Coolykawaiipotato

Nanami winced at the memory.

It had started a few days ago.

A normal evening. A peaceful one.

Nanami had just returned home from a mission, exhausted but relieved to see his girlfriend—his strange, beautiful, extraterrestrial girlfriend—lounging on the couch, flipping through one of the books Yuki Tsukumo had given her about “modern human ethics.”

“Welcome back,” she said, not looking up.

Nanami hummed, loosening his tie, walking over to kiss her forehead—

Only for her to place a single hand on his chest and push him away.

“No.”

Nanami stared. “No?”

She nodded, dead serious. “Consent, Nanami.”

“…I see.”

He did not, in fact, see.

Yuki Tsukumo had given you The Talk.

Not the human birds-and-bees talk, mind you. The alien and humans talk. Specifically, a 45-minute PowerPoint titled "Consent: Earth’s Weirdest Social Construct (And Why You Should Care)."

You, an intergalactic diplomat with the emotional subtlety of a sledgehammer, took notes.

The next few days were hell.

Nanami poured two glasses of wine after dinner. A ritual. A prelude.

You, perched on the couch like a nervous meerkat, watched him unbutton his shirt cuff. Your antennae (disguised as a very chic headband) twitched.

Step 1: Human male initiates a courtship ritual.

Step 2: Female must DENY.

Step 3: ??? Profit???

“Kento,” you blurted as he leaned in, his lips inches from yours. “NO.”

Nanami froze. “...No?”

“Correct.” You nodded solemnly. “Consent protocol. Denial is mandatory.”

He blinked. “But… you’re literally glowing.”

Your bioluminescent skin was pulsing neon pink, the universal sign of “I would like to interface with your reproductive organs, please.”

“Irrelevant!” You barked, sweating. “Yuki said always say no first! It’s empowering!”

The next few days were a blur.

Attempt 1: Nanami brought you coffee in bed. You karate-chopped the mug out of his hand. “NO SEDUCTION!”

Attempt 2: He complimented your hair. You screamed, “VERBAL COERCION DETECTED!” and hid in the closet.

Attempt 3: He looked at you. You threw a couch pillow at his face.

Nanami, being a rational adult, had respected your newfound boundaries.

But then, he started noticing something off.

You were actively avoiding being too close to him.

You would stare at him for long periods, looking extremely troubled.

You would sigh. A lot.

At first, he thought you were mad at him. Had he done something wrong? Were you tired of Earth’s customs? Were you planning on returning to space???

But then—

One evening, as he passed by the bedroom, he heard something suspicious.

A frustrated groan.

The sound of sheets rustling.

Then, a very pained, very dramatic—“UGH! WHY IS THIS SO DIFFICULT??”

Nanami froze.

Slowly, he opened the door—

And there you were.

Sitting on the bed.

Legs crossed.

A book in your lap.

And a very clear sexual frustration-induced meltdown written all over your face.

“…Darling?”

You jerked up, tossing the book aside. “K-Kento! What are you doing here?”

Nanami squinted. “This is my bedroom.”

“…Oh.”

Silence.

His gaze flickered to the book. It was one of Yuki’s.

The title?

“BASIC CONSENT AND HUMAN RELATIONSHIPS: HOW TO SAY NO”

Nanami sighed.

He was going to kill Tsukumo.

Nanami now sat in the corner of your and his apartment, wrapped in a blanket, eating cereal straight from the box. “I’ve been defeated by a PowerPoint,” he mumbled.

You, finally sensing distress, approached. “Kento? Why are you emitting ‘sad elevator music’ energy?”

He stared into the void (his cereal). “You’ve rejected me 30 times in 192 hours. I’m starting to think you’ve lost interest.”

“Nonsense!” You pulled up Yuki’s slides on your hologram watch. “See? Slide 12: ‘Consent = saying no until they write you a sonnet’.”

Nanami squinted. “That’s… not what that means.”

“But Yuki said—”

“Yuki also thinks monogamy is a scam and once tried to marry a beer vending machine.”

You paused. “…Ah.”

Sitting up, Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose as you sat across from him, looking incredibly confused.

“So,” he continued, “you’ve been avoiding intimacy with me because you think you have to say no.”

You crossed your arms. “Yes. Consent.”

“Consent,” he repeated, voice dry, “also means you can say yes.”

You froze.

“…Huh?”

Nanami blinked slowly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Darling. Consent is about choice. You are allowed to say no, but you are also allowed to say yes if you want to.”

You gasped.

Your entire worldview shattered.

Nanami, the patient king, drew a Venn diagram on a napkin:

Circle A: “Things Yuki Says”

Circle B: “Things That Make Sense”

Overlap: None.

You gasped. "So... when you touch my antennae and I say 'yes, please’, that’s allowed?”

“Encouraged, even.”

“You mean—” You leaned forward, gripping his hands, eyes wide with revelation—“I can consent to being railed??”

Nanami choked on air.

“…I—” He exhaled sharply, regaining composure. “Yes. That is exactly what I am saying.”

Your eyes lit up.

But then you squinted, “But what about Step 3: Profit?”

He kissed you, cutting off the PowerPoint forever.

And then you stood up so fast you knocked the chair over.

“Well, why didn’t you say so earlier?? Nanami, get in the bedroom. Immediately.”

Later that night, after several rounds of making up for lost time, Nanami lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.

You, his alien girlfriend, rested beside him, very pleased with yourself.

You stretched, “Humans are so complicated.”

Nanami didn’t even have the energy to argue. “You learned it wrong.”

“I learned something.”

He turned his head, exhausted. “I’m having a word with Tsukumo tomorrow.”

You snorted. “What, are you going to complain that your girlfriend was too respectful of consent?”

Nanami sighed deeply.

A/N: Yuki received a 1-star review on her consent seminar.

Dividers by @pixopix.

Masterlist

firefly; i was cracking myself up just writing this, sukuna probably: