“I’m hungry and I don’t want to cook.”

“Sylus, cooking doesn’t even help you when you’re hungry.”

“Yes, but accept the euphemism for hunting. I’m too fat and lazy for any of that.”

“You’re neither of those things and I’ve seen you hunt.” An exhilarating shiver went down my spine. “You’re pretty scary, actually.”

“Thanks.” He growled. “But this doesn’t solve the fact that I am, in fact, lazy.”

“There’s always Trish’s place. She knows how to feed you.”

“That she does.” He patted his belly. “But I’m almost too lazy to weavewalk.”

“Well I’m not gonna go get you a whole ham so that’s your option.”

He leaned his head back on the couch and groaned.

“Fine. I’ll take us there.” I took his hand and dragged him through our pocket of the Void.

We emerged on a familiar street in New Hampton. I could have landed us right outside, but suddenly appearing on a busy corner might draw some attention. The Void wasn’t ingrained enough in society for us to be openly flaunting our powers. Instead, I took us to about a block away.

Sylus glanced over his shoulder. About ten blocks back and across the street was where his son lived in an old brownstone. He sighed.

“We can stop by if you want.”

“Absolutely not.” He barked. “I’m not in the mood to fight with Dorry.”

“You know Dan would come out to you.”

He looked at his watch. It was Friday night at 7 o’clock. A snarl rippled across his lips.

“It’s late.” He snapped. “Dinner’s closer.” His hackles were raised.

I sighed. “Alright, big guy. Stand down. I won’t push it.”

He snorted before allowing his body to relax. Talking about his son always did that to him and I should’ve known better, but every so often he’d agree to stop by. It was rare, but I always wanted to give him the chance.

We made our way to Trish’s place. A fancy steakhouse furnished with dark woods and leather. The exterior was brick with a tarnished copper overhang. After years of exposure to weather, it now practically glistened green.

Inside we were welcomed by the usual mater de, Marcel. “Good evening, gentlemen.” He bowed lightly, shaking his freshly colored and beaded braids around is face.

“Good evening, Marcel.” I bowed my head in response.

He lead us to our usual table and furnished us with our regular priceless menus and a tasteful glass jug of water..

“Half N Half?” He nodded to Sylus.

“As always.” Sylus grinned. “But give is a moment, please?”

“I’ll have the prescutto wrapped fille mignon medallions. Medium rare.” I knew what I wanted before we even arrived.

Marcel chuckled as he left us to ourselves.

Sylus stomach roared. “Ugh.” He groaned as he rested his head on the table.

“There there.” I patted his belly under the table. “You’re gonna be okay.”

I could feel his hunger and it was never a simple thing. A lot of who and what he was was tied to that deep, aching feeling. What I felt was only a fraction of it. It was gut lurching but also somewhere between agonizing and, well, intoxicating. I knew what it meant to him, to be hungry. And I knew he wanted more than food. More than to consume.

But this was a decent establishment in a nice side of town.

Plus Trish would murder us if we did anything unseemly.

Not that I would.

Not in public, anyway.

Probably.

Anyway, I knew he was incredibly uncomfortable and there was very little I could do about it.

Well, there was something. I put a hand on his belly and kneaded. He gave me the usual warbling growl in return. I smiled.

He finally sat back so I could see his beautiful violet eyes. Sometimes it made me wish my own eyes matched, but I’d gotten so used to having the best of both worlds I knew I could never go back. The way he sideeyed me as I squeezed him complicated my own feelings.

As always, our meals were out far faster than should have been possible. Trish was one of the gifted. I’m not sure where she stood on the hierarchy of void magic, but she had a conduit, same as me, and she used it frequently to create things. Where I made music, she made food. If I recall correctly, it was a skillet.

Sylus’ meal was left on a cart and mine was placed before me.

“Enjoy.” Marcel bowed. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Marcel.” I nodded.

With a smile, he left us.

Placing my napkin on my lap, I picked up my fork and knife and cut into my meal. It was perfect as always.

Sylus was picking at his food which consisted of half a cow and half a pig. No heads or legs, but you know what you were looking at. All of it together was pretty much the same as if he went out and hunted a spawn himself. It was the most food I’d ever seen in a restaurant.

He was always weird about it, though. It was far from our first time doing this. He’d pick at it with his utensils, get barely a forkful, put it in his mouth, chew slowly, and swallow. It annoyed the shit out of me. I didn’t want him unhinging his jaw, but he could do better than scraping some meat off of ribs.

“Sylus.”

“Hm?”

“Eat.”

“I am eating.”

“You’re taking smaller bites than I am.”

He pursed his lips and took a slightly bigger portion.

“Why are you like this?” I groaned, dropping my fork on my plate.

His face flushed a deep shade of violet and muttered something under his breath.

“Use your words.”

“I don’t want to be a monster.”

I banged my fists on the table. “We’ve been over this, Sylus! So many times! Eat like a normal human being! Maybe a little inhuman. It’s fine!” He winced. “We’ve been over this since our first damn date! Just eat!”

He put down his utensils and buried his face in his hands.

“Oh my god stop it!” I reached over and took his arm. “Please. I just want to have a nice evening. I don’t want to be here all night while you eat your food molecule by molecule. I want to go home with you at some point!”

He pulled his arms away and sat back in the booth.

“Really?” I sat back myself. “Take me home, then.”

He folded his arms across his chest.

“You’re being an ass!”

“What do you want me to do?!” He picked up his fork, slammed it into some beef ribs, tore them off, and shoved them directly into his mouth.

I glared at him.

“What?!” He cried out around a mouthful of food.

My glare deepened.

He rolled his head on his shoulders before swallowing.

“Eat like normal!” I barked.

“WHAT IS NORMAL?! My normal? Your normal?” He took another rib, put it on his plate, picked it up in his fingers, sucked the meat off and swallowed the bone.

“LIKE THAT!”

“THAT’S NOT NORMAL!”

“IT’S NORMAL ENOUGH FOR YOU!”

He roared before turning completely to his meal.

“Why was that so difficult?” I scoffed as I picked up my utensils again.

He intentionally kept his gaze away from me.

“Every time, Sylus. Every damn time.”

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

I shook my head. “I just want you to be comfortable.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just me, Sy.”

“I know.”

“Now eat. Please.”

He growled as he continued eating.

My plate was delicious as always and judging by the happy humming coming from Sylus, so was his.

Why we had to do that song and dance every time we ate here was beyond me. He knew he could eat like a wild animal and I wouldn’t care.

Then again, I knew it wasn’t about me. He was desperate to cling to some form of human civility. He was already walking a fine line and the risk of tipping over to the feral Void side was too great.

I reached across the table and squeezed his arm firmly. He paused his chewing for a moment, gave me a subtle nod, and returned to his meal.

Things were complicated for him, but I was just happy to be by his side. I could never fully understand his internal struggle. All I could do was support him to the best of my ability. Which was difficult at times because he struggled to communicate his struggles.

I felt a tendril settle in my lap beneath the table. I smiled. He was comfortable.

We finished in comfortable silence. It wasn’t the date night I’d been hoping for. Then again, I’d never said that’s what it was and unless I did, Sylus wouldn’t pick up on it. That’s okay. We had a nice quiet meal together that neither of us had to prepare.

Marcel gave us the clearance to leave. We thanked him and stepped outside.

“You good?” I asked him.

He stretched, tentacles and all, and rolled his head on his shoulders. “I suppose so.”

I put a hand on his shoulder. “You ready to head home?”

He thought for a moment. “I suppose I am.”

“No churros?”

“Carbs are bad for me.” He squeezed his stomach.

I laughed.

“Why did you want churros?”

“Not unless you do.”

He gave it some thought, a barely visible tentacle rubbing his chin. “What if I don’t?”

“Then we can go home.”

“And what if I do?”

“Then I’ll get some churros.”

He nodded sagely. “Better to have than have not, yes?”

I snorted as I took his arm and lead him to the churro stand on the corner.

Once we’d been sufficiently churroed, I slid my arm around his.

“Ready to go, big guy?”

He craned his head to the sky. “You ever wonder what it would be like if you were with a normal human being?”

“Not really. Why?”

“I just wonder what experiences I’m depriving you of just but being what I am. Like a normal dinner out.”

“I don’t know why you keep using the word ‘normal’. That doesn’t apply to either of us or even the planet anymore. In fact, I think normal is a myth conjured by people who feel like they can’t be themselves so no one else should be able to.”

“Hm.”

“Anyway, who cares about normal when I have a big fat tentacle monster as my boyfriend? Checks all the boxes for me so what does it matter?”

“What if I was just a normal human?”

“Then I would have killed you in the desert and we wouldn’t be here holding hands.”

“I wouldn’t have been chasing spawns in the first place.”

“See? We wouldn’t have even met and we’d both be worse for it, right?”

He sighed. “Right.” He shook his head. “I mean I suppose.”

I patted his chest. “Don’t worry about it, Sy. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“Are you happy?”

“Very.”

“Then I suppose I am, too.”