“I…” Just want to be friends? Have personal space boundaries? Have a boyfriend?!?!

”Was dat..” even allowed? The best you got? Where she thought this was going?

Panic gripped Zinnia and once again she cursed her time away getting out of practice reading the non-standard facial expressions. She was pretty sure mouth wide open was shock on any face though. The creeping up the steps seemed like embarrassment, or fear. Had she scared her off? Stepped so far over the line it was a dot to her?

Then her face was engulfed by a massive hand and her fears skittered away as antennae brushed gently against her hair. Jac’s eyes were respectfully closed, but Zinnina found herself unable to look away from the shimmering blues and greens of her did-this-make-her-her-girlfriend?-’s shell. Was Jac blushing? Something touched her cheek. She was too close to see it, but it definitely wasn’t a finger from the massive hand holding her still.

She closed her own eyes and tilted her chin up to meet… nothing.

She waited a beat then opened her eyes to Jac’s confession. Oh. This was tricky. She tilted her hand to catch the sliding primary hand as it slid down her arm and she held it tightly, her hand clamped fully around one of the large fingers.

“Maybe…” "'erhats," She halted to let the prawn finish what she was saying. She felt her own position on the matter was pretty clear. "We could... sig-ure it out?” Yeeeeeees. ”Inside?". The keys had never been retrieved so quickly and the door swung open. She tossed them at the entry table and placed the noodles far more carefully than her pounding heart wanted her to on the dining table. Her hand never let go and she practically dragged her friend into the house.

Not that she could have moved her if she didn’t want to go. Which meant she wanted to go.

“I’m game if you’re game.”

She surveyed the height difference and planned her attack. Making careful note of the face spikes she mirrored the cheek holding from a few moments earlier.

“But you have to come down here.”

Or she would have to fetch a stool from somewhere. She would totally do it too. Maybe she should start wearing platform heels? She tilted her face up towards the mandibles. They could figure this out. They had all evening. Or at least until the noodles cooled.

Jack was powerless to the determined young woman. She was hardly able to snag the duffle bag in time before Zinnia led her inside-- she dropped the duffel just inside the front door, followed Zinnia into the dining room. Jack hunched lower to cross thresholds from one room to the next, keeping pace with her dear friend. Never once, was the prawn's hand released. The noodles were, but Zinnia's tiny hand was latched onto a finger of Jack's.


Jack chuckled timidly. Well, she had suggested "figuring things out". She had signed herself up for this, whatever this was. This must've been what kids felt like with their first relationship. Uncertain. Excited. Intrigued. Everything new.

>> “I’m game if you’re game. But you have to come down here.”

Another timid laugh. Jack nestled her face against Zinnia's hand, obediently lowering her head closer. Smiling eyes surveyed Zinnia's features, part admiration and part puzzling. Any imagined interaction of lips and mouthparts seemed so invasive and strange. Unnatural. Surgical, even. There weren't even lips to lock.

"I's ne'er tried to kiss any-unn," Jack reiterated, "Not as-ter ny nyu-tation started. Is... really new."

Her gaze dropped again. One would think someone as large and as gruff as Jack would know what they wanted and demand it, back Jack was quite the contrary. She was so careful and unsure. Baby steps, Jack told herself, just take baby steps.

The prawn nuzzled Zinnia's cheek, a hand gently caressing the back of Zinnia's head. Try doing something kiss-like. Inquiringly, Jack nibbled at her friend's neck. In a way, the gesture was more intimate than a simple kiss, but in another, it was easier. Less invasive, from Jack's point of view.

"How do you like nee?" Jack mumbled. Both "how" as in "how was it possible", and as in "in what way". What were they? Why did Zinnia kiss her? Jack peppered her friend's neck with gentle nibbles as she awaited any answer.

To be fair- things were a little new for her too. She was used to soft lips, maybe a little difference between them, like moustache or lipstick, but still very lipish. Nothing quite like the mandibles that confronted her now. She was willing to give it a go- mash faces until something like kissing happened. Jac seemed contented to take it slower. She shivered at the tickling against her neck, but leant into it.

“Hmmm, because you’re beautiful,” she paused to peck the cheek closest to her, mindful not to get spiked, “and sweet,” more kisses across her temple, “and I want to be more than friends.”

Obviously.

She guided Jac’s chin towards her, scanning the big purple eyes for permission before trying a more front-on approach. She had seen Jac eat before, so she knew a little about the mouth structure but not intimately. Not as intimately as this, for sure. The largest pair of mandibles moved aside as she tilted in- as if to grip the sides of her face and keep her steady (these were for eating after all) but within there were smaller pairs, and these was what she focussed her attention on. Her hands skittered gently over the rainbow carapace, dodging spines and following the grooves that allowed movement. After a few moments she drew back for air, even though she didn’t really need to, to check in again. It was amazingly heard to properly look at someone you were that close to.

“Is that ok?” The kissing? The being more than friends? “Do you want to slow down and have some noodles?”

Because really, what went better with awkward advances at a relationship than noodles?

>> “Hmmm, because you’re beautiful, and sweet, and I want to be more than friends.”

The carapace was fairly effective at dulling any sensation of the little pecks, but Jack could still feel her temperature growing feverish. Zinnia was so kind to her. So gentle. The most physical interaction Jack usually got was breaking up fights and being incidentally-clobbered. Jack didn't want to be that obnoxious friend who tried to refute every compliment that was sailed her way, but she was understandably doubtful. Beautiful? Hardly. Sweet? Maybe to Zinnia. Other acquaintances were hardly so lucky, as to call Jack sweet.

The prawn churred quietly, her mandibles fluttering at the sound as Zinnia redirected her attention. Lavender eyes surveyed deep brown ones. Jack was close enough to see flecks of amber in her friend's irises. Zimmia leaned in and Jack cautiously took the cue to spread her mandibles, the outermost mouthparts. There was so much to pay attention to, and the prawn was hyper-aware of all of it. The wandering hands that traced lines along her shell-- Jack would respond with meek trembling whenever the boldly venturing hands found gaps in the carapace... the crook in Jack's arm, for example, or her unarmored throat.

She was also hyper-aware of the position of her mouthparts-- she kept her mandibles, the anterior part of her mouth and most powerful appendage at play, uninvolved. Jack would never want to hurt Zinnia. Her maxillae, however, were more audacious-- they were small appendages with tiny palps upon them, sensitive to taste and touch and far more capable of gentle touches. Better suited for kissing, if you could call it that.

Whatever it was, it was pleasant, and Jack found her own hand venturing from the back of her friend's head, to the small of her friend's back. This was so surreal, and yet, so nice. Zinnia withdrew, leaving a prawn in deep smit.

>> “Is that ok? Do you want to slow down and have some noodles?”

Which starvation was more imperative to address? On one hand, Jack craved the proximity and physical contact that Zinnia was providing, taking in the curious touches and affection greedily. On the other hand, noodles held a certain appeal. Jack was inclined to go along with what Zinnia wanted to do, but it was impossible to read what her dearest friend genuinely wanted.

"Nore zan okay wiss nee," Jack confirmed, lightly brushing her friend's cheek with the knuckle of a finger on her primary hand, "Dis isn't too weird sore you, doh? Is okay wit' you? Wit' dis situation? Wit' nee?"

"Should eat noodles sooner or later..." was the polite response to Zinnia's follow-up question, "No rush ei'er doh."

The little purrs and shivers only encouraged her in her quest to ‘figure this out’ as it were. And it was undoubtly kissing now. A little extraordinary but hey, Jac was an extraordinary kind of girl. Her hands rested neatly on the top of the chest armour, fingertips tracing the outline of a collarbone. Most of the times she had brushed, bumped or touched against her friend had been the solid exterior of the shell. She perhaps had touched against this softer skin once or twice when they were making the costume, but never with such intention. It was nice, and it felt like a metaphor.

Jac answered her question in the affirmative before asking her own and a thrill ran down her spine to linger under the massive hand that rested there. Was it ok? It was so much more than ok. And they’d waited long enough, the noodles could wait a little longer.

“Very ok with me,” she agreed, leaning in for round two, “and I wouldn’t choose anywhere or anyone else.”

Ok, well maybe not the middle of her parents living room, and she would have brought some flowers if she’d thought this was going to be on the cards. She’d hoped, sure. Daydreamed even. But the reality of it was so much better.

-x-x-x-

Several minutes passed in gradually more confident kisses across maxillae and the softer parts of neck and throat before the smell of the noodles permeated through to the spare part of her brain. Consider it figured. She drew back a little before bumping foreheads gently with the prawn.

“I’ll grab us some plates.”

She moved to the sideboard, keeping one eye on the prawn as she did so. Part longing to go back and push the noodles off for a few more minutes, part fleeting concern that Jac would be too shaken by her forwardness and take the opportunity to bolt.

"You doing ok?"

It was a blissful few minutes. Perhaps it'd even been an hour-- it was hard to keep track of something as trivial as time, when one was in the heat of making out. Zinnia seemed so comfortable and unphased by the prawn that stood before her, and that made the young woman even more precious to Jack.

A light bump on her head stirred Jack from the lull of thoughts that swam in her head. Her mouthparts found their niches once again as Zinnia withdrew.

>> “I’ll grab us some plates.”

"O-kay," Jack clicked, although her brain whined a quiet "noooo" at the announcement. Lavender eyes followed Zinnia into kitchen, but the prawn stayed rooted where she'd been left. When she caught Zinnia's gaze, Jack glanced shyly away, fixing her attention on the couch instead. Her heart wanted to trail after Zinnia like a lost puppy, but Jack's brain told her to play it cool. The prawn shuffled over to the couch and gingerly took a seat.

She might've been "playing it cool", but the expression upon her face betrayed her. While Zinnia was warily keeping track of Jack, Jack was fondly and conspicuously watching her dear friend move about the kitchen.

>> "You doing ok?"

Now that the two of them were inside, and now that Zinnia had eased her way past the anxiety surrounding intimacy, the last thought on Jack's mind was bolting. Sure, she was still self-conscious about her mouthparts, but Zinnia's tenderness had dispelled most of the prawns' concerns over Zinnia's own comfort level.

"Yeah," the prawn trilled, "Doing great."

It was apparent in her tone that she was smiling. If that wasn't an indicator, the coy chuckle and the cheeky remark of, "It'd seen dat you nissed nee," would hopefully clear any doubts about Jack's inclination to stay.

The prawn was all-smirk and perfectly contented with her spot on the couch. Jack swam in the thought of being dearly missed, of being kissed and caressed and... well, loved. Not attacked, not shunned, but simply and innocently loved... and the thought alone sent a flush rushing to her face her heart a-stuttering. How lucky. How utterly surreal.

”Doing great.” Well then, that was both of them.

The missing, as much as the kissing, seemed to have been mutual and she chuckled along with her friend as she placed the dishes on the table and served out some portions into them. Her anxieties about pushing Jac too far too fast subdued. Everything was going to be OK.

“Of course, didn’t you miss me too?” She teased.

She set the dishes on the coffee table and scooched up next to her friend, but not before dusting some more kisses across the top of her head. She needed her hands and her mouth for the noodles, but she paused every few bites to touch an elbow, a hip, a shoulder. Every time her fingers met with solidity, rather than everything shifting and disappearing like in a dream she became more confident that this was real, that she hadn’t just dozed off on the bus and was dreaming up this incredibleness.

“and noodles, I missed real noodles too.”

Because it was getting a little heavy and she wanted to make sure this was not escalating just yet. She didn’t want to blow anything by being too eager. They had been friends for months, she could take it slow on the girlfriend front. Even if the blush creeping over her (girl)friend’s face was almost irresistible.

“Would you like to stay over?”

Because there was a certain memory of being held tightly in those massive arms that kept resurfacing. Plus it was moving towards evening and now that she was back and didn’t have to be alone she sure as heck didn’t want to be. She’d spent enough time cooped up in her room by herself studying and eating pot noodles while she was away. Now it was time for cuddles.

>> “Of course, didn’t you miss me too?”

Jack hummed, as if giving the question serious consideration. She watched Zinnia with teasing eyes, her mandibles curling in a smirk. Of course she missed Zinnia-- she was Jack's dearest (re: only) friend. Finally the prawn laughed, as Zinnia set the plates of food down, and the prawn conceded, "I did. It gets ... en-ty... wiss-out you around."

More kisses were peppered upon the prawn's head, which earned a contented series of clicks. Typically, when Jack sat away from a dining table to eat and she was in the privacy of her home, she would remove her shirt in order to let her secondary hands hold the fragile dinner plate. Her primary hands were too large and clumsy and many a-plate lost their lives to the prawn's grip. Given that they had just been so affectionate to one another, however, Jack was very bashful in the process of removing her tank top. Which was worse, though? Taking your shirt off in front of Zinnia, or breaking her parents' plate? The latter, of course.

Jack shed her shirt and set it aside, before gingerly retrieving the plate from the coffee table. Primary hand passed the plate to the secondary pair, and Jack leaned back. She ate quietly, pinching the fork in one primary hand. Occasionally Zinnia would lightly touch Jack and the prawn would shift her gaze towards her, purring faintly. She couldn't feel the touches but she saw the movement in her periphery each time.

Though three of her hands were preoccupied with eating, her fourth arm--the primary arm closest to Zinnia-- was free. Jack maneuvered her free arm around Zinnia and draped it over the back of the couch. With her free hand, she traced lines on her fiend's arm and continued to eat.

>> “Would you like to stay over?”

"I'd like dat 'ery nuch," Jack said, without missing a beat. Despite being hindered by the fork, she managed to clean the plate rather efficiently. Having finished, the primary hand that wasn't tucked around Zinnia replaced the plate on the coffee table. Jack then righted herself, lightly nestling her face in Zinnia's shoulder as she waited for her friend to finish eating.

She paused- forkful of noodle swaying dangerously between plate and mouth as the shirt was abandoned.

Was that?

Oh, of course. The little arms stretched to retrieve the plate and she turned her attention back to her food. Silly Zinnia. She hadn’t forgotten the second set of arms, cooped up within the shirt. Her mind had just been fuzzy from all the kissing. She waited for her heart to stop racing as she slowly consumed the noodles. There was nothing to see (except more of the rainbow shell) but she found her eyes darting back to the exposed chest over and over. She was just so shiny.

Having four sets of hands really made mealtime pass much quicker than if you only had two. Particularly if one of those two was distracted by tracing the armour plates of someone else. And if the other was busy getting goosebumps from being lightly stroked. Jac’s plate of food was well gone by the time Zinn finished hers. She slid it onto the table and drew her feet up so she was curled up partly on Jac’s lap. She wiggled in so she was curled up mostly under Jac’s arm.

“Umm, more practicing?”

Garlic breath be damned.

Zinnia finished her meal and likewise deposited her plate on the coffee table, nestling close against Jack’s side. She closed her eyes cheerfully. Cute.

>> “Umm, more practicing?”

Was that even a question? Despite the noodle-breath that both women now boasted, Jack was more than ready to “practice more”.

“Yes ‘lease,” Jack replied lightly. The two of them readjusted, got comfortable, and resumed where they’d left off. From the couch, Jack surrendered even more control of the situation. Her hands wandered, their venture punctuated by timid, “Dis okay?” ‘s every so often, before resuming their meandering. Jack focused her efforts along Zinnia’s sides, back, arms, neck and shoulders… too bashful to really dare letting her hands wander anywhere else.

Time galloped past without any forewarning, leaving both women in its wake. Jack broke the kiss when she realized that the room had darkened around them, and that the clock had climbed into the upper double-digit hours.

“I sink we could win duh gold, iss we enter a con’etition,” Jack teased, lightly nibbling at her dear friend’s neck once again, “We’s ‘ery well ‘racticed, wouldn’t you say?”

While Jacks’ eyes could see Zinnia well enough, albeit in tones of grey, she wasn’t sure if her friend could see in the darkness. Jack ran a hand over Zinnia’s leg, before lightly using her primary hand to steady her friend. She didn’t want Zinnia falling off of her lap, nor did she want her friend tripping in the dark.

“Let nee get duh light,” Jack insisted. The prawn leaned over, massive hand finding the knob to twist to turn the light on, “Close your eyes.”

The prawn likewise shut her eyes and click-click, the room was plunged into a week yellow light, which would gradually strengthen as the light warmed-up. Jack righted herself, releasing her hold on Zinnia’s leg, The smaller mutant sat perched on Jack’s lap, looking comfortably rumpled, as lovers sometimes did.

“Wanna try slee’ing?” Jack murmured to Zinnia, lightly taking one of her friend’s hands and brushing her thumb over it. Jack couldn’t, with a good conscience, keep Zinnia up too late after the other young woman had spent hours on a bus today, “You slee’y yet?”

For every ‘Dis okay?” there was a matching murmur of agreement and Zinnia’s own fingers found their way across the dips and cracks along the shell pieces. Jac seemed most responsive to touches to the softer skin between the harder carapace sections so this was where her fingers explored, careful not to be pinched between in any moments of movement. Her arms weren’t wide enough to stretch fully around the barrel chest of her couch mate, but she fit snugly in the enormous lap.

They would definitely win a gold for sure- but how could they be judged? It would seem their technique would have to be shared with someone else. Zinn for one was not interested in going back to standard lips. Ever heard the phrase ‘new and improved’? That was Jac’s kisses.

“Well you know what they say about practice and perfect. 10 outta 10”

And this was pretty much perfect.

Except she kind of wished she had brushed her teeth. Just a little.

She could just see the sillouhette of her friend against the pale backdrop of the living room wall and with her mouth currently occupied with Zinn’s neck in all tickly glory she had to find a new target. An antenna presented itself as Jac’s head tilted and she gently nommed it. It was impossible to tell how sensitive different bits were- so she exercised extreme caution to keep teeth well out of the picture.

Her eyes adjusted slowly and she blinked them into focus as Jac suggested sleep. Zinnia might have protested, but since the prawn had already agreed to stay the night, there was no point in delaying the inevitable. Was she sleepy? Yes, under all the thrill of energy and the disappointment at the prospect of hiding her face away in her sleeping mask she was sleepy.

“Mmmhmm.” She agreed. “The couch folds out- I’ll grab a blanket.”

It was warm enough that they probably didn’t need one, but being curled up under the covers was so much nicer. She lingered a moment within the lap, planting a few more kisses on the exposed underside of Jac’s neck before hauling herself up to brush the aforementioned teeth and retrieve her CPap machine. She pointed out the lever to fold out the couch and disappeared into the bathroom. After a couple minutes grinning at herself in the mirror (not only to ensure she got every tooth) she emerged in a longish shirt with the CPap machine tucked under her arm. A minor wrangle with the powerpoint behind the couch and a light blanket retrieved later and she was ready for cuddle time. Sleep would perhaps follow.

As Jack leaned over to reach the lamp, one of her antennae coincidentally brushed Zinnia’s face, which the other young woman saw fit to nibble toothlessly upon. The prawn jumped and let out a surprised shout, quickly brushing a hand over her antennae and out of Zinnia’s reach. Her antennae with covered in fine hairs and miniscule scales, and incredibly sensitive—for the most part, the only time Jack’s antennae got any attention was when they were accidentally slammed in cabinets or doors. This happened very rarely, but it was painful enough that should anyone (re: Zinnia) touch them, Jack’s initial reaction was one of pain.

It didn’t take too long for Jack to realize that the touch had come from Zinnia, and had been intentional if not a touch inquisitive.

“Y-you… sur’rised nee,” Jack chastised lightly, her hand remaining atop her head as the warm light flooded the room. “Sorry sore yelling.”

Jack deigned to admit that, with forewarning, she wouldn’t mind Zinnia investigating her antennae once again. Not by surprise, though. Jack warbled at the parting kisses, and roused herself once Zinnia left to do whatever Zinnia’s did before bed. The prawn gathered dishes and carried them to the kitchen sink. Once there, she drank some water from the faucet, before making her way back to the couch. Slide the coffee table out of the way, remove couch cushions and pillows…

It was there that Jack stopped. She’d never been able to figure these things out, as a child. She remembered her mother standing by the couch and proclaiming, “It’s easy!” and grabbing the legs, unfolding it just like that, and bam. Finito. It was never “just that easy”. Ever. Even as an adult Jack couldn’t make sense of the thing. At least she tried.

Jack collapsed on the love seat, deciding to await the return of Zinnia, who was likely better versed about opening hide-a-bed’s. Jack stretched out, legs hanging off the edge of the loveseat, casting a jokingly listless gaze towards Zinnia as she returned to the living room. Her dear friend donned an oversized shirt and toted the CPap along with her. Jack sat up slowly, kicking her legs to the front of the love seat. Lavender eyes drank in her friend’s appearance, before turning to her own attire. There were little spikes on her pants for added punk flair, which might poke into Zinnia if they were sleeping. Jack retrieved her tank top, which had been thrown to the floor while she removed the coupons, and she wriggled back into it. Somehow shimmying out of her pants seemed less audacious with a shirt on. Jack undid her belt, and shimmied free of the cargo shorts, standing before her dear friend in a loose tank top and boxers.

Though usually quite forward about her dress and undress, Jack felt uncharacteristically bashful.

“Couldn’t sig-ure out duh couch,” the prawn rumbled lamely, rubbing the back of her neck.

If she thought her heart was racing before, Jac’s shout nearly burst it from her chest. She held back the urge to shriek in agreement (just) - about the unseen terror and instead gaped at her friend. Her initial thought was that her brother’s snake had somehow escaped and made its way to the livingroom to slither across Jac’s neck. Once she realised she had been the cause of it, and that Jac wasn’t hurt she dissolved into adrenaline-fueled giggles. Hand clutched against her chest keeping her heart from pounding free.

“You surprised me too!” That wasn’t the half of it- thankfully the bus had had a bathroom which she’d visited, otherwise there might have been an accident. “I’m sorry to startle you. Did it… hurt?”

The thought that she could inflict injury or even discomfort (other than the squirms of awkwardness from PDAs) on her massive friend had never crossed her mind. She scurried to her ablutions with resolve to be more careful about any bits that were less, more, different than human. Which was all of her. So she would have to just be careful. Suddenly the repeated checks for comfort made a lot more sense, and she was abashed that she hadn’t afforded Jac the same courtesy.

She waited until the guilt subsided before returning to the living room. She would not be the abuser as much as she would never again be the abused.

Jac’s playful demeanour set her mind at ease and the shimmying into something a little more comfortable set her mind down a totally different path. She steered it back on track for taking things slowly.

“Couldn’t sig-ure out duh couch,”

Oh.

Oh dear.

You see, when she had lived here permanently she had a bed in her room, and every time she had slept over since moving out the couch had already been folded out. She didn’t know how to work the thing.

“Umm. Me either…”

Her eyes cast about for a solution. She wasn’t about to offer her parent’s bed, and the thought of splitting into the brothers’ bunkbeds was not at all in line with her plans for physical contact.

“Pillow nest?”

The pile of cushions removed from the large couch made it already half way there, and with the pillows of the smaller single seaters unceremoniously dumped into the mix there was a veritable carpet of squishy floor covering. Atop the actual carpet.

She scooched down into the pillows and patted the space beside herself. There was plenty of space for two. More than enough when they were going to be as close as she intended.

“Will your little arms be squished?” she set the breathing machine to a gentle rumble in the background, looking intently at the dials to hide her blush. “Cause I can look away…?” and once they were under the blanket there would be nothing to see anyway.

“I’m sorry about your antenna, I should have asked.”

Although she was pretty sure there was no sexy way to say ‘antenna’.

>> “You surprised me too! I’m sorry to startle you. Did it… hurt?”

"N-no," Jack had stammered, "Dey just get--" she made the pinching motion with her thumb and primary finger "--a lot, y'know?"

>> “Umm. Me either… Pillow nest?”

"Mmmm... sure," Jack replied, gears turning. With the carapace and all, sleeping on the floor was less uncomfortable for her than most. The risk of certain parts going numb was less of a concern when hardly any part of you was squishy. Zinnia, however, was quite squishy, so the floor might be uncomfortable for her. Jack surveyed the cushions contemplatively... then again, there were a lot of cushions.

As Zinnia fussed with the CPap, Jack carefully took a seat in the pillow-nest. This was a much better alternative to a hide-a-bed... Jack didn't need to worry about fitting (couches were often too short) or the weight limitations when sleeping on the floor

>> “Will your little arms be squished? Cause I can look away…?”

"You don't has to!" Jack protested, a little too eagerly. One mandible rubbed against the other, as though she were contemplating her words, "I just... did not know iss it would 'e alright to slee' shirtless. Didn' want you to 'e un-con-sortable or any-sing."

Said the prawn who had just had a shirtless make-out session with the person she was addressing. Sleeping was far more vulnerable a situation, however. And, if Zinnia was a conservative sleeper, the prawn didn't want to be awaiting her in a more scant bedtime ensemble.

"I can take ny shirt oss iss it's okay wiss you," the prawn reiterated.

>> “I’m sorry about your antenna, I should have asked.”

"No need to say sorry," Jack mumbled, brushing the knuckle of a primary hand against Zinnia's arm. The prawn chirred. There was a note of worry creeping into her tone, causing her to speak more and more hastily, "It just sur'rised nee is all. Ny antenna are su'er sensiti'e, a-an I close den in duh door sun-tines so I sought nay'e I got den stuck 'etween duh couch an duh wall or sun-sing... you didn't hurt nee at all. In sact it can 'e really nice when sun-one touches den I just ne'er had anyone touch den and nean too. No one e'er neans to when dey-"

Well, when they touched her. Any for of contact was often coincidental, and anyone who had this misfortune of bumping shoulders with her or accidentally bumping into her usually jumped aside as if stung. The prawn didn't think that it bothered her-- a wide berth made it easier to get to where she was going-- but maybe, deep down, she craved the same kind of closeness that humans and human-passing mutants took for granted. Or maybe not-so deep down. That was why it was so nice to share an evening like this with Zinnia... they were close to each other and, spare the newness and excitement of a first kiss, it was a comfortable and almost normal encounter.

Jack pinched her nasal bridge and averted her gaze. Her heart was hammering, and the realization of that sent a thrill of embarrassment through the prawn.

"I can get duh light, when you're ready," Jack said lamely.

You don’t has to!” Oh-ho, so that’s how it was, was it? She ducked her head to hide her grin as the prawn stumbled through her embarrassment. Zinnia doubted that Jac could make her uncomfortable. Unless maybe if she sat on her.

Jac rumbled through her explanation reassuring Zinn that all was well in antenna-land. She winced when the door-crunching was mentioned. That sounded awful. Although by the sounds of things this was perhaps an avenue to be explored. The antennae that is, not the door slamming.

She knelt, one hand gripping the face mask ready to apply it- the other reaching out to touch Jac’s chin to encourage her to look at her.

“Hey. I mean to.” She grinned. “And I don’t mind the shirtlessness at all.”

If fact if she was bolder she might have offered to join her. That may have been a bit too much though. She was taking it slow, she re-reminded herself. But not too slow! She tugged the hem of the singlet playfully, and met with no resistance, helped to free the secondary appendages.

Freedom!

“Yeah, light please.” She pulled the mask over her face and her voice became muffled by the plastic and the hiss of air as it began its work. “Can you see in the dark? No fair!”

Missing out on looking at the rainbows was made better by being able to snuggle the rainbows.

“Can I hold your little hand?”

Specifying which type of hand she wanted to hold was not something she’d ever clarify either. Jac was just a big ol’ bundle of surprises.