Page 21

Kav'eth

Derek is sprawled across my sleeping area in a pair of my loose sleeping pants, looking completely at ease in a way that makes something warm settle in my chest. The pants are too long for him, the excess fabric pooled around his ankles, but he seems unconcerned with the impractical fit.

His hair is still damp from our time in the pool, and there's a relaxed contentment in his posture that I have not observed before.

I find myself wanting to maintain this peaceful atmosphere, to extend this moment of domestic tranquility before reality reasserts itself.

"I want to prepare something for you," I tell him, moving toward the food preparation area. "Something from my world."

Derek props himself up on his elbows, watching me with interest. "Is this your version of breakfast in bed?"

"I am unfamiliar with that custom, but if it involves providing nutrition while you remain comfortable, then perhaps."

His grin makes my bioluminescence pulse with satisfaction. "I like this side of you. Very attentive."

I access the synthesizer, calling up a recipe that has been a personal favorite since childhood.

Vel'thara ; a chilled dessert that combines the sweet fruit of our coastal regions with ground keth nuts and a custard base made from thysa cream.

It is traditionally prepared for young Nereidans as comfort food during times of stress or illness, one of the few foods in our culture that serves an emotional rather than purely nutritional purpose.

"What are you making?" Derek asks, settling back against the pillows to watch me work.

"A dessert from my homeworld. It is... comfort food, I believe you would call it." I pause in my preparation, feeling slightly embarrassed by the admission. "Though I should mention it is typically given to children. Adult Nereidans rarely consume food purely for pleasure."

Derek's expression softens with something that might be affection. "You're making me kid food?"

"The nutritional profile remains appropriate for adult consumption," I say quickly, concerned he might find the gesture patronizing.

"Hey." Derek's voice is gentle. "I think it's sweet. You're taking care of me with something that comforts you."

The understanding in his tone makes my chest feel tight with emotion I have no proper diplomatic framework for processing. "I... yes. That is accurate."

"Though I should warn you, it contains sweetening agents," I continue, focusing on the preparation to avoid dwelling on these unfamiliar feelings. "Your species seems to have varying tolerances for such additives."

"I'm not really a sweets guy," Derek admits. "But I'll try anything once."

The synthesizer produces the individual components with typical efficiency, but the actual preparation requires manual assembly. I layer the custard base with the fruit compote, add the ground nuts for texture, then adjust the environmental controls to chill the mixture properly.

"It will require several minutes to reach optimal temperature," I explain, settling beside Derek on the sleeping area. "The cold enhances the flavor profile significantly."

Derek shifts to make room for me, and I find myself pulled against his side with casual familiarity that should feel presumptuous but instead feels perfectly natural.

His skin is warm against mine, and through our empathic bond I can sense his contentment, his satisfaction with this simple domestic moment.

The way he curls into my side, completely trusting and relaxed, makes something primitive and protective stir in my chest. I have never experienced the desire to care for another being in such a fundamental way, and the intensity of it is both thrilling and terrifying.

"Tell me about your home," Derek says, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my arm. "What's it like where you're from?"

"Nereidan is a water world," I begin, allowing myself to relax into his touch.

"Our cities exist both above and below the ocean surface; floating platforms that rise and fall with the seasonal tides, and underwater settlements built into the seafloor itself.

The architecture is designed to work with the ocean rather than against it. "

"That sounds incredible. Very different from Chicago."

"I imagine so. Our society prioritizes harmony with natural systems over individual convenience." I pause, considering how to explain concepts that have no human equivalent. "We do not fight our environment. We adapt to it."

Derek's fingers continue their gentle exploration, and I find myself leaning into the touch, craving more contact. When he shifts slightly, I pull him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

"Like this whole compatibility program thing?" he asks, tilting his head to look at me.

The question carries weight that I am not prepared to address directly. "In a manner of speaking, yes."

Derek studies my face for a moment, then leans up to kiss me properly. It's soft and unhurried, tasting of minerals from the pool and something uniquely him. When we break apart, he settles back against my chest with a satisfied sigh.

"What do you do there?" he continues the conversation as if the kiss was simply a natural part of our discussion. "Besides diplomatic stuff, I mean. What's your life like?"

"I maintain a residence in the capital platform, near the Council chambers. My duties require frequent travel between colony worlds, conducting negotiations and cultural assessments." I realize how sterile this sounds even as I say it. "It is... structured. Predictable."

"Sounds lonely."

The observation hits closer to truth than I am comfortable acknowledging. "Nereidans do not typically experience loneliness in the human sense. We are socialized to find fulfillment in service to our people."

"But do you? Find fulfillment in it?"

I consider this carefully, my fingers combing through Derek's hair as I think.

Three days ago, I would have answered without hesitation that my work provided complete satisfaction.

Now, with Derek's warm presence beside me and the memory of genuine connection still fresh in my mind, I am less certain.

"I did," I say finally. "Until recently."

Derek turns in my arms, propping himself up so he can see my face clearly. "And now?"

"Now I am discovering that there may be forms of fulfillment I had not previously considered." I lean down to kiss him again, deeper this time, pouring the emotions I cannot adequately express into the contact.

The food preparation unit signals completion, and I reluctantly break away to retrieve the vel'thara , now properly chilled and ready for consumption.

The presentation is not as elegant as what I could achieve in my home kitchen, but the aroma is correct; sweet fruit balanced with nutty undertones and the rich creaminess of thysa .

"This looks amazing," Derek says as I hand him a portion. "Very fancy."

I watch nervously as he takes his first taste, uncertain how his human palate will respond to flavors that have no Earth equivalent. His expression shifts from cautious curiosity to genuine surprise.

"Holy shit, this is really good," he says, taking another spoonful. "I normally hate sweets, but this is... it's barely sweet at all. More like... fruity and creamy with a nutty crunch."

Relief floods through me at his approval. "The sweetening agent is derived from fruit reduction rather than processed sugars. It provides enhancement without overwhelming the primary flavors."

"It's perfect." Derek settles more comfortably against me, continuing to eat with obvious enjoyment. "I could definitely get used to this."

The casual comment sends an unexpected jolt through our empathic connection, and I realize we have approached territory that I am not prepared to navigate. But Derek seems oblivious to my sudden tension, focused on the dessert and the comfortable intimacy of the moment.

"You know what this reminds me of?" he says thoughtfully. "My mom used to make this pudding when I was sick. Nothing fancy, just vanilla pudding with crushed cookies mixed in. But it always made me feel better."

"Your mother provided comfort food during illness?"

"Yeah, it's pretty common. Chicken soup, ice cream, whatever made you feel loved when you felt like crap." Derek grins at me. "This has the same vibe. Like someone cares enough to make you something special."

The insight into human nurturing customs is fascinating, but more importantly, the way Derek describes feeling cared for makes my chest warm with satisfaction. I am providing him with comfort, with care, in a way that transcends mere nutrition.

"I am glad it achieves the desired effect," I say, pressing another kiss to his hair.

We eat in comfortable silence for a while, Derek curled against my side like he belongs there. The simple domesticity of the moment—sharing food I prepared, casual touches, quiet conversation—feels more significant than any diplomatic victory I have ever achieved.

"Kav'eth," Derek says eventually, his voice soft.

"Yes?"

"This is nice. Just... being together like this. I don't think I've ever had this before."

"What do you mean?"

"This kind of... I don't know. Peace, I guess. Like I don't need to be doing anything or achieving anything. I can just exist with you and that's enough."

The vulnerability in his admission makes something twist in my chest. Through our empathic bond, I can feel the truth of his words, the genuine contentment he finds in simply being present with me.

"I experience the same sensation," I admit. "It is... unfamiliar, but not unwelcome."

Derek sets aside his bowl and shifts so he can look at me directly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Always."

"Are you happy? Like, genuinely happy, not just satisfied or fulfilled or whatever diplomatic term you'd usually use."