by S M Matthews
“I’m sorry?”
He smiles; “I asked if you’d like anything to drink?” It’s just so...normal…and mundane. I’m getting a haircut in space and they want to know if I’d like the equivalent of a nice cup of tea.
I’d actually love a drink but I’m so nervous and flustered I knee jerk a “No thank you, I’m fine.”
He nods and covers me with a thing to keep the hair off, same as at home. And then he ruffles the back of my head and says… “So, what are we doing today?”
My mouth is actually hanging open. How is this exactly the same. On the other side of the universe. He’s running his claws through my hair to get a feel for it and my brain is utterly stalled.
What was I expecting? A robot haircut? For lasers to be involved? What?
“Can you just sort of...tidy it up please?” It comes out really lamely.
He pretty much leaves me alone after that. He examines my ragged and broken ends and takes it upon himself to take a good couple of inches off.
After a few minutes of him working I realise...this is his job. He’s just doing his thing. He might even cut the hair of other aliens. Granted the only other customers in here at the moment are the bright white females who all seem to be having the exact same straight across the bottom trim. But...he’s not batted an eyelid at me. He might see other aliens through here regularly. They might be around regularly and I just…might not have noticed. I haven't exactly been paying that much attention.
One of the females is having her hair elaborately plaited after her cut. There looks like there might be glitter. I have a small girlish flutter at the thought of glitter.
Feeling a little better I say, “Actually, could it be more sort of up here,” and I indicate the top of my shoulder. He nods away and keeps snipping. Stopping occasionally the way hairdressers do to make sure each side is even and to ask if I'm happy.
I am actually. Very, at the moment. I guess this feels like a little bit of pampering.
It makes all the difference sometimes.
I find I have a smile on my face when I go back to Micka and I realise I want him to like it.
I actually do, to some extent at least, care what he thinks.
He smiles at me, “You look lovely,” he says, as he goes and pays. It makes me feel a little sheepish, and I hope I’m not blushing.
“How could he understand me?”
“When a new language is available, the station automatically updates every registered translator.”
Wow. That’s actually mindbogglingly amazing. And the way he answered was so offhand...like if we were on earth and I’d say: ‘and my coffee machine can make a latte!’
We leave and he offers his hand again, I don’t hesitate this time. We’re heading...home. I guess I really should start calling it that. It’s what it is. At least for the foreseeable future...I assume. Now that I’ve started facing the reality of this, I realise I haven't been thinking about any of this practically at all. I haven't been worrying about any of the things I probably should have been. I’ve been, I imagine, pretty appalling to live with and…they could have just kicked me out at any time. They haven't. Yet.
“What are you thinking about now?” Micka asks me. Okay well, he’s picking up on something but he’s definitely not a mind reader.
“I was just wondering...what’s going to happen to me?”
He frowns, “In what sense?”
“Uhm...well...will I have to move out? I need to get a job that pays? I haven't really been thinking about...trying to have a life.”
“You can stay with us for...as long as you want to.” Micka’s reply is very carefully put; there being a thoughtful pause in the middle. He’s frowning, thinking. “And you could do some basic training in hydroponics and then earn a training wage. For now. If you’d like that.”
I nod enthusiastically.
We arrive back and I find I’m sad about having to stop touching him. He potters about the apartment as I sit at the island, and he makes us both a drink. I take it from him and we both smile. The mood having seemingly changed again. We have all sort of fallen into the easy conversations of people who spend a lot of time together and yet this feels...different. I feel like the air in the room is charged. And I don’t know if it’s just me or if he feels it to. Am I imagining my own butterflies? It’s making me feel self-conscious and awkward too.
I try to dismiss it, at least a little. I take a deep breath. This is silly, I live with them.
He’s rinsing his cup so I go over to do the same. I always get caught up in how mundane these little tasks are considering...well...where I am. And that, you know... aliens.
Micka doesn’t move away but waits to hand me the towel to dry up and; I feel shy all over again but...they’ve been so nice. I hug him on impulse, and he doesn’t hesitate and envelopes me in his arms. “I’m sorry I’ve been rubbish,” I tell him. “And thank you, I don’t have any excuses for how I’ve been. Especially considering everything you’ve all done for me.”
He doesn’t try to brush it away or refute me, he doesn’t try to make excuses for me the way Maisy did. He’s rubbing small circles at the small of my back and nods. “You’ve realised that now though; we were never going to just give up. Even when you were being...resistive, you are worth it.”
Oh. That’s so...well. What can I even say to that without ruining the moment? We stand together, the only noise the gentle swishing as his tails rub on the backs of his trousers. He’s rubbing small circles on my back, and I find myself returning long strokes along his spine. We stand like that for ages, and I find a tension I didn’t really know I was carrying leaves me. I don’t know if Micka feels the same, but he seems as reluctant to move as I am.
We stand there for so long Titus comes home, he doesn’t say anything, just moves around as he would normally. I turn my head against Micka’s chest to peek at him. He sees me looking and grins at us.
I’m spending the evening with Titus, which means after dinner we get to have Secret Dessert Club and now a horror ‘Vid’. I have discovered that although everything looks totally real and it should be scary, the alien concept of horror is the same and yet totally different. They still have power cuts, and still split up for totally stupid reasons, there’s always ridiculously suspenseful music, but there’s almost never any gore. Just monsters with apparent superpowers who always have a good reason. Like…‘She was protecting her babies all along!’ Or ‘It was just hungry, that’s all!’. And honestly, because I’m already in space, I now don’t know what’s real or what isn’t. Some of this is real to them; and some of it is made up by them and I have no frame of reference. Is that a made-up alien? Or just a species I’ve never seen before? Can they really suck the life out of actual stars? I just let it wash over me unless something makes me really curious. The last time was ‘Can you actually make little wormholes to travel through?’ No, was the answer, no they cannot.
Titus likes to make a running commentary, and he has a wonderfully sarcastic sense of humour sometimes.
He also likes to cheer for the monster.
We settle down with snacks – of course there are snacks – and he gives me a blanket as he dims the lights. For the first time...I’m a little nervous, this sort of feels like a date night.
It’s never really felt like this before, and I find myself less interested in the movie and more with the flurry of butterflies I have in my stomach. My mind drifts back to what Maisy said. She seemed so certain that they were interested in me.
What if tonight he actually shows an interest in me? I mean, one day we might...you know. And they are aliens...and they have two...thingies, Maisy said. Titus lays out on his back on the sofa, knees bent, little (compared to the rest of him) foot paws resting flat on the sofa next to my thigh.
His head is on the arm of the sofa and his eyes are at half lidded. I haven't really been listening, but now I think he’s been quieter than usual this evening. He looks tired. He yawns hugely, and it alway
s conjurers the same image of a big cat on a nature documentary.
His tails flick into my lap and I find I don’t mind at all. I start combing through the tufts with my fingers. They are moving languidly in my lap, I brush away with my fingertips, but should I try to hold one trapped in my hand it flicks powerfully away before coming back again. He stretches and yawns again, seemingly oblivious. The stretch lifts his top a little, and that bright white tummy fur draws my eye and makes my fingers itch to touch it.
The brief thought is hotly followed by the one which always nags at me; what if they don’t even want me. What if it ruins everything. Or even, what if they do...and I don’t know what I’m doing. Can you be bad at sex? Is that a thing? Am I being childish? Probably. I mean...aliens. On the upside I have no expectations because I have nothing to compare it to but my own self-appreciation sessions…
There’s a nudging at my thigh, it’s Titus’s foot, “You alright?”
I nod.
“Right. Because honestly your emotional turmoil is the most fun ever.” He says it totally deadpan.
I snort. “Oh, get some nose plugs. I just...have a lot to think about.”
He chuffs and yawns again, bringing both arms up to rest behind his head. My eyes go straight to the visible triangle of bright white tummy fur. I am suddenly very aware of his tail tips in my hands, and rather than just playing with the long tufts on the end, I stroke along from a little higher. The fur is very short, and feels like dense velvet. It’s very dark grey here, almost solid, the same as his ear tips and his hands and feet. It becomes more and more of a broken pattern the nearer you get to their body. And as I’ve seen, some parts are bright white.
I make a couple of long strokes; I’m brave enough to reach a little off my lap to between his feet. It’s far enough along that I can only just make my fingers meet around the girth of his tail. I look along the length of his tails, to where they emerge from under his butt. He’s wearing the very loose-fitting trousers they have all started to favour when at home, and I can’t miss the outline of his erection. It’s big, but it actually being one resting on top of the other would account for just how startling it is. It’s pressing up against the waistband of his trousers I notice, and then realise I’m full on staring. I drag my eyes away, looking up, and he’s studying me through his slitted eyes. “Definitely going to pass on the nose plugs; I wouldn’t have wanted to have missed that.”
He’s been watching me looking. He’s been smelling me as I’ve been looking. Ohmygod. I force my eyes straight back to the tails in my lap, absolutely mortified. I can feel the heat in my face and it just serves to make me even more embarrassed. I mean I knew they knew, like, in theory, I knew they knew. But that’s really different to having one of them openly call me out.
It’s like a bucket of ice water on my raging lady boner at least.
I don’t know where to look. I want the floor to open up and swallow me.
“Hey,” he’s nudged me with his foot again, “I’m sorry, please don’t get stressed about it. It’s fine, honestly. I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m in the wrong.”
I nod and let out a breath, “Okay. I just...I got embarrassed.” I don’t want to tell him not to do it again or anything like that, he might take me at my word. I just don’t know what to do about it. I think I want it; I just know I’m not sure, or confident...or...or anything really.
I look over to Titus, the front of his pants much flatter again. He’s not looking at me any more though; he’s looking over at the picture of his mate.
Oh.
I don’t know how I feel about that. I do know I don’t like it. It makes me feel sorry for them and envious of her all at once. It makes me feel angry that she’s managing to interfere even though she’s dead. That’s a small, horrible, spiteful little thought and it makes me so angry with myself. Then I’m angry at myself for not being able to handle it.
“Poppy?” He’s turned his attention back to me.
“Nose plugs!” I shout at him as I get up and stomp off to my room. Not for the first time I am struck with angry frustration that I can’t slam my bedroom door for effect.
None of this is even their fault! They can’t help that they were in love! Or that she died. I don’t even know what happened, but they had a kid! Surely I should be nothing but sympathetic about the whole thing? Shouldn’t I? Of course I should!
I’m pacing angrily in my room.
I’m angry at myself. Angry that she was perfect, and they lost her, and now I feel like a shitty consolation prize. Angry that my confidence is so lacking. Unbearably frustrated that I just don’t know what to do. I feel second best to someone that I can never hope to even compare to. And who isn’t even here.
I throw myself onto the bed, and hug a pillow to cry into.
TITUS
I scrub at my face. That went...badly.
All I know for sure about Poppy is she hasn’t got a clue what she wants.
Being in the same room as her is like being on an out of control dinghy on the roughest sea during the roughest storm of the year. I almost miss the sadness, although hard to live with, it had consistency in its favour. Her hormones are erratic, her moods even more so. Sitting within clear smelling range whilst she’s internalising...what? She’s alternately embarrassed, aroused, scared, more aroused, worried about something that then turns to sadness. Then anger.
I’d looked to Kita, but there’s no help there. I snort to myself.
I wish Acer was here, he’s good at this sort of thing but...I can’t just leave it alone if I’ve upset her.
I give her a little while and then go over to her room, the door slides open and she looks at me. And then sighs.
“Whatever it was I did, I didn’t mean it.” I momentarily think of Kita again, I’ve been here before. Apologising to a female even though I’m not exactly sure what it is I’m sorry for.
“It’s okay. I got angry over something that’s not...probably not even really anything.”
I pad across to her and slide onto the bed behind her, I push my luck even further and creep forward until I’m lying pretty close to her. I start the gentle purring that seemed to work on Kita. It isn’t long before Poppy is smelling a lot calmer. I want to know what that was all about but...it feels wrong to bring it up again now.
Either that or I’m just not brave enough.
POPPY
I think about protesting, but he simply settles at my back. We’re both still clothed and on top of the covers, and he moves to be as close as he can without actually toughing me and then...starts to purr. Just like a house cat but...massive. Oh.
I close my eyes, trying to relax. I am tired, and the purring is soothing. It doesn’t take long before I can feel myself starting to nod off. I’m just on the cusp of falling asleep when I jerk awake again.
I roll over so I can see him in the dim light, “I want to get into bed...and I don’t usually wear my uniform.”
He yawns, and stretches right out, his teeth are huge with his mouth open like that, even his claws seem to extend further. Titus gets up and pads out, he brings me back a few over large tunics and leaves again. I change into one and get into bed, wondering if he’s going to come back at all. He eventually does, he’s now only wearing the low slung, loose fitting trousers. His bright white stomach fur draws my eyes...but they look lower seemingly of their own accord. I snap my eyes shut so I’m not staring. He climbs on top of the covers and snuggles me over the top of them. The purring starts up again. It’s pretty clear he’s just here to sleep and…I’m okay with that. Whatever just happened was all me getting worked up over...well, things no one can control. They can’t change who they are and what they’ve been through any more than I can. And they’ve been doing their best to accommodate me. I keep telling myself I need to do better, but saying it and doing at are turning out to be two very different things.
POPPY
Them taking turns to keep me company at night has suddenly become the
norm. They haven't made it weird. If anything, we’re much more relaxed, and a casual hug comes really easily now but...actually going to bed initially felt like a huge scandalous step.
How do I just ‘get over’ the fact that they are giant cat men? How do you even possibly start to ignore the fact that they are so alien?
Once it had happened with Titus, they just sort of started inviting themselves to...well…to take turns. As odd as that sounds. There didn’t seem to be any of the issues that I would have thought would come with something like this. It was like once it had happened with one, it was just automatically acceptable for all of them to do it.
They didn’t seem to discuss it, didn’t seem to talk about it.
No one seemed to be treating each other any differently. If anything they all just seemed to be content. Even a little happier. It just sort of compounds the idea that this is complete normality to them.
The only change was that they now took it in turns to follow me to bed. I still have no idea how their work and rest shift pattern worked, but it seems that they make it work. I contemplate asking why they never seem to have any time when they are all together. If they even have days off. Come to think of it, I haven't had a day off. I mean I even went to medical out of shift hours to get my translator fitted. That was a highly painful by mercifully short appointment. I’d been terrified of the needle, but without even asking Titus had taken both of my hands; I’m sure I’d squeezed his really tightly, but he hadn’t said anything. Being able to turn off the Monotone Lady has been amazing.
Every night without fail they ask if I’d like a night alone. There’s no pressure, never at any point have I felt any pressure. In fact they ask the question in the same way you’d ask ‘Do you have sugar?’ if you were making someone a cup of tea. Like the answer has no bearing on them whatsoever.
