Chapter Eight
Alex
"These are definitely not real nachos," Finn says, crunching on another chip loaded with synthesized cheese, "but I'm not complaining."
We're sitting on Tevra's dock, feet in the water, watching the sun paint the ocean in shades of gold and coral. After this morning's intensity with Vel'aan and the afternoon's attempt to help with repairs, I needed this—something simple and human and uncomplicated.
"The synthesizer does pretty well with junk food," I agree, reaching for another loaded chip. "The soda's almost perfect."
"Right? I was expecting everything to taste like cardboard." Finn takes a long drink from his bottle. "Though I notice you're not exactly thriving on the local cuisine either."
"Raw kelp for breakfast gets old fast."
"Tevra keeps trying to convince me that fermented vegetable paste is a delicacy." Finn shudders. "I'm sticking with synthesizer tacos, thanks."
We sit in silence for a moment, the water lapping gently at our legs. It's been good, having another human here who gets it—the strangeness, the culture shock, the constant feeling of being slightly out of place even in paradise.
I sigh. "This afternoon, when we were working, he invited me back to his place. I had to say no."
"Why?"
"Because I would've kissed him. Or worse."
"Worse?" Finn laughs. "You mean better?"
"Not if it makes him run completely." I take another drink of soda, the bubbles sharp against my throat. "He needs time to process things. Slowly. And I need to respect that, even if waiting is killing me."
"The Nereidans are worth it, though," Finn says, his voice going softer. "Tevra's been teaching me to see their bioluminescence patterns. Did you know they have over forty distinct emotional expressions that show through their skin? It's like they're walking mood rings, but beautiful."
"Vel'aan's colors are incredible," I admit. "When he's happy, he gets these gold spirals. When he's embarrassed, there's this pale green. And when he's..." I stop, remembering the deep purple that had flooded his skin when I'd admitted I still wanted him.
"When he's what?"
"Interested. Maybe. Despite himself."
Finn nudges my shoulder. "So there's hope."
"Maybe. If I don't fuck it up by pushing too hard again."
"You won't," Finn says confidently. "You're too gone on him to risk it."
We return to eating, the synthesized cheese cooling into orange clumps that are somehow still delicious. The sun sinks lower, turning the water into liquid metal. I'm thinking about heading inside, maybe taking another cold shower, when movement in the water catches my eye.
Someone's swimming toward us, their strokes smooth and efficient—definitely Nereidan. As they get closer, my heart starts racing.
It's Vel'aan.
He surfaces near the dock, and even in the dying light, I can see he's exhausted. His usually luminous skin is dim, his dark hair plastered flat against his head. He must have been working alone all afternoon after I left.
"Vel'aan," I breathe.
"I wanted to..." He pauses, treading water, his gills fluttering nervously. "I wanted to make sure you got back safely. The heat today was intense."
He was worried about me. Worried enough to swim here after what must have been hours of brutal labor.
"I'm fine," I manage. "Just enjoying some human cuisine with Finn."
Vel'aan eyes the nachos with curiosity. "What is that?"
"Synthesized perfection," Finn says cheerfully. "Want to try some?"
Vel'aan hesitates, then pulls himself onto the dock with fluid grace. Water streams from his body, and I have to force myself not to stare at the way the sunset makes his wet skin glow.
"Here." I offer him a loaded chip. "It's called nachos. Corn chips with cheese and peppers."
He takes it carefully, examining the orange-covered triangle with scientific interest before taking a small bite. His eyes widen.
"That's... very intense."
"Good intense or bad intense?" Finn asks.
"I'm not sure." But he takes another bite, then accepts the soda I offer him. The face he makes at the first sip of carbonation makes both Finn and me laugh.
"It's bubbly," he says accusingly.
"That's the point," I explain, unable to stop smiling. He's here. He came to check on me.
"Well," Finn says, standing and stretching dramatically. "I should go see what Tevra's up to. Inside. In our room. For probably an hour. At least."
Could he be any less subtle? I'm about to tell him to stay when he's already walking away, calling back, "Enjoy the sunset!"
And then we're alone.
Vel'aan sits beside me on the dock, close enough that I can feel the cool radiating from his wet skin. He accepts another nacho, eating it with careful precision.
"You worked alone all afternoon," I say. It's not a question.
"The zhik'ra needed tending."
"I could have come back. After I cooled down."
"No." He turns to look at me, and even exhausted, his eyes are striking in the twilight. "You were right to leave. Being near you is... difficult."
"Difficult how?"
His skin shimmers with faint color—gold threading through blue. "You make me feel things I've spent ten years avoiding."
My breath catches. "Vel'aan—"
"I told myself I came to check on your wellbeing," he continues, his voice soft. "But that's not the only reason."
"No?"
"No." He shifts closer, our thighs almost touching. "I couldn't stop thinking about what you said. About still wanting me. About trying to respect my boundaries even though it's hard for you."
"It is hard," I admit. "Being near you and not touching you is..." I trail off, aware that even this conversation is pushing those careful boundaries.
"I know." His hand moves to rest on the dock between us, so close to mine I can feel the space like electricity. "Your culture doesn't separate physical and emotional intimacy the way ours does."
"Not really, no."
"Show me," he says suddenly. "Show me how humans express connection without it being... too much."
My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure he can hear it. "Are you sure?"
Instead of answering, he turns his hand palm up on the dock. An invitation.
I carefully lace our fingers together. His skin is cool and slightly textured, and when I stroke my thumb across his knuckles, his bioluminescence flares bright.
"Just this?" he asks, his voice wondering.
"This is something," I say. "May I?" I lift our joined hands.
He nods, watching with those impossible eyes as I bring his hand to my lips, pressing the gentlest kiss to his knuckles. His sharp intake of breath makes me look up.
His entire body is glowing now, patterns of gold and purple and blue cascading across his skin like aurora. "Alex..."
"Too much?"
"No." He shifts closer, our sides pressed together now. "Not enough."
I turn to face him fully, our joined hands between us. "Tell me what you want."
"I want..." He pauses, free hand coming up to hover near my face. "I want to understand this feeling. This pull toward you that defies everything I thought I knew about myself."
"It's okay to want things," I tell him softly. "It's okay to feel."
His fingers touch my cheek, feather-light, tracing the line of my jaw. I stay perfectly still, letting him explore at his own pace even though every nerve ending is screaming for more.
"Your skin is so warm," he murmurs. "And these..." His thumb brushes over my freckles. "They're everywhere."
"Summers in California," I manage, my voice rough. "Lots of sun."
His exploration continues—fingers threading into my hair, still damp from swimming. Down the side of my neck, making me shiver. Across my collar bone, exposed by the lack of a shirt.
"Vel'aan," I breathe, and his gaze snaps to mine.
"I'm going to kiss you now," he says, and it's not a question.
"Thank god," I whisper.
He leans in slowly, giving me time to pull back, to say no. As if I could. As if I haven't been thinking about this since the moment I saw him again.
Our lips meet, and it's gentle, almost hesitant. His mouth is cool against mine, careful and exploring. I let him lead, keeping my hands still even though I want to pull him closer, want to devour him.
Then he makes a small sound—surprise or pleasure or both—and I can't help myself. I deepen the kiss, showing him without words what he does to me, how much I want this, want him.
His response is immediate and overwhelming. He kisses back with sudden hunger, his body pressing against mine, and I can taste the sweetness of soda on his tongue, feel the way his breath catches when I nip gently at his lower lip.
But then I feel how his whole body is trembling, how his bioluminescence is pulsing erratically, and I know if I don't stop now, we'll end up doing exactly what he said was too fast.
I pull back with a groan, resting my forehead against his. We're both breathing hard, and in the space between us, I swear I can feel something—like electricity, like recognition, like coming home.
"Fuck," I gasp. "I'm going to need to wash Tevra's nice sheets again tonight."
He pulls back slightly, confused. "What? Why would you—"
Then his gaze drops to my lap, where my arousal is extremely obvious in the thin shorts, and his skin flushes with that pale green of embarrassment mixed with deep purple of interest.
"Oh," he says. "That's... from kissing?"
"From kissing you," I correct, trying to shift into a less obvious position. "Just from kissing you."
He stares at me with something like wonder. "Humans really do experience physical and emotional together."
"Yeah, we really do." I take a shaky breath. "Which is why I should probably jump in the water for a bit."
"Or," he says, and there's something new in his voice, something brave and decided, "you could kiss me again."
"Vel'aan, if I kiss you again, I'm going to want more."
"I know." His hand finds mine again, squeezing gently. "I'm not ready for everything. But I'm ready for something. For this."
So I kiss him again as the last of the sun disappears into the ocean, his bioluminescence the only light between us, painting us both in colors that have no human names. And in that moment, I swear I feel it—something clicking into place, a spark of connection that goes deeper than skin.
When we finally part, he looks as stunned as I feel.
"Did you—" he starts.
"Yeah," I breathe. "I felt it too."
Something is beginning between us. Something that started with a rescue ten years ago and has been waiting all this time to bloom.
"Tomorrow?" he asks, like it's a promise.
"Tomorrow," I agree.
He slips back into the water with barely a splash, but before he swims away, he turns back. In the darkness, his natural luminescence makes him look like something from a dream.
"Thank you," he says. "For the nachos. For waiting. For being patient with me."
"Thank you for coming to check on me," I reply.
He smiles—rare and precious—and disappears beneath the surface.
I sit on the dock for a long time after he's gone, my lips still tingling from his kisses, my skin still humming with that strange spark of connection.
Finn finds me there an hour later, grinning like an idiot at the stars.
"Good talk?" he asks innocently.
"Something like that."
"Your lips are swollen."
"Shut up."
He laughs, dropping down beside me. "So? Progress?"
"Progress," I confirm. "Slow, careful progress."
"The best kind," Finn says. "The Nereidans are worth the wait."
Looking out at the bioluminescent waves where Vel'aan disappeared, feeling that new spark of connection humming under my skin, I know he's right.
They're absolutely worth the wait.