Hereâs a little commissioned addition to the world of Tarruk and his S/O!
Thanks to @roboticsanonymouss!
Hope you enjoy!
A loud clatter sounds through the walls of your apartment, and you look up in alarm. You hurry to the bathroom where your husband was showering, and knock gently.
âEverything okay in there?â you call, and you can hear a few frustrated grumbles before an actual answer.
âYes, itâs fine; I just⊠dropped⊠everything again,â Tarruk calls, his voice clearly annoyed. âHuman cleansing units are always just so⊠narrow.â
You giggle and lean against the door. âWell, we canât help the fact that we never thought to accomodate a huge, four-armed bug guy since we didnât know you existed until the last few years.â
âBe that as it may,â you hear him say as the water shuts off, âitâs still terribly inconvenient.â You can hear movement and shuffling as he dries himself off. âIsnât there a way we can get a larger shower?â
âNot without moving or shelling out thousands of credits to actually buy the place,â you say with a sigh. âAnd even the moving isnât really an option at this point; they havenât finished constructing the homes scaled to your species just yet. Though I have heard rumors that they have at least a couple floors completed.â
âThatâs a bit of a disappointment,â Tarruk says as the door slides open. You can see the faint gleam of dampness on his exoskeleton, and his antennae were still dripping. âI know that theyâd be at least as spacious as theseâŠspartan quarters,â he adds with a wink, and you stick your tongue out at him, âBut hopefully the ceilings would be higher.â He lifts a hand to touch the ceiling, barely a handspan above his head. You giggle for a moment before sighing and plopping yourself on the bed.
He was right; the human-sized quarters werenât a good fit for him unless he was sitting down. And even then, only just because he was sitting down. The beds werenât the right size, the doors were too small; it was like living with a giant. Though maybe in a sense, he was.
âI think I could do with a change of scenery,â you say suddenly, and Tarruk glances at you as he pauses in getting dressed. âLetâs go and see if any of those newer places are ready yet.â
âWhatâs this all of a sudden?â he asks as he fastens his shirt. âHadnât you just said not a moment ago that moving isnât an option?â
âAnd that there were a few floors finished already? Yes, I did. Luckily, whole buildings arenât closed all the time; theyâre just renovating some old human residences to be a better fit. Saves time and costs to recycle,â you say with a grin, and he sighs.
âWell, thereâs no harm in just looking,â he says as he leans down to kiss you, antennae swaying happily. âAnd I have to admit that Iâm curious about the way they look.â
âThen off we go!â You grab his hand and drag him toward the door as he laughs.
A quick taxi ride later, and youâre in the Insectoid district, a place that was quickly renovated and set up for the incoming galactic immigrants. There were restaurants, clothing stores, street vendors, all lively and bustling with activity. You noticed immediately that humans were the minority here by a wide margin, and that it was just the tiniest bit unnerving being surrounded by so many taller than yourself. A whiff of aroma from a street cart sends your stomach growling, and you blush.
âI heard that,â Tarruk says as he grins down at you. âForgot to eat lunch before we left?â
âYeah, I did,â you admit, embarrassed.
âWell, then, letâs get you fed,â he says as he steers you toward the delicious smelling food cart. âI know for a fact youâre going to love this.â
He speaks to the vendor in his native tongue, a sort of clattering, clicking sound, and comes away with two chunks of a meaty-looking food on skewers. He hands one to you with a smile. âThis is one of my favorite treats back on my home planet; you can find it virtually everywhere and itâs just⊠well, youâll know once you try it.â
You look over the meat with curiosity; itâs a brown-pink tone and has the scent of ham or bacon. As you go to take a bite, however, Tarruk quickly intervenes.
âWait, wait, wait; donât just bite into it!â he says in a somewhat horrified tone. You pause, mouth open, staring at him. âYou need to eat it like this-â he pulls at the meat, which shows to come off in a ribbon wrapped around the skewer, â-or else itâll all justâŠfall off.â
You see the vendor chuckling behind their hand, and you blush as you close your mouth. Upon closer inspection, there are visible layers of wrapping, and you feel a sort of embarrassment at missing it initially. You carefully peel the ribbon loose and look to Tarruk for more instruction.
âOkay, so what you do is just eat it like this,â he sticks the loose end of the meat into his mouth and munches on it, pulling more with his teeth and mandibles as he chews. The skewer rotates as he does so, and you see the real idea behind it become apparent: it was a (near) never-ending noodle of sorts. You carefully place the ribbon in your mouth, and are surprised by a salty, tangy flavor that you hadnât smelled before tasting it. I was delicious.
âWhat is this?â You ask through a mouthful. You had to use your spare hand to pull more into your mouth, as you didnât have mandibles. âItâs fantastic!â
âItâs the root of a fern-like plant that grows on our homeworld,â Tarruk says through his own full mouth. âWe call it âbasrookâ. When itâs roasted, it takes on this amazing flavor, and itâs fun to eat, too. Itâs a great food to have at festivals because itâs so simple to handle.â He glances over at you as you pull more into your mouth with your hand. âWell, for us at least.â You pause before giggling; he had four hands but only needed one, but you only had two and needed both.
âSo itâs a plant? I thought it was meat from the look and smell of it,â you say, biting off the ribbon to take a break.
âItâs funny how that works, but yeah; donât you humans have something like that?â Tarruk says as he continues eating.
âWe sort of do, but it takes a lot of preparation to get it to seem like meat,â you explain. âFrom the sound of it, you can just dig this root up and cook it.â
Tarruk nods as he slurps the last bit of his basrook skewer up and munches for a moment before swallowing. âAh, I get great luck,â he says with a grin, antennae waggling. The vendor claps heartily and rings a bell, and a few passerby Insectoid applaud as Tarruk gives a quick bow.
âWhat just happened?â You ask as the sudden audience disperses. âWhat was all that?â
âOh, itâs a sort of game that my kind play with basrook skewers: if you can finish your skewer without having to bite it off or it break on you, you get blessed with good luck!â He grins sheepishly as he tosses the empty skewer in a nearby trash can. âItâs not something most adults of my kind keep playing, itâs normally a kid thing, but Iâve never stopped trying,â he smiles at you, antennae swaying happily. âItâs the first time Iâve ever gotten it.â
âReally?â You say through another mouthful. Tarruk laughs and runs his fingers through your hair.
âReally. Iâd like to think you bring me good luck whenever Iâm with you,â he says, and you blush as you try not to choke on the last bit of basrook root. Finally finished, you toss the stick and grin.
âThat was fantastic. Letâs definitely have that more often,â you say happily, and he laughs.
âOf course, my love. Now letâs go and see about our new apartment.â
âHey, I never said we were actually moving. Just that I wanted to see what they were like.
âWhatâs with that tone? Are you mocking me?â
âOf course, my love.â
Tarruk takes off in a run as you swat at him, laughing.
âCome back here so I can bop you properly!â You call after him, dodging pedestrians.
âYouâll have to catch me first!â His laughter floats over the crowd, and you grin madly as you give chase.
âI love you, you big goof!â
Abruptly he appears beside you through the crowd and scoops you up in his arms. Â Your startled gasp is cut off by a strong, passionate kiss. He pulls back and you can see the devilish twinkle in his eyes as his mandibles flair.
âI love you, too, my little star.â
You stare for a long moment before you raise your hand upâŠ