“Well, this works, I guess?" Hollin tugged against the mint green hospital gown that Kerne had provided him to wear. “It's a shame about that shirt. I really liked it."

Cavan snorted. “Well, your torture suit shredded it. And what do you mean, you liked it? Have you even heard of 'The Howl'?"

“I know they're a band! Desen told me." the jaguar said chirpily. After a moment of thought, he frowned. “But, no, I haven't heard them. I'd like to!"

The doberman chuckled, the ghost of a smile playing about the corners of his mouth. “You're ridiculous, you know that? Come on, Central Surgery is massive, and they don't have any trams. Keep up, prisoner."

Hollin rolled his eyes, grinning. Carrying his briefcase, he followed Cavan down a maze of sterile, almost identical hallways, his bare feet cold on the stark white tile. He knew wild cats could handle such temperatures, but he also knew he was a highly domesticated animal, and missed his comfy boots. It seemed that word had gotten around that the cat was not to be messed with, because although he attracted a good amount of stares from curious doctors and patients, nobody stopped them to talk as they progressed. Hollin's gown, more like a robe that tied in the back, was sheer enough to be almost see-through, and the jaguar shivered. “Geez, I know it's a hospital, but do you guys even do heat? I don't think I've been warm since I got here."

Cavan stopped, glancing back at Hollin. “You're cold? I think it's pretty warm in here. Are you running a fever? We can have Kerne paged to look at you, and —"

“No! No, it's not a fever, it's… hmm." The jaguar looked around furtively, and seeing that nobody was around, he spoke out loud, “Desen? What's the temperature set to in here?"

The caracal appeared in both of their visions, causing Cavan to jump. “Surprise, Mr. Guard! I thought it'd be rude to hide from you at this point. We're pals, right? Right! Anyway, it turns out they use a similar enough temperature scale to the one you're used to. The Canids have set the temperature to about twenty degrees Celsius, which is a comfortable temperature for most of their species. Felids, however, thrive at twenty-six degrees or so."

 “What is 'Celsius'?" Cavan asked.

Desen addressed him next. “It's roughly similar to your Misdof units. One degree Celsius is equal to 1.555 repeating in Misdof." Then the caracal made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I swear, every scientist in every culture wants something named after them…"

“Wait, but that means —" The doberman scrunched his face as he did the math in his head. “That's a tremendous difference! Why didn't you say anything sooner?!" Cavan whipped off his jacket and draped it over Hollin's shoulders, engulfing him in the blue fabric. “I'm so sorry! Will you be okay? I can get you something hot to drink, assuming you can drink tea. Er, that's dried leaves steeped in boiling water, or I guess we could just do the water —"

“Cav! Calm down!" The jaguar laughed at Cavan's frazzled state. “I'm just cold; I'll be fine. It's uncomfortable, that's all. Also, I know what tea is, and I would love to try alien tea sometime. But can we please go back to your place first? I really don't like hospitals very much." He drew the jacket tightly around himself. It smelled like Cavan, with floral scents from his soap, but also warm notes of cedar, musk, and wood smoke. Is that him? That's… nice. Huh, weird; I've never noticed another person's scent like this before. Hollin sighed, nestling deeper into the oversized garment with a smile as his posture relaxed.

Cavan saw the jaguar relax, and he felt his own tension leaving his shoulders and jaw. They went through one last door, and they blinked as they stepped into the bright light of the outdoors. It was very industrial, everything covered in concrete and steel. The doberman put a paw on Hollin's back, and ignoring the tingles that shot through him, he guided the cat to a transport like the one Hollin had seen before. After buckling themselves into their seats and taking off, the canine turned to him. “So, uh, that case. It has your suit in it, and some of your medicine. Anything else in there I should know about?"

“Nope! That's pretty much it. I can put other things in there, but that's for extended mining operations."

“Mining?" Cavan blinked, his jaw hanging open. “Wait, mining? That's the most advanced combat weapon we've ever seen, and you use it for mining?!"

“I mean, I'm sure other people have used them for self defense before, but only in extreme circumstances. It's horribly outdated; I'd have gotten my rover instead, but it's a lot slower. Fortunately, those pink things —"

“Bakaj."

“— Oh, is that what they're called? Bakaj, then. As I was saying, it's fortunate that they're so weak…" Hollin's voice trailed off as he noticed his guard's jawline had hardened, and his eyes were devoid of emotion. “Um, Cavan? Is everything all right?"

“No — No! No, it's not all right!" The doberman exploded at Hollin. “Do you have ANY idea how hard those things are to kill? There are always casualties, always life-changing injuries, every time they appear. And you!" Cavan swept a paw in the jaguar's direction, causing him to flinch. “You swoop in and not only can they not hurt you, but you killed three that we've never even seen before, and without so much as a second thought! With tech like that, you could've easily broken out of our prison. Hell, you could take over our city on your own. You'd be untouchable, Hollin, you —" The canine hunched his shoulders, shying away while casting his eyes out the window. “Hollin, you scare me. I don't know if I can be near you."

The feline felt a pit form in his stomach, and he lurched toward Cavan. “I-I'm sorry, I didn't think…" He reached a paw out to touch the doberman's arm, but Cavan turned away. Hollin flinched back. “Cavan, please, don't shut me out. It hurts — oh, my stars above, it hurts!" A burning sensation filled his chest, and his heart raced as the fire spread throughout his limbs.

Cavan snorted derisively. “You'll survive, apparently you're unkillable —" The doberman turned to sneer at Hollin, and his breath caught in his throat. Hollin was panting, sweat matting his fur, and tears streamed down his face. The cat's eyes met Cavan's, and the larger man swallowed hard, seeing the devastation written on Hollin's face. “Shit! Little cat, I'm sorry! Ah, hell, this is all my fault. Come here." The canine unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned across to hug Hollin. “Breathe. It's the mate bond. It thinks I was rejecting you. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. Just hold on, it'll pass soon. I promise you're safe with me."

Hollin gasped for breath, his chest tight. But as Cavan continued to hold him, he slowly started feeling better. His head stopped spinning, then the tears dried up, and finally the strange twisting, burning sensation ebbed. He remained pressed against the canine for a while, nuzzling into the dog's broad chest and breathing in his woodsy, spicy scent. Cav stroked the cat's head once, twice, allowing the now-familiar tingles to replace the empty feeling that had occupied his chest after his panic attack.

The console of the transport chirped, and Cavan jumped, pulling away. “Oh, uh, we're here already. Come on, prisoner, let's get you inside and —"

“Could you please call me Hollin? After everything we've been through the last couple of days, I'd think we could be on a first name basis."

Cavan winced. “I can't do that, not easily."

“Why not?"

“Because…" Cavan trailed off with a sigh, walking Hollin to the house. As he unlocked the door, he continued, “I'm trying to keep some distance. This bond is… distracting, and until you can break it I'm stuck with these —" the canine swallowed loudly, and his ears splayed backward. “— feelings." He stood in front of the open door for a moment, staring into the distance, before stepping inside.

Hollin stepped through just before the door slid shut. “Hey! Wait! What feelings?" Cavan was hurrying towards the bedroom, and the jaguar hurried to catch up with his long strides. Grabbing the dog's shoulder and spinning Cavan around to look him in the eye, he asked again. “What feelings are you having towards me?"

Cavan huffed, a warm puff of air that was strong enough to flutter Hollin's whiskers. “They're not important. We've discussed this." Then, leaning in, voice growing softer, the canine asked, “Why do you want to know, little cat?"

Hollin felt his ears burning. Cavan's scent surrounded him; it was the canine's house, after all, of course it smelled like him. It was almost overwhelming, setting Hollin's senses buzzing. He felt the firm muscle of his guard's shoulder, and couldn't resist the urge to squeeze it, rubbing a thumb against the sinewy bulge. Hollin was pleased to see Cavan's eyelids flutter, and the broad-shouldered dog sagged a little, grunting at the impromptu massage. They stood that way for a few moments before Hollin recalled being asked a question. “Oh. Um, right, feelings. I don't know what this 'bond' thing is like for you; I barely understand what it feels like for me, honestly. It would help me to collect as much data as I can about the bond, so I stand a better chance of breaking it."

“I… see." Cavan looked down at his feet and sighed. Is he pouting? What gives? Hollin wondered. The dog looked up, met his eyes, and once again the jaguar was struck by the depth of the green-brown hazel he saw. “I can tell you what I know, I suppose. But first, let's get you into some actual clothes. I've got some more to spare, since I usually wear my uniform."

A few minutes later, Hollin was swimming in another t-shirt. This one was unadorned, although it had a striking gradient from navy blue at the bottom to a vivid sky blue at the collar. The cat also wore an oversized pair of shorts, made of a loose black breathable material with a drawstring at the waist. He asked about his old clothes that Cavan was supposed to have washed, and the dog cursed, trotting off and mumbling about how he'd forgotten them in the washer. Hollin saw Cavan disappear into the bedroom, and a few minutes later the dog returned, sitting beside Hollin on the threadbare couch.

“Uh, so… how attached are you to those clothes, specifically?" Cavan asked, tenting his fingers together. He glanced at Hollin, then looked away, his ears going back flat.

The jaguar cocked an eyebrow at Cavan. “I mean, they weren't anything too special. It was a standard issue uniform; That was my last one, though." The canine winced, causing Hollin to narrow his eyes and swivel his ears toward the dog. “Cavan, what did you do to my uniform?"

“I'm sorry!" Cavan put his head in his paws and groaned. “I don't know what happened, but when I washed your clothes they just kind of… disintegrated? They clogged up the filter on the washer, I'm gonna have to fix that. It's like they were actually made from some kind of organic material!"

Hollin digested this information for a beat before saying, “Do… do Canids not use organic material in their clothing?"

“Only if you're stupidly wealthy!" the doberman scoffed. Then he looked at Hollin, raising a paw to cover his mouth. “Oh, God! Did I ruin Felid formal wear or something?"

The horrified look on Cavan's face as Hollin cackled was something the cat knew he was going to treasure for a long time. “No! No, not at all. That was for work. It was practically disposable. You're right, they were organic. We use a plant fiber to make most of our clothes. Synthetic materials are available on my home planet, but corporate doesn't approve of any of them for company uniforms. They're oddly strict on that point, really…" The cat trailed off, twisting the fur beneath his chin between a couple of fingers as he lost himself in thought.

“Well, that explains what happened. Disposable…" Hollin's eyes flicked back to Cavan attentively as the dog spoke. “We only use synthetic materials for our clothing. Our detergents attack any organic material, well, really aggressively. Plant fibers are scarce here, and they don't grow well, so only the elite wear them. I think Kerne has a couple of shirts, and the mayor exclusively wears organics… I'm so sorry, again, if I'd known I —"

“Seriously, don't worry about it. If I ever get back to my ship, there might be supplies to make some clothes for me." Hollin plucked at the fabric draped over his lithe frame. “Um, how long do you think that could be?"

Cavan hummed. “I don't know. It's still quarantined. But…" the dog drew out the word, tapping a finger to his cheek. “You know, I could take you to my tailor; they do all my formal wear. And it'd be good to get you into some canid fashions while you're here; it'll make you stand out less." Cavan began nodding and smiling, his short tail thumping against the couch. “Yeah! Let's take you clothes shopping —"

Hollin's stomach growled loudly, and his guard smirked. “ — After lunch though, yeah?"

…

Cavan hummed to himself as he worked. He'd taken a chunk of meat out from the cooler. With a flick of his wrist, his claws on his left paw grew long and sharp, and he dexterously diced the meat into tiny cubes. Hollin watched, eyes wide.

“Can all Canids do that?" the feline asked. “With their claws?"

Cavan chuckled. “No, not all. I can only do this because of my prosthetic. I can actually reconfigure it to do a lot of things, but the claws are the most useful." He shaped the finely diced meat into two patties, adding some seasonings along the way, then turned on the stovetop. It immediately glowed red, and Cavan plopped the patties down on top, relishing the delicious sizzle and savory aroma that filled the room. He also enjoyed how Hollin was watching his every move, enraptured. “Haven't you ever seen someone cook before?" he teased.

“It's been many years." The jaguar said, a sad, far-away look in his eyes. “It was a corporate dinner. They had specially trained Felids come in and cook like they used to before corporate funding for meal replicators was established. It was the most fascinating thing I'd ever seen, and the best food I'd ever tasted."

Cavan blinked, his firm jaw flexing. “Wait, so your people — your entire species — can't cook?"

“Oh, I'm sure there are people that can. It's just so rare, and it's frowned upon anyway. You're supposed to use the food replicators, so that everyone can eat the same food as everyone else." Hollin stared, fascinated, as the dog flipped the patties to the other side to cook. Cavan, in turn, watched the cat swipe the back of his paw across his mouth and swallow heavily before saying, “Damn, that smells fantastic. What do you call this?"

“It's a burger?" The doberman frowned at Hollin. “You guys have to have something like this. Diced or ground meat, pressed into a disk and fried or grilled, served on bread?"

The cat's stomach growled louder, and he spoke hesitantly. “The… the replicators are limited in what they can make. I usually get eight ounces of protein, four ounces of fibrous vegetable matter, and three to four ounces of starch."

Cavan pressed for more information. “Okay, but, what kind of protein? Or vegetables?"

Hollin wasn't even looking at him anymore, his attention fully on the meat in front of him. “You can choose flavors, if you want, but it's all the same, nutritionally. The pastes have next to no texture, either, so it gets boring — when will those be ready?" The cat was licking his chops and leaning toward the stove, sniffing the air eagerly.

“Paste? You eat nothing but paste?!" The doberman's mouth dropped open, and he stared at Hollin. “So, wait, when you asked me if that was — what did you call it, pork? — the first night I made you dinner, how did you know?"

“It was what I ate at the corporate dinner. I could never forget that taste, that texture, the way it felt to bite into it… I usually had my replicator make that flavor for me, just so I could remember it." There was that far-away look again, this time accompanied by a soft smile. Hollin shook his head a few times, coming back to the present. “I don't know what you served me, but I can tell you it tasted almost exactly like roast pork."

“Hollin." The cat jumped, surprised to hear his name. “Hollin, that is the saddest, most dystopian shit I have ever heard. You're telling me you've only had home-cooked food twice? And you're hundreds — literally hundreds — of years old?" When the feline nodded, blinking, Cavan felt his stomach drop. No, no, no! You're supposed to be keeping your distance, Cavan! He's an alien! Don't get attached, don't — “No way am I letting that slide. I'm cooking for you, every day. Paste… what the fuck…" Crap.

Hollin raised his paws. “You really don't have to, I don't want to trouble you. I have a food replicator built into my briefcase, I can —"

“Shut up." Cavan snarled, and the short feline shrank back from him. “You will eat actual food, and you will like it. Do you understand me?"

“Y-Yes, sir!" Hollin stammered.

“Good cat." With a huff, Cavan brought down a pair of rolls. Slicing them with his claws, he scooped one patty onto each, topping them with some sauces from the cooler. He plated them on round, clear glass plates, then flicked his chin at the table, wordlessly telling Hollin to sit.

The feline complied, and the dog put a plate in front of Hollin before sitting down himself. Cavan stared at Hollin, clearly waiting for him to take a bite. So the jaguar did, hungrily taking a large chomp out of the burger. As he chewed, his eyes rolled back, and he moaned with delight. The lithe feline set the treat down as he chewed and swallowed, eyes closing. When he finished the bite, he gasped, saying, “Cavan, this is… incredible! I've never had anything like it! What's this fluffy stuff around the meat? It's like how I'd imagine biting into a pillow would be, except it's delicious, and not made of foam. It's not foam, is it?"

The doberman chuckled. “No, it's not foam. It's bread. Well, a type of it anyway —"

“There are different kinds?!" Hollin's eyes sparkled, and an eager grin spread across his muzzle.

Cavan felt a warm glow rush through him at the sight of the excited feline. Oh my God, he's adorable… Nope! Nope, we're not thinking about that. He's a prisoner, and an alien. Remember that, Cav. “Uh, yeah. There's lots." Unable to continue looking at Hollin, the canine stared at his burger before taking a bite out of it.

“Can we try more food? I —" Hollin looked away, picking at his cheek with a claw. “I don't want to go back to nutrient paste. That's fine and all, I guess. It does the job, but this…" he held up the burger reverently. “I might actually look forward to eating, if it was all like this." Hollin took a smaller bite this time, savoring the morsel before swallowing.

“You didn't enjoy eating?" Cavan probed. Not that he could blame him, he supposed. Paste. How awful.

“Well, it tastes the same after a while. Eventually, I stopped being able to taste anything at all. I rarely eat this much, or at all, really."

Cavan noticed Hollin had still finished his burger before the doberman. A sober expression came over his face. “Were you skipping meals?"

“Well, I mean, every now and then —"

Desen's voice popped into their heads. “He'd eat once every other day on the ship, and that was on a good day. I had to pester the fuck out of him to get him to even do that."

“Desen!" Hollin chided. “It wasn't that bad. I just couldn't… eat…" The cat swallowed audibly at the dark look on his guard's face. “Cavan? Is s-something wrong?" he stuttered.

Cavan shook his head, his features softening. “Just make sure you're eating, okay? It's not good to skip meals like that. I'll cook for you. Hell, I'll even teach you to cook for yourself." That dark look flashed across his eyes again, only for a moment, but it was enough to make Hollin shiver. “I don't ever want to hear you stopped eating again, you hear me?"

Hollin's heart fluttered in his chest, and he looked away with a pout. “Fine. It's not like I don't enjoy your cooking, anyway. Seriously, it's amazing." The slender cat groomed himself while Cavan finished his meal, and frowned when the canine refused his help cleaning the dishes. Cavan muttered something about prison labor, which made Hollin chuckle.

After doing the dishes, the doberman flicked his left wrist and made a tapping motion with his fingers. “I've called a transport; It should be here in a few minutes, so get your boots on. I've let my tailor know we're coming, and I won't let you keep her waiting." His gruff voice rang with command, and Hollin hastened to comply.

…

After a quick flight, they had landed on a small landing pad that led to a domed, brightly lit building. Hollin noticed it was remote, with no other buildings visible in the area. It was also one of the few areas that he'd seen plant life, with trees that towered over them, thick straight trunks with rust-colored bark and crowns of delicate pink leaves. He picked a fallen leaf off the ground, stopping to admire the fine veins that ran through the almost see-through foliage.

Cavan caught him staring and huffed. “Come along, prisoner. We're not here to sight-see."

The cat pocketed the leaf and trotted to catch up with his watcher, his ears flushed and folded back. His embarrassment cooled somewhat when he caught the slight upward slant of Cavan's lips, and the almost fond way his watcher glanced at him.

They arrived at the dome, a concrete structure painted an eye-popping purple, and Cavan opened the door with a wave of his left paw. They stepped in, and an enthusiastic chocolate lab greeted them immediately. “Cavan! Oh, it's been so long since I've seen you! We must get you some new clothes, darling, those are absolutely ancient…"

She turned to appraise Hollin next, and fell silent, her gaze traveling up and down the jaguar's frame. The cat froze in place, dipping his chin down as his ears flushed red again. “So, you're the alien? My God, what does he have you wearing?"

Hollin started, his ears folding back as his cheeks burned. “Uh, it's not —"

“It was what I had, Leisha. I couldn't let him run around naked, even I'm not that cruel." Cavan broke in, taking a step toward the jaguar and standing beside him. Hollin could feel the warmth radiating from the bulky doberman's body, and his cheeks blazed hotter.

Leisha scoffed. “Well! Naked might have been an improvement, over —" she wrinkled her nose and gestured at Hollin vaguely, “— whatever this is supposed to be. But you've got beautiful fur, darling, and you're so delicate. Mmm, yes, yes! Oh, it will be a pleasure to dress you!" The labrador clapped her paws together and rubbed them vigorously. “Now, how much are we talking here? It would be such a shame to make only casual clothes, you know. You know my pricing, Cavan. What do we want to do?"

“Seven casual shirts, four formal shirts, three casual pants, two formal pants, and underclothes. Oh, shoes, too." The doberman hesitated as Liesha nodded, but then added. “And one couture shirt, something good enough to meet Geanna in. Can you make it out of intjak fibers?"

The tailor's eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open slightly. “You want plant fiber? For an alien? Why?"

“It's what his kind is used to wearing. I want him to be comfortable when he meets the mayor, that's all." Cavan looked away, and Hollin couldn't see his face. He did, however, see the paw Cavan raised to the back of his head. “Make it fashionable, he's going to need to make an impression."

Leisha grinned. “Darling, everything I do is fashionable. I assume you're going to want to make payments —"

“No need, charge it to my usual account." Cavan waved a paw dismissively, and Hollin caught the tailor's eyes bulging as her tail wagged happily.

Leisha cleared her throat, clearly still excited but allowing her professional demeanor to wash over her again. “Very well! I'll take care of everything. Since you're spending so much, I'll fabricate something simple for him to wear out of the store until I'm done with the rest of the order. And of course, as I'm clothing the first alien species we've ever encountered, you'll be top priority! I'll have everything but the couture shirt by the end of the day." Seizing the jaguar's wrist, she tugged. “Come along, pet! I need to take your measurements."

She dragged Hollin into another well-lit room, this one full of tall tubes of clear liquids with smaller tubes full of various colored substances. The labrador ushered him onto a short, round platform that stood in the center, with lights shining directly onto it. “Okay!" she said. “Go ahead and strip."

“W-What?!" Hollin balked, hugging his arms across his body. “B-But I'm not wearing any underwear, I'd be naked!"

“Yes, love, that's the point. I need to get as close a measurement as possible. Don't worry, it's all strictly professional in here. Do you want me to send Cavan out? If that makes you more comfortable —"

“No!" the jaguar blurted out, causing Leisha to jump. Wincing, he raised his paws in front of himself. “Sorry! I-I mean, no, he's… fine. Uh, I guess let's get this over with?"

…

Cavan had thought about turning away as Hollin undressed, to give him privacy. But, for some reason he couldn't place, he found himself unable to tear his eyes from the feline. He watched as Hollin shyly pulled the borrowed shirt off, handing it to the labrador before undoing the tie on his borrowed shorts. Leisha told Hollin to stand up straight while she found her tape measure, and Cavan swallowed hard. The slender jaguar was much smaller than most Canids, to be sure, but he stood with a regal posture that belied his earlier hesitation. The cat's arms were willowy, his thighs long and lithe, and beneath the short, silky fur the doberman could see lean muscle. Cavan caught his eyes drifting south, and he blinked, jerking them back up to look at Hollin's face, and making the mistake of catching Hollin's gaze.

Hollin smiled at him, the gesture softening his delicate face even as the feline shrank in on himself. Cavan felt his heart race. He's nervous… Do something, do anything! Help him! “Um… You good?" The doberman winced. That's it? Well, you didn't want to get too close. Keep this up and you'll have nothing to worry about.

The jaguar chuckled, though, and some more of the tension Hollin had been holding in his body relaxed. “Yeah, not really, no. This is really weird for me. Back home, we'd just use pre-measured templates and fabricate our uniforms. I'm a little excited to see what fitted clothes feel like!"

“Good." Cavan stared at the feline another moment, then opened his mouth to say something to Hollin. “I'm sorry I've been —"

“Found it!" Liesha cried, trotting over. “Let's get your measurements now, all right?"

Hollin nodded, and the tailor started measuring him quickly. In just a few minutes, she was done, and she smiled. “All right! Here you go, darling, slip into this." She handed him a fluffy bathrobe; a little oversized, but it looked comfortable. “Now, you two have a seat. I'll have something simple ready in about fifteen minutes."

Hollin padded over to a small plush couch the same purple color as the building. Flopping onto it, he groaned, sinking into the soft cushions. “Oh, wow… this is amazing, Cav. You gotta try this!" The feline gently patted the seat next to him.

Cavan reminded himself that he was trying to keep his distance. He couldn't get too close to Hollin, especially not if they were going to break the bond anyway. “Yeah, sure." The words were out of his mouth before he even thought about them, and he was already stepping towards the couch. What? That's not what I was going to say at all!

Against every shred of better judgement, the doberman sat next to Hollin. He could feel the warmth coming from the cat's body, even through the thick robe, and shuddered. His jaguar sprawled out over the cushions, his head tilted back to expose his long neck, and Cavan had to suppress a low growl. He wanted to bite him, mark him, claim him for his own, and… No! Stop it, it's just the bond talking! Then Hollin looked at him and gave a sleepy smile, the cat's eyelids fluttering as he yawned. The doberman's heart jumped in his chest, and his guarded emotions surged, just for a moment. He reached out a paw and stroked Hollin's short, silky headfur.

The jaguar pressed his head into Cavan's gentle paw, clearly enjoying the gesture. He started purring, a sound that made Cavan's lips turn upward. Hollin sighed, and said, “Mmm, if you keep this up, I might just fall asleep. That feels nice…" Cracking an eye open, he shot the doberman a smirk. “Tell me, do you do this for all your prisoners? Or am I a special case?"

Cavan was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was soft and thick with emotion. “No, Hollin. You're definitely special, all right."

The jaguar's eyes shot open, growing wide. “You used my name! That's like, the second or third time you've ever said my name." Smiling shyly, he looked at the tubes of liquid on the far wall, some of which were now bubbling. “I like that, you know. When you use my name, that is. It's, uh… nice. Did something change? I thought you were supposed to be keeping your distance."

“Distance… yeah. Sorry." Cavan's paw stilled on top of Hollin's head, and he started pulling it back. The jaguar let out a little whimper, though, and immediately Cavan was petting him again. “Sorry. I know this is selfish; it'll never — we'll never work. But this feels like what I'm supposed to be doing, right now."

“Cav," Hollin said, his usually high melodic voice husky and deep, “I really, really needed this right now. Think about it; I'm trapped on an alien planet, I'm the only one of my kind around, and on top of all that, I'm naked. Thank the gods for this bathrobe… but that's not the point. The point is, I'm incredibly stressed, and I'm great at masking that, but it just builds and builds on itself until the stress makes me collapse. You're keeping me grounded, focused on the present. So honestly?" the jaguar tilted his head, so that Cavan was cupping his cheek. “I think this is what I need, too."

Cavan's eyes met Hollin's, and for the first time, he saw their color; a sparklingly clear emerald green, vivid and deep. He'd doubted the jaguar's age because of how similar his and Hollin's maturity levels seemed to be, but now he couldn't deny it. Those eyes were sharp, calculating, constantly analyzing and assessing everything around, and right now, those eyes were assessing him. Cavan watched as Hollin's eye slits slowly expanded, growing round and dark, and the doberman licked his lips. “Little cat," he said with a growl. “Can I kiss you?"

The jaguar nodded dreamily, and in a flash, Cavan pressed his lips to Hollin's, wrapping his paw around the back of the feline's head. Hollin pressed back, deepening the kiss, and the doberman groaned as a shiver of electricity shot down his spine. Instead of the usual tingles, they once again burned for each other, heat coursing from their lips and spreading down through their chest before settling in their stomachs. It lasted almost half a minute before Cavan broke away, panting.

“Oh. Oh, fuck. That was…" The canid had to resist the urge to dive back in for another kiss. He knew he was supposed to be staying apart from Hollin, but something in him just refused to back away from the petite jaguar.

Hollin licked his lips. “That was, ah… okay, that was incredible," the jaguar said breathlessly. “Is kissing always like that?"

Cavan felt his heart drop into his gut. “Wait, was that your first —"

“All done!" Leisha crooned, gliding into the room with a few garments draped over her arm. “It's short notice, but I think I've designed something that will be absolutely gorgeous on you! Come, come, let's get you dressed."

The labrador ushered Hollin to a small dressing room. After assuring him that there were undergarments, she practically shoved him into the room and shut the door. “Hurry, hurry! I simply must see what these look like on you!"

Hollin called through the door as Cavan walked up to join Leisha as she waiting to see her creations. “Um, not to be ungrateful, but are you sure this is a shirt?"

“It goes with the jacket!" she chirped.

“The jacket doesn't have a closure on it, either."

“It's meant to be worn open! It's fashion, darling."

There were a few minutes of shuffling, followed by some unintelligible mumbling from inside the room. “Okay," Hollin said. “I'm coming out. I guess."

The jaguar opened the door and stepped out of the booth. Cavan's jaw hit the floor. Hollin had been attractive before; he could admit that to himself now. But the creature standing in front of him now was nothing short of stunning.

Hollin was wearing a black mesh shirt that showed off his spotted, cream-colored chest fur. An open, hooded, hunter green half-jacket went on top, with a white fleecy lining providing warmth. And the pants… Cavan licked his lips as his eyes traveled along the jaguar's long, lean thighs, accentuated by the deep green form-fitting fabric that Leisha had chosen. Hollin wore thick black socks, but his feet were otherwise bare.

The feline tugged at the hem of the jacket, straightening out an imaginary wrinkle before looking at Cavan. “So, um, h-how do I look?"

“Oh, fabulous, darling!" Leisha cried. “That settles it. You simply must let me be your personal tailor. Oh, those bitches at Frizley's will be ruined!" She clapped her paws together and cackled with glee.

“Oh, ah, thanks, I guess?" Hollin rubbed his paw against the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. “But, Cavan, I still want to know… what do you think?"

“Are there shoes to go with that?" Cavan asked Leisha instead of answering the feline.

“Oh! Yes, but they were still being fabricated. I'll go get them now." She trotted off, leaving the two alone again.

Hollin grimaced. “I look ridiculous, don't I? You know, stuff like this is popular among the youth back home, but I never had the body to pull it off. I should ask for something to cover up with, I —"

Cavan closed the distance between them in two long strides, cupping Hollin's face in his paws. “No," he said, his tone soft and warm.

“N-No?" the jaguar squeaked.

“You look incredible. If you're really uncomfortable, I'll get you something else, but if you think you don't look good, well… You really should think again. You're the most beautiful alien I've ever seen." The doberman smiled, exposing his rows of perfectly pearly teeth as he cocked an eyebrow. “And I've seen the most out of anyone I know."

Hollin's ears folded back as he shifted, attempting to look away, but unable to remove himself from Cavan's grasp. “W-Well, if you think they look good… It won't be appropriate for work at the research lab, though."

“They have uniforms, you won't have to worry. Damn, now I think I need some new clothes."

“Ooh, should I put in an order?!" Leisha popped up, carrying a chunky pair of fabric shoes with a flexible, rubbery sole. Cavan jumped away from Hollin, who tucked his paws behind his back and rocked back and forth on his heels.

“A-Ah, you know what? Sure. I have enough uniforms, though, so give me the same as Hollin here."

“A full wardrobe? Oh, you got it!" Leisha hesitated. “Did you want the natural shirt as well, then, or…"

“Yeah, you might as well." Cavan shrugged. “Kerne was just getting on me about how I don't know how to spend my money. Wait until I show up to an event better dressed than him!"

The tailor fanned her face. “Oh, this will be a treat! I'll even give you a discount. Ah! No arguments!" She chided as the doberman opened his mouth to protest. “You've given me the opportunity to dress an alien! And you're ordering a hell of a lot, honestly. I'd do the same for any of my other clients. Now, go have some fun. Take your boyfriend out to dinner, or something."

Both men spluttered. Hollin spoke first. “We're not boyfriends!"

Cavan followed. “Yeah, no, I'm just his guard. He's still a prisoner. And he's an alien! That's gross, Leisha."

“Oh, please," she scoffed. “I've seen you ogling him. You think I dressed him in that skimpy outfit just for my benefit?" Leisha smirked. “Okay, so it was mostly that, but I thought you wanted to see him dressed up, and I was so, so right. You two may not be dating, but he's definitely not just some 'prisoner' to you. I'm not blind."

The doberman coughed. “Er, well, you know…" he lost his words, struggling to say anything at all. Hollin just shuffled his feet and looked down at the floor.

“Suit yourselves!" Leisha shrugged, then gestured at the shoes. “Here, put these on."

The jaguar did as he was told, bending his knees and taking a few tentative steps around the room before confirming that they fit perfectly. The labrador then ushered them out of the room, sending them away so that she could get started creating the new fashions for them.

“So, um… Cavan? Can I ask you a question?" Hollin asked as they walked back to their transport.

“Mmm." The doberman grunted, giving a curt nod.

“What are we doing?"

Cavan stopped and turned to face the feline. “What? We're headed back home, that's obvious —"

Hollin shook his head. “No, that's not what I meant. I mean, you and me. What are we doing? There's this weird bond, and it's making me feel strange, and then you… you kissed me, and I just want to know. What are we — you and I — doing?"

The canine sighed, then resumed walking towards the transport. “I'm sorry. Kissing you was a mistake. I went too far, I never should have crossed that line. It was an accident, and it got out of hand…" Cavan's voice trailed off as he realized he couldn't hear Hollin's steps behind him anymore. Whipping around, he looked, and saw that the jaguar had stopped several steps behind, Hollin's paws clasped in front of himself. “Hollin? We need to go —"

“It was a mistake?" Cavan's throat tightened at the broken, fragile tone of Hollin's voice. “T-The most intense emotions I've ever felt, my first —" the jaguar's breathing hitched as tears started rolling down his face “— my first kiss, and it felt that good, and you're saying it was a mistake?" Hollin collapsed to his knees, scuffing his new pants on the concrete slab below. “What the actual fuck was all that, then? Why do I feel so… so…"

Cavan felt sick as the jaguar dissolved into sobs. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go comfort him, apologize, he was his mate! But the canine knew that he'd done enough damage. Comforting the feline now would give him a false impression. Still, he thought, wincing at Hollin's wails, I can't let him do this to himself. It's not his fault. Cavan crouched down, bringing his face level with the jaguar's. “Hollin, come on. It'll be okay. I —"

Hollin wrapped his arms around Cavan's chest, bowling him over with a surprisingly strong tackle. The doberman twisted to ensure his jaguar didn't hit himself on the hard concrete. Voice hoarse, barely able to speak, Hollin whispered, “I don't believe you." He hiccupped, then continued. “I don't believe that it was a mistake. That felt good. That felt right. Don't shut me out, Cavan. I need to know what we're doing. Please."

The doberman looked into Hollin's tearful eyes, and felt his heart ache, knowing that he was the one who caused Hollin such sadness. Looking around and seeing the launchpad empty, he hesitated, then gave a quick peck to the jaguar's nose. “Let's just… let's just go home for now. Okay? We need to eat, and I'll have a better answer for you then. Deal?"

“Y-Yeah. Deal." Hollin sniffled, but rolled off of Cavan to let him up. After dusting themselves off, the pair boarded the transport, and Cavan directed them home.

He didn't expect the throng of people outside his home, nor the city guard holding them back. As they landed, Cavan stood up, his hand on his pistol. “Hollin, I don't know what's going on out there. I'm going to find out, but if something goes wrong, tell the ship to take you to Geanna Vadi's house. She'll know what to do." The shuttle's door opened, and the doberman stepped out to face the crowd.

Immediately, a beagle pointed and shouted. “There he is! That's Cavan Windemere!" Whipping out a recorder as a guardsman shoved him back, he hollered, “Where is the alien, Mr. Windemere?"

These are… reporters? Cavan wondered. But Hollin's existence isn't public knowledge. How did —

The crowd suddenly surged forward, interrupting his thoughts as they broke through the perimeter of guards. Pressing forward, they stampeded towards Cavan, mobbing him. “Sir! Where did the alien come from?" “Is it true it's not Canid at all?" “What does it eat?" “Is it an invasion? Is it going to kill us all?"

The doberman froze, panic rising in his chest. “I… I… I…" he stammered, unable to answer. His heart sped up, and a cold sweat broke out that sent shivers down his spine. “I don't know what you're talking about, there's no alien —"

“Cav, they know. Might as well give them the spectacle they're waiting for." Cavan turned slowly and saw Hollin standing in the shuttle's doorway. He looked regal, composed, not a hair out of place, and utterly fetching in his dark green outfit. He graciously waved at the stunned reporters.

“Hello! Resident Alien here! Who wants an exclusive interview?"

Pandemonium ensued, but Hollin stilled them all with a shockingly loud shout. “All right! Calm down and group up. Raise a paw and I'll pick people to call on for questions. I'll answer anything I can."

Cavan's stomach growled. He'd just wanted to make dinner for the jaguar. Oh well. At least this gives me time to think about what I'm going to say to him.

Oh, God… What am I going to say to him?

…

To be continued…