Work Text:
And Cat only realised, on the fourth night of his confinement to one quarantine pod, that what he'd been convinced was merely a fantasy, was actually true. It'd started that morning. Him and Fontaine had shared the single twin- top and tail, of course- while Lister slept on the hard little sofa that faced their near useless television. The first thing that made him feel like something wrong was being woken up to (what he thought was), the receding feeling of pain in his shin from a very familiar action to him.
"Were you clawing at my leg?!" Cat sat up, irritated, pulling his trousers to check for damage to the fabric. Indeed, there were several loose threads from what was undeniably genetically altered nails. The other two woke up from his admittedly loud outburst, Lister looking annoyed, before his practiced expression of calmness came over his face. Fontaine, however, did far less to mask her displeasure. The fur of her tail bristled, and she sat up defensively, her decorative ears pinning against her head. "You've got cheap trousers, I did nothing to you."
The second thing that happened that day happened only half an hour later (not that Cat was keeping track from sincere interest in someone else). They were slowly chewing through their breakfasts. Thankfully, Rimmer had replaced all sprout meals fairly soon, due to the shortened supplies. Lister had a bad habit of forcibly expelling most things he personally hated out of the airlock, so, much to their relief, there was only a day and a half of sprout-themed dishes. So Cat was now eating his usual boiled whitebait, Fontaine eating dry Frosties, and Lister working through three Sugarpuff-and-cheese toasties. Usually, the other cat ate aggressively; as she'd allowed her genetics to flow through the broken programming of her mind, she'd developed several habits- mostly animal themed. The most prominent of them was her resource guarding. Cat understood, he struggled personally with constantly spraying his territory, a usual compulsion of male cats, and had gotten very upset about her new scent disrupting what was his as he'd gotten used to her being on board. However, what he didn't understand was why she had leaned forwards to him over breakfast, her tail looking extra bushy as it flicked loosely at her back, and said in an oddly intimate tone, "You ever tried Frosties, Cat? They're soo good."
Immediately, him and Lister shared a concerned look. The only emotions she'd displayed to them had been overtly ungrateful and criticising, not to mention a large amount of unhygienic habits: although, compared to Lister's, she was positively germaphobic.
The third, and what prefaced the situation he found himself in now, happened in the evening. They hadn't spoken much to each other as a group that day, except one. Fontaine had usually preferred to speak to Lister in general conversation but today, Cat was her main focus. She kept asking him meaningless questions. Normally, he would've brushed her away, uninterested, but something about her general demeanour kept him patient and surprisingly curious about her. He hadn't struck it as strange, though, until they'd had supper. Having no true pyjamas to wear, but still concerned about the state of his clothes, he'd opted to start taking off his shirt. He would've hung his trousers up too, but he'd found himself uncharacteristically shy in front of a woman. After delicately hanging his shirt over the bathroom door, he'd sat on the sofa, his head tilted to gaze at the fluorescent light flickering at them overhead. The feeling of her clawing his trousers again distracted him once more, particularly as she pricked through to the soft flesh of his thigh. As he stared down at her in surprise, the final realisation hit him. Heat. Of course that was it. It'd been so long since he was with other cats, especially female ones, that he'd completely forgotten their thrice-a-year periods of heat. He'd always been jealous of his brothers; their complete acceptance into the society had led them to be able to interact with the women. Although their heat cycle led them to be incessantly hungry for sex, they still held their intelligence, and only lusted after male cats who were actually desired outside of these periods.
His knowledge of being so totally unattractive and "uncool" to all others had given him a furious envy, and his way of coping was to completely oppose that. He was a cat, after all, and cats (according to human stereotype) were solitary, selfish and utterly self-absorbed. Love for oneself was a perfect coping mechanism: if there was no one else who wanted him, why not allow himself to want himself? But this- the behaviour he was seeing from the woman in front of him now, it filled him with a strange, dreading feeling of kinship. He didn't know how to respond. Claws continued to prick his skin, joined by a loose purring. It'd been years since he heard purring. Lister would occasionally catch him doing it himself, when he was given a particularly nice fish by a vending machine, or napping extra pleasantly on his bed (before Cat was allowed to relocate into the boiler room and have his own room), and mocked him for it respectively. Since then, the sound of purring had completely left Red Dwarf, when it had once shook the walls of the hold from the strength of happiness that the cats were in. He looked over his shoulder at Lister now, still unsure as to what he could do about Fontaine. The man was asleep, flat on his back. Kryten was also in standby, he may be able to hear what was surrounding him, but he'd only respond once he was directly called. Cat didn't care too much of what a robot thought about Felis Sapien relationships anyway. He finally looked back at Fontaine and met her gaze, reaching out with his own clawed fingers to gently prick her arm.
They moved quickly into the only private area- the bathroom. It was one sink, one toilet, and one shower with just enough space for one small person to stand in the centre. Fontaine sat on the closed toilet lid, gazing up at Cat as her tail flicked in the shower cubicle. He stood in front of her, unsure. This was going to be his first everything. From what he knew about the brief story she'd given about what happened before they found her, she'd, although unwittingly, had more sexual experience than him. Her deep mistrust of men had given her introduction on board a sour filter, and Cat couldn't help but feel flattered somewhat by her desire for him. Despite it all, she could see beyond his male facade, and an uncertain bond had formed between them. This bond strengthened as she stood up, her body causing Cat to back against the flimsy swing door. He leant in to smell her; what he thought was merely an imagination of her pheromones became real to him, and it intoxicated him. Her whiskers tickled under his chin as she pressed her nose against his neck, breathing in deeply. Unconsciously, his hands reached up to hold her upper back closer to him, pressing her chest against his, then cradling the back of her head as he tentatively stroked her hair. Reaching forward, her arms circled his waist, pulling him forward so their hips bumped together. Cringing, Cat leant his hips back. He was already hard- this was the most intersex contact he'd ever had, and he knew his reaction was juvenile at best. Fortunately for him, she simply laughed and pulled him back, tugging him to sit down in the cubicle with her.
Climbing over him, she tilted his chin up so they made eye contact. Her eyes were so blue, it looked painful. There were brown rims around the iris, like ill-fitting contact lenses. His hand reached up to touch just under her eye, but she moved before he did so, kissing him. It was so soft. Cat had never been kissed before, but all simmering worries about his technique (once the day finally arrived) died as he felt her lips. Their pointed teeth seemed like something that'd severely hinder the experience, but all it did was enhance the feeling of closeness as they worked around it. Fontaine drifted her attention to his neck, kissing under his jaw and biting at his collarbone. Cat's breath hitched, and he closed his eyes. Heat had rushed to the bottom of his stomach, and it felt euphorically unfamiliar. He'd masturbated- many times, but no kind of feeling on his dick from his own hand could compare to just her teeth and tongue on his skin. Her hand ran down his torso, feeling the three nipples on his right side and fiddling gently with the piercing on the lowest.
"I didn't realise you literally would have so many of these." She said, taking Cat out of the mood slightly. "What? I'm a cat."
"I'm a cat. I don't have six nipples."
Cat blinked. He'd not put much thought into it, but he assumed her biology would've matched his species. Female cats, although only having six breasts well into pregnancy, still had the same amount as men. His fingers nervously touched her stomach, stroking over where they would be. Pulling at her clothes, she tugged off her shirt and let him touch her skin again.
"See? Only two."
It surprised him that she wore a bra, even if it was a "white" sports affair that held no shape except her natural form. He could see through the semi-transparent fabric, the sight of it being the most he'd ever actually seen of a naked woman in the flesh.
They kissed again, rolling over so Cat had her against the cold tile, her leg moving up to hook him downwards as his hands ran over her body. She caught his hair in her claws and it came loose as she tugged her hand free. Typically, that'd elicit a very irritated response from him- his hair was one of his most admired features, but he found he didn't even care that much as she ran her fingers through the loose waves, kissing his neck and biting gently at his earlobe as she whispered how beautiful he looked with it down. Hearing that made his purr, which had been quietly humming in the background, vibrate louder. Laughing quietly, Fontaine ran her nails lightly down his back, pausing at his trousers. Her hands skimmed round to the front, palming his dick as he groaned shakily, dipping his head so he didn't have to look at her. The sheer desperation he felt was so unlike his character that he felt disappointed in himself. Surely he'd be more aloof having his virginity taken than this? Hands trembling slightly, he put them over where she was touching him, a look of pure nerve in his eyes.
"Are you okay?" Fontaine blinked at him, and he nodded quickly.
"I've- I don't know how-"
A smile came over her face, although she tried to hide it. He hissed a little, offended. "Don't laugh."
"Sorry, sorry. Just, ah- follow what I do." She put her hand over his, and pressed it firmly against her breast. Letting go, she allowed him to touch her gently, and then took her bra off as he nervously pulled at it. He took some time to look over her torso, working his mouth and hands as he studied her in detail, pausing at the waistband of her borrowed trousers. Fontaine pushed his head away as he pressed his nose into her crotch, saliva pooling inexplicably in his mouth. Sitting back on his knees, he palmed his dick, rubbing the heel of his hand against the tip as he straightened up his spine. Her expression darkened into lust as she watched him, tilting her head. "Do it properly."
Swallowing, Cat understood what she meant. He was becoming desperate to please her, just even for a glimpse of what lay beneath her trousers. Unzipping his own and pulling the waistband of his briefs down to expose his dick, he avoided direct eye contact with her as he spat into his palm, coating his shaft as he stroked himself.
"Look at me."
Gazing up at her, his breath hitched as he saw what she was doing. Her trousers lay to the side, her hand down her underwear as she touched herself in front of him. They watched each other as they pleasured themselves, the only sound in the air the occasional sigh or quiet moan. Cat didn't think he'd be able to stop himself from finishing much longer and moved forward, cautiously dipping his head once more down to Fontaine's underwear. She allowed him this time, letting him press his nose against the red material and tug at the damp spot from her arousal with his teeth, taking the fabric into his mouth as he pulled at it. He was more intending to suck on it than remove it, but the underwear slid down her legs as he took it, and he abandoned it for her true self.
It was beautiful. Cat drew his tongue over her pussy, tasting it. A sigh of want from the woman drove him further, and he brushed over it, exploring it with his mouth. He soon realised what made her tighten her legs around his head and abused it, hungrily continuing until he felt her hand push his head away forcibly, her breaths coming in short. Moving up her body, Cat pressed the tip of his dick against her pussy, pushing his head into the join of her shoulder and neck as he glazed himself with her wetness, stroking his dick over the outside of her hole. Unable to help himself, he slowly entered her, feeling her claws pierce the skin of his back as she grabbed him tighter, tilting her hips so he could push in deeper. The feeling of her was indescribable, and he started a rhythm of movement, joined by her own. She moaned almost every time his hips drew back. The spines of his dick, although now evolved simply for female pleasure rather than to ensure pregnancy, dragged down inside her. She shifted, allowing him to pull out before pushing him up against the tiles and sitting on his dick. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she moved, now in almost full control of their movements as he could only move slightly upwards.
Sucking in air through his closed teeth, he grunted as she rode him, his noises fading into a whine as he felt her start to draw climax out of him.
"Holy Mother-" He cried out as she kept him right on the brink, only moving half as quickly as she'd been before. Breathing heavily, he pressed his forehead against her upper chest as she drew her fingers through his hair again. He bit at her primally, his need to finish overcoming any sense of politeness. Distracting the (most likely) painful biting, she tilted his head up to kiss him again, her hips moving back to their original rhythm as she saw she'd teased him too much. It didn't take long for him to jerk his hips spasmodically, finishing inside her. They sat for a moment, him breathing hard as he took in what he'd just achieved, and then that she'd not yet came. Pulling out, he brought his head between her legs once more, tasting himself within her as he drew his tongue over her. He went back into the movements he'd done before, ignoring as she pulled his hair and tangled her fingers into it, totally ruining any style it'd had, her legs trembling as she pressed his head between them. Her feet skidded across the tile floor as he continued, her breathing shallow and short as she tensed up. He felt her finish under his tongue, and carried on through it, slowing his movements to become more gentle as her breathing faded back to its regular pace. Only once he felt her calm down enough to pull away, did he drift up to relax against her.
The silence between them only lasted a few minutes, but it stretched in his mind as they held each other, sweaty and satisfied. Cat couldn't believe how relaxed he was feeling about himself. He couldn't stand feeling dirty, and the combination of that with his mussed up hair- he'd typically be frantically cleaning himself. But now, he just stretched his legs out, listening to the mixed sound of Fontaine's purr and heartbeat. They were both half asleep before Fontaine shifted, tipping Cat off her lap.
"We should- uh, get dressed." She said, standing up to put her clothes on. Watching her, he stayed on the floor for a moment before getting up. They barely dressed, only covering what was necessary for others, and crept back to the main room, giggling quietly. Since Lister took the bed, Cat lay on the couch, Fontaine on top of him.
"What's that there?"
It was the next morning, and Cat was attempting to fix his hair from yesterday. Lister was taking a piss behind him in the "bathroom", while Cat stood in front of the mirror. He looked over his shoulder, irritated. "What?"
Lister prodded his back where the scratches from Fontaine's clawing had started to scab. Cat blushed guiltily. "Nothing."
