Notes

White was nervous after the announcement, sure, but he took a breath and reminded himself that it was very unlikely for any imposters to be on this specific ship. They’d said only a few ships were infected, and Polus had never had issues in the time he’d been on it. It was best to get to work, get his mind off the announcement, and stave off the oncoming panic attack. He had things to do, anyways. Get to the garden. Harvest the plants. Cook the food. It was simple, and he was used to it, and that’s what mattered. He waved at Yellow as they rushed by, blushed as Pink ran around him before continuing on. It was easy to dig the carrots and potatoes out of the ground, harder to grab the apples when he had to reach around the wires in the way. After his work was done, he walked through the airlocks and into the research lab. Polus hadn’t been built with a kitchen in mind, but despite the obvious oversight, they’d been assigned to it anyways. The research lab was sterile enough that everyone just decided to use it for cooking as well, and so things had worked out. White peeled the potatoes, taking as little flesh off as he could. Pink had mentioned before that she liked that about him- the careful way he used his hands, how clever he was with them.
Best not to think about that while cooking.
He pushed the potatoes to the side, rinsed off the peeler, and then grabbed a knife to start cutting the carrots. The airlock hissed behind him, and without turning, he called out to whoever was entering the room. “Dinner isn’t ready yet, but it will be soon, okay? If you’re done with your work and want to help me get done faster, though, that would be appreciated!”
There was no response. White gripped the knife tighter and squeezed his eyes closed. “I can’t exactly spare any snacks right now, but I promise the food will be done quickly!”
A hand landed on his shoulder, and he shook. Tilting his head slightly, he recognized the pink glove resting on the outside of his suit. Pink let go of him, and stepped forwards. “Darling, believe me, it’s not the food that I’m hungry for.”
White dropped the knife and ran. He didn’t get far, only about halfway through to the passageway that led to the admin room before Pink caught up, pushing him to the ground and holding the knife to the seam between his suit and his helmet. The windows were blocked out by snow, he realized dimly, which meant nobody could see in. Nobody would see what happened to him here. Pink pulled off her helmet and smiled at him, as if she could tell exactly what he had realized. “C’mon, pretty, are you really gonna leave me waiting? Take off the helmet.”
He shivered.
“I said, take off the helmet.”
White shakily reached his arms up, undoing the seal around his neck and pushing up with his hands until his helmet popped off. Pink leaned back for a second, pulling the knife away slightly, and White immediately flipped over and tried to struggle away. One of his arms was caught and twisted behind his back, and Pink’s free hand gently rested the knife against the back of White’s neck. When White went still, Pink let go off his arm, pulled off her glove, and flattened her hand against the back of White’s head. “You stay still, and we won’t have to worry about anyone getting hurt, alright?”
Without waiting for an answer, she pulled the knife away, flipped White over, and started unzipping his suit. Despite himself, White knew he was already wet, and Pink confirmed it when she dipped her fingers under his waistband and into his cunt. Fully unzipping his suit with her other hand, she brought her fingers to his mouth. He licked at them, and while one of her hands was at his lips and the other was at his zipper, he managed to grasp the knife with the tips of his fingers. In a flash, she had grabbed his arm, pushing at the inside of his wrist until he was forced to let go of the knife. “That’s not very nice,” she muttered as she picked up the handle and turned back towards him. “It seems we’re going to have to get a little creative here, if we want to keep you from trying that again.”


It felt like it’d been hours, lying on the cold floor of the hallway, Pink’s tongue licking at his clit while the knife’s edge rested against his lower belly. He didn’t dare move, and every time she raised her head she looked at him like she wanted to eat him. “Darling, I get the idea this isn’t quite working for you, is it?”
He shook his head frantically, not sure if he wanted to avoid angering her or if he just didn’t want her to stop. She laughed at him, a harsh sort of bark, and dragged the flat of the knife over his stomach and down his leg. “I’ve got an idea that’ll work much better, sweetheart, I promise.” She leaned back and patted her thigh. “Come here, pet.”
He sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the knife still resting on his skin. She removed it once he was fully up, then gestured for him to move to a crawling position, moving forward until he was perched above her leg. She pushed his hips down, moved him until the slick spot between his legs was up against her thigh. He couldn’t help it, grinding down without even thinking, but she only smiled at him when he stopped. With that, he kept moving, trying to get as much sensation on his clit as he could, tucking his hands behind his back and holding them together. It wasn’t long until he slumped forwards, head on her shoulder, the stars she kept at bay for so long suddenly sparking behind his eyes. Pink bounced her leg up a little and he whined, too sensitive for any more than that. She paused, set the knife aside, and ran her hands through his hair. “You did so good, darling, that was beautiful. Let’s get you all cleaned up, okay?” He nodded, and she lifted him into her arms and headed off towards the showers.