Ozzie stared. “I, uh. I have a couple of streaming services and YouTube.”
“Don’t worry. I got this.” Tuesday clicked around until he found a competitive cooking show called Cutthroat Kitchen. “Here! This one!” He pointed at the host on the screen. “That’s Satan.”
“Alton Brown?” Ozzie laughed around a bite of pizza. “You think he’s Satan?”
Tuesday snorted. “Look, I don’t know a lot about all your fancy-shmancy Earth religions, but that guy is definitely Satan.”
“Okay.” Ozzie laughed, helpless to stop the smile that was splitting his face in half. His gaze drifted often to Tuesday’s face as they watched the show, finding him more fascinating than the chefs who had to deal with everything, from cooking with tiny pots from a child’s play set, to breaking down an entire turkey with a pocketknife.
There was an alien on his couch.
A beautiful alien who had a great smile, a silly sense of humor, and somehow, whose very presence was soothing instead of irritating. He didn’t seem to care when Ozzie acted grouchy or didn’t know how to respond to his relentless flirty advances—advances, by the way, he had even offered to stop. Tuesday was apparently more than content to simply sit on the couch and laugh at the ridiculous show.
It was… nice.
Ozzie didn’t have to pretend to be interested in a boring conversation, or act normal, because there was literally nothing normal about this situation. It was okay that he was still a bit nervous, though he was starting to forget why.
Tuesday was funny, gorgeous, and there was something about his energy that was oddly relaxing.
Even with the extra arms.
After several episodes of the bizarre and frankly sadistic show, bingeing way too many cookies and fudge and finishing off the leftover pizza, Ozzie’s eyelids were heavy and his stomach was full. He was definitely ready for bed.
Even though he’d had so much fun hanging out with Tuesday…
Other than Derrick, Ozzie had never spent this much time with another person without getting the sense that he was fucking it up somehow.
Wow, yeah.
It was really nice.
But he really needed to go to sleep.
“I hate to break this party up, but fuck, I gotta head to bed. I have work in the morning.” Ozzie yawned, rubbing a hand over his face. “You still, uh, wanna crash here?”
“That was sorta the plan, baby.” Tuesday grinned. “You know, the whole hiding from my ex thing.” He reached for Ozzie’s hand. “Look, I promise I’ll be out of your gorgeous hair in just a few days, okay?”
Ozzie's breath caught, his heart skipping over itself in his broad chest. “No worries.” He exhaled sharply, shrugging and letting out a nervous giggle. “Take your time. You can stay as long as you need to.”
The words were out before he could stop them.
“Thanks, baby.” Tuesday leaned in close and licked Ozzie’s cheek
Ozzie squealed. “Oh my God! What the fuck! Why?”
“What?” Tuesday blinked. “I can’t kiss your cheek?”
“I just… Just wasn’t expecting that.” Ozzie laughed, blushing bright and trying not to make a face. “Thank you. That’s very sweet.”
Tuesday smiled warmly. “You’re welcome.” He stood up and stretched, yawning a bit. “Mmm, I’m definitely ready to crash. Running around the universe is really tiring.”
“I bet, uh…” Ozzie’s heart fluttered a bit, and his head tilted back to take in the full expanse of Tuesday’s incredibly tall body. “The couch is probably a little short for you, so you can have my bed.”
The coffee table was a mess of empty Tupperware and the pizza box, but Ozzie ignored it.
That was tomorrow’s problem.
“All right. Come on, then.” Tuesday reached for Ozzie’s hand, leading him right back to the bedroom. “You gotta brush your teeth. I remember that being very important.”
