Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Shathar
While Fiona talks with her friend Marguerite some feet away, I dance. And dance. It takes over me, this need to move, to feel, to dream. I am liquid, one with this wild, frenetic music, and I hope it never ends.
Karakka. This is good stuff that Fiona gave us.
Khesan stands beside me, also enjoying himself without speaking.
He whirls, twists, and turns in a way that’s joyous and without a care.
His youth shines through in moments like these.
He is free, and I remember how that feels, to be free.
His more muscular body is visible with his short shirt, each muscle flexing as he moves.
It was like this last night, as well, when I watched him behind Fiona, his abdomen rippling with each thrust of his hips.
I could even feel him inside her, and I didn’t mind. It is a strange thing that we have both mate bonded with the same woman. It seems to have eroded many walls between us.
I wish Fiona would return, as all I want is to throw my arms around her and hug her. I want to hug her, and then kiss her, and then drink some more water, I think. But my eyes are fixated on Khesan’s body now, how easily he moves it, and I lick my lips.
I wonder what Khesan would taste like.
“Yes, Shathar?” he calls over the music, smirking. “You have been in one place for some time.”
“Sorry.” I tear my eyes away and start dancing again.
Khesan just laughs. “It is making me feel strange, too, don’t worry.”
“Good strange?”
He nods. “Good strange. And you?”
“Good strange.”
This time, his smile is genuine, and the same hands that wanted to touch Fiona all over are now, quite suddenly, seeking him out. I brush a palm over his exposed belly, and Khesan’s yellow eyes fly to mine.
Quickly, I retract my hand and step away, not sure what came over me. Fiona has moved even farther off as she talks to Marguerite, but the scent of mate is still strong in my nose. It’s so strong, in fact, that I start to get hard.
Khesan cocks his head as he comes to a stop. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know.” I swallow, putting distance between us. “I need water.”
He studies me for a moment longer, but doesn’t press the issue of my touching him. “Then let’s get water.”
We wander off together toward the bar. Fiona gave us each a few dollars in Earth money so we could buy things for ourselves tonight, and I use a lot of it on a single cup. But the cool liquid feels incredible going down my throat, and Khesan and I both chug ours at record speed.
Then we navigate back to the music hall to find Fiona again. We manage to locate Roth’kar, as he is tall and his purple-blue antennae are easy to spot.
“Where is Fiona?” I ask Amara.
She shrugs. “Sorry. Don’t know. She and Marguerite might have gone to the calm room.”
In that case, perhaps they need time alone. Khesan moves like he’s going to find her, but I grab his arm to stop him.
“She will return when she’s ready,” I assure him.
We resume dancing, and now he is watching me, too.
We dance closer, as if some force beyond my control is pulling us together, and I can’t help thinking how good his waist looks bare, how much I appreciate the way his large pectorals fill out his shirt.
I have not found many other male Arshurians attractive before, but Khesan is a fearsome opponent in that arena.
It is hard not to imagine that Fiona will choose him. He is good to look at and soft toward her. He cleans and cooks, and I know he would make a fine husband.
“Shathar?” asks Khesan, stepping closer to me in the throng. “You look concerned.”
I shake my head. “It’s nothing.”
But now we are even closer together, and the scent of mate is getting stronger. Khesan sets a hand on my shoulder and strokes it with surprising tenderness.
“I’m sure she is fine,” he says, misinterpreting my expression.
But that is not what I worry about. I worry about how this will end, the pain that I’ll endure when I’m sent home to Arshur.
I shrug him off, feeling sorry for myself. But Khesan remains close, tilting his head to peer into my face.
“Something else bothers you,” he remarks over the pounding of the music.
“It is fine.” I breathe out and then in through my nose to calm my heart. I ought to enjoy this moment as much as I can, because who knows how long it will last.
“Turn around,” says Khesan in a bossy voice.
Taken off guard, I do as I’m told, showing him my back.
Clawed hands find my shoulders, and Khesan’s strong fingers dig into the muscle there.
His touch is warm, firm, and yet somehow soft.
My whole body sags as he presses down with his thumbs, working the tension out of me.
He does this for what feels like many, many minutes, simply showing me kindness.
Then Khesan leans down so his mouth is very close to my ear. “Feel any better?”
“Yes,” I breathe, my whole body feeling much, much hotter than a moment ago. “I do.”
His hands smooth down my back and then he releases me. Immediately, I miss his touch. But now we are dancing much closer together, both of us moving feverishly in time with the music, and for just this night, I can forget how it all ends.
This time, Khesan’s hand lands on me—on my hip, above the tie of my neon green chaps. He doesn’t move it, though, and I wish I knew what it meant.
Then Fiona rejoins us, but she is alone.
“Where is Marguerite?” I ask, peering around.
“Resting. She’ll join us soon. After the show, would you two mind if we went to her house? She’s going to have an afterparty.”
I am not sure what this “afterparty” is, but I can glean the intention. We both nod in agreement and welcome Fiona into our dance circle. Soon, Amara and Roth’kar enter our dancing circle, along with Amara’s friend Kendall.
The frantic pump of the music takes over, and I crave nothing but to touch.
I wrap my arms around Fiona and hold her close as we dance, and she giggles as my erection rubs against her butt.
When we part, Khesan spins her around, and she squeals with wild delight.
It is a pleasure to watch them twirl and then hold each other close.
For a moment, it’s as if we are all inside the same circle of joy.
Midnight comes, which is when the New Year begins, and everyone cheers as the musician on stage counts down the seconds.
“We’re supposed to kiss at midnight,” Fiona tells us, so when we reach one second left, I pull her against me and smash our lips together.
She squeaks with pleasure. When I release her, Khesan does the same, whirling her into his arms to kiss her with all the love in his body.
It’s obvious how much he cares for her, the same as I do.
The party winds down after that, until it’s nearly two in the morning, but I am still very much awake and buzzing with energy.
“Afterparty time,” Fiona singsongs.
She calls for a car to pick us up, and when we step out of the hot warehouse and into the fresh air, I exhale with relief.
It’s cold out, but a good kind of cold. Still, Fiona’s human skin is sensitive, so Khesan and I stand around her to keep the wind off her while we wait with the rest of our party.
Soon, we are on the way, driving through the city and then the neighborhoods beyond it. The van stops at what appears to be Marguerite’s house, and Fiona grabs Khesan’s and my hands as she hops out and leads us to the front door.
“Welcome,” Marguerite says as we all step inside her home. “The party’s downstairs.”
Sure enough, in her basement, there is a wide room full of pillows, some big enough for an entire body or three to lie on.
Fiona flops down on one of these enormous pillows, sinking into it.
She waves for us to join her, and I sit beside her, also disappearing into the pillow.
It is filled with small objects that cushion us.
“Beanbag!” Fiona exclaims, sprawling out on her back as Khesan joins us on the other side.
“A bag full of… beans?” My translator supplies a small starch in an odd shape.
“Not real beans. I don’t know why they call it that.” She beams at each of us with her blunt white teeth. “I’m so happy I got to do this with you guys. I had the best time. I am having the best time!”
She curls an arm around each of us and tugs us in closer, so now we are both up against her sides. Another happy giggle tumbles from her lips. Khesan grins over her chest at me, and I smirk back. She is our lovely mate, through and through.
We are joined in the basement by Amara, Roth’kar, Kendall, and Marguerite, who all take up different positions in the lounge room. Roth’kar and Amara are making out while Kendall and Marguerite chat.
“Amara!” calls Kendall. Amara detaches from her husband’s mouth long enough to look up. “What if Zono moved in with me? I have an extra room, and I’d be happy to have some company.”
Roth’kar sits up abruptly. “You would allow that?”
“Of course. You want him off that ship, right? And he needs a sponsor?”
Roth’kar nods.
“Then I’ll be his sponsor. Maybe we’ll hit it off.” Kendall looks delighted by this prospect.
Relief courses through me. For now, I can keep my room in Fiona’s home. Not that I use it anymore except to store my belongings.
“Sounds like a good plan, then,” says Amara, clapping her hands. “We’ll tell him right away. Then we can organize his travel.”
But I am no longer interested in the conversation.
The zik is moving through my veins, and all I want is to hold my wife, to kiss her and keep her close to me—so I do, enveloping her with my arms and pressing my lips to hers.
She hums with pleasure, and her hands curl around my neck as we deepen our kiss.
The night goes on like this for a few more hours, all three of us cuddling on the beanbag as soft music plays.
Marguerite brings water and juice to rehydrate us, then offers snacks, too.
But soon, she grows tired and retires upstairs.
Kendall has fallen asleep, and so has Amara.
Roth’kar sits beside her, simply looking down into her face with love in his eyes.
How I envy them, so assured of their happily ever after.
It isn’t long before Fiona, too, fades. When I glance at her again, her eyes are closed and she’s breathing slow, even breaths.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” whispers Khesan, stroking her hair.
I have to agree. She is the most beautiful creature that exists. And she looks even better with Khesan spooning her, his hands cupping her tenderly. They are both so lovely together, his yellow eyes peering down at her, his strong hand trailing up and down her side.
Just then, something inside me breaks.
How can I leave this? How can I possibly return home with this memory following me as long as I live?
I get up from the beanbag, my emotions suddenly overwhelming. I cannot look at them any longer. So I head for the stairs, when Khesan’s voice stops me.
“Where are you going?”
I shake my head, unable to speak more than one word. “Outside.”
Without hesitation, he rises and follows me. I don’t know how I feel about that, but I need to extricate myself from this place before my tumultuous feelings undo me.
We both slip on our new jackets, and Khesan follows me out into the cold. Marguerite’s deck is covered, so at least we do not have to wade into the snow. I find a chair to sit in, and it’s all I can do not to roar my misery at Earth’s single moon.
“What troubles you?” asks Khesan as he takes the chair beside mine.
I don’t even know how to put the anxiety I feel into words.
“At least when I return home, I will see my friends again,” I say, my voice hitching as I speak. “At least I will be on Arshur.”
He appears perplexed. “When you return home?”
My tongue is tied inside my mouth, so I say nothing else.
“You are so certain of this. Do you miss it?”
I nod because it’s true. Of course I miss the familiar, the place I grew up, the place I lived my entire life. I do miss my old store, and my few friends. But what I have found here is so undeniably perfect that nothing on Arshur calls my name anymore.
“The food here is good, but what I wouldn’t give for a pound of kibud.” Khesan sighs. “There’s nothing like that here.”
He’s right. Kibud is a sour, spicy sweet that I also find myself longing for. It was my favorite treat after a filling dinner.
“Our weather, too,” I say. “This snow is novel, but I won’t mind the warmth of the sun on my skin.”
Khesan frowns. “Why are you so sure that you will be the one returning to our homeworld?”
I curl my hands into fists, almost unable to say the words. But I have to.
“Because I will concede,” I say at last. “Because I will choose to go home, so that Fiona does not have to decide. So that it will not weigh on her conscience.” I swallow hard. “So that she can be free to be with you for the rest of time.”