CHAPTER 15

Back at Ralia’s place, Kelsen and Niko began to unpack, Kelsen in Ralia’s bedroom, where she’d installed some Moccan furniture and another Moccan-sized bathroom set, and Niko in the Moccan prefab shelter they’d stayed in on their previous visit. It didn’t take long, and soon they were chatting and relaxing in Ralia’s sitting room, Ralia stretched out on the couch with Kelsen on the armrest next to her head, and Fyche reclining in the new armchair she’d purchased with Niko in his lap.

“I seriously can’t wait to meet all these Latian attendees in person,” Niko said.

Fyche nodded. “And we get to meet new Moccans. I’ve still only met a few in person.”

Stroking Kelsen’s back with a finger, Ralia smiled. “We get to help facilitate all these people, people from different planets, meeting and getting to know each other. It still blows my mind how successful SDM has been.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just looking forward to it being over,” Kelsen grumbled.

Ralia shifted her finger and poked him in the stomach instead. “Don’t be a wet blanket.”

“He cannot help it,” Niko said. “He was born with soggy sheet disease. Terminal clammy-cover-itis. Diagnosed drenched duvet at birth.”

Sighing dramatically, Kelsen stretched out on the armrest, putting his head back and crossing his arms over his chest. “You are horrible bullies, and I am a victim. Also, if I had anything in reach other than my phone, I would absolutely have thrown it at you.” He noticed the other three staring at him expectantly. “Fine! It will be cool if we can help Moccans and Latians get along a little better. One big happy interstellar family. Satisfied?”

Ralia leaned over and gave him a quick peck. “Very much so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to use the bathroom. Be back in a minute.”

As she rose and headed down the hall, Niko prodded Fyche’s hand. “Hey, set me down while she’s gone? I need to get an update from Donovan and talk to one of the caterers. I know that stuff bores you guys, so I’ll go deaf and mute in my room.” By this, he meant that he’d set his voice equipment to stop broadcasting his voice and to deafen him to Latian voices, allowing him to focus on Moccan voices—or voices already scaled down in volume by his phone. It wasn’t perfect, and anything particularly loud would still get through, but it was handy for making discreet calls and drowning out everyday noise.

With Ralia gone to her room and Niko sequestered in the Moccan-sized dwelling, Kelsen and Fyche were left to their own devices, an uncommon occurrence. “Uh, so,” Kelsen said, trying to remember what Fyche liked other than Niko. “You see the season finale of The Dragon Guard?”

Fyche stared at him blankly, making him feel scrutinized and uncomfortable. People’s eyes shouldn’t just pierce like that. “I don’t have much time for watching fantasy shows, between work and helping out with Size Doesn’t Matter.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

A tense silence grew between them. For his part, Fyche didn’t seem to enjoy it any more than he did; he wasn’t being terse on purpose. He was just...kind of like that. Kelsen understood being like that, though it was in a different way, and he hadn’t yet figured out how to bridge the two.

Fortunately, Ralia and Niko returned to save them from themselves. Ralia suggested they give Kelsen’s parents a video call, to which everyone agreed, and soon Gloria and Robert’s faces appeared on Ralia’s phone. Kelsen assured them that they had arrived just fine, and yes, he was all right, yes mother he was fine, and yes, Niko was okay too, and they were having a good time, and everything was on track for the week ahead.

They badgered Kelsen and the others with questions, some barbed, but were eventually mollified enough to say goodbye. They were getting better.

A little.

After another round of phone calls to make sure the preparations were still on track and nothing at the hotel or any of the upcoming venues was on fire—this time, Kelsen accompanied Ralia to her bedroom, and Niko stayed with Fyche—the latter two volunteered to go out and get some takeout for dinner, ignoring Kelsen’s protests that delivery was easier. Ralia sided with them apologetically. “It’s easier for houses,” she said. “Apartments are another story. I don’t want to have to form a search party to find the hapless delivery driver who ends up two blocks over.”

“See? Once again, I am right, and you are wrong. Also, you are dumb and ugly,” Niko said helpfully as Fyche carried him out the door.

“At least I’m not—” The door shut. “God damn it. That was a solid exit. I’ll have to give him a friction burn or something when he gets back.” Kelsen rolled over, resting his head on his paws. “Hey Ralia, wanna help me completely destroy Niko when he gets back? I’m sure Fyche will let us—nay, help us—if we phrase it the right way.”

Ralia, however, had a disturbingly mischievous look in her eye. “No. But I might give someone a...friction burn.” She held out her paw to him, and despite knowing she was about to find a way to bully him further, he clambered on.

“I don’t like your tone of voice. You sound like you’re planning to steal my soul or commit tax evasion or something.”

She brought him up to her face. “Final count, before you arrived today, was twenty-one.”

He squinted quizzically at her. “Twenty-one? Twenty-one what?” Her smile widened, and he found himself pressed up against the end of her muzzle. “Oh. Oh, shit.”

“‘Oh, shit’ is right. Prepare for the nuzzling of a lifetime. There will be no mercy.” She began peppering him with kisses all over his body, stopping at random intervals to hug him tightly or rub him against her nose. It was somehow awful and gentle and wonderful and aggressive all at once.

For a time, it was all right—enjoyable, even, a sample of the promised “quality physical contact” they’d spoken of before. But as it went on, the act soured, and he felt a growing discomfort. “Ralia, stop,” he said quietly.

“Oh, I don’t think so. We’re not even at two yet.”

Her fingers were around his legs. What had once felt secure was now a feeling of being trapped. “Ralia, please,” he said, more urgently.

She cut him off with another kiss. “I make good on my threats. You’re not getting out of this so easily.”

She continued her attentions, and now he felt ensnared entirely, he was stuck, he was trapped, in the control of this giant, this monster, he was completely at the mercy of its whim, and it was crushing him, he couldn’t breathe—

“Ralia! STOP!” He barely managed to get the words out as he started to hyperventilate.

This time, she stopped immediately. “Kel? Are you okay? Did...did I hurt you?”

He managed to get a finger up, silencing her, while he started a breathing exercise. While her lungs and differing oxygen needs prevented her from joining him, she recognized what he was doing, and waited patiently.

Eventually, he was recovered enough to speak, though he had to turn himself around. He couldn’t handle looking her in the eye right now. “I’m...I’m okay.”

“Is it your chest? Kel, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to...do we need to get you to a doctor? What hurts?”

He took a few more breaths, closing his eyes. “It isn’t that. I just...I freaked out. I think I lost touch with reality for a second there. You weren’t you, and I wasn’t me, I guess. I panicked.”

Though his eyes were still closed, he could hear the guilt in her voice. “I’m sorry, Kel. Do...do you want me to put you down for a bit?”

He shook his head. “No. And it’s all right...I know you stopped as soon as you realized I was serious. I just...need to be calm and not have eye contact for a bit. Let’s lie down for a bit and just...be.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

She lay back on the couch, and he lay down on her shoulder—on her neck, really—awash in fluff. “Maybe we need to come up with a word or phrase, something so you know when I’m just kidding and when I’m...not doing so well.” He managed a weak chuckle. “And don’t you dare tell Niko. He would never let me live it down if he knew I needed a cuddle safeword.”

…

Having picked up their order, Fyche was headed back to Ralia’s apartment, the warm bag of takeout in his paws and Niko riding in his vest pocket. The Moccan mouse was waving at everyone they passed on the street cheerfully. He’d done similar things on his previous visit before going off alone with Pakos, or so Fyche had learned from Ralia. Fyche was happy to see Niko’s confidence and comfort had recovered enough to do so again.

Niko must have caught him smiling, as he poked Fyche in the chest. “Hey up there, what’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Fyche said truthfully.

That wasn’t enough, of course, as Niko began to jab him repeatedly, chanting “Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

“Nothing’s funny! I’m just glad you’re having a good time.” He looked away. “I was worried you’d...you know.”

Niko beamed and hugged Fyche’s chest. “I am having a good time. You’re here.” Fyche found himself blushing, as only Niko could cause him to. “And I will have you know, I finished the last level of therapy, beat the final boss, and achieved a passing grade, all of these things being both possible and rational things to strive for, and I know not everyone is out to get me. That one guy rolled his eyes, but he was probably just having a day. Everyone else today has been cool. Like these guys.” He gestured ahead at three Latians, a bear, a gator, and a goat, who were idling and chatting on the street corner he and Fyche were approaching. “What is up, my dudes?”

The three turned to look sharply, glaring intensely at the two of them. Niko whistled. “Okay, not in the mood. I get it. Sorry, gents, didn’t mean to disturb you. Later.” Fyche tried to hurry past them, only for the bear to step into his path. The gator and the goat stepped up beside him.

“What is this rat to you?” the bear spat at Fyche.

“Mouse actually, asshole,” Niko said. “Is this about the gay thing? Again? For fuck’s sake, I am a goddamn homophobia magnet.”

“This Moccan is my friend,” Fyche said quietly. “Move, and we’ll leave.”

“Leech,” the goat said. “Fucking parasite. You having fun, leech? Coming to Latia to steal all our shit and all our jobs?”

Niko sighed. “I have a job, and what do you expect me to steal? A TV? How the fuck would I carry it?”

The bear, a good Latian foot taller than Fyche, leaned down, meeting Niko’s eyes. “Parasites should stay in the swamp. Go back to your planet, leech.” Niko’s flippant attitude seemed to shatter. Fyche could feel him shaking, leaning back against his chest. Emboldened, the bear raised a paw.

Fyche didn’t know what the bear’s plan was, but he wasn’t about to wait and see. Stepping to the left, he elbowed the goat in the face, sending him reeling back, clutching a bloody nose. With his right hand, he flung the takeout bag into the gator, splattering him with sauce and grease. Then, grabbing the bear’s exposed paw, he kicked at the bear’s leg and pulled him forward, sending him crashing to the ground.

Before any of them could recover, he sprinted away, holding Niko as still as he could manage with his paw.

…

Back at Ralia’s apartment, Fyche paced back and forth. Niko, Kelsen, and Ralia were all seated on the couch, with Ralia’s phone between them, currently on speaker. “Yes, for the third time, this was an attempted attack on a Moccan,” he growled. Kelsen had one arm around Niko, who insisted he was fine, but would jump at any unexpected noises. “I was walking back to a friend’s apartment with my Moccan friend, and those three stopped us, then made to attack us.”

“So you’ve said, sir. But you indicated you attacked them first.”

“In self defense! He was about to hit one of us!”

“Mmhmm. Well, a uniformed officer will contact you to meet in person and ask further questions at the first possible opportunity.”

Fyche threw up his paws, but let Ralia take over. “First possible opportunity, ma’am? Can you be more specific?”

“Unfortunately, all our officers are currently assisting other civilians. Please call back if you encounter an emergency.” The dispatcher gave them a clipped goodbye and hung up.

Kelsen looked between Ralia and Fyche. “What does that even mean?”

“It means they’re not going to do anything,” said Niko dully.

“That’s their job! They’re the police!”

Niko muttered something about protecting private property, but was cut off by Ralia. “Okay,” she said. “You ran into some jerks. Let’s just focus on what we can do. First off, we only go out as a group. No one goes off alone or in pairs. Sound good?” The others agreed, though the frustration in their voices was clear. “Second, for anything public or with the event, we have one of our hired security with us.”

Fyche shrugged grudgingly. “Probably a good idea.” Kelsen agreed as well, though Niko only nodded absently.

“Good. Then...let’s order some food. Delivery this time. We can receive it in the lobby, and I’ll see if Lins wants to chat for a bit while we’re there.”

Kelsen gave Niko a squeeze. “Delivery? Sounds like I was right, and you were wrong. Also, you’re dumb and ugly.” Niko gave him a weak grin.

…

After dinner, they all turned in early, Kelsen and Ralia in her bedroom and Niko and Fyche in Ralia’s new armchair, which Fyche seemed to like quite a bit. After the events of the day, Niko fell asleep almost instantly.

He found himself in a nightmare. He was in a hospital bed, his arm in a sling and his legs wrapped with bandages, but instead of a hospital, he was laid out on a Latian-sized pillow. A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see three black Latian wolves. Each wore the same clothing as the bear, gator, and goat from earlier that night.

“Leech.”

“Cock tease.”

“Fucking parasite.”

“The cops are after me!”

“Go back to the swamp!”

“Now it’s your turn.”

As one, the three reached for him.

…

“Niko? Niko?...”

Niko’s eyes fluttered open to see a Latian face looming over him. He yelped, trying to backpedal, and nearly fell. Hanging half off a leg, dangling above the ground, he realized he’d been dreaming, and must have woken Fyche, who had, of course, checked on him. And he’d freaked out.

Fyche held him gently, concerned. He patted the fox’s thumb reassuringly, and was lifted back onto his lap. “I’m okay. Sorry. Nightmare.”

Fyche cocked his head, seeming to strain to listen, and only then did Niko realize he’d taken off his voice equipment to sleep. “I’m good!” he said a bit louder.

“Niko is...okay?” Fyche whispered, his words heavily accented.

“Yeah, I’m all right. Just a bad dream.”

Fyche nodded, but didn’t seem calmed. “About...before?”

“Heh, yeah...” Niko shrugged. “Same as usual. I get them every so often. Don’t worry about it.”

“Worry. Yes. Much worry.” Fyche hung his head. “Want...do help. Make away.”

Niko gestured for Fyche to bring him up to eye level. “Hey. You do help. You’re the best mattress a guy could hope for.” He winked. “And...for serious...it sucks, but it doesn’t happen all the time, and it’s not fair to either of us to expect you to fix me. Getting to be here with you more than makes up for it.” He yawned, and Fyche followed suit. “Fuck, I hope you understand what I’m saying. Let’s go back to bed. I’ll elaborate on anything that got lost in the morning.”