be, are thin, flaccid rods used for impregnation. Incapable of pleasuring a human woman without the proper pheromones, judging by the size of the penises in the recordings. Those scare him a little. He lingers on a video of a hairy man shoving a silicone thing into himself. It’s purple. His face feels warm. Thrusting his hand down his underwear, he runs his fingers over his penises and waits for something to happen, but… Hardening will never occur, and he knows that, but he still has hope.
The man in the video moans, so he turns the volume up.
With his other hand, he splits his fingers between his two holes and thrusts them in. He wiggles his underwear down his hips in order to get more room for his hand. As he pumps his hand, slick leaks from his vulvae and clicks wetly against his fingers. He should have laid out towels before doing this, but he’s trying to be more spontaneous with his body. A little more human, less of a stranger. He whimpers and his hips jerk and twitch. There’s a pressure building in his gut, but his fingers aren’t nearly thick enough to satisfy him.
Maybe he could find one of those purple things? But he doesn’t know where to start. He’ll ask Robert tomorrow, that seems safe. Even if it becomes awkward, he’s confident that Robert will answer his questions concisely and accurately. He’s an intelligent person. Katon thinks about Robert as he crooks his fingers, pressing against a spot that makes him curl in on himself.
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The next day, just before Robert puts his headset on, Katon approaches him nervously. He fiddles with his fingers and Robert looks up at him expectantly, raising a brow. “Yes?” is all he says, and Katon shudders before responding.
“I would like to speak with you, Robert.”
“… Okay? We have to get goin’ soon, so, I dunno Phenomaman, hurry up?” His intonation comes up at the end, so his statement must be somewhat sarcastic, or purposefully seeming meaner than he truthfully is. Katon nervously glances over the cubicles at Galen, and Robert gets the hint. He sighs, then says, “Find me at lunch, okay bud? Try to resist asking someone else on the team your definitely weird question.” Katon nods and walks away.
He gets a little sad around eleven in the morning, but he manages to make it to the afternoon without too many hiccups. When he walks into the break room, Robert is stirring sugar into his coffee. His third coffee, he suspects. Katon shuts the door behind himself and sits down in one of the little folding chairs. It creaks loudly, as it’s not meant to support such a large frame. Robert sits down across from him and rubs his eyes harshly. He mutters something under his breath, gestures for him to start talking, then takes a sip of his coffee. Of course, Katon doesn’t quite get the ‘go on’ gesture and awkwardly shifts on his chair. Robert swallows the coffee as quickly as he can comfortably and verbally says, “Go on.”
“I am interested in purchasing something to pleasure myself with, but I do not know where to go.”
“Jesus, I don’t even get- Never mind,” he mutters, waving his hand, “Do you mean a dildo? You wanna buy one?” he says drolly.
“Yes!” he chirps cheerfully. “Potentially other things, as well.”
Robert looks up and to the left as he thinks before responding. Scratches his slowly growing facial hair. “There’s a place on Amherst that’ll probably hook you up with what you want. But!” he puts a finger up sternly, “Do not, and I cannot stress this enough, do not wear your suit. Fuck, don’t even use your powers. Definitely don’t fly there. I don’t think I can handle the stress of having news reporters asking me why you were in a sex shop.”
“Why would it be strange for me to be in a shop meant for sex?”
He sighs. “Because it would be, okay? Humans are weird, we get excited when weird shit happens.”
Katon nods like he understands and stops for a moment to take in Robert’s face. He likes his face. He finds his deep brown eyes aesthetically pleasing. Thanking him for his time, he leaves. Well, tries. The door is opened right into Sonar’s nose, causing him to reel back in pain and make a horrible screeching sound. He must have been trying to listen through the wall or door frame, with Malevola and Prism waiting eagerly for gossip behind him. They all enter a very animated conversation about something nonsensical when Katon looks at them. He waves at them cautiously, smiling as he tries not to look at their chests, and the two women wave back. Malevola even pats him on the shoulder before stalking into the break room with Prism close behind, and he can hear them pester Robert about what he had just talked about.
Just as he wanders away from that debacle and into the bullpen, Katon runs into- err, trips over Punch-Up. The man grunts as Katon floats over him in a desperate attempt to catch himself. “Woah! Didn’t know you would do that!” he says, staring up at him. He likes his eyes, too. The gray-green isn’t commonly expressed in humans, which makes him all the more enigmatic. Katon cocks his head and keeps staring at him to an uncomfortable degree. Punch-Up takes a few steps to the left, looks to the side and mutters gruffly, “I- I think you can come down now.”
“Oh! Uh. Yes, of course.” He floats back down and grips his fingers anxiously. The situation is awkward. “Hah.” He opens and shuts his mouth repeatedly as he tries to think of something interesting or even witty to say, but Punch-Up keeps looking away as though he’s trying to find an escape. “I enjoy looking at your facial hair,” he tries, pointing loosely, and he can’t help but flush as he attempts to smile. He scratches his stubbly chin. “It makes you look grandiose despite your small stature.”
“Uhm. Thanks? I like your mustache too. Kinda miss the chops though, made you look like you should be in a fucking leisure suit.” He looks calmer than he did before, Katon notices.
“What is a suit of leisure?”
Punch-Up strokes his mustache with thick fingers as he thinks. He finally answers, “They were popular in the 70’s. Have you seen a disco ball? The spinny balls with the mirrors that hang from the ceiling.” A nod. “Mutton chops were in then, too. You’d look good in a leisure suit, that’s my point.”
“Perhaps I should regrow them, then, and look into getting one of these suits of leisure.”
“Sure, man. You do that,” he says, laughing. Perhaps imagining him in one of these suits. Why would it be so funny? Punch-Up walks away, still chuckling, before he can ask. Something to research.
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In the evening, he puts on his casual clothing – simply a black t-shirt with blue jeans – and makes his way uptown. He feels strange walking on the sidewalk and even stranger riding the bus, but it makes him feel more like a member of human society and not just a beacon of justice and peace for humanity. He watches a woman wearing a tight purple shirt make love- er, hug a man on the sidewalk, and he sighs wistfully.
The store itself has a little bell in the doorway that jingles when he opens the door. There’s a woman behind the counter that cannot be older than twenty five, and she reminds him of Invisigal if she had more facial piercings. Mannequins in lacy underwear line one wall and he cannot force himself to look at them for more than a moment. He starts down the central aisle and peruses the stock; Lots of rubber purple rods and leather harnesses and cold metal meant to shock warm skin. He doesn’t really know what he wants or needs beyond what he came for, and even then he isn’t confident in his ability to choose a good product. He pokes a bumpy rubbery pad curiously. He squeezes a mysterious ball on a strap. Metal ringlets jingle against one another as he sniffs the leather.
Katon decides to ask the clerk what she recommends.
“Hello, I’d like some help choosing a product to pleasure myself with,” he says, smiling awkwardly. The clerk smiles back the same way, but she has a look on her face that he can’t interpret. Discomfort?
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” she asks suspiciously, and Katon shakes his head. He doesn’t like lying to humans, but yes, he just happens to be an abnormally large man that has beautiful masculine facial hair. Definitely. She scrutinizes him until she decides that she isn’t paid enough to care. “Is there anything particular you’re looking for, or, uh, would you like an overview?”
“Uhm,” is all he gets out at first. He flushes and fiddles with the bottom hem of his shirt, not expecting himself to be so nervous. He had thought that it was strange to be uncomfortable about intercourse, but he’s starting to understand. If he asks this complete stranger about what he should buy, she’ll know about both his genitals and his evening plans, which is a little more than he’d like to share with her. He takes a deep breath and gets over it as best he can. “My species is cosexual,” he explains, “I’d like to purchase something penetrative.”
The cashier has a stunned moment of silence, and he worries that he said something wrong again. She shakes her head as though literally shaking a thought out of her mind and sighs. There’s no one else in the store, so she shrugs and takes him on a little guided tour of the store. She tiredly explains things like vibrators and anal plugs to him, and he nods like a diligent student. As they rove through the store, they end up in the back ‘cock corner,’ which Katon considers seriously. There are many long, thick ones (scary), a few ridged ones that twist into a spear-like point (odd and animalistic), and, the ones he gravitates towards, a small collection of perfectly average silicone phalluses. He picks up two of the nicest looking ones – short, fat, with a peach to red gradient and the widest point being the middle. They get thrown into a rustling yet discreet black bag along with a bottle of lube and a little vibrating thing that he liked.
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When Katon gets home, he sets up what could possibly be his nicest night in he’s ever had. First, he takes a hot bath. His little clunky radio is tuned to a classical station – he likes the complexity of the music – and set on a bath tray with a glass of whiskey. He enjoys the burn of alcohol in his throat, even if he doesn’t feel the intoxicating effect of it all that strongly. Slumping down into the tub, he exhales like a comfortable dog and listens to the string instruments. He touches himself a little, but it doesn’t last long. Then, he takes the time to properly dry his damp skin and hair and get warm with the softest blankets he owns. Swaddles himself up in a multi color cocoon and lays there for about twenty minutes. He checks his phone for messages, another brick of technology, and takes his time warming up to the idea of what he’s about to do. Not like it’s scary, or that he thinks it’s abnormal, but more that he isn’t exactly sure how to start. He needs some towels under him though, and he needs to unswaddle himself. Three towels get thrown across his mattress before he settles down and pulls the two dicks and the lube out of the rustling bag from beside his bed.
He tries to start by thinking about attractive people. That’s what’s correct, right? He tries not to think of the Z-Team initially, because he doesn’t have intentions of courting any of them. Then again, it doesn’t harm anyone if he only thinks about them. He thinks about Prism’s full cyan lips and Robert’s deep brown eyes as he thrusts his hand down. He thinks about Malevola’s well toned legs as he sinks his head into his soft pillows. He thinks about Punch-Up’s thick fingers and hands as he pulls his penises aside to touch his vulvae with one hand. They tingle when he touches them, and he whimpers to himself in the darkness of his bedroom. There’s a dull warmth in his groin, and he grips his sheets with a sweaty palm. He runs his fingers along the lips of one of his holes before sticking his finger in. A second one follows it, and he spreads his fingers apart in an attempt to stretch himself open. He sits like that for a few moments before reaching for one of the dildos.
He lubes it up well before plunging it inside himself, feeling the wonderful yet near painful stretch. It squelches as he pushes it in to the base. Every time his thigh twitches, he can feel the cock shift in him, and he sighs, pleased with himself. He takes the time to run his free fingers over his hairy chest and groin, squeezing himself pleasantly, and his hips surge up towards his hand as he bites his lip. Pumping the one dildo in and out of himself, he has slick dripping down over the curve of his ass and soaking into the towels. The fluid keeps bubbling and popping in his cunt, creating a fantastic sizzling feeling that he urgently needs to come back as soon as it fades. He feels a hot building pressure behind his left penis. It won’t move or firm up and he’s well aware of that, but he tilts the toy towards the pressure anyway. He cries out helplessly and bares his neck to the ceiling. Moaning, he thrusts the toy inside himself frantically.
He thinks about Punch-Up- Colm, his name is Colm. He thinks about his dick and whether or not it’s appropriately sized for his body. Katon hopes that he’s this size. This exactly average for humans, even a bit on the small side, cock. It feels fantastic, he can’t even begin to imagine doing it with an actual person, human or otherwise. His fingers alone are probably this thick, not counting for length. He imagines that they’re Colm’s fingers inside him, pressing against the spongy spot at the back of his canal, nails scraping the sensitive flesh. Or- or what if it was Robert? He seems sexually aware and like he would enjoy exploring his body with a tender hand. He’d speak in that gravelly, tired voice, praising him for being so good at taking his cock, and he’d call him Katon-Ur as he pounds him into the mattress. Katon would moan every beat. He’d stare at him with those dark brown eyes as his own roll back in his head. What if- what if it was both of them at once? He has two holes, both of them could be filled by them in a single encounter.
That would be the best possible outcome of courting the two men at the same time.
Desperate to chase the idea, he runs the second toy through his leaking slick and pushes it into his right hole. He manages to take hold of both of the dildos in one hand and pumps his hand as quickly as he comfortably can. The warmth of the slide in and out makes him shiver in delight. A dry spot on one of the toys catches his skin painfully and it practically forces him to shout wordlessly, and he cants his hips up into the feeling. He’s almost tempted to pull the toys back out and clean them off just so he can feel that sore tugging again. Heat builds low in his gut and coils up underneath his dicks. Clenching his thighs, he bears down on the pressure again as he plunges the toys in and out of himself. He pictures both men over top of him, pressing him down into his bed with as much force as they can. His dicks twitch uselessly, so he takes up both of them in his slick, free hand and pulls. They burn at every point of contact, ever so sensitive, and they let a little precum leak out. More slick oozes out as he squeezes his legs together, wet clicking emphasizing every jerk of his hips. The room is silent otherwise, and he focuses on his heavy panting. His tongue feels dry. He whimpers quietly, restraining himself as though someone will hear him ravaging his own cunts.
It feels like the heat of the sun itself is writhing through his skin, and he slides his feet up the mattress. The angle change is just what he needed as he rumbles deep in his throat, trying his hardest not to orgasm immediately. He stops jerking his hand as his whole body twitches, but the pause only intensifies the feeling when he starts thrusting the toys into himself again. It burns phenomenally. Another one, two, three pumps before he seizes and cums, crying out to his empty bedroom. Cum leaks out of his limp dicks lazily as he practically milks them. When it seems like they’re done, he struggles to pull the dildos out against the suction of his cunts. They come out with two wet, separate pops and he plops them aside on the towel. His chest glistens with sweat as he desperately tries to catch his breath, and he feels tingly all over his body. Huffing and puffing, he sits up and wipes his wet hand over his hot chest. His legs feel shaky. He rolls onto his side for a moment and takes a deep breath. His cum smells musky and almost like rain, and the scent mixes with his acidic sweat.
He needs to bathe again. That’s the first thing he thinks. The second thing he thinks about is whether or not any of the team could psychically know what he just did. It wasn't exactly quiet thinking, and he doesn't know what kind of secret powers some of them may have. Maybe Robert has lied about being powerless and he can actually read minds? That's terrifying!
A little panicked, he attempts to clean up.