Chapter 17
Grayson
“Don’t,” Grayson warned. He slid into the barstool next to Jenna, whose face was perfectly split between incredulity and I told you so.
“I didn’t say anything!” she protested.
“But you were going to.” Grayson waved the bartender over—an Omega of undetermined gender with soft, periwinkle scales and ghostly indigo markings up their shoulders and upper back.
It could have been Grayson’s imagination, but the Mer seemed to be fighting back a grin.
“What can I get you?” they asked. A glinting name tag on their chest read “Kir.”
“Make him that mulberry mint thing you made me!” Tara interrupted. “You have to try it, it’s incredible.”
Kir eyed Grayson for approval.
“Sure, sounds great,” Grayson muttered. The bartender was definitely smiling now.
“You got it,” the Mer said.
As they worked, Grayson buried his face in his hands. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“I can,” Jenna offered unhelpfully.
Grayson glared at her from between his fingers.
“What? The sexual tension between you guys is basically visible to the naked eye. Under a blacklight, at least.”
Grayson groaned. “That is so not what I need to hear right now.”
“Why?” Tara asked. “Was it bad?”
Grayson’s forehead hit the bartop. “No.”
“Good?” Tara probed. “Amazing? Incredible? Life-altering?”
“Based on how fast he was tying those knots, I’d go with option four,” Jenna said. “Hey, Kir, you said Ke—Tuiket was pretty popular around here, right?”
Of course she’d already befriended the bartender.
“He is in high demand,” Kir responded. “That’s for sure.”
Grayson could hear the suppressed laughter in the Mer’s tone.
“Your friend here might have annoyed some of our Omega clientele by monopolizing Tuiket.”
“He even uses a fake name when he comes here?” Grayson mumbled. “That sure says something.”
“Apparently most people use a fake name here,” Jenna said. She sounded like an overeager anthropology student. “Tara and I were just talking with Kir about it. We’re going to come up with names for each other! You want in?”
Grayson sighed and sat up straight, just as Kir placed a purple cocktail in front of him. “Keld already knows my name. I think it’s a little late for that.”
Kir smirked. “So that’s his real name, huh?”
Oops.
“Are you implying that you’ll be coming back here for Tuiket?” Jenna asked. “Very interesting, considering you look like you’ve gotten into my great grandma’s rouge.”
“No! I—well—I don’t even know if I’m coming back after today,” Grayson lied.
Both women looked crestfallen. “But there are so many fun workshops.” Tara pushed out her bottom lip. “And you enjoyed this one so much…”
“Oh my god.” Grayson turned his attention to his drink. Minty sweetness flooded across his tongue without a hint of alcohol. Dangerous.
“Come on, you’re not going to give us anything?” Jenna complained. “We’d tell you if things were the other way around.”
“Yeah, I know you would.” He glanced over at Kir, who’d walked off to chat with the enormous Alpha from the shibari demonstration.
“Fine.” Grayson stared hard at the muddled contents of his glass.
“We went back to a private room. He tied me to the bed. He only used his mouth and hands. We didn’t have actual sex, and it was still probably the best sex of my life. Happy?”
Jenna and Tara wore identical expressions of delight.
“Holy shit, that sounds so hot.” Jenna fanned herself. “But are you okay? I mean you don’t usually do that kind of thing.”
“He was nice to me, if that’s what you’re asking,” Grayson said. “Kept reassuring me we could stop if I was uncomfortable.”
“Wow.” Tara propped her head up on her hand. “So why exactly do you look so unhappy about it?”
“I don’t know!” Grayson threw his hands in the air. “I’m just used to keeping my sex life a secret, and I’ve been so mad at him for the way he acted on our date, and now I feel like… like…”
“A slut?” Jenna suggested.
“Gee, thanks.”
“I’m not saying you’re a slut, just that you might feel like one.”
“How about we talk about something else,” Grayson said loudly. “Where’s Aureli?”
Jenna giggled. “He took his lady friend home right after the class ended. You might want to buy some earplugs.”
Grayson heaved a sigh. “What about you two? No one catch your eye?”
“Nah, not this time,” Jenna said. “Tara’s been ogling the bartender, though.”
“I have not,” Tara said, outraged. “I have been politely appreciating them.”
Grayson blinked at her. “But, aren’t they an Omega?”
Tara shrugged. “Every hole is a goal and every knob is a job.”
Jenna choked on her drink.
∞∞∞
“I can’t believe we’re finally getting some Loaish lessons!” Tara’s voice hummed with caffeinated energy, unmatched by everyone who had yet to finish their coffee.
“Just the medical terms,” Jenna reminded her. Her eyes had drifted shut. “We’re still not allowed to really speak it.”
“I already know one thing in Loaish,” Aureli said. “Oisye aspi’wasi.”
“Which means?” Jaeyong asked, brow raised.
“Give me your cock.”
Grayson snorted. “Of course that’s the one phrase you know.”
“I thought cock was iaka.” Jaeyong seemed to realize what he’d said a moment too late. A red flush crept into his face.
Aureli grinned. “That’s a male Alpha’s cock. Aspi is female. Now, care to tell me how you know that?”
Jaeyong was rescued by Rorith entering the small conference room.
“Good morning, students. Who’s ready to butcher some Loaish?”
Aureli and Tara raised their hands
“Perfect, because that’s what we’re here to do.” An outdated smartboard whirred to life, and a list of Loaish terms blinked into existence. “You may have heard a few of these in passing, but most of them will likely be new to you.”
Rorith’s satin brown scales caught the light, throwing tiny rainbows across the walls and ceiling. He was the only Mer Grayson had seen with scales like that, though he’d never dared ask Rorith about it.
“First, most important word is nuaia. Everyone, repeat, noo-AI-ya.”
The five nurses obeyed with varying levels of success.
“Good!” Rorith said. “Well, not really, but close enough. Anyone recognize this one?”
“Infant?” Jenna called out.
Rorith confirmed her guess with a golf clap. “Correct. Nuaia means “infant” or “nymph,” as Mer babies are often called in English. So if nuaia is “infant,” how would I say “infants,” plural?
There was a beat of silence.
“Noo-ay-yuhs,” Aureli said, the corners of his mouth twitching.
“Actually, close. To pluralize in Loaish, you just need to add “-sh.” So, the plural of nuaia is nuaiash.”
The sight of Tara scribbling away on her clipboard jolted Grayson into gear. He hastily scrawled the term onto the handout in front of him and noted the plural ending.
“Next, some other familial terms.” Rorith pointed a blunted claw to the next line on the board. “Here, we have noa and nuone. Any guesses?”
“Rorith, it’s like 5 a.m.,” Jenna groaned. “I barely remember English right now.”
“It’s 6:30, but point taken.” Rorith cleared his throat. “Noa and nuona are Alpha son and Alpha daughter respectively. Then, there are the terms for Omega son and Omega daughter, aneru and ainia. The general, neutral term for any child regardless of sex or gender is ainuo.”
“Why are there so many words for children?” Jaeyong muttered, his pencil scratching over paper.
“Because we have two more categories than you,” Rorith retorted. “Or, had, I suppose.”
“What about the word for pregnant?” Tara asked.
“I’m getting there! Patience.” Rorith tapped the next line. “Parental terms. Alpha father is reio, Alpha mother is riue. Omega father is jaei and Omega mother is jiei. To refer to a pair of female parents, you use the term reish, and to refer to male parents, jaish.”
“Slow down!” Grayson protested. “They’re already starting to sound the same.”
Rorith grinned. “Ah, I love being the newbie lead.”
When they’d finished writing, Rorith forced them to repeat each word until he was satisfied before moving on.
“Wait, you didn’t tell us the word for a male-female couple,” Tara interrupted.
Rorith hesitated. “That was, and frankly still is, frowned upon in Mer society. There was no word for a heterogender pairing until relatively recently, and it’s still not completely recognized. The word is jaresh.”
The five of them blinked back at Rorith.
“I didn’t know that,” Jenna said with a frown. “Why would anyone care if a pair is the same gender?”
“Same reason humans seem to dislike non-hetero couples.” Rorith shrugged.
“You can’t look for logic in it. The main argument was that male-female couples are capable of producing any of the four combinations, while same-gender couples only produce one gender.
Something about destabilizing the population. ”
Guess bigotry is a universal trait. Grayson’s mind offered up flashes of confederate flags in his neighbors’ yards, and bumper stickers on lifted trucks that never did compensate for their owners’ fragile egos.
“Male-male couples only have male children?” Jaeyong asked, shocked.
Rorith’s brows lifted. “You didn’t notice?”
Now that he’d brought it up, Grayson himself had failed to notice the pattern too.
“I…” Jaeyeong paused. “I guess I never really thought about it. And we had a few male Alphas with daughters and female Alphas with sons, so…”
Rorith nodded. “But all those Alphas had a human Omega partner. The rule doesn’t apply to interspecies couples. A human Omega can give birth to any combination of sex and gender.”
Jaeyong just stared blankly at his notes. Grayson suspected he wasn’t accustomed to getting things wrong.
“Wow.” Aureli fell back in his chair. “I can’t believe they didn’t teach us that.”
“You’d be surprised what your programs fail to teach you about Mer biology,” Rorith said wryly. “Right, next word. Bua is a male Omega’s reproductive orifice, and vua is a female Omega’s.”
In Grayson’s periphery, Jaeyong’s face had taken on an entirely new level of scarlet.