Just the Three of Us: You, Me, and The Feelings We Finally Admit - Kwei (Predator: Badlands) x GN Reader
Bold Text is Yautja. Apparently this is going to be a series now???
You seek out Kwei after receiving that handmade journal. He is uncharacteristically nervous. Luckily he's cute about it.
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Just the Three of Us Masterlist
You turned the journal over in your hands, running your fingers over the leather cover. You wondered what creature’s skin it was– perhaps a Mevral, like the pelts Kwei had used to keep you warm on the ice planet— and how long it had taken him to prepare it, to scrape off the hair and fat and flesh and stretch it tight on a rack to tan it.
It was hard work, you knew that much, you’d seen it done before online.
You wondered if he looked good doing it.
Probably.
I should take him up on that offer.
Tonight the ship on which Dek’s little clan of outcasts lived was traveling between planets and most of the outcasts in question had bedded down for the night cycle. You knew one remained awake, though: Kwei. He would be in the cockpit, watching the route to make sure that the ship stayed on course. It was a perfect time to chat.
You pulled on some comfy PJ’s and your bathrobe on top– the ship always got colder during night cycle as it went into power-conservation mode– and exited your cabin. The ship’s insides twisted, holding many halls and rooms for weapons, for storage, for relaxation, for trophy storage. Despite only having two Yautja on board there were plenty of trophies to display. Even you and Thia had started to collect sorts of “trophies.” They were not bones but rather funny little oddities. Gemstones, interesting insects, antler sheds from alien deer, preserved plants, abandoned technology, you name it.
You passed the main trophy room where the greatest trophies were displayed, including a Tyrannosaurus Rex skull hunted by Kwei a while ago. You made a mental note to ask him to tell you the story. Bud, whose giant body was sprawled on the pelt rug of the trophy room, stood and followed you with curiosity.
The cockpit blast doors yawned ahead of you, down the hall, and you started to get a little nervous. What if the ice-planet cuddling was solely for survival?
…But what about the note saying I’m a nice human and he wants to hunt with me?
It was probably a prank.
Prank from who, you dolt?
WHATEVER he probably doesn’t like me!!!
You’re being silly. Just go!
But– you stopped yourself there and approached the cockpit. You peeked in and saw the inky black expanse of space through the windshield and Kwei lounging in the pilot’s chair, his… paws? Propped up on the dashboard.
You wondered if you should announce yourself, but he probably already knew you were there. So you entered and awkwardly, shyly, sat down in the passenger’s seat.
Kwei jumped upon noticing you, yanking his paws off the dashboard. “Ooman!” Oh, so he hadn’t been aware of your presence.
Bud laid at your feet (although it was hard, what with her size) and started snoring instantly.
“Hi, Kwei.”
“Hello, ooman. Why do you come to the cockpit? Can you not sleep?”
“I… found this.” You held up the handmade journal.
“Ah,” he said, glancing down at his hands, one flesh, the other metal. “Yes. I made you a journal to replace the other one. Because it is my fault you had to burn it.”
“Your fault?” You echoed. “I’m the one who volunteered it as fuel for the fire.”
“But… it is my fault that we had to start a fire in the first place. It is my fault that we were on that planet. I am… sorry.” His voice was slow, tight, as if he wasn’t used to apologizing or admitting fault. To be fair, “I’m sorry” wasn’t a common phrase in Yautja.
“You input one digit wrong. It could happen to anyone.”
“It shouldn’t have happened to me. I am a hunter. I am Blooded. A warrior. I do not make mistakes.” His prosthetic hand curled tight into a fist. “I do not fail. I do not put my clan in danger.”
“Kwei.” You place the journal on the dashboard then reached out, one hand on his shoulder. It was just as warm as your remembered from that night on the ice planet, his scaly skin rough but comforting. He turned to you, yellow eyes widening a bit. You thought you saw a hint of green in the pink skin inside his mandibles, which you knew signified increased blood flow. “We’re okay. We got off that planet alive and unfrozen. We’re alright now. We’re fine. Please, don’t worry about it. You made a mistake, and every single living creature makes mistakes. And you certainly didn’t fail to protect your clan– that much is clear when you look at Dek. You did that, Kwei. You protected him and taught him and trained him. You’re an amazing big brother and an amazing clanmate.”
The green inside Kwei’s mandibles became a little more visible before he looked away quickly. You’d never seen a Yautja flustered like this.
“I’m not honorable,” he mumbled. “I’m a coward.”
You paused. Kwei? A coward? Those were two words you’d never associate, not once in a blue monn. “What do you mean?”
His mandibles closed, tightening in a gesture of discomfort. “I ran away. A long time ago, before I was Blooded. I was sick of Father and taking care of Dek and the clan and– everything. I packed a bag and ran away in the middle of the night. I just wanted to hunt and have my own life and do what I wanted.”
“But you came back?”
“Yes.” His eyes slid closed. “I came to my senses. Realized that if I was gone, Father would kill Dek. So I went back. But I still ran away. I was a coward. Not honorable.”
“You were a kid, Kwei. A kid with a ton of weight on your shoulders. You’re not a coward for that.”
“Yautja pups are not like ooman children.” Despite his words, he sounded unconvinced.
“Yautja pups are still pups. Little. Of course you were scared and tired of Njohrr. But he’s gone now; he’s dead, and you and Dek never have to fear him ever again.”
He nodded, mandibles finally relaxing a little, and ran his hand down one of his predlocs, something he did when worried– something that rarely happened. “Thank you, ooman. You are a good clanmate.” His eyes opened and glanced to the journal, then to your face.
“You want an answer to your question.”
“Yes.”
You opened the journal and reread the last line, just to make sure you hadn’t hallucinated it and weren’t going to make a fool of yourself. Sure enough, it still read: Join me on my next hunt?
“I’d love to hunt with you.”
You’d never seen such unrestrained excitement on a Yautja’s face before. His eyes brightened, his mandibles twisted into a Yautja smile, green flooded into his crest and the inner skin of his mandibles and he puffed up his chest like a proud bird and flexed his arms, clicking all the while. You were stunned that Bud could remain asleep.
“Yes! We shall go on a great hunt. I will teach you to hunt like Yautja do and you will be the first to see the trophy.”
You couldn’t help but smile too, amused and endeared by his excitement. “And– just to be clear, to avoid any cultural misunderstandings, what exactly does hunting together and being the first to see the trophy… mean?”
He froze immediately before he started to run his hand down a predloc again. This was a wild night. Seeing the stoic, protective, brave Kwei so vulnerable and so excited and so nervous all in less than an hour was strange.
That isn’t a weird question to ask, right? That’s normal, right? To ask someone what they want with you? Unless it’s weird to Yautja and I’m just supposed to know?
“It… is an invitation to watch me hunt and hunt with me. It… means… I would like to show you my skill.”
Like how male birds show off their feathers to prospective mates. Or how bucks will spar with each other to show off during breeding season.
“So it’s like… you want to impress me. To make me like you.”
“Yes. You get it. I do not know how oomans do it. I do not want to get it wrong.” Oh. Of course he was nervous. He was trying to woo someone from another species and had no idea how their mating rituals worked. “How do oomans do it?”
“Well, we typically ask each other out on ‘dates.’ Basically we just… hang out together for a bit and get to know each other. But, I mean, hunting together could be a date. It works.”
“So I am doing it right.”
“Absoutely.” You tried to hide a stupid, airheaded, giddy grin. Kwei basically just asked you out on a date. He wanted to go on a date. With you.
“Have you been on many dates, ooman?”
You cringed. He’d unknowingly unearthed an insecurity of yours: the fact that never once in your life had you ever been out on a date. You were an accomplished scientist traveling the universe but still couldn’t get a single date. “...No.”
“How many dates, ooman? Do I have competition?”
You swallowed hard. “No one’s ever asked me out on a date.”
Kwei frowned. “Not once?”
“Never.”
“No one wanted you as a mate? Not a single other ooman?”
“Nope.”
He let out a loud noise that was halfway between a growl and a scoff. “Other oomans clearly do not know strength and honor when they see it. Useless, tarei’hasan pyode-amedha!” Then, he turned to you, yellow eyes sharp. “Hunt with me, ooman. I will show you how and you will have a strong, honorable mate that is a true Blooded warrior.”
You sank back in the passenger seat, cheeks darkening. This was not happening. No way. Not only were you getting asked out on your first date, but it was a date with big, strong, brave Kwei.
“Ooman. You are shrinking. Have I said something wrong?”
“Nope,” you squeaked, hiding your face. “Just… feeling very wooed.”
“Good,” Kwei said proudly, puffing up again. He was so cute when he did that. “That means I am successfully wooing you. When we land at our destination tomorrow, we shall leave the others and we shall go on a glorious hunt. And then, I hope, you will…” he paused, green blood rushing to his face again. “Accept me as a prospective mate.”
“Sounds like a plan,” you replied without thinking, barely able to comprehend what was happening.
The two of you sat in an awkward silence for a bit, disturbed only by Bud’s snoring. Then, Kwei spoke up again: “this ship gets cold at night.”
“Yeah. That’s why I’m in pajamas and a bathrobe. No wonder you’d be cold, too, Yautja Prime is always hot. You’re not used to this, are you?”
“No. I am not.” You looked at him and saw that he was staring at you with an expectant, hopeful expression.
Oh. “You want me to… keep you warm?”
He gave a single brisk nod.
You removed your toes from beneath Bud’s bulk to move freely and approached Kwei’s seat. His mandibles twisted again in an even wider smile and he pulled you into a lap, a movement very similar to your night on the ice planet. He started purring instantly, tucking his face into your neck and squeezing his arms around your belly.
“I was right,” he rumbled. “You are nice to hold.”
“You’re nice to be be held by,” you replied, reaching up and patting his cheek. He nuzzled into it like a cat. “Don’t fall asleep, though. You’re supposed to be watching our route.”
“I will not.”
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“Bud! Breakfast time!” Dek wandered through the halls, looking for the Kalisk. She always got grumpy when hungry, so it was always best to feed her first thing.
She wasn’t in any of her normal spots. Not the trophy room, now on anyone’s bed. It was getting worrying.
At last, he peeked into the cockpit and spotted her. Her giant head was draped on the ooman’s lap, who was sitting on the lap of Kwei. He expected his big brother to be asleep, but he was not. He was holding the ooman tight, keeping his eyes on the starmap while his mandibles gentle scraped their scalp in a massaging motion.
Dek back up, then turned and left. He decided to not disturb them. He didn’t want to be a victim of the wrath of a male Yautja holding his mate this early in the morning.
