“Al’s parents stated that Nonhuman Buttons spoke very highly of you, Human Ezra,” Kyle explained. “We feel appreciation for your commitment to interspecific relations, and perhaps in the near future, we will have opportunities for you to serve as an ambassador between our species, should you accept, dude.”
Ezra looked at each of them, eyebrows still raised. He then shrugged.
“Cool, man, I accept,” he said.
“I will return with a vehicle to transport your items, and then, if you are ready, we can begin the moving process.”
Al looked to Jude for permission. Jude looked back, eyes wide.
“What,” Jude said, “the fuck?”
“Are you feeling displeasure?” Al asked nervously. He had assumed that humans had similar customs when it came to ensuring the care of their offspring, but it seemed as though he was mistaken.
“Yeah, no, displeasure is not the word I would use,” Jude said with a weak laugh. “Incredulity, maybe? The feeling of ‘am I fucking dreaming,’ perhaps? But no, not displeasure. Not displeasure at all.”
“You are feeling agreement, then?” Al asked. “May we go home?”
Although still shaken, Jude managed a smile.
“Yes,” he said. “Let’s take our family home. You, me, the kids… Ezra and Buttons.”
“Plus Kyle,” Kyle interjected. Jude nodded soundly.
“Plus Kyle,” he agreed.
Epilogue
Jude
Jude lay on the hood of his car—the same shitty Chevy Impala he refused to get rid of despite the fact that he was now part of the one percent—with his head resting on Al’s chest as the two of them gazed at the stars. Going out into the middle of nowhere to look at the night sky used to be such a melancholic activity, but that night he felt serene.
It had been nearly half a year since Kyle had shown up at their front door with a pocket full of “fuck you” money, and their little family was thriving in their mansion on the outskirts of Albuquerque. The children were talking now, in a minimum of three different languages, and were getting into everything and anything, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle—especially since his parents had stopped being absolutely insufferable, and were around sometimes to help. Al’s speech over dinner that night had humbled them, and after quite a few months of no contact, during which they’d had their “come to gay Jesus” moment, they’d realized the depths of their wrongdoings and apologized.
Their relationship wasn’t by any means fixed, but it was better than it had been before, and Jude saw them making an effort to be better every time they all got together. He was sure it had nothing to do with the fact they were over the moon to be grandparents—apparently, having gay children was a step too far, but alien grandchildren were a-okay—but whatever the reason, he was glad they were coming around. Not only did it make life easier for him, but it would apparently make life easier for Lennon one day, and beyond that, it would improve the life of every openly queer person who would now be spared their harsh whispers and judging scowls.
Another small miracle had happened since then, too—Jude was painting more frequently again. It was strange. When he’d been in school, it had felt as though he’d only made art for the sake of earning a grade. He’d been so stressed that it had stopped being fun, but now that he was rolling in piles of cash, he found himself wanting to paint almost every day. Often, his paintings depicted his family. Sometimes, they depicted more abstract things, like outer space or symbols that Al taught him. Sometimes, they were giant messes, because he let the kids paint alongside him, and those were his favorite pieces of all.
The thought of their family sat with him, and in the quiet stillness of the desert night, Jude abruptly asked, “Do you ever miss home?”
Al hummed thoughtfully, his fingers threading unconsciously through Jude’s hair, as they often did. “On occasion,” he said eventually. “My family has many negative qualities, but they are, for better or worse, my family. And Earth customs are very different than mine. I am growing more and more accustomed each day, however, and it is not as though I will never see my planet again. One day, I will take you there.”
“I’d like that,” Jude said, and he meant it. For so long, Al had been the fish out of water—Jude wanted a chance to see him in his natural habitat.
“It is unfortunate that the Darvrokian government has vetoed international travel of humans to Darvrok 6 for the time being,” Al said. “I wish the people of the FBI, United States, Earth had not meanly stolen my ship and torn it apart, but there is to be no helping it. Until human leaders complete the required sensitivity trainings, no human will be permitted in intergalactic territory, yourself included. My father says they are working on it, but as many humans are mean and stubborn, it may take a long time. A pity, as I would have liked for our wedding to be on my home planet, if only because it will be a hassle getting the proper paperwork for my family, and I do not feel certainty that all of them will be as excellent at pretending to be as human as I am.”
Jude froze.
“Our what?” he asked, pushing himself up with one hand and looking down at Al with a frown. Al rolled his eyes.
“I am certain this is the correct term. We watched the reality entertainment programBride Bloodbathonly yesterday.”
“No, I know what a wedding is, but since when are we having one?”
It was Al’s turn to be confused. “Our bonding ceremony, Jude.”
“I thought we were already bonded.”
“I have explained this to you, my love. We share a cursory bond as True Mates, but for a full bond we must have someone from my planet come and perform the ritual. This is usually a time for celebration, much like your human weddings. Do you… do you not feel desire to do this?” Al appeared suddenly insecure, and Jude wanted to backtrack immediately. He leaned down and kissed Al soundly.
