Page 61 of Citrine

I look back at his tentacles as he speaks. They seem sturdy enough to hold me above water, so I choose to trust him. I stand on the rocks and tread carefully, mindful of my poorly protected feet. This black suit is great and all, but the 'shoes' leave something to be desired.

I get to the edge of the water, and he stretches a tentacle out, wrapping it around me. I feel weightless as he lifts me up and gently brings me into the water.

It feels warm upon contact, but colder as my body moves below the surface. He holds onto me carefully as he swims, swirling the water as we move. He doesn't say anything as we just float on the water.

"Do you need the water to live?"

"Yes. I don't like it."

"Really? But you need it."

"I don't have to like it."

He seems irritated, yet his hold remains gentle.

"It tastes disgusting, and it feels disgusting."

"I'm sorry."

I don't know what to say, though I can certainly relate.

Instead, I reach out a hand waiting for him to move into it, and comfort him, running my hands along his upper arms as he tentatively asks and then mimics my gentle shoulder strokes.

Each touch making both of us breath a little heavier.

We stay like that for a while before we get out and head back to the cove. It seemed like I was right about him retaining water in his skin to be able to last longer on land, although it looks very uncomfortable with some of his suckers swollen.

I find sustenance for myself and sit by the tree, finishing the fruit I collected. I will worry about finding proper food for later. He sits right next to me, his tentacle wrapped around my waist. He still hadn't let go of me since we left the water. For some reason, I offer him a piece one of the fruit.

He gives me a look of disgust, or I assume so based on context so far, tossing it away with his free tentacle. I chuckle and continue eating, pausing mid chew as an idea forms in my head.

"Why don't you try tasting it? You said the fish tastes disgusting, so I was wondering if you might want to eat something else."

"Don't want."

He's so obstinate.

The look on his face is comical in how mulish it is and suddenly the ever-present arousal flares. When did his grumpiness become… cute?

"Would you like a kiss, Wroahk?" I ask, surprising myself. "It's like kind hands, but better."

"Better? What is it?"

"It's not something I can explain. It's just something I'll have to show you if you let me."

I've lost my mind. Maybe it's the loneliness getting to me, but I cannot believe I'm about to kiss an alien who would've preferred to eat me just a few days ago.

I bite into a fruit and rise to my feet so that I'm facing him. I lean in and kiss his lips, if I can call them that. They look like lips and slightly feel like them, too. It’s just a gentle peck, but his whole body trembles.

Luckily he doesn't taste or smell like anything he eats.

I smile and lean back to look at him. "Do you like it?

He stares back silently, like his thoughts are racing. I can see the gears turning in his head.

I chew and swallow the bit of fruit in my mouth and wait for him to answer. It's rare to find a man who hasn't been kissed, but even stranger to find out aliens don't have a concept of kissing.

It's a bit sad.

---