In any case, Al did not mind staying in bed with Jude. He felt happiness watching Jude with their eggs. Similar to how Al had not left Jude’s side, Jude had refused to leave the eggs unattended for more than a few reluctant minutes at a time and spent his days curled up with them, stroking their shells and keeping them safe from everyone and everything except for Al.
It was such paternal behavior that Al could almost make himself forget the grim reality of their situation, which was that—as far as Al knew—Jude had no intention of being a father to their offspring, nor continuing to be a mate to Al, despite the wanton affection he allowed Al to shower him with, and that he often returned in kind.
“I brought you more of your yellow beverage,” Al said as he entered the bedroom. He carried a glass of fluorescent yellow, lemon-lime flavored “Gatorade,” as Jude had called it. One of the only reasons Al would agree to leave the room was to fetch things for Jude—things that were requested, or just things that he believed Jude should have. The Gatorade, for example, had initially been a request the day prior, when Jude mentioned that he felt as though his “electrolytes” were low. This, of course, caused Al to feel fear, as he had no idea—and still didn’t—what electrolytes were, or if a low supply of them was life-threatening. So despite it having been a one-time request, Al had been sure to regularly supply Jude with plenty of the yellow electrolyte beverage ever since.
“I really don’t need any more Gatorade right now,” Jude protested when Al handed him the glass, but he took a couple sips anyway, likely only to appease Al. Al did not mind. He would rather Jude have too many electrolytes than not have any at all.
When Jude finished sipping, he tilted his chin up imploringly, prompting Al to lean in and give him a kiss. He set Jude’s glass aside and climbed into bed next to him, the mattress so small and cramped, he had to move more carefully than normal so as not to disrupt the eggs.
Jude did not seem upset by his presence, but regardless, Al moved with more caution than was strictly necessary. He remembered all too well how earlier that day, Ezra had attempted to assist Jude in sitting up and had inadvertently touched one of the eggs in the process. The noise Jude had made at his human friend had quite closely resembled an animalistic snarl. It was a wonder Jude hadn’t bitten him. Jude was much more tolerant with Al than Ezra, likely due to the fact his instincts recognized Al as his True Mate, but Al did not want to risk it.
For a human being who said he would not make a good father, Jude was protective over his eggs to an almost frightening degree.
Al settled in bed without incident and reached over to place a hand on the egg closest to him. Jude did not growl when he did this—rather, he looked at Al with dreamy eyes that Al would have sworn proved feelings of love had Jude not stated he had no such feelings for him.
“Is the egg telling you anything interesting?” Jude asked, snuggling in closer and resting his head on Al’s shoulder—his preferred position as of late, much to Al’s delight.
Al focused on his fingertips pressing lightly against the warm shell of the egg, closing his eyes to help him concentrate. He wasn’t any better at telepathy than he had been the day he crashed into Earth, but reading the needs of his offspring was second nature, even easier than reading Jude. The eggs were, after all, partially made of his own genetic material.
Underneath his touch, Al felt a faint hum. None of their offspring were mature enough for complex thought or emotions, especially considering they were half human, and humans often struggled with complex thought and emotions even at full maturity, but they were mature enough for simple feelings. The one inside the egg beneath his hand, for example, was feeling contentment and comfort. It was at the proper temperature and was feeling properly nurtured. Al told Jude as much, and Jude smiled a shy little smile of pride that Al felt the absurd desire to bottle up so he could look at it whenever he felt in need of cheer. Al had seen many humans during his time on Earth, and he could say with certainty that Jude was the cutest and most beautiful out of all of them. This was more or less objective fact, despite Jude’s insistence to the contrary the few times Al had stated this belief to him.
“I feel desire for our offspring to resemble you,” Al said suddenly. “They will likely have many of the practical features of my true form—such as an adequate number of arms—but there is the possibility that, aesthetically, they will have traits unique to you.”
“You’d really want the kids to look human?” Jude asked doubtfully, a crease forming between his brows.
“No,” Al said resolutely. “I feel desire for them to look like one human in particular.”
Then, so Jude would feel understanding, he nuzzled the top of Jude’s head, getting a face full of fluffy hair. When he pulled away, Jude rewarded him with that same shy smile of pride, and Al felt himself glow with accomplishment.
“You know,” Jude said after an increment of time, “I don’t actually know what you look like. I mean when you aren’t cosplaying as a human, obviously. When we first met it was dark, and you were wearing your spacesuit, and also I’m pretty sure I was about two seconds away from astral projecting out of my body from stress and anxiety, so I don’t remember much. I can picture your real face, but that’s it.”
A strange twisting sensation happened to Al’s insides as he listened to Jude’s words. His true form—what he looked like without his human disguise—was one of his core insecurities. It was foolish, he knew, because Jude had already stated his intention to sever their bond, but regardless, Al couldn’t help but think that seeing what he truly looked like would drive Jude away permanently, ending any chance of reconsideration.
Reconsideration. Was that what Al was feeling hopefulness for? Did he believe there was a reality in which Jude might change his mind and decide to stay?
The—perhaps unfortunate—answer was yes. The longer he watched Jude care for their eggs so expertly, and the more Jude allowed them to act as though they were mates, the harder it was for Al to believe that, in the not-so-far-off future, they were going to be separated. Forever.
“Al?” Jude pressed when Al remained silent.
“I feel fine,” Al said, voice breaking slightly, causing him to sound as though he did not, in fact, feel fine. Jude raised an eyebrow at him.
“It really bothers you, doesn’t it? The thought of me seeing what you look like for real?” Jude asked, and what was Al meant to say to that?
There was no benefit in lying, so he said, “I feel fear when I think of you perceiving me as I truly am.”
Jude shook his head. “Why do you still think that that would freak me out? Like, not to invalidate your feelings or whatever, but I did givebirthyesterday. I don’t think anything else can really faze me at this point.”
“But you don’t know this with certainty,” Al protested. “You cannot predict how you may feel if you were to view my actual body.”
“Okay, okay, don’t panic.” Jude held up a hand, and Al realized that he was, in fact, in an active state of panic. He took a deep breath of oxygen-saturated air and exhaled slowly. Jude nodded his approval.
“Yeah, man, that’s it, Breathe. I wasn’t asking you to strip naked and drop the human disguise or anything. I just was curious, you know, thinking about whattheymight look like once they’ve hatched.” He nodded at the eggs.
“It is of no consequence,” Al said, feeling melancholy. “Once I am able to return to my home planet, they will be with me. You will not perceive them, so their appearance should not be a concern.” If his voice hardened as he spoke, it wasn’t something he was able to prevent. Al spoke nothing but the truth, and Jude appeared properly abashed.
“Just because I’m not keeping them doesn’t mean I don’t lo—what I mean is that I can still be curious, since technically I’m still their fa—I mean. Fuck.” Jude scrubbed his face with his hands, then dropped them to his lap. He looked at each egg, one by one, and Al could see conflict in his eyes. In a small voice, Jude said, “It’s not like Iwantto leave them.”
Al’s heart skipped a beat.
