by Nikki Clarke
“Okay.”
We eat in silence for another moment before Qim sets his fork down and clears his throat.
“So, should we amaze you with the wonders of our alien forms?” He smiles wide, flashing that little gap. It’s cute and gives him a boyish quality. His hair is a coarse, dark brown that's unusual but attractive against this toffee colored skin. I glance to Ah’dan but don't linger too long. Qim is nice enough, but looking at Ah’dan does something to me, something I’m not sure I want to explore too much.
“Sure. It’s not going to be anything scary is it?”
“Not scary, no, but different. You ready?” His eyebrows jump, and I laugh.
“Yeah, but I can't promise I won't scream if it’s scary.”
“It is not scary, I promise.” Qim turns to Ah’dan, and they exchange a look. Ah’dan’s mouth quirks, and he gives a short nod before they both focus unblinkingly back on me with their mouths pressed tightly together. I make a face. Maybe they don't know much about being human. Not blinking for a few seconds isn't that impressive.
Suddenly, their mouths drop open and from each unfurls the longest, greyest, grossest tongue I’ve ever seen.
“Yeck!” My face twists, and I pull my head back. At the same time, they burst into laughter. I start at the sound, staring between them. Even though he looks very boyish, Qim’s voice is deep and bassy. His laugh rolls over me in round waves, settling like a downy blanket across my nape. Ah’dan’s voice, however, triggers an electric thrill that settles low in my pelvis and has me squeezing my legs together beneath the table. It’s full and musical. His head falls back, and the bump in his throat bobs as he releases those achingly beautiful sounds. I watch the movement of his sculpted neck, and, for a moment, it’s like he’s the only person I can see.
“I do not think she minds our laughs as much as our tongues, sa’qi.”
I shake out of my stupor to find them both watching me. Qim’s expression is amused. Ah’dan’s is intense. His nostrils flare a bit.
“Indeed. She has a very vivid scent. It—lingers.”
“It does,” Qim agrees, and I have no idea what they’re talking about.
“My scent?” I look to Qim for explanation, but it’s Ah’dan who answers, forcing me to look at him again.
“That would be another of our species’ particular abilities. In addition to increased speed, long tongues, and pleasing laughs, we also have a heightened sense of smell. It allows us to scent the emotions of others. We can tell if you are scared, happy, sad—aroused.”
My pussy clenches involuntarily, and I poke at my food to cover the sudden tremor. “Why would you need to know all that?”
“Our culture is one that is heavily reliant on refraining from harming others. Our sense of smell allows us to know how we affect those around us. We are a pleasing people,” he finishes easily.
“I can see how that can come in handy. What about the speed?” I ask.
“That also comes in handy, as you say. It allowed my brother to save his dahni, our nephew KJ.”
I nod. I’m glad he was able to do that. “And the tongues? Do you have super taste or something?”
Qim grins widely, that gap on full display. Ah’dan’s mouth merely ticks up on one side.
“Our tongues also serve a purpose. As I said, we are a pleasing people.” He holds my gaze, and a vibration moves from my feet up to the top of my head as my mind conjures up images of Ah’dan doing some particularly wicked things with that tongue. My lips go slack, and a moment later, the warmth of saliva collecting at the corner of my mouth snaps me out of my head, and I rush to close it and swallow before I drool all over the myself. Across the table, Ah’dan continues to watch me with a knowing smile.
***
“I will clean the kitchen since you prepared the meal.” Qim starts to clear the table, taking my plate and collecting the others before carrying them into the kitchen. I’m left with Ah’dan who, if I’m being honest, has a serious staring problem.
“So, tell me some things about yourself, Niya.” The sudden question catches me off guard, and I stare stupidly for a second before gathering myself. His voice slides over me like the brush of a feather, whisper soft, but triggering my most sensitive receptors.
“What do you want to know?” I finally manage after not being able to think of something worthwhile to say.
“Whatever you would like to tell me. How do you spend your time?”
I shrug. “The same way most people do, I guess. I work, come home, relax. Grocery shop. I don't know, everyday stuff.”
“Hm.” I can't tell if he thinks my life is as boring as it sounds. He fumbles with the tasseled edge of the woven placemat. “Do you not have any hobbies or things you enjoy? I would know more of you. I understand that our presence has disrupted your routine, but if you were not housing us, what would you be doing right now?”
I think about my usual night, but feel too embarrassed to admit how I spend most evenings. Across from me, Ah’dan’s expression softens.
“I do not ask to embarrass you. I only wish to know what you enjoy. We are a pleasing people, remember?”
I question how he is so able to read me until I remember about the scent thing.
“Honestly, most nights, I come home, kick off my shoes at the door and head straight to the shower. I’m usually too tired to draw a bath, but sometimes I get up the energy to do it, maybe throw some bubbles in there. If I eat—”
“You should always eat,” he cuts me off, and I laugh a little.
“I don't always have the energy, but when I do eat, it’s something small, a piece of fruit, a packaged salad. Then I just relax before bed. I’ll have a glass of bourbon sometimes, listen to some music, read a book.” Masturbate, I say in my head, but he doesn't need to know that part.
“What is this bourbon?” Ah’dan asks, and from the kitchen where he has been quietly cleaning, Qim looks over with interest.
“Oh, it’s like liquor. Do you guys have liquor?”
“We have forms of libation, yes. This bourbon is what you prefer?”
“That’s my drink,” I confirm with a nod.
“And what does it taste like?” He seems genuinely curious, and I realize that they’ve told me some things about themselves and blown my mind with their amazing food. It might be my turn to wow them a bit.
“Do you want to try it? I have a really good bottle I’ve been waiting to open.” I stand and go over to the small drink rack I keep by the entertainment system in the living room. I’m a little excited to share something with beings from another planet, and I pull out the bottle of Kentucky straight my father got me for my last birthday and grab three highballs from the glass rack. I bring them back to the table and set them down, twisting off the pull tab on the bottle. It uncorks with a soft pop, and immediately, the smoky warmth colors the air in front of my nose.
Ah’dan leans forward, and Qim comes from around the island.
“That smells very good,” the latter says.
“Yeah, it does,” I return with a smile and pour us each a finger of the amber liquid. I take one of the highballs and hold it out to Qim then the other to Ah’dan. Our skin brushes lightly as he takes it, and I pull my hand away then lift my glass with tingling fingers. “Now this is very very good bourbon. It has a kind of smoky, sweet, spicy flavor. I’d suggest sipping it. You know, try to savor it a bit.” I demonstrate by taking a small sip and rolling the liquid through my mouth. My eyes close as the warmth tingles my gums and tongue. I swallow, sighing around the trail of gentle fire that's left behind. Nodding, I open my eyes to find both guys staring at me again.
“Perhaps, this is something I should enjoy in private,” Qim murmurs, and I burst out laughing.
“And here I thought I had already heard the most beautiful laugh in existence,” Ah’dan says softly, almost to himself. He looks pained, and I clamp my mouth shut.
“I have a big laugh, sorry.”
“Do not apologize fo
r something that lovely,” he says with comical seriousness, and I feel my cheeks pull. “Don't apologize, saeh'ti.”
Qim turns and gives Ah’dan a strange look, and I clear my throat around the awkwardness of how intently he's looking at me.
“Drink,” I remind them, nodding my head to their untouched glasses. They raise them at the same time. Qim does as I demonstrated, sipping slowly and holding the liquid in his mouth. Ah’dan, however, with his eyes firmly on me, tilts the entire glass back, tossing the liquid between his lips and swallowing. The perfect, sienna planes of his face barely flinch when he’s done. His eyes, though, they burn bright, and I feel the heat all the way to my core.
“Wooo,” Qim blows out, bobbing his head. “That was the business.”
I snort, breaking eye contact with Ah’dan to gape at him. “Where did you learn that?”
He grins widely, seemingly pleased that he used the expression properly. “Amina has been teaching me the wonders of Black American English—Ebonics. I am a linguist on my home planet.”
“Really? You look so young!” I don't know why I’m so shocked, like anything about his alien life would be what I imagine.
“I am twenty-five Lyqa years, nearly twenty-eight Earth years. Among my people, that is more than enough time to have entered any number of careers.”
“Wow,” I know I still look surprised, “that’s great. I mean, I guess at your age, some human adults have their lives together, but linguist is impressive. Is that how you know each other, from work?”
“Qim works with my younger brother, Kwarq, who is also a linguist, among other things.” He smiles like he’s enjoying a private joke. “What is your profession?”
“Oh, I’m a librarian. I work at the city library.”
“A librarian is one who defends those who are accused of crimes?” Qim inquires. I shake my head.
“That’s a lawyer. A librarian is someone who categorizes books and helps people find things they want to read. Do you have librarians on your planet?”
“We do have those who maintain records, yes,” Qim supplies.
“What about lawyers? Do you have those?”
They both make faces that imply they find the very idea offensive.
“Ours is a kind, peaceful society. We have no need for legal repercussion. It is up to every Lyqa to right their wrongs,” Qim says.
“That’s amazing. I wish it was like that here. What about you? What do you do?” I direct to Ah’dan. I’m trying to spread my conversation evenly between the two, but it’s hard when he’s looking at me that way he is.
“I am an artist, saeh'ti,” he supplies, and his eyes shift into a lazy blink. They’re droopy and sexy. They make him look like he hasn't a care in the world, while at the same time, giving him the air of someone who likes to get what he wants.
“Is that what you were carrying when you came in, a canvas?” I point to the large, still-wrapped square propped against the far wall. I wondered what it was when they first came, but I worried it was some weird alien shit, so I didn't pry.
Ah’dan’s head bobs in short affirmation. “I am beginning to think it may be my masterpiece. Perhaps, the most important work of my existence.”
Again, Qim gives him a look like the things he’s saying are strange, and I sit transfixed under Ah'dan's unwavering stare. He's not just looking at me. He's looking directly into my eyes, and forcing me to look back. I couldn't look away if I wanted to. I need something to do, some way to distract myself, so I lift the bottle and tilt it toward him.
“Want some more?”
"Later, perhaps. I believe your mother is here.”
“Hm?” I frown just as a frantic knock sounds out at the door making me jump and gasp in alarm.
“Niya! I hear you in there. Open this door! What’s going on in there?”
I scramble from my seat, searching around for a place to hide the bottle in my hand. Ah’dan and Qim watch me calmly, and when they continue to sit, I stop and wave my hands at them.
“What are you doing? Don't just sit there. Hide!” I drop my voice to a tipsy whisper. They both look amused as they look around.
“Where would you suggest we hide? I do not know that there is anything here that would cover us.”
My mother knocks again. “Niya!”
I groan and slap and hand over my forehead. “Go to my bedroom. Keep quiet. Go, go, go!”
I shoo them again, and they finally rise from their seats and begin leisurely making their way to the hall. I watch them until they’re nearly at my bedroom then turn and dash to my front door. Twisting my face and pulling my eyes wide to appear sober, I pause with my hand on the knob and take a deep breath. As I pull the door wide, I release a loud yawn.
“Hey, Ma. I was sleeping. I didn't hear you knocking. What are you doing here?” I try to look surprised, but the words don't come out as easily as I want. I kind of slur my ’s,’ and my mother narrows her eyes on me.
“I’ve been calling you all day. Why didn't you answer?”
I frown, trying to think of where my phone is. I put it on silent when I went to work, and once I got home, I was with the Lyqa and forgot to turn it back on. I smile to myself. I kind of like them. It’s been a long time since I had a chill evening, and I’d like to get back to it, but first I have to get rid of my nosy ass mama.
“Ma, I am allowed to not answer my phone. You can't just show up at my house like this.”
She turns on me, leaning into her hip. “I am your mother. You trying to tell me I can't come to my own daughter’s house if I want to? I have to call and get permission.” She humphs like it’s a crazy idea that she might actually have to be invited to my house. I roll my eyes, but when she starts into the living room, I jump in front of her before she can notice Ah’dan’s bags sitting by the couch.
“Ma, why are you here? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Oh, I came to talk about your brother. I think we should try and convince him to sue for custody of KJ.”
God, this woman is killing my buzz. I take her arm and lead her to the table, pushing her down into the seat then lean forward and give her as serious a look as I can muster.
"How you gonna do that when he won't even answer your calls?"
She looks away in embarrassment. "That's not true. He's just busy."
“Ma, you have to stop." I'm shaking my head at her rebuttal before she even starts.
"It's not right the way Tiani just ran off with that boy—"
"Ma!" My voice rises, cutting her off. "Stop it! Your shitty ass son hasn't seen or spoken to his child in nearly four years. Four years, Ma!”
"Now—"
"No, no," I’m in no position to argue with her. I can tell that my inhibitions are low, and I feel years of frustration bubbling up from my tipsy last nerve. I can't be bothered with coddling her. “I know you don't want to face it, but Kamar is not a good man; he never was. He got Tiani pregnant and left her like she was nothing, and she wasn't nothing. She was my best friend and his wife and a person. I get you miss your grandson, but tough luck. He isn't yours. We have no claim to his or Tiani's life, and quite frankly, as much as you act like she's the one who's responsible for your son being a coward, she's been very generous to even let us see KJ. Leave her alone. Let her live her life. If you even try to ruin Tee’s life any more than he already has, I—”
A loud thump sounds out from the direction of my bedroom, and I snap out of my lecture. My mother, who was looking more and more shamed by the second as I spoke, draws back in alarm before looking behind her.
“Is someone here?”
“No,” I lie, looking to the side and back. “That was probably ol’ girl next door fighting with her boyfriend.”
I feel bad for putting Cris on blast like that, and I'm about to amend my excuse, but then I hear my door click open and whine loudly on the hinges. I stare across the room, unsure of what to expect. Movement sounds out, and a shadow inks the wall, getting closer and shorter
until it merges with the tall, nearly naked form of Ah’dan. Why doesn't this dude ever have clothes on?
He’s in his little boxer things that do nothing to hide the unsettling swell in his crotch. When he left a moment ago, he at least had on pants. I stare, paralyzed, as he comes to stand fully in the living room. His hair has been a little tousled, and his droopy eyes give him the appearance of having just woken up. My mother twists all the way around, looking from his bare feet the long way up to his head.
“What the hell is going on here?”
She can't see me shaking my head cause she’s too busy gaping at the ridiculous specimen of a man who was definitely supposed to stay in my room. I scramble up from my seat, coming around to distract my mother before she can look too closely at him.
“Ma, oh, um, this is my friend, um—”
“My heart, I did not know your mother was coming by. You should have wakened me.”
I stand still, my face fixed as he pads easily over to me. I’m not sure what he’s about to do, but I’m not left guessing long when he bends down to pull me up by the waist and press a kiss to my mouth. His lips are soft and full. They touch mine with a firm surety that has me closing my eyes and leaning into it. I grip his arms, and even though he really just pecks me, it feels like the kiss lasts forever.
He sets me down like it’s nothing, holding my gaze for a moment, then turns to my mother with a wide smile. I’m left reeling and stunned. My entire body vibrates, and I cross my arms to keep from trembling.
“I apologize for my state of dress, ma’am. I am Ah'dan, a friend of your daughter's and the reason she has been remiss in answering your calls. It is good to meet you.” He leans down and gives my mother a kiss on the cheek, and she looks so flustered that despite my own state of discomposure, I almost laugh.
“Oh, well, it’s nice to meet you, too.” She looks up at me, and her light brown skin is flushed with a bit of color. I raise my eyebrows and lift my hands to my sides, taking advantage of the excuse he's offered me.
“See, Ma, that’s why you have to call ahead. Who knows what I may be doing.”