“You are not required to do so,” he reminded him.
Jude’s smile this time was not prideful, but sad. “Let’s not have that argument again right now. I just… I just want to enjoy the time I have with them.” He glanced at Al. “With you.”
Reconsideration. Thatwaswhat Al felt desire for. Maybe Jude’s words were an indication that it was possible. Had he been about to say he loved their offspring? That he thought of himself as their father? A feeling of hope ballooned in Al’s chest, even as he knew that the higher he went, the harder the fall.
But for Jude totrulyreconsider their life together, it was only fair that he did so with all the information laid out in front of him. Al at least owed him that much.
Wordlessly, and with as much care as he’d taken going in, Al slid out of the bed, stood beside it, and began disrobing.
“Uh.” Jude tilted his head, puzzled. “Whatcha doin’ there?”
“I am stripping naked and dropping my human disguise,” Al informed him.
Jude’s eyebrows shot up. “Al, I swear I wasn’t trying to pressure you into something you aren’t comfortable with. I was genuinely just curious. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“I feel desire for you to see who I am,” Al said, shucking off his boxer shorts and lifting his shirt over his head. He considered his lanyard for an increment of time, but decided to leave it on.
“Al,” Jude said again, voice painfully soft. “Idosee who you are.”
This gave Al pause. He waffled back and forth on his decision before coming to a conclusion and saying, “You deserve to see.”
Jude opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, but closed it again. He then nodded, granting Al permission to continue.
Al swallowed hard, closed his eyes, and concentrated. It had been months since he’d changed into his human form, and it took an increment of time for him to remember his real body. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, letting all the tension in his muscles out, and then he felt it—the shift.
It was like coming home after being away on a long trip. His muscles were lean and defined, and he could feel added strength return to him. The shape of his head was more angular, his tongue sharper, his fingers—all twenty of them—thinner. He stood on two sturdy legs, with powerful thighs and calves. His human skin, and all its soft hair, transformed into the smooth scales made to protect him.
He was himself again.
He was himself again, and he was terrified to see what Jude’s facial expression was going to say when he opened his eyes.
“Al,” Jude said, likely sensing his hesitation. “Look at me.”
And because Al couldn’t deny Jude anything, he did.
Blinking his eyes open, he found Jude staring at him in awe. Not disgust or fear, but awe. His eyes were wandering all over, surveying every inch of Al’s exposed body, and Al braced himself for what he’d have to say about it.
“Your markings,” Jude said. “They’re gorgeous.”
Al’s breath caught in his throat. He looked down his body at the markings he always tried his hardest to ignore—spirals of discolored scales that appeared at random from his feet all the way up to his neck. They were not “gorgeous”—they were unnatural. Ugly. Unbefitting of a Darvrokian. Al wore clothing to conceal them at all times, even in the times when radiation from Darvrok 6’s distant secondary star made the temperature far too hot, for even with his transformative abilities, he could not hide them if he wished to keep his true form. They were always a slightly darker color than the scales around them, no matter which color he chose to be.
“That is not…” Al stopped. Swallowed. Tried again. “My markings are not a source of pride, Jude.”
Jude’s eyes shot up from the markings and met Al’s gaze sharply. He asked, “What do you mean?”
If Al were still in his human form, he would blush from mortification. He wanted to cover his belly with his arms or tug his shirt back on to hide his shame from Jude, but Jude seemed so earnest, like he really did think that Al’s markings were beautiful, that Al was able to hold himself back.
“My species,” Al began, “are born with markings on our bodies. These markings are said to be indicative of who we are to become in the future. Titan, for example, has striped markings on his chest and down his sides, which means ‘leadership’ in my culture. I have a sister whose markings are three vertical lines over her shoulders. This means intelligence.”
“And what do yours mean?” Jude asked. His gaze had shifted back to the spirals. Al shrugged.
“They do not mean anything,” he said, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice, but this was a point of deep-seated insecurity. “There is no symbol in my culture that these resemble. They are nonsense. They are, like my name, unknowable. I am unknowable, Jude. That is who I am.”
Jude seemed to consider this. He then held out a hand. Hesitating, Al stepped forward and took it. Jude muttered something about Al being cold to the touch. He then used a finger to lightly trace the spiral patterns. The soft touch tickled, but Al was so enraptured by the reverence of it that he didn’t dare pull away.
“They’re galaxies,” Jude said finally.
Al blinked. “What?”
