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Before they made it to the front door, Gem pulled him to a stop one last time. “All joking aside, if you get overwhelmed or over-stimmied and want to leave, just tell me, and we’ll leave.”

“Okay.” Rusty said, and Gem exhaled in a rush .

“Okay. Let’s do this!” He leaned down and brushed a brief kiss to Rusty’s mouth. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Warmth bloomed in Rusty’s chest, but before he could respond or kiss Gem back, the front door burst open, startling them both. “Oh, Gemae, there you are,” an incredibly tall, dark-skinned Araknis woman said, extending her six arms as Gem released Rusty’s hand and stepped into her embrace.

“Hi, Maman.”

A flood of smaller Araknis poured from the door on either side of Gem’s mother, and Rusty hugged his tail to his chest when he caught sight of one—a young pre-teen with emo hair hanging over half his face—flicking a lighter absently. The pyromaniac, Mylo, Rusty assumed.

“Who are you?” one demanded, poking Rusty’s arm as another grabbed Rusty’s hand, exclaiming, “Whoa, you gotta wicked sharp claws. Can I borrow them sometime?”

“Uh, no,” Rusty said, unsure how anyone could borrow his claws to begin with.

“What are you doing here?” a small girl asked.

“Are you Gem’s boyfriend?” another asked.

“Lookit,” one shrieked as they pushed up the hem of his jeans to reveal his ankles. “He’s fluffy everywhere!”

“Can I pet his tail?” another cried, and Rusty found himself backing away from the gaggle of Araknis children closing in on him.

“Um, Gem?” he called as his back met porch railing.

“Is this how we treat guests?” a soft voice said, and the children turned toward a short Araknis man with light gray skin and even lighter swirls of colors on his arms. His eyes were dark, like Gem’s, and somewhat hidden behind bifocal glasses. “If you all can’t be polite, then be gone with you. ”

The children scattered as the man approached Rusty with a warm, apologetic smile. “Forgive them. They’re easily excitable. You must be Rusty.”

“Um, yeah. I mean, hi. I’m Rusty.” He offered a hand, and the man took it in two of his, shaking it exuberantly. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Akyllo.”

“Oh, just call me Hyl. Or Dad. That’s what everyone else calls me. Mr. Akyllo was my father,” he said, face screwing up with humor as he trilled a genuine laugh.

“Ew, Dadi,” Gem said, appearing at his side. “We’ve talked about the dad jokes. They’re embarrassing.”

“They’re funny. Rusty thought so,” Gem’s father said with a blinding smile at Rusty.

Not wanting to disappoint the kind man, Rusty nodded. “Yeah, it was funny.”

“Traitor,” Gem hissed at him before he leaned down and pecked his father’s cheek. “Thank you for saving Rusty from the feral children.”

“They’re not feral,” Hyl chided, still holding Rusty’s hand in his weathered ones. “But the poor boy did look in need of rescue.”

“Yeah, because they’re feral,” Gem said, taking Rusty’s other hand and leading him toward the door where the tall Araknis woman waited.

Hyl walked with them, hand patting the back of Rusty’s paw.

“Welcome to our home, son. I insist you help yourself to anything you might need. If you can’t find something, just ask.

Any friend of Gem’s is family to us.” He winked one tiny eye at Rusty as he simpered.

“Any special friend of Gem’s, I should say. ”

“Oh my gods, Dadi, stop!” Gem wailed. “You’re so embarrassing. Maman, make Dadi stop right now.”

“Hyl, darling,” the woman said, and Hyl turned to her with an adoring smile.

“Yes, my flower?”

Gem pantomimed throwing up, and Rusty snorted, hiding his chuckle in his shoulder as Gem’s mother shot her son a reprimanding glare with several eyes. With her other eyes, she focused on Gem’s father.

“Let’s not embarrass Gemae quite yet. We don’t want to scare the Pyclon off before he’s even made it over the threshold.

” Ushering them inside, Gem’s mother took Rusty’s hand from Hyl’s grasp and gave it a squeeze.

“I’m Dierdri, Gemae’s birth mother. It’s good to finally meet you. Gemae talks about you all the time.”

“Not all the time,” Gem denied, cheeks darkening in a blush. “Just some of the time.”

Dierdri sent Rusty a wink. “It’s all the time.”

“Oh em geez, what happened to not embarrassing Gem?” Gem snapped, and Dierdri smirked.

“Well, he’s over the threshold now, isn’t he?” she retorted as she circled Rusty’s shoulders with an arm and guided him further into the house.

The mother Gem called Mymi was the next introduction.

She was shorter than Dierdri by an inch or two, but that did nothing to stifle her intimidating presence, given her sharp buzz cut and thickly muscled physique, clearly honed through hours at the gym.

She introduced herself with a firm handshake and a gruff voice. “I’m Mal. Nice to meet you, son.”

Bryn—who Gem called, Yma—was the shortest of the three mothers, taller still than Gem’s father, but not by much. She was the first to hug Rusty, her arms loose but sure. She smelled like incense and something sweet Rusty couldn’ t name.

“Welcome, welcome,” she said, voice breezy and calming. “It’s so wonderful you’re here.”

Surprising even himself, Rusty hugged her back, fisting his hands in her shirt.

She didn’t smell like his mom or feel like her.

She had nothing in common with Ireyna Róisyn, but there was something so familiar about the way she held him.

Or maybe he just hadn’t been hugged by a mother in far too long.

Like she sensed how much he needed it, Bryn sighed and tightened the embrace, not letting go until Rusty stepped back with an embarrassed sniffle, clearing his throat. “Um, hi. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s a joy,” Bryn said with the sweetest smile. “A simply wonderful joy.”

In the living room, there were even more people, and Rusty swallowed the anxious nerves fluttering up his throat and fortified himself. He could feel Gem watching him closely, like this was some sort of test Rusty hadn’t studied for—a test he refused to fail.

So he tried to remember names as people converged on him, shaking his hand or giving him hugs.

There were endless siblings and numerous partners and too many children to count.

Most were Araknis, but there were a few in-laws of different species.

A Coccyn and a Scorpia, a Reptyl and an Equyn.

Rusty was the only Mammylion, but no one treated him differently.

In fact, they were all really kind and welcoming.

Gem’s sister Tria was the only one to give Rusty shit, but it wasn’t because he was a Pyclon.

“Did you mark him up everywhere, or did you just gnaw on his neck?” she said with a disgusted grimace, and Gem squeaked, slapping a hand over the bruise he’d tried to cover up with makeup.

“Tria, shut up! That is highly inappropriate.” Gem stomped his foot childishly as Rusty scratched awkwardly behind his ear.

“Why? Is this, like, a secret?” She motioned between them. “Because, bro, he is literally doused in your pheromones.”

“Is that so?” Rusty asked blandly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Gem copied his stance. “I didn’t purposefully douse you. It’s a natural consequence of… things.”

“He means sex,” Tria’s girlfriend—Rusty couldn’t remember her name—added unhelpfully.

“I love that we’re talking so openly about this,” Gem tittered, pushing on Rusty’s shoulder. “It’s so great and wonderful and great. We’re gonna go somewhere else now. M’kay, buh-bye.”

Since he and Gem were the last to arrive, lunch was already set out on the table. Rusty sat between Gem and a little Araknis girl who barely acknowledged him and avoided eye contact. Which was honestly fine by him.

While everyone talked in Arakni around him, Rusty hunkered low and focused on the food, which was delicious.

He hadn’t had a home-cooked meal like this in a while, and he fought the instinct to scarf it down as quickly as possible.

Reminding himself that no one was going to try to steal his plate, he remembered the manners his mama had taught him.

Gem chatted animatedly with anyone within earshot, one arm draped over the back of Rusty’s chair.

His hand drifted absently over Rusty’s neck every once in a while, like it was instinct, not conscious choice on Gem’s part.

His lowest left hand rested on Rusty’s knee under the table, thumb rubbing soothingly, and it settled him.

“So, Rusty,” Hyl addressed him in Hellia, and Rusty tried not to curl in on himself as the attention of numerous people turned to him, “you’ve worked with Gem for several years now, right?”

“Um, yeah, six years about. ”

“Long time,” one of the brothers commented, and Rusty nodded.

“I guess.”

“Are you from around these parts?” Mal asked.

“I grew up at The Point. Well, before it was… you know,” Rusty said, and the adults nodded.

“He showed me a few months back. Like, where his house was and stuff,” Gem said around his bite of mashed gidym root. “The desert was beautiful. It was practically his backyard growing up. How awesome is that?”

Rusty ducked his head, wishing they’d change the subject. Everyone—except the young kids—knew what The Point used to be. Gem didn’t have to sugarcoat it.

“The desert is beautiful,” Bryn agreed. “I bet you and your siblings had a lot of space to play.”

“It was just me. Well, I had two older siblings, but they took off when I was still young. Never really knew them.” Rusty pushed his food around his plate. “But yeah, I liked to play in the dunes.”

“Didn’t you get lonely?” the little girl beside him asked, head turned in his direction but still not looking at him. “All by yourself?”

The table had fallen silent at the sound of the girl’s voice, and for a moment, she withered in her chair, like she hated the attention as much Rusty did. In an attempt to divert focus, he quickly said, “Not really. I had my mom, so I didn’t get lonely much.”

“Had. Past tense,” she said, several fingers tapping the table top. “You don’t have her anymore.”

“Ryni,” Gem cautioned, but Rusty squeezed the hand on his knee to quiet him .

“No, I don’t,” Rusty answered, even though she hadn’t technically asked a question, simply made an observation. “She died when I was fifteen.”

The girl—Ryni—frowned at that, tapping fingers stilling. “That makes me sad.”

“It makes me sad too, sometimes,” Rusty admitted, and Ryni nodded. Just once.

“Were you lonely then? After she died?”

Gem inhaled sharply, like he was going to intervene, but Rusty spoke first. “Yeah, I was lonely for a long time. But I’m not anymore.”

Ryni glanced under the table at Rusty and Gem’s twined hands. “’Cause of Gem?”

Gem was practically vibrating beside him, but Rusty pushed through the embarrassment and said, “Yeah, Gem’s good at that kind of thing.”

That must have been the right answer, because Ryni looked away with a satisfied nod. She started eating again, like the entire exchange had never taken place, and Rusty exhaled slowly as he focused back on his own plate.

Several loaded moments of silence passed before everyone seemed to start talking at once, like they were overcompensating for the awkwardness. Rusty glanced at Gem who was misty-eyed and smiling. Before he could ask if he’d done something wrong, Gem leaned in and touched his nose to Rusty’s.

“You don’t ever have to be lonely again,” he whispered, and Rusty’s whiskers twitched, fingers tightening their grip on Gem’s.

“I know.”

After lunch, Rusty helped clean up, needing a minute to recharge his social battery. He washed the dishes as Dierdri dried and put them away. They worked in silence for a while, until Dierdri broke it .

“She doesn’t talk much. Our Ryni,” she said as Rusty handed her a mixing bowl. “She’s incredibly smart, but she only talks when she has something important to say. Or if she needs the answer to something.”

“I’m sorry if I did something wrong,” Rusty said, but she shushed him with a hand on his arm.

“No, not at all. We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with our reactions. We never want to shut her down when she does decide to speak, but we also put you in a difficult position, given the questions she was asking.”

“It’s fine, really. I didn’t mind answering her.”

Dierdri squeezed Rusty’s arm before releasing him. “You’re very sweet. I see why Gemae likes you.”

Sweet? He couldn’t imagine a world where anyone would describe his grouchy ass as sweet.

“If you say so,” he finally said as he scrubbed out a pan.

“I do,” she said haughtily. “I’m a good judge of character.”

“That must be where Gem gets it.”

“Perhaps it is. Or maybe it’s something all Gemae’s own.”

They washed in silence for another few minutes before Rusty found himself blurting, “Aren’t you gonna ask what my intentions are with your son?”

Her throaty laugh was deep and lovely. “Oh, if I know my son—and I believe I do—he’s the one with all the intentions. Am I right?”

He barked a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

“He’s tenacious and very difficult to deter.”

“He’s the best person I know,” Rusty said honestly, and Dierdri beamed down at him .

“Gemae is the best person most people know,” she said, a little smug. “And he thinks very highly of you. He always has.”

“I don’t know why. I’m kind of an asshole,” he admitted, and she laughed again.

“Well, yes, he told us that too.” She knocked his shoulder playfully. “But he also said you were loyal and protective and caring.”

With a shake of his head, he released a disbelieving scoff, and she rolled several of her smaller eyes.

“I see it too, you know.”

“See what?” Rusty asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Dierdri cupped his chin in a damp hand, forcing him to look at her. “Your kind heart.”

His fingers quaked, and his breath hitched. “I don’t know if that’s true.”

“Well, I do.” She dropped her hand and started drying again, one small eye trained on him as she added, “And so does my son.”