Our Love Is Out Of This World
It started in the staff room at Lupine General.
Finn didn’t take many ER shifts these days—his practice at the new Andrology clinic had been booming—but when Dennie mentioned that the trauma unit was short-staffed because of a scheduling debacle and winter vacation allotments, Finn stepped up.
If spending his Thursday night in the ER meant keeping their funding and providing care for their community, then so be it.
After finishing a perfect boxed-lunch meal of lasagna, salad, and tiramisu—courtesy of his own personal master chef—he debated between Candy Crush and Animal Crossing to pass the dull evening but ended up on YouTube, bingeing Beard Meats Food.
It was a guilty pleasure, watching Adam eat his way through absurd food challenges worldwide.
This time, the competitive eater was tackling a giant heart-shaped pizza for some early Valentine’s content.
Spoilers—he demolished it in under twenty minutes, winning a free meal and a hideous T-shirt.
And just like that, Finn was inspired.
Oh, not to attempt the challenge himself—though that ramen challenge in Bangkok last year was still a missed opportunity—but to make a Valentine’s pizza for Nix.
Nix loved pizza. Despite all the new things Gideon had introduced to his diet, pizza remained a favorite.
Pepperoni, especially. Also, pineapple (to Gideon’s absolute horror), ham, chicken, asparagus, or Alfredo sauce—you name it, and Nix loved it.
So, sitting in the brightly lit staff room three days before Valentine’s Day, Finn took Beard’s triumph over that giant pizza in Las Vegas as a sign. He was going to make Nix a pizza for date night. And it was going to be romantic. And delicious. Orgasmic, even.
He spent the rest of his uneventful shift finding the perfect recipe, complete with a detailed ingredient list and vivid fantasies of Nix’s shock, awe, and sexy gratitude.
***
The first sign Finn is in way over his head comes when his third batch of dough refuses to rise.
The first two had also been failures.
The fourth attempt might have met the same fate had Gideon not taken one look at the disaster zone that was their kitchen, clocked the ingredients in ten seconds, and sighed, “Don’t over-knead it, dumbass,” before turning on his heel, water and a new hot wax candle in hand.
(He had Luca tied to his bed for an early Valentine’s celebration. No one asked questions, although Finn hopes there will be photos.)
Ten seconds later, Gideon’s voice echoes down from the balcony: “Also, you had better clean your mess, Puppy. And for all that’s holy, don’t put the toppings on top of the cheese like a heathen!”
So, thanks to Gideon’s divine intervention, the fourth batch actually works.
Using Gideon’s biggest pizza pan, Finn carefully shapes the dough into a perfect heart.
If he squints and tilts his head, it looks exactly like the pizza from the video.
Maybe. He isn’t about to volunteer the fact that he used jarred sauce or pre-cut pepperoni.
He even shredded the cheese himself—three kinds—because cheese makes the pizza.
As he slides it into the oven, a rush of excitement fills him. So this is why Gideon enjoys cooking for everyone.
Of course, it all goes perfectly—until it doesn’t.
Thirty minutes later, the oven timer dings just as Nix keys in the security code and Finn relishes the perfect timing of his perfect pie.
Pulling open the oven door, the heat in his face isn’t just from the 400-degree oven.
His perfect heart-shaped pizza has mutated into something that definitely does not resemble a heart—or anything else found in nature.
The pepperoni has shifted on the miasma of cheese, forming eerie eyes, oblong nostrils, and a sinister-looking mouth.
The sauce oozes between the meat rounds like blood.
The cheese has pooled into oddly shaped craters, covering the entire pizza—crust and all.
It looks less like romance and more like something the government would classify as top secret.
“Well, shit.”
Nix’s voice floats happily down the hall, unsuspecting of the culinary disaster that awaits him. “Finnie? Do I smell pizza? I’m starving. Lauren ate most of the popco—”
Finn squeezes his eyes shut and exhales through his nose. Embarrassment turns his palms sweaty and sets his empty stomach roiling.
When Nix rounds the corner, his hair is sticking up with static from his hat, and his nose twitches at the scent of melted cheese and spices.
Maybe if Finn wishes hard enough, the pizza would return to its former heart-shaped glory. Perhaps if the Goddess is kind, They have suddenly imbued him with the Talent to stop time.
He cracks an eye open.
Nope. Still extraterrestrial—and horrifyingly so. As if Dexter and Ellen Ripley had collaborated on a cooking show and won for Most Macabre, Space-Themed Crime Scene Pie.
Nix, pink-cheeked from the cold, unwinds his striped scarf, blinking at the pizza and then at Finn. “Oh. Wow. Uh…you made dinner? It looks…delicious.”
Sure it does. If you like your pizza looking like it belongs on CSI: Star Wars.
“It’s pizza.” Finn thinks if he tells Nix what it’s supposed to be, his mate won’t think about what it’s not: heart-shaped and appetizing.
Nix tilts his head. “Yeah, I got that. Smells amazing, but, uh…why does it look like a murdered alien?”
“It’s not an alien,” Finn mutters, scowling at the clearly alien-shaped pizza. He can’t deny that the sauce and pepperoni make it look like the poor visitor had been made over by a serial killer. “Who makes an alien for Valentine’s Day?”
Nix grins, already pulling out his phone—the camera app open, the shutter click-click-clicking. “I like it. Was this supposed to be a distress signal to the Mother Ship’s CSI unit?”
“It’s a heart. For Valentine’s Day.” Finn turns the pan this way and that, trying—praying—to find an angle that maybe resembles the symbol of love he’d intended it to be. “A culinary symbol of love.”
Nix hums the Star Wars theme as he snaps more and more photos. There’s even a whoosh as he attaches one to a text. The phone in Finn’s pocket tells him it was sent to the pack’s group chat.
“Nix.” Finn isn’t proud that it sounds like a whine. “Please delete those.”
“No way. This is evidence, Finnie. Chain of custody and everything. The forensics team will want samples for testing.”
“Nix—”
“I mean, for real. NASA should really know about this discovery. Wait—this might actually be Area 51 worthy…”
Finn groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “It’s not that bad.” He opens the utensil drawer and, after some unnecessarily aggressive (it was totally necessary) rummaging, brandishes the pizza cutter.
Using the sharp blade is remarkably cathartic as the alien-esque face is reduced to several misshapen slices of cheese-laden dough. It looks less like a crime after it’s been disassembled than when it was whole.
Nix wastes no time grabbing a slice and inspecting it. Taking a huge bite, he hums and, with full cheeks, says, “Finnie! This is really good. Mmm.” He winks, licking sauce off his fingers. “You nailed the cheese blend, and the crust is perfect. So chewy.”
The sight short-circuits Finn’s nervous system, and for a moment he forgets to be embarrassed about his pepperoni-scented culinary failure.
He did? It is?
Taking his own bite, Finn chews thoughtfully—hot, cheesy goodness combined with the right ratio of pepperoni and sauce on a surprisingly good crust. “Not too bad.”
Nix grins. “This pizza is like the universe—chaotic, mysterious, but ultimately beautiful.”
Like you, Finn thinks as he tries not to focus on the tiny dot of sauce on his mate’s perfect nose or his satisfied food noises that sound a lot like other ones Finn likes to hear coming out of his omega’s mouth.
Regardless, he still manages to roll his eyes. “You’re spending too much time with Luca.”
“No such thing.” Nix flips an oddly shaped slice upside down, as if daring the toppings to ooze off in a final humiliating ode to Finn’s cooking debacle. “Look! It even defies the laws of physics.”
Finn snorts. “Love and pizza both transcend space and time.” He means for it to sound like a joke, but it comes out more like the declaration of devotion it truly is.
“Yeah, they do. All jokes aside, thanks for making this. It’s delicious.” Nix leans in, brushing flour (or sauce?) from Finn’s cheek. “And besides, one thing’s for sure.”
“What’s that?”
“Our love is out of this world.” The little gremlin grins, proud of his witty (and it is) pun-tastic pun. Seriously, way too much time with Luca.
Sighing, Finn bangs his head on the counter. “I thought we were putting all jokes aside?” He sighs. “You’re never letting me live this down, are you?”
Nix shakes his head and dusts his hands off over the sink. “Not like you let that alien live. So…no, not in this universe, sexy.” Checking his invisible make-believe watch, he says, “But hey, will you look at the time?”
It is barely 7:00 PM. Finn had expected a movie for their date night (he’d planned on a rewatch of Spaceballs) and is therefore surprised when Nix suddenly steals the pizza crust from his hand and sets it aside.
He grabs Finn by the belt loops and drags him toward the stairs.
Finn likes to think he’s no fool—but he still says, “Oh? I thought we were watching a movie?”
Nix wiggles his phone in front of his face, smirking. “Oh, we are.”
Realization hits—Nix has queued up one of Finn’s favorite kinds of homemade movies.
“Oh,” he breathes, lifting Nix easily with his hands under his butt and carrying him upstairs.
“Yeah, but this time, we’re the stars.”