"Good thing I didn’t try to suck your dick or something. Would’ve been even more embarrassing," Kagami drawls. They roll their hips against Tadashi’s to remind him of the heat lingering between them. It faded with the distraction of the call, but Kagami can revive it as surely as someone lowering a torch to a stack of kindling. Worse, they know that.

"I’d string you up by one ankle, you monster. Like a rabbit in a snare trap," Tadashi mutters. Hoping to either sober up completely or return to the sweet clutches of sake, he drags his hands down his face. His head is spinning.

"Sooo mean to the guy who just offered to give you head." They swoop in and kiss him on the mouth, then trail their mouth to his ear, where they whisper with liquid softness: "Guess I have to punish you."

Tadashi blinks at the ceiling and tries, for his dignity’s sake, to suppress the whine rising in his throat. "I-I don’t see why."

"Me saying it isn’t enough?" Their words are matched by the creep of their hands back to his chest. They toy knowingly with the hard nubs tenting the fabric of his shirt.

"I... ngh!" Thanks to his weakness, the whine slips out. He turns his face to the side to avoid their smirk. "I suppose it is."

"Atta boy. Forget the call, all right? You did great." They ruffle his hair to mark the affirmation.

He closes his eyes and drinks in the feeling of it, the ways the short sleek strands rustle between their fingers. Among his father and his siblings—the only members of his species he’s ever met—he’s by far the best at camouflage. They wear human forms when they’re in public and want to avoid attention; he rarely drops his. He wonders if they’ve ever felt this strange paradox of intimacy forged through illusion.

He’s too bashful to ever ask. His cheeks burn again just thinking about it.

"Let’s go to bed," Kagami says with sudden firmness. Either they noticed the hiccup in his mood, or they predicted it and moved to head it off at the pass. He nods gratefully.

"Am I still getting punished?" he asks softly as he picks his way to the dark bedroom, afraid he might stumble in this unfamiliar place.

They are not behind him to answer, he realizes after a moment. He hears the faint sound of them rummaging through their luggage. Which answers his question, really.

Settling himself on the bed, he peers up at the ceiling as if searching for something—but finds only uninteresting darkness. Then he remembers he should take his clothes off. He curses himself for acting like a bumbling virgin and sits up to yank his shirt off. He’s rushing and forgets his own strength. The unbuttoned collar of his shirt catches his glasses, and as he tosses the shirt away, they fly off too. They clatter without ceremony to the floor somewhere.

Fantastic. Now he’s going to have to grope around with his tentacles, otherwise he might step on them and further humiliate himself. And he didn’t pack a spare set.

"Ease up, Tadashi. I’ve got you."

He squints at the vague suggestion of Kagami in the low-light. Brown, like earlier, but all over now, except for a darker color between their legs. They’ve undressed. They’re ready.

Tadashi is beset by a wave of melancholy. Can’t be human but can’t relax in his real skin. Can’t flirt without choking on the words. Can’t tell his father how he really feels. Can’t even keep his stupid glasses on his face. His own ineptitude suddenly seems as enormous as a mountain. Like he’ll never climb over it to find the peaceful valley on the other side.

Tadashi’s breath hitches a little. "S-sometimes I don’t know what you see in me."

"Tadashi. Babe." They sound amused. "Was that sake loaded with psychedelics or something?"

Before he can raise his head, they’re in front of him. They cup his chin in one hand, tilt it up, and push his glasses back on his nose. Their face coalesces in the dim light, revealing their kind eyes and crooked grin.

Tadashi wonders if this is the sort of clarity Cinderella felt when Prince Charming finally slid her glass slipper into place.

"We’re weird together, and you’re gorgeous," Kagami says decisively. "I even like your crazy family. It’d be a crime for us to not be together. Besides, you already married me, so no take-backs."

Tadashi purses his lips, almost stubborn to hold onto his gloom. All of what they said is true, and he knows he’s being ridiculous, but—

"Oh, don’t make that face at me." They move onto the bed with him, their warmth against his coolness, the muscles of their chest against his own. They’re scruffy where he’s smooth; it’s a good contrast.

"I..." Tadashi falters on what he wants. To apologize for his melancholic nature? To ask for comfort? To agree with their assessment?

Kagami sighs—a sound that’s both roguish and determined, rather than defeated. He can hear the unspoken Well, well, well.

"I didn’t put the strap on for nothing, did I? Hmm?" They emphasize their words with a brazen stroke up his thigh. "I know you want it."

"That’s true," he murmurs.

Kagami is bound to him, after all, and they’re together so often, so the effect has no chance to fade. Like two dancers locked in a fierce tango, their desires dip and turn in perfect sync. Kagami is just better at expressing it.

"Show me, then." They start stripping him the rest of the way, efficient and assured. The push and pull of their motions is a magic spell that gets him on his knees before he can blink. "See? That wasn’t so bad."

Tadashi frowns and grasps the stack of pillows in front of him. Maybe the alcohol has baked his contrariness in. "It was mortifying, actually."

"Liar." They’re possessive as they squeeze his ass in both hands; he shivers. "You don’t have to hide your cute side."

He tries to scoff, but it sounds more like a gasp. "Wh-what cute side?"

"The side where you melt for me? That’s not cute?"

"Kagami..."

"Tadashi."

He hears the grin in their voice. Their dick nudges against his upper thigh, the silicone a little warm from their body heat—or maybe he’s just imagining it.

When they move closer still, he feels like the tab of a puzzle piece accepting the perfectly shaped blank of another. Their cock slips between his legs and rubs along the underside of his own, a reminder that he’s been aroused again for a while now. He muffles a soft moan in the pillows. His high sex drive is... a little annoying, honestly. But Kagami never complains. And as they rock against him, the friction from the leather straps around their thighs and hips seem to whisper into his skin that they never will.

In a gesture both tender and assertive, Kagami places a palm on the middle of his back. The tips of their fingers trace one of his sensitive spots, under his shoulder blade.

They say: "Slick me up like a good boy." A command this time. No more playful requests.

There’s a point where holding onto his stubbornness is just ridiculous; Tadashi nods obediently. The floaty feeling of alcohol fades somewhat as he focuses. Humans have so little control over their soft-and-hard bodies, but if he wanted to purge the alcohol from his system, he could probably squeeze it all out in one go.

He won’t, though. Instead, he wraps his cock around Kagami’s and starts to exude a thick, lubricating slime.

It breaks the illusion, undoubtedly, but in this position they’re only looking at his back. They stroke up and down, pretending they don’t know exactly where his tentacles are folded or the shape of the just-as-prehensile appendage spiraled around their strap-on.

"I’m sure that’s plenty," they say after a moment and pull back.

He relaxes in their absence, glad they can’t see his flushed face in the dark. His heart pounds hard enough that it might give him away anyway. But Kagami knows anyway, right, they know every inch of him and every last secret longing... plus the not-so-secret ones.

"Please..."

They come back to him, spread him, line themself up. He twitches and yields, and yields, and yields. There are some advantages to his body he can’t deny, and sucking Kagami’s shaft inside with such ease is one of them.

When they settle against his backside, his throat works. Should he tell them how good it is? Can he bear it?

"You know..." Kagami begins. Tadashi tenses. "...you’re awfully good at getting punished."

"Shut up," he grunts, then he pushes back, forcing the flared, flat base of the strap against their clit. He’s satisfied when they make a gasp of their own.

But Kagami won’t let him have the upper hand for long, and soon he’s muffling much louder moans than before. His body welcomes each thrust of their cock with an obscene slurp, then another one as they draw out, and the best part is that he’s too dazed by pleasure to even care. It feels natural, right like this. Kagami gripping his hips and driving in and out. Kagami pulling at the short hairs on the nape of his neck. Kagami biting his shoulder. Kagami digging the straps of their harness into his ass, leaving an imprint. He might be a little sore later, but he’ll welcome the reminder of them. Maybe it’s perverse—maybe he’s just as shameless as his father, in his own way.

"Tadashi," Kagami groans after he doesn’t know how long, the time blending together in a soup of sensation. They shudder, the friction they’ve been building with their thrusts reaching a pinnacle. He pictures the tightening inside them, wants to lap up the liquid that must be running down their thighs. No one tastes better—he’s certain of it.

He wonders, sometimes, how this would feel if he were human. He even wonders now and then what it would be like if their body were different, much as they say they don’t mind. Would it be easier? Would it be harder? They wouldn’t be able to fuck him this long or this hard, surely, because they’d run out of stamina and go soft. And he wouldn’t be prepared to accept so much. That would be a shame...

So the way they are isn’t so bad.

Usually he’s better at containing himself, but the gratification that thought brings overwhelms him, and he releases a downright unreasonable burst of viscous, opaque liquid all over the bed.

"Oh, ah, oh, oh no," Tadashi gasps. Then he falls over on his side. "Stop laughing," he groans. When they don’t, he tiredly snaps, "It’s your fault, you know!"

Laughing still, Kagami tugs his slack body into their arms and holds him. They kiss his dripping face until their head lolls to the side and they yawn. They’re tired too.

"Wanna sleep in the pod tonight?" Kagami asks after a stretch of quiet breathing, the sweat cooling on their skin. "I’ll survive alone."

"Fair," Tadashi sighs. "I’ll need to rehydrate after that."

"We can strip the sheets in the morning."

"At least it washes out..."

"It does. You won’t miss me too much in there, will you?"

He finally cracks a smile and shakes his head. "I’m fine. You’ll be there when I wake up.

***

The pod is bigger on the inside, so there’s plenty of room for one person among the growing plants. Tadashi makes himself comfortable enough inside it, his tentacles wrapped around the stems that are thicken enough support his weight. He dangles between them like he himself is a hammock.

His father rarely talks about their home planet, and when she does she speaks with the hushed tones of a prison escapee. She describes the towering plants, the moisture dripping of of everything, the way the calls of giant predators would echo in the distance at all hours. Sleep was a precious, rare thing, stolen in moments. She was always on the move to avoid both the predators and anything else that could be seen as prey. Gathering together only drew danger. She was alone, lonely, from a young age. The drive to leave and find anywhere else ate at her for a long time. Then, under a hazy purple sky lit by two distant suns, near the edge of a river where the trees and tangling vines pulled away, she saw a crashed ship.

She would learn much later that such a ship was not allowed there, but she still sensed the need for secrecy at the time. She stowed away, and as soon as the ship stopped on a crowded station, she... got into quite a bit of trouble for getting too friendly with the station-goers. It was only thanks to her many tentacles—which she learned to stow away in a stolen interdimensional pouch, similar to this pod—that she acquired a small auto-navigating ship and a universal translators, then escaped again.

His siblings had eaten such dramatic stories up, but Tadashi had always wrinkled his brow at the number of criminal actions she took to reach Earth. She’s pardoned now, thanks to some friends in high places, but it still never sat right with him.

He can’t begrudge her for it too much, though. If he’d been born in such a place, he would never have survived, and he wouldn’t have even a drop of humanity in him.

***

Morning is glorious. A perfect blue spring sky beams in through the windows to the long balcony.

Tadashi finds Kagami standing out there when he pulls himself out of the pod. He shakes the dreams of shadows in the jungle away and joins them.

"Hey," they say, then nothing more. They lean against the railing, a cup of tea in one hand. Some of the fragrant green scent reaches his nose. He’ll have to brew some later.

"See any boats?" he asks. He mirrors their pose, but they’re only in boxers, while he’s wearing a pajama set (that’s a little damp). It makes them look much more casual.

"Yeah, one went by about half an hour ago. Fishermen, maybe." They hold their tea out to him so he can have a sip.

He takes it with murmured thanks. It’s as good as it smells.

"You sleep okay?" they ask.

"Just fine. You’re the one who woke up early enough to catch the fishermen..."

They tip their head back so they can smile up at him, some of their not-yet-tidied curls interfering with their playful gaze. "You know I never sleep right the first night of a trip. Let’s just take it easy today."

"Mm, that sounds good."

***

They have their breakfast brought to their room. Tadashi thought it might be too late to request the change, but one call on Kagami’s part assures him clear his every request would be honored. He winces at the favoritism, but it’s softened by the fact he isn’t the one on the phone.

When breakfast comes, Tadashi recognizes the man at the door. However, his name completely escapes Tadashi until Kagami pokes their head into the genkan.

"Aoki-kun!" they say, all smiles. Their arms are bundled full of the bedding Tadashi soiled last night.

Aoki also seems embarrassed after he flinches at Kagami calling his last name, but his hospitable smile reasserts itself quickly. "Good morning, honored guests! Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you."

"Oh yeah. One big thing. I mean, other than breakfast. Bring that in first, then I can give you these."

Aoki glances between Tadashi, Kagami, and the sheets in Kagami’s arms—then he blushes. "R-right away! I’m on it!"

He rushes to carry the trays from his cart to the low table in the middle of the living room. There are several of them, so he has to make a number of trips, his plastic slippers slapping against the floors as he goes.

Tadashi eyes Kagami, who is grinning.

"What?" they ask.

"You look glad to see him."

"Aren’t you? He’s such a fan."

Tadashi clears his throat and doesn’t answer, but it’s his turn to blush.

Kagami shifts the bundle in their arms so they can nudge him with their elbow. Their voice is very soft. "Why not mark him? Just a little one."

"Kagami," he mutters.

"It’s not like it’s as serious as mine."

"Kagami..."

"B-breakfast is served!" Aoki interrupts, his cheeks still a little flushed. "I hope both of you enjoy the variety of dishes. I could, ah, I could explain them to you! I have all the sources for the ingredients memorized. I don’t need the reference card as all." He puffs with pride at this last comment.

"Nah, we’re good today. But take this, will you?"

Kagami is stuffing the sheets into Aoki’s arms almost before he can react, then they put both hands on his back and push him toward Tadashi. Mark him! they mouth.

Tadashi steps out of Aoki’s path, his face indifferent. But when Aoki stumbles at the edge of the genkan, his inside slippers catching, Tadashi whips out two of his tentacles and catches Aoki. One of them supports him while the other slides under the back of his button-up shirt and presses a small black mark into his skin, like a stamp.

Aoki drops the sheets with a gasp. He reaches for his back as if he felt something sting him, but then he pauses. His eyes lose focus, if just for a moment, and his hand drops.

Tadashi pushes his glasses up. Happy? he mouths at Kagami. From the way they nod and smirk, the answer is yes.

Aoki’s fugue is brief. Before a thirty seconds pass, he jumps back into motion and scoops the sheets off the floor.

"I’m so sorry, so sorry, just a little clumsy today! Forgive me for my embarrassing conduct, I’m usually much more..."

When he meets Tadashi’s eyes this time, he falters. Swallows. Clenches his arms tight around the white sheets. His pupils are very dark. His lips seem suddenly moist, and just a touch swollen.

Tadashi turns away. "Handle it in the bathroom," he says with a wave of his hand. He refuses to deal with this before breakfast. Or today at all!

"I... O-of course, I would never... inconvenience someone so..."

Aoki’s mouth closes before he finds a way to conclude that sentence. One last flush dyes his cheeks, then he slides his shoes back on and runs out. His second rather agitated exit, Tadashi notes.

"See, that was fun!" Kagami beckons for him with one hand. "Now he’ll be all wound up for you whenever you want him."

Tadashi rolls his eyes but follows Kagami into the living room.

It’s not that he minds, per se... It’s just not his natural inclination to do something so base—so alien. But Kagami likes it. They tell him he deserves to have just as many devoted followers as his father. One husband might be enough, but devotees... Kagami would lead an army of them if they had the chance.

Perish the thought, he reflects with a shudder. A handful is enough to manage.

But he bites his tongue and eats breakfast beside them without protest. They’re bubbling with energy despite their rough night of sleep. As they both work through plates of local seafood and pickled vegetables, Kagami talks his ear off with plans for the day, one of their hands resting possessively on his thigh the whole time.