Intersteller Cohabitation for Dummies
Copyright© 2025 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 4: The Talk
Marcus didn’t sleep.
He lay in bed until dawn, his mind racing through every interaction, every moment, every touch over the past two weeks. The gift shelf that was actually a courtship display. The nest that was territory claiming. His shirt that was scent-marking. The tail-petting that was intimate bonding. The ear-scratching that was mate-level grooming.
The teat massage that was ... oh god, he couldn’t even think about that without his face heating up.
By the time sunlight started creeping through his blinds, Marcus had made a decision.
They needed to talk.
Really talk.
No more misunderstandings. No more accidental courtship. No more pretending that what was happening was just “friendly roommate behavior.”
He needed to know: Did she actually want HIM? Or was this just vulpine instinct, seeing a convenient male in her living space and initiating courtship protocols automatically?
And more importantly—the question that had kept him up all night—what did HE actually want?
Marcus got up, showered, got dressed. Tried to prepare himself for what might be the most important conversation of his life.
When he emerged from his room, he found Vera already awake, sitting in her nest, wearing his shirt as usual. But this time, the sight of her in his clothes hit differently.
She was wearing his scent.
Publicly claiming him.
Showing anyone who saw her that she’d chosen him.
“Morning,” she said softly, her ears perking up. But there was something in her expression—a wariness, a nervousness. Like she could sense something had shifted.
“Morning,” Marcus replied. “Can we ... can we talk? Seriously talk?”
Vera’s tail stopped mid-swish. Her ears flattened slightly.
“About what?” But her voice was small, like she already knew.
“About us. About what’s actually happening here.”
There was a long pause. Then Vera stood, her tail wrapping around herself protectively.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, yes. We should talk.”
They sat facing each other—Marcus on the couch, Vera in her nest on the floor. The TV was off. The apartment was quiet except for the ambient city sounds drifting through the window.
Marcus took a deep breath.
“I googled vulpine courtship rituals last night.”
Vera’s ears shot straight up. Her eyes went wide.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Oh.” Marcus ran a hand through his hair. “So. The gifts I’ve been accepting and displaying? That’s ... that’s accepting courtship advances. Right?”
Vera’s ears flattened against her head. She nodded, not meeting his eyes.
“And you building your nest here, in front of my couch, where I spend most of my time? That’s claiming territory? Establishing yourself in my space?”
Another nod. Smaller.
“And wearing my shirt every day—that’s scent-marking. That’s you marking yourself as ... as mine?”
“Yes,” Vera whispered.
“And the tail-petting? The ear-scratching? Those are intimate behaviors. Things that vulpine mates do together.”
“Yes.”
“And yesterday, when I...” Marcus’s voice caught. “When I massaged your stomach. Those weren’t sore muscles. Those were...”
“Teats,” Vera said, her voice barely audible. “You were ... you were touching my teats. Which are very sensitive. And which vulpine females only let their mates touch.”
“Right.” Marcus exhaled slowly. “So by vulpine cultural standards ... we’ve been courting. Seriously courting. For two weeks.”
Vera finally looked up at him, and her golden eyes were swimming with unshed tears.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I thought— when I applied for the program, I thought it was a mate-matching service. The way the contract was worded, about cohabitation and bonding, I just assumed—”
“That humans were looking for cross-species partners.”
“Yes! And when you accepted me into your home, and when you touched my tail on the first day, I thought—” Her voice hitched. “In vulpine culture, touching someone’s tail without permission is incredibly forward. It’s basically a proposal. So when you did it twice in the first five minutes, I thought you were being very enthusiastic about—”
“About marrying you,” Marcus finished.
“Bonding, we call it, but yes. Essentially.” Vera’s tail wrapped tighter around herself. “And then you let me nest in your space, and you kept all my gifts, and you petted my tail every night, and you groomed my ears, and yesterday you...” She made a choked sound. “You touched me so gently, so carefully, and you offered to do it again, and I thought—”
She broke off, pressing her hands to her face.
“I thought you wanted me,” she whispered. “I thought we were building something. I thought you were courting me back. I thought—” A sob escaped. “I thought you knew.”
Marcus felt something crack open in his chest.
“Vera,” he said softly.
“But you didn’t know. None of it meant what I thought it meant. You were just being nice. Being friendly. Being a good roommate. And I was over here planning our bonding ceremony and thinking about kits and—” She laughed wetly. “God, I’m so stupid. I’m so, so stupid.”
“Vera, look at me.”
She shook her head, ears flat, tail curled protectively around herself.
“Please.”
Slowly, reluctantly, she raised her head. Tears streaked down her freckled cheeks. Her ears were pressed flat against her head. She looked absolutely miserable.
Marcus’s heart did something complicated in his chest.
“I need to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me.”
Vera nodded, sniffling.
“Is this ... is what you feel for me ... is it real? Or is it just instinct? Just biology seeing a convenient male in your territory and initiating courtship protocols?”
Vera’s expression shifted from misery to something fierce.
“You think I would spend two weeks courting someone out of INSTINCT?” Her ears came forward slightly. “You think I would give you my treasures, wear your scent, let you touch me, open myself to you completely, just because you were CONVENIENT?”
“I don’t know,” Marcus said honestly. “I don’t know how vulpine bonding works. I don’t know if—”
“I chose you,” Vera said, her voice trembling but strong. “From the moment I saw your profile in the program applications, I chose you. The way you described yourself—kind, curious, interested in learning about other cultures. The way you smiled in your photo. Something in me just ... knew.”
She pulled his shirt tighter around herself.
“And then I met you in person and you were gentle with my tail even though you didn’t know what it meant. You gave me space to set up my nest without questioning it. You kept every gift I gave you like they were precious. You touched me so carefully, so sweetly. You made me breakfast and asked about my day and watched boxing with me even though you could tell I didn’t understand the rules at first.”
Her tail unwrapped slightly.
“You scratched my ears and I felt safe. You petted my tail and I felt cherished. You touched my...” She flushed. “Yesterday, when you touched me, you were so gentle and concerned and caring, and I thought—” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I thought, this is the male I want to have kits with. This is the male I want to build a den with. This is MY male.”
She met his eyes directly.
“So no, Marcus. This isn’t instinct. This is me falling in love with a human who is so obliviously, frustratingly, adorably kind that he accidentally courted me for two weeks without realizing it.”
The apartment was silent except for Vera’s ragged breathing and Marcus’s thundering heartbeat.
“You love me,” Marcus said.
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” Vera said simply. “I love you. I have for days now. Maybe since the moment you touched my tail and smiled at me like I was something precious. I love you, and I know you don’t feel the same way, and I’ll find somewhere else to stay, I’ll explain to the program, I’ll—”
“Vera.”
She stopped mid-sentence.
Marcus stood up from the couch. Walked over to where she sat in her nest. And slowly, carefully, lowered himself down to sit beside her.
“I spent all night awake,” he said quietly. “Reading about vulpine courtship. Understanding what everything meant. Realizing what I’d been doing without knowing it.”
Vera’s ears were forward now, focused entirely on him.
“And the thing is,” Marcus continued, “when I realized what the gifts meant? My first thought wasn’t ‘oh no.’ It was ‘oh, that’s why she looked so happy when I kept them.’”
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