“Can I sit here and watch?”
The happy male asked, his hands resting on his knees as he clutched a small bottle, maintaining a posture of prim and proper attentiveness.
Meanwhile, the female was rummaging around in the corner.
“...”
It was a familiar scene. The last time they were in a similar situation, Sakti had ended up creating the ugliest cocoon nest in the universe.
Squatting before a pile of bricks, the Core-type chuckled. “Go ahead and watch.”
The alliance of the Core Gene groups had only recently been established. Taking advantage of his time off, the black-scaled female had meticulously selected a terrestrial exoplanet to begin building their vacation cottage.
It had taken them nearly two small cycles to finally complete the nest before the planet plunged into the depths of winter. Technology could change lives, and it wouldn't have been impossible to bring in a machine to manifest a house with the click of a button, yet Sakti had chosen to dig the earth himself.
He and Clark worked in shifts. The racial alliance was a mess of loose ends, and the proposal regarding the usage rights for the Time River New Port with the humans was stuck in a state of indefinite deadlock. He was so busy every day that he felt on the verge of death by overwork.
When he finally managed to carve out a vacation, the silver-gray female had warned him before his departure: “If you come back even a day late, I’ll snap your head off. I’m waiting to go to Camluran. If you dare go missing with Roxanne, I’ll make sure your desk is piled high with light-screens needing signatures for the next entire Great Cycle.”
There was no threat in the world more vicious or effective.
There were three days left of the vacation, but Sakti’s lethal perfectionist streak had flared up. Dissatisfied with the existing fireplace, he had chosen to tear down the entire lower half and rebuild it from scratch.
The floor of the nest was covered in many thick, fluffy blankets, with piles of soft cushions scattered about.
This was the male’s favorite arrangement.
Long ago, when they had discussed the topic of a small nest, Gera had hoped for something large but not too cavernous. He didn't want the floors and walls covered in sprawling spiral patterns; instead, he wanted it lined with plenty of soft fabrics so he could roll around inside.
When he first voiced these thoughts, the male had seemed overly embarrassed.
He had lacked such experiences during his larval stage, never having a moment to run freely in a warm little nest, nor daring to squeeze in among strong brothers for a full night's sleep. Consequently, his special obsession with a nest of his own had suddenly manifested.
Earlier, the crude nest Sakti had won during a match on the Energy Star was the first stable residence Gera had ever owned.
He no longer had to worry about being too hungry to sleep, nor did he have to fear being bitten and driven out of the nest by his brothers while he slumbered.
Now, the male sat on a cushion. Since the fireplace hadn't been lit yet, Sakti had attached a miniature heater to him and wrapped him entirely in a blanket.
Gera hugged his small storage bottle tightly, watching his partner make clattering noises.
After returning from Camluran, the Core-type had begun selectively letting him try a bit of human food.
The Zerg’s sense of taste differed from humans; they preferred the fresh scent of raw meat and blood. They didn't particularly care for meals rich in spices and additives, though they could eat them—after all, when this race got desperate, they could gnaw on energy stones.
This didn't mean the two races had nothing in common regarding diet—in fact, most Zerg were quite fond of sweets.
Sugar brought warmth and energy; every living creature loved that taste from the bottom of their heart.
Thus, Sakti had brewed a large batch of eggnog. He hadn't added spices like cinnamon, but instead included a small splash of rum and used honey-dew instead of refined sugar, filling a bottle with the warm drink.
The male flicked his slender, semi-differentiated tongue, clutching the small jar and sipping it bit by bit.
His white scaled tail thwacked happily against the floor, his joy stemming from watching his partner’s working silhouette.
The Core-type was hunched over, laying the fireplace bricks by hand. Zerg materials were top-tier; the thing this race did most often every day was plastering nests, cocoon nests, and King nests... thus, their construction materials were of excellent quality, quick-drying, and fast-setting. Once solidified, they couldn't be pried off. If his movements were even slightly slow, his hand would be solidified right along with the bricks.
A pitch-black tail swayed slightly behind him, wagging in a leisurely arc.
Gera watched as his partner finished rebuilding the fireplace in no time, then hurriedly tossed in fuel to start the fire before finally raising the guard plate.
As the other leaned down, the lines from his neck to his waist twisted into a powerful curve. His stretched limbs hid a potent, fluid explosive force. The firelight swept across that serious face, making the Core-type look like a crouching beast, with the whip-like tail lashing behind him serving as the perfect finishing touch.
The male, not feeling that anything was amiss at all, thought for a few seconds. He then solemnly set down the storage bottle, dragged his large pile of blankets forward while remaining seated, and grabbed that scaled tail.
Confused, Sakti turned back to glance at Gera, thinking he had something to say.
Instead, under the gaze of those golden-brown eyes, the white male scrutinized the object in his hands for a moment before lowering his head to plant a loud kiss on that docile, long tail.
Sakti: “???”
A row of question marks practically popped up over his head.
“What’s wrong?”
As an answer, Gera kissed his tail twice more with a very serious expression.
And he even remembered to give the tail a gentle pat, properly soothing its "emotions."
Fine.
Now Sakti could confirm that his partner was drunk.
There were only a few drops of rum in the eggnog; the Core-type had completely failed to anticipate this outcome.
Yet the other looked perfectly solemn, not even smiling, performing these nonsensical acts with an expression full of conviction.
“It’s very good,” Gera said slowly to Sakti, his entire body still seated on the floor, sunken into the fluffy blankets, a hint of daze appearing in his pale eyes. “It’s exceptionally good.”
It took repeating it twice for the black female to realize that the “it” he was referring to was the whip-tail being held tightly.
Gera had already let go of the storage bottle he was holding. The bottle rolled onto the floor, instantly auto-sealing itself as it was swept into an inconspicuous corner.
Finding it amusing, the Core-type felt the urge to tease him.
“Tell me then, what’s so good about it?” He smiled, challenging the male who had lost his sharp reflexes and logical thinking. “I think it’s not good at all. It’s quite annoying, wagging around all day.”
“You shouldn't say that.”
The dazed look gradually faded, and Gera pulled a long face, looking as if he had returned to normal at first glance. But his words and actions were on completely different axes.
A lecturing tone, full of logic and facts, was being applied to something absurd.
“Your evaluation lacks objectivity.”
“It makes me happy, so it is a good tail.”
“...”
Before Sakti could ask if this "happiness" was the wholesome kind, the other had already grabbed his hand and, following his own example, placed it on his own slightly swaying, slender white scaled tail. Even his usually timid tail-hook was proactively offered up, tucked into Sakti’s palm.
The male solemnly performed a ceremonial exchange of tails.
“When we’re ***, the tail *** is very comfortable.”
What kind of scandalous talk was this?
In an instant, the dark female experienced a loss for words he hadn't felt in two lifetimes.
He had underestimated this little lecher’s level of honesty.
“But I like you more,” the stubborn male continued, not knowing when to quit, talking to himself. “Even without a tail or wings, I still like you the most.”
“You are the unique, best Sakti in this world, whom I like so much I want to hold and kiss you every day.”
Gera had even learned how to provide examples while praising, pouring out words of admiration like a waterfall.
“Watching you build the fireplace, the base of my tail got wet.”
“You are so good-looking, powerful and beautiful.”
He reached out to touch his own lower abdomen, then showed a look of slight surprise: “I’m heating up.”
This topic could not continue.
Sakti’s head was buzzing.
In the future, he absolutely could not let his partner touch alcohol in any setting where there were other people or other Zerg. But at this moment, there were only the two of them in this small nest. Thus, the Core-type couldn't restrain his own mischievous nature in the end. While tidying up the used tools, he deliberately said the opposite of what he felt.
“So you only like me because I’m good-looking? If my scales were no longer glossy and bright, and my limbs were no longer strong and powerful, would you still—”
Before he could finish, the male suddenly stood up, the abruptness of the movement startling Sakti.
The other walked slowly toward him, stood still for a moment, and finally threw his arms around the Core-type’s neck.
“I would.”
Speaking in a very small voice, Gera clung to the black female, his arms hugging him very, very tightly.
His little tail wagged gently.
“I would. I’m very capable now. I manage the Great Information Nest, and they can’t bully me anymore, so I can protect you.”
“I’m not afraid, and I can endure pain. I will work very, very hard to keep you healthy.”
Because his logical thinking was muddled, these words were a bit jumbled, but Sakti understood.
Deep in his heart, Gera always harbored a sliver of anxiety regarding their race.
The nature of the Zerg was such; they were born in slaughter and died in slaughter. Weakness and illness meant powerlessness, and it meant falling into a miserable state after being culled.
He was worried that his omnipotent partner would be bullied one day in the future. So the male had always been incredibly hardworking, pushing himself to the point where even if he exceeded his limits or lost consciousness from blood loss, he had to take control of the Great Information Nest—Gera wanted to protect him in the same way, leveling the road before Sakti could accidentally trip over any unforeseen rifts.
“Roxanne.”
Calling out the other’s name, Sakti held the fragrant, warm white male. His fingers gently caressed the other’s cheek.
“Open your mouth. I want to kiss you.”
The transformative effect of a "love-brain" on a human was immense.
The former Supreme Ruler could once fight ten enemies alone in a mecha even with a broken leg. The hardest thing in the universe wasn't the outer shell of a Red Tai-sui, but his mouth; no one could hope to bend his iron-straight back.
Yet now, he had instinctively learned how to use sweet talk.
“No Zerg can bully you except me,” he whispered. “And right now, I want to do something very, very bad.”
In response, Gera knocked over all the small blankets with a *thud*. His tail wagged so fast it became a blur, and his wings fluttered slightly.
Alcohol had emboldened the usually timid Zerg.
He pushed Sakti onto his back onto the floor covered in soft fabrics. The fireplace was still making faint crackling sounds, and outside was a cold winter night.
The drunken male straddled the other, making a grand declaration happily and fearlessly.
“Proposal approved.”
Judging by his self-righteousness, he had no idea that in a moment, he would be chirping and begging for mercy.
“Come bully me!”
***
