“Well, I’m a wild card,” said Joe. He then did what Ezra suspected was meant to be finger guns, but he pointed his thumbs out and then used all four fingers instead of only one.
“Right.” Ezra glanced at Titan for help, but Titan was just watching him expectantly, waiting for him to answer the question. Ezra rubbed the nape of his neck with a grimace and said, “I guess my favorite part of Earth is the people. Everybody’s different and has their own stories. I dunno, humans are cool.”
Joe snapped his fingers, startling Ezra, Titan, and Kyle all at once.
“See,” he said, pointing at Ezra. “This dude gets what I am saying.”
The rest of the interview went about as well as the beginning, with Joe answering with the wildest English Ezra had ever heard, and occasionally peppering in questions of his own, such as, “What’s your favorite food to eat on Earth, dude?” and “Do you have any good human childhood memories?”
By the time Ezra had told him, “We’ll contact you soon about the status of your application,” and Joe had saluted him and left with his escort—who had essentially materialized outside the door the moment the interview had finished—Ezra was more exhausted than he’d ever been after vetting a client.
He tilted his chair back and threw an elbow over his eyes, blowing out a huge breath of relief that it was over. After composing himself, he lifted his arm just high enough to cast a look over at Titan, expecting him to be equally worn down from the bizarre back-and-forth, and maybe regretting his change in career.
Instead, he found him stamping something onto the front of Joe’s file.
“What are you doing?” Ezra asked.
“Well, it is clear what the decision is about Joe Johnson,” Titan said, very businesslike. “The interview was thorough, and we are both in agreement, I am certain.”
He then held up the file, and there on the corner were big red letters spelling out the word “APPROVED.”
13
Titan
Sprawled flat on his back on the floor of his designated unconsciousness quarters within his brother’s government-given estate, Titan stared at the ceiling and contemplated the impossible: could it be that there was something wrong with him? He was a great being—perhaps the greatest Darvrokian to have been born during any modern cycle—and had cemented his reputation as such by adhering to his father’s strict demands the entirety of his life, but could it be that there was more to greatness than he had been led to believe? It was a laughable thought… or at least it had been before he had met Ambassador Ezra Miller.
It had been over a week since he and Ezra had last engaged in fucking, yet Ezra was no more generous with his affections than he had been before the fucking had taken place. This was quite unusual. He had assumed that all it would take to thaw Ezra’s frigid opinion of him would be a few hot hours spent together between the sheets, but it seemed this was not the case, as even now Ezra would not stop saying foolish things such as, “You’re like if spam emails were a person,” and “You have the personality of wet cardboard, if that wet cardboard also thought way too highly of itself.” Titan did not know what spam emails or wet cardboard were, but he could infer from the tone with which Ezra spoke that they were not desirable things to be.
Worse, Ezra’s disdain for him only seemed to grow with each passing day, and Titan could not fathom why. When they were together, Ezra either spoke very sparingly or with malice, and when they were apart, Ezra did whatever he could to keep it that way. It seemed that he was avoiding Titan as much as possible and spending time with him only when their shared government position necessitated it, which made no sense, as by now he’d had plenty of opportunity to observe the numerous ways in which Titan was great and therefore deserving of his company.
It was perplexing, to say the least, but it was not the only troubling mystery to arise from this unusual series of events. What struck Titan just as heavily was the fact that hecared.He did not want Ezra to dislike him. In fact, he wished to gain Ezra’s favor very much indeed. There was something between them, something powerful enough to change Ezra’s body, perhaps even something predetermined by fate, but with Ezra so distant and frigid, he would never be able to figure out what it was, and it was all because of whatever Ezra found wrong about him.
Grinding out a groan between his teeth, Titan covered his face with his hands and rolled onto his side, curling up pitifully, as though he were still in his egg. It would be to his benefit to discuss his feelings of inadequacy with someone, but who? For the briefest increment he entertained the notion of going to Al—they were brothers, after all, and he was the only one Titan knew who had found his True Mate—but then he thought of the day before, when he had attempted to dine with Al, Jude, and their offspring, and had been met with nothing but cool stares and blunt, one-syllable answers during his attempts at conversation. It had quickly become clear that Al would never consider the possibility of a “heart-to-heart” with him. That fact had never bothered him before—he had always chalked it up to jealousy—but today, in his vulnerable state, he found himself wishing that Al was not so blatantly unhappy in his presence.
It unsettled him to suddenly care about this, so he pushed the feeling down deep inside, deciding to address it at a later date… or perhaps never at all.
With the option of confiding in Al no longer valid, he next considered Kyle. He often acted as a confidant for Al and Ezra, and was therefore qualified to act as one for Titan as well. It would be simple to order Kyle to act in a friendly manner toward him and offer advice as it pertained to Titan’s unique situation, but something about that did not sit well with him, either. The thought of it made his stomach twist uncomfortably, so Titan dismissed the notion.
Who else, then, could he confide in?
He had many friends. Many great, wonderful, impressive friends.
Friends he had made in the government, with whom he could never share such deprecating thoughts lest he be seen as lesser, and friends who had become his friend simply so they would be associated with a great and impressive being.
Titan frowned.
His hands dropped from his face.
Was there really no one he could talk to?
Was he really so alone?
The realization pierced his heart as deeply as a Sand Dweller’s stinger. How could it be that he had so many friends, yet no one he could trust with this dark, secret truth? He would have to rectify this, of course. He would make genuine friends. It would not be difficult, as he was an exemplary being that anyone would be lucky to have as a close companion, but…
He feared he did not know where to begin.
Titan spent some time on the floor in thought, sifting through every being he could think of, human or otherwise, who might be able to help. The name he finally landed on wasKr’?∂’txx, who was one of Titan’s eldest brothers. From what Titan knew of him, Kr’?∂’txx was an impressive and respectable being who did not care for gossip or rumors, and who would surely keep Titan’s worries to himself. They were not close as there was a considerable age gap between their clutches—Kr’?∂’txx and his clutchmates had been long out of the nest and living independent lives of their own by the time Titan and his clutchmates had hatched—but Kr’?∂’txx had always been kind to Titan, although somewhat reserved. His name reflected this. In English, he would be called… what was the best translation? Mercy. Yes, that was the closest approximation.
