It hadn’t been my fault that I’d naturally just made a net-shaped creation. It was the last thing I’d worked on, after all. My brain was tired. Two weeks ago, I didn’t know aliens were friendly, after all. They were lucky they didn’t all get cute crocheted dicks.Here, fishy, this is a Jacob’s ladder.

He’d been shocked by how much I’d made already. Obviouslyhe’dnever sat through the onboarding protocol. I’d forgotten ninety-five percent of it and the remaining information was mostly useless factoids entirely removed from any beneficial context, but by hell I’d made a badass net.

And at some point, I’d figured out where I was supposed to be, too.

While he was swimming out to secure it over the ocean trench thing, or whatever it was called on this planet, I stayed in the peace of the underwater lab, listening to the quiet sounds of the fish in the tanks and a few of the potions dripping through beakers and vials as he distilled something that probably was really important for the fish’s scale strength or some shit.

I did wonder what itreallywas for.

When my ass went to sleep, I explored, and the cool retractable crutches made snooping around much more satisfying. I wished I could read the glyphs he’d stored in the little holographic notepad things, or decipher the reasoning behind the seemingly healthy fish in some of the tanks. It would come with time.

I could get used to the musical sound of falling water. I turned, following the noise, and found him boosting himself into the lab, seawater running from his beautiful lilac skin.

Whatever their bullshit “Calling” science said, he didn’t make me less agitated and I didn’t believe for a second their bioresonance crap had anything to do with my ADHD, but hewashot. And I did really like chilling out with him.

He looked at me as if relieved to find me still present, and I felt a small, answering twinge in the vicinity of my heart.

“We should return,” he said. “You require a meal.”

I made my way over to him. The sea behind him was dark, but something large and pale swam past. A chill went up my spine, but he looked over to me as if inviting me to admire something particularly special.

“That won’t eat us?” I asked him.

His eyes crinkled but he didn’t smile. “No. They won’t eat us.”

Cool. So, a whale-like creature, then. I paused beside him to collapse the crutches and tuck them away. One day, I wouldn’t need them. Meanwhile, at least their painkillers were amazing.

“The net you made was high standard,” he said, his expression earnest.

I wondered if maybehe’dlike a crocheted little dick. Or a beanie done to look like a boob, with a nipple on top. “It was pretty good,” I agreed. “Was it the right size?”

“It fit precisely,” he said. “Just like you do.”

I knew instantly he wasn’t talking about me sitting around in his lab, and it surprised me that the sentiment made my belly twist pleasantly. He was right: I kind ofdidfit. I didn’t need to talk to anyone except him, here, didn’t need to do much except swim and weave and look at fish. I’d never thought it was possible, so I’d never dreamed it. Now I was here…

I couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.

“Science, right?” I asked, unsure if I was amused or irritated.

He offered me one bundle of tentacles at the end of his arm, and I put my hand into the mass without hesitation. The sensation of being firmly held was comforting.

“You have currency?” he asked me. “And autonomy?”

Something low in my belly twisted. “Isn’t that all standard-issue?” He’d told me it was, before.

“You are choosing to be present,” he said, and I felt the suckers tugging pleasantly on my skin, like a million tiny kisses. I hadn’t known I’d wanted that, especially not on my forearm. The sensation was so distracting I barely mustered up a nod for him, lowering myself to sit on the stony edge of the water. He still held my hand. Given how dark and huge the sea was beyond us, I didn’t mind that.

He lowered himself with me, slipping in ahead of me as he always did. But he was too close for me to climb into the water alongside him, gazing up at me with a hungry expression that didn’t require a shared language to be clearly understood.

Heat unfurled slowly in my limbs as he settled his torso between my knees, gazing up at me. “I do not know your social norms to ascertain your wishes,” he said. “I would enjoy intimate contact with you.”

A wash of nerves went through me, unexpectedly disorienting. Agreement was on the tip of my tongue.You sure would, buddy.My body hummed, and I remembered how I’d kissed him, how he’d wrapped himself in me and carried me like the most precious thing he’d ever touched.

“Same,” I said, holding onto the shit-stirring for later, when I knew more of his language, or he knew more of mine, and we could spar on even footing. Because there would be a later. “How do we do this?”

His tentacles unwrapped from my hand and went to the centre of my chest. I let him lay me back across the cold stone, my broken leg floating beside him, painless and safely wrapped. The other he settled over his shoulder.

Surprise, and amusement, ran through me, lightning fast. I resisted the urge to prop up on my elbow and ask if we could kiss or something first. When I felt his cheek rub against my inner thigh and the touch of his suckers across my belly I was glad I had. The new, made-to-purpose clothing I wore was peeled off slowly. The air was cool where it was removed, his touch warm. I closed my eyes and felt him exploring the curve of my belly, the dip in my waist and the sides of my breasts. The world could’ve vanished, right then, and I wouldn’t have known it. There must have been a million points of contact—each tentacle had dozens of suckers, and each sucker was warm and firm against my skin, the sensations all clamouring for my attention.