Chapter 8

eight

W aking up with Tuesday curled around him and partially melted was becoming Ozzie’s favorite thing in the world. It was warm, familiar, and oddly comfortable. Ozzie smiled as he reached down to pet one of Tuesday’s tentacles, sighing contentedly.

It hadn’t even been a week, but Ozzie couldn’t imagine being without Tuesday now.

Yes, that was probably insane, but so was having a beautiful alien crash into his tub.

An alien who was sweet, funny, caring, and…

Wow.

Pretty much perfect.

Every night since the party had been incredible—from lounging around watching TV, cooking and sharing delicious meals together, and of course, their passionate love life. Since their tumble in the back of the limousine, they’d both been pretty much insatiable.

Ozzie’d had more sex in the last few days than he’d had in the last few years .

And yes, while that was certainly enjoyable, there was so much more to their budding relationship.

Marathoning movies, talking for hours, trading jokes, falling asleep in each other’s arms…

Yeah, it was pretty damn perfect.

There was no one else Ozzie could imagine celebrating the winter solstice with, and today was the day. The only thing better than waking up with Tuesday was knowing they were going to spend the holiday together. He was a little nervous, but his excitement quickly outweighed his anxiety.

After all, Tuesday had sat through three Lord of the Rings marathons. He’d already proven that he really cared about Ozzie, so celebrating the solstice was nothing to worry about.

Tuesday stirred as Ozzie continued to pet his arm, mumbling, “Mm, good morning.”

“Good morning.” Ozzie smiled. “Happy solstice.”

“Happy shoal-tice to you too. Mmph. What time is it?”

“Dunno.” Ozzie yawned. “I didn’t set an alarm.”

Tuesday snuggled in tighter. “Which means we can go back to sleep.”

Ozzie chuckled and kissed Tuesday’s curls. “It’s the solstice. We gotta get up and do witchy things.”

“Mm, like what?”

“Well.” Ozzie stretched his legs, grunting. “I gotta go by the store and grab a turkey breast from the deli. Get some kinda greens. Uh, you know.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’m not much of a cook, so.”

Tuesday snorted. “Yes, but your new hot alien boyfriend is.” He peeked up at Ozzie. “What kinda foods are we talking here?”

“Like I said, a turkey or something. Any kind of bird or roast. Uh, sides will have nuts and fruits? Seasonal vegetables? I firmly believe that deviled eggs are appropriate because the yolk represents the sun.”

“The sun, huh?”

“Yup.”

“So.” Tuesday sat up with another yawn. “What I’m hearing is we need to get up, get dressed, and go to the store.”

“Kinda what it sounds like.” Ozzie rubbed at his eyes. “I got everything I need for the ritual, so it’s really just the meal.”

“Let me cook for us.” Tuesday withdrew his tentacles, forming two human arms to stretch over his head. “You tell me what’s witch approved and I will make it.”

“Are you going to behave yourself?”

“Most definitely, probably, yes, maybe.”

Ozzie arched his brow. “What kind of answer is that?”

“An honest one!”

Ozzie groaned as he dragged himself out of bed. “Okay, fine. Yes. Thank you for offering to cook. That is really sweet of you.”

“Let’s be real. It’s self-preservation.” Tuesday pulled Ozzie into a tentacle filled hug. “Mmm, can’t live off cookies and takeout.”

“That is a vicious lie.”

“Come on, baby. We got shopping to do!”

They got dressed and headed out to the grocery store, and Tuesday was on his best behavior.

Well, more or less.

Tuesday raided the candy and snack aisles, saying they were going to need provisions for their next movie marathon. For the actual food, though, he spent a lot of time asking Ozzie about what he liked, what was appropriate for the holiday, and picking over the produce and meat until he found only the very best selection for their meal.

Ozzie was touched by his thoughtfulness.

He was also grateful that Tuesday kept his tentacles to himself.

At least until they were back in the car.

Once they returned to Ozzie’s house, they put away the groceries, except for what Tuesday needed to prepare for dinner. Apparently, there were things that had to marinate and do other stuff, but Ozzie just left him to it so he could do some laundry and tidy up around the house.

He lit some candles and incense, a fun holiday blend that smelled like gingerbread, and took his time putting away their clothes.

Yeah, their .

After all, he didn’t know what to do with Tuesday’s clothing, and it was easy to make some space in his closet and clean out two of the drawers in his dresser. He didn’t want to be presumptuous about Tuesday’s future plans, but he did hope Tuesday was planning to stick around for a while.

He wanted more days like today, slow and comfortable, filled with laughter and the genuine joy of enjoying another person’s company even if they weren’t in the same room. It was a new experience for him, and one he realized was quickly becoming addicting.

He and Tuesday really needed to have that chat sooner rather than later.

Because if he was being honest…

Yeah.

He really didn’t want Tuesday to leave.

Once the sun had set, Ozzie brought Tuesday over to his altar in the corner of the living room. Tuesday had told him dinner was as ready as it could be without actually cooking anything, and he wanted to learn more about how Ozzie celebrated.

Ozzie’s altar was an antique secretary desk he’d found at a yard sale. He had candles set up on top of it with artificial season greenery, and inside the desk itself were more candles, four bowls, and a miniature cast-iron cauldron.

He opened the desk to show the setup to Tuesday, smiling shyly. “Well, here it is.”

“Oh wow.” Tuesday leaned in curiously, but he didn’t touch anything. “This is beautiful. This is great.” He paused. “What am I looking at?”

“So, uh, this is my altar.” Ozzie gestured to the small desk. “It’s decorated for Yule right now. That’s why I have that mistletoe and holly stuff up there. It’s just plastic, but hey, it’s the thought that counts, you know. “ He waved at the bowls. “These are all here to represent the elements. The salt is for earth, the quartz for air, and oh, this little frog is water. It’s made out of paper. Got it in some gift shop years ago, but since it’s blue, that’s what I use it for. And for fire, I have these little pieces of wood.”

“They’re… burned?”

“Yeah. From the very first ritual I ever did.” Ozzie smiled shyly. “I made a little fire outside, took some time to meditate and think about what I wanted to do, what felt right to me. And well, that’s when I decided to pursue witchcraft. It felt really special, so I kept a bunch of the little charred bits.”

“That’s nice.” Tuesday kissed the top of Ozzie’s head. “Can you really use anything for the elements?”

“Pretty much.” Ozzie chuckled. “Some people might tell you that you have to do shit a certain way or it’s not right.” He rolled his eyes. “But I just do, well… what feels right to me.” He gestured to the candles. “Like, for Yule, you can have red and green? But I like red better, so that’s all I use.”

“Red is very nice. Very close to pink.”

Ozzie snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah.”

“You know, we have a holiday kinda like this where I’m from.” Tuesday smiled fondly. “It’s the longest night of our year, but it lasts for three whole days because of our weird-ass orbit. Everybody gathers around with their families and feasts, and we burn this special oil in clay pots instead of using electricity. To remind us what it used to be like, you know, before we had all that.”

“Really?” Ozzie beamed. “That sounds nice.”

“It’s called Sluth.” Tuesday chuckled softly. “Well, that’s the nickname for it anyway. You wouldn’t be able to pronounce the real name. But yeah, it’s fun. Not everybody does the oil these days. A lot of people kinda think of it as being old-fashioned, but you can buy incense and candles with the same scent, so some people just do that.”

“Yeah? They can just do whatever they want?”

“Yup. There’s even those who don’t celebrate it at all.” Tuesday chuckled. “I mean, they still feast though. I don’t think there’s anybody on the planet who doesn’t like all the food.”

“That’s cool. Everybody can kinda do their own thing.”

“Exactly!” Tuesday beamed sweetly. “Nobody cares if you do or don’t, just as long as you’re nice to the people who still celebrate it. My family are Sluth-candle kinda people.” He chuckled, leaning in to sniff at the altar. “The oil kinda smells like that.” He pointed at one of the red candles.

“I think that’s cranberry scented.”

“Okay well, then Sluth oil smells like cranberries!”

Ozzie chuckled, wrapping his arm around Tuesday’s waist. “It’s nice there are so many different ways to celebrate. It’s honestly part of what drew me in to become a witch—knowing I could make it my own, in a way. I like that.” He smirked. “Oh, and still totally gonna burn a Yule log though.”

“Oh, you had me at burning things.” Tuesday laughed. “What’s that for?”

“Well, it’s kinda like your oil for Sluth. See, the winter solstice is the longest night of the year here, so people would have bonfires to symbolize the light returning because the days get longer again after tonight. What kind of wood depends on who you ask. Like, some say it should be birch or cherry, but I always just get a piece of firewood from the grocery store.”

“Is that what this is?” Tuesday pointed down to a large piece of wood underneath the altar that was nestled in a basket with a bag of oranges.

“Yup. That’s my Yule log.”

“Why does it have oranges all around it?”

“Because I was gonna make sun wheels and never did.” Ozzie sighed dramatically. “Sort of been busy with this alien invading my house.”

Tuesday beamed. “Why don’t we make them today?”

“You don’t even know what they are.” Ozzie laughed.

“So?” Tuesday huffed a bit. “Come on. Teach me. You said we were gonna celebrate together… so, show me how!”

“Okay.” Ozzie’s heart fluttered, and he took one of Tuesday’s hands to lead him into the kitchen. “Well, first, we gotta cut up some oranges.”

“Then what?”

“We cover ’em with spices and dry them out in the oven. Punch little holes in them to put some ribbon or string through, and we use them to decorate.” Ozzie smiled as he put the oranges on the kitchen counter. “We can use what’s left over to add to the mulled wine we’re gonna make too.”

“I dunno what that is, but you had me at wine ,” Tuesday teased, bringing over the cutting board.

“Trust me. It’ll be good.” Ozzie opened up the bag of oranges. “Can you grab the cookie sheet from under the oven?”

“Under the oven?” Tuesday seemed surprised, but he kneeled down to open the drawer beneath the oven. “Isn’t this supposed to be for keeping food warm or something?”

“What? No. It’s for storage.” Ozzie hesitated. “At least I thought it was.”

Tuesday chuckled and set the cookie sheet on the stove beside where Ozzie was. “Pretty sure it’s for broiling.”

“Pretty sure you’re crazy.” Ozzie laughed, pulling a knife out of the block to cut a few of the oranges into thin slices. “While I’m doing this, can you grab that big metal pot from the top of the cabinet?”

“The one that looks like you could boil a horse in?”

“I… Yes?”

Tuesday grabbed the large pot with ease. “Where’s this going? On the stove?”

“Yeah. There are two bottles of wine in the cabinet there.” Ozzie nodded in that direction. “We heat it up and mix in some spices.”

“Oh! That’s fun. Spicy booze.”

“You guys have anything like that for Sluth? Special Sluth juice?”

“We do.” Tuesday grinned as he retrieved the wine. “It’s an alcoholic drink fermented from mushrooms. Oh, don’t make that face! It’s good!”

“Fermented mushrooms?” Ozzie tried not to grimace. “If you say so.”

“It tastes like, hmm.” Tuesday hummed thoughtfully. “Like oranges? But also like your candle smells.”

“The mushrooms?”

“Yeah, they’re really special.” Tuesday smiled warmly. “They’re super sensitive to light, so all of it has to be brewed up in total darkness. It reminds people that hey, even when the sun isn’t around and things might seem kinda lame, there’s still beautiful stuff happening.”

“Aw, that’s cool. I like that.”

“And we sure as shit don’t use prepackaged spice packets.”

“Ha ha.” Ozzie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, on this planet, sometimes we take shortcuts. The horrible packets are right over there?—”

“Yeah, yeah! I’ll find ’em. You focus on your oranges, baby. I got this.” Tuesday stepped around Ozzie, pausing to kiss the back of his neck as he headed over to open more cabinets.

Ozzie blushed, and his heart skipped a beat.

This was nice.

It was downright domestic even, and he’d never been so comfortable sharing space like this before. Tuesday fit into Ozzie’s life effortlessly, and his charm was incredibly endearing. He had to poke and taste and sniff everything as he mixed up the wine in the big pot on the stove, and he took it upon himself to make a few adjustments to the recipe, citing that prepackaged spice mixes were lazy.

While the wine was heating up, Ozzie laid the orange slices out on the cookie sheet. He and Tuesday sprinkled both sides of them with cinnamon and ginger—spices associated with fire and common for Yule festivities. They put the orange slices in the oven on low heat, and Ozzie explained they had to be turned every thirty minutes for a few hours to fully dry them out.

Tuesday suggested they try some of the wine and smoke a bit while they waited.

That turned into drinking about half the wine and smoking two bowls, which led to raiding the fridge for snacks when the munchies hit.

They brought their feast out to the couch so they could cuddle and watch television, and Ozzie was thrilled to have the honor of being the first person to show Tuesday the holiday classic, Die Hard .

Whenever the timer went off for the orange slices, they’d pause the movie and get up together to go flip them.

They’d also get more wine, of course.

The Die Hard marathon continued, and by the time they started the third one the orange slices were ready. Their spicy scent filled the whole house, and Tuesday and Ozzie both burned their fingers trying to get them off the cookie sheet and onto a plate. Back out on the couch, they strung the slices with red ribbon, drank more wine, and then Ozzie got an idea.

Remembering that Tuesday had mentioned the Sluth drink tasted like orange and smelled like cranberries, or at least a cranberry scented candle, he quickly mixed up a vodka cranberry cocktail. He didn’t have vodka, so it was actually a white rum cranberry, but Tuesday had been so happy after tasting it that he didn’t stop kissing Ozzie until the credits rolled.

They rewound the movie so Tuesday could see the parts he’d missed, and Ozzie could not stop smiling. He’d never been able to share this special day with anyone before, and he was ecstatic that it was Tuesday.

Yes, Derrick would have been okay, but Tuesday seemed genuinely interested and could relate since his own culture was so similar.

Plus, Derrick couldn’t cook like Tuesday did.

For their Yule meal, Tuesday made a roast turkey breast with a rich ginger scallion sauce, roasted brussels sprouts with cranberries and walnuts, stewed spiced apples, twice-baked mashed potatoes, and somehow managed to even pull off an entire cake with a creamy icing that tasted faintly of cinnamon.

Snickerdoodle inspired, of course.

While Tuesday cooked, Ozzie hung the sun wheels across his altar and put a few on the Yule log. Tuesday insisted on treating one of the sun wheels like it was mistletoe and used it to summon Ozzie over for kisses. Ozzie helped with the cooking where he could, though he mostly felt like he was in the way.

Tuesday insisted he wasn’t, and Ozzie thought it was very sweet of him to lie like that.

Ozzie cleared off his breakfast table so they’d have somewhere to sit and eat together, and Tuesday suggested bringing some of the candles from the altar over. Ozzie quickly set up a little centerpiece with a candle, the fake holly, and some of the sun wheels they’d made together. There wasn’t enough room on the small table to lay out all the food, so Tuesday set it up across the counter like a buffet.

They made their plates, Ozzie lit the candles, and they sat down to eat.

For a few seconds, all Ozzie could do was stare.

Tuesday reached across to take Ozzie’s hand, asking quietly, “Hey, are you okay, baby?”

“Yeah!” Ozzie smiled, his eyes stinging. “This is, uh… This is something I’ve always wanted. Someone to share this with. And now you’re here, so… Yeah.” He laughed and shook his head. “Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Tuesday squeezed Ozzie’s hand. “This means a lot to me too. I haven’t been back home in a really long time, so I haven’t gotten to celebrate much of anything. Heh. I’ve missed holidays, weddings, births, everything.”

“The perils of dating a world-conquering douche?” Ozzie recalled.

“Yup.” Tuesday snorted. “So trust me when I say this is special.”

“I didn’t do that much.”

“You made me Sluth juice!” Tuesday argued. “You actually listen when I tell you things. You listen to what I want. I know that should be, like, the first rule of any relationship, but I… I wasn’t always this lucky.”

Ozzie rubbed his thumb over Tuesday’s knuckles. “I’ll always listen. I may not always understand, but I want to try. I care about you a lot. I… I feel like a different person when I’m with you. I’m not anxious or grumpy or anything. I feel seen and I’m—” He took a deep breath. “I’ve never been this happy.”

“Aw, baby,” Tuesday gushed, his eyes bright and gleaming with tears. “You’re amazing, do you know that? Like, really. So fucking amazing.”

Ozzie gave Tuesday’s hand a little tug, but it was oddly soft. He looked down and laughed when he saw that part of Tuesday had turned to slime. “Make you melt, huh?”

“You sure do.” Tuesday laughed, flexing his slime tentacle and wrapping it around Ozzie’s wrist. “In all the best ways, baby.” He pulled his tentacle back and gave it a shake until he had a hand again. “Now come on! We gotta eat. Someone promised me a fire.”

“That I did.” Ozzie nodded solemnly. “I would hate to disappoint you.”

“Don’t think you could if you tried, but I guess it depends on the size of this fire. Will we have marshmallows? Hot dogs to roast?”

“Eat your food,” Ozzie griped playfully. “And then I will make the biggest fire I can without having the fire department called.”

“Deal.”

The biggest fire Ozzie could make involved all the firewood crammed into his tiny steel fire pit and Tuesday squirting an entire bottle of lighter fluid over top of it. Ozzie was pretty sure he lost part of an eyebrow when they first lit it up, but it was worth it once the wood caught and the fire was blazing away.

He and Tuesday stood side by side, holding each other and watching the fire burn. Ozzie had brought the Yule log out, but he hadn’t added it to the pit yet. He watched the flames as he leaned his head against Tuesday’s shoulder, lost in his thoughts.

Only a few days ago, he’d been dreading spending the holidays alone.

Then a gorgeous alien crashed into his bathtub and turned his whole world upside down with glittery slime, pink tentacles, and the most beautiful smile in the universe.

“Whatcha thinking about, baby?” Tuesday asked softly. “You have the same look on your face that you got after I asked you why they didn’t just ride big eagles to the mountain.”

“Oh.” Ozzie smiled. “Just thinking about how you completely upended my entire life, destroyed my daily routine, and made me the happiest man ever.”

“Ah, so good stuff. ’Cause it’s about me.”

“Exactly.” Ozzie chuckled. “Part of this holiday is, uh, looking back at the year that’s gone and ahead to what’s coming. Thinking about the future was pretty crappy for me, to be honest. I didn’t know how to get out of this rut I was stuck in. I was pretty sure I was gonna be miserable forever, and now…”

“Now?”

Ozzie hugged Tuesday closer. “Now I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

Tuesday cupped Ozzie’s cheek, turning his head so he could press a sweet kiss to his lips. “Fuckin’ ditto, baby.”

Ozzie kissed him back for a long moment, listening to the flames crackle and the wind breezing by. He breathed in Tuesday’s sweet scent, savored the soft swipe of his tongue, but he laughed when he felt the distinct pressure of a tentacle squeezing his ass.

“Oops, my hand slipped.” Tuesday giggled.

“That was definitely not your hand.”

“That is true. It was definitely not.”

Ozzie chuckled softly and then sighed, glancing over at the Yule log.

Tuesday followed Ozzie’s gaze. “Is it time to roast it?”

“Yes. I think it is.” Ozzie headed over to pick up the log, and he smiled as he looked over the sun wheels. “You know, some witches like to visualize a promise for the future when they burn the log. Sort of like making a wish.”

“Don’t tell me what it is!” Tuesday gasped. “Or it’s not gonna come true!”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously true.”

Ozzie huffed as he headed over to the fire pit. “Okay, fine. I won’t tell you.”

“But now I want to know, baby. Damn.” Tuesday hummed. “What a pickle, huh?”

“All you need to know is that it’s something nice,” Ozzie promised, carefully and quickly sticking the log into the center of the pit. He took a step back and smiled as Tuesday hugged him from behind. He dropped his hands over Tuesday’s, watching the ribbon on the sun wheels catch first, and he could smell a whiff of warm spices.

“I hope it’s this,” Tuesday murmured.

“What?”

“Your wish,” Tuesday said. “I hope it’s for this. To you know, last a while.”

“Maybe.” Ozzie’s heart skipped a beat. “I am starting to get used to you, even with all your glitter and tentacle stuff. Be a shame if you decided to up and leave or something.”

“Pffft. Leave? And deny you the sheer awesomeness that is my wonderful company? To make you live without my exquisite wit and irresistible charms?” Tuesday laughed. “Yeah, right. Mmm, you fed me. You’re stuck with me now.”

“Oh, is that all it took?”

“Yup. I’m a very simple alien.”

Ozzie chuckled and squeezed Tuesday’s hand. “Babe, there is nothing simple about you.”

Tuesday snorted.

“Don’t worry.” Ozzie leaned back against Tuesday, hugging his arms tighter around him. “I like you just like this.”

“Good. I like you like this too.”

Ozzie smiled, enjoying the closeness and watching the fire.

Tuesday had been right about his wish, more or less.

What Ozzie had thought about as he placed the log into the flames was making this feeling last forever. It was still new and a little scary, but Ozzie had no doubt in his mind that what was between him and Tuesday was special, and he never wanted to be without it.

Maybe they should have that chat now, to find out what Tuesday wanted to do?—

“Hey, baby.” Tuesday licked his lips slowly, breaking Ozzie out of his thoughts. “Any of these holidays involve orgies? Ritualistic orgasms? Maybe super-hot tentacle sex?”

“Uh, historically, I’m gonna say no.” Ozzie laughed. “Can’t say I’ve ever?—”

“So, how do you feel about making some new traditions?”

“You mean…?”

Tuesday winked.

“Oh! Yup. Yes. Good. Really, really good.”

“That’s what I thought.”