Ahdan

by Nikki Clarke

  “Do not worry, it is a Lyqa feature. We are—abundant.” He lifts his head and kisses me quickly before rising and standing beside the bed. I lay prone, afraid to move. “Saeh’ti, it is no reason to be fearful. I will clean you.”

  He disappears from the room, naked as all day, and returns a moment later with a warm, wet towel. I laugh inside that he wet an entire towel, but then I don't think a washcloth would have cut it. He wipes me down and then pulls me from the bed. When I continue to stare in shock at him, he rolls his eyes and gets my robe, throwing it over most of my body and lifting me into his arms.

  “Perhaps bathing would make you more comfortable.”

  I nod and wrap my arms around his neck as he laughs and carries me from the room. The hall is empty for the brief moment we cross to the bathroom. Once inside, he turns on the tap and unwraps me.

  “I will have to take you to Lyqa sometime. Human bathing pools are clearly not meant for the joy of sharing. Wash quickly, and we will wait for you to eat." He swats my butt, and I step into the shower. As I let the water cascade down my body, I hear him turn on the sink, and I peek out to find him washing himself clean. A moment later, the door opens and closes.

  Immediately, I cover my face with my hands, grinning into my palms. I can't believe the past two days have been real. Not only have I had my mind blown with the knowledge that there is life on other planets, galaxies even, but I’ve let two aliens stay at my house, and one of them effectively set up shop between my thighs.

  “Oh, my god,” I whisper and hope that it’s covered by the sound of the water. I don't even know how I’m going to live my boring little life from now on.

  I geek out for a few more minutes then wash quickly. Wrapped in a towel, I dash across the hall to my bedroom where I dress in a pair of leggings and a loose sweatshirt. I two-strand twist my hair into two plaits down each side of my head, letting the puffy ends hang against my neck, and head out into the hall.

  They’re playing music again. It’s my Saturday Jam list, and I smile that they probably imagine that I only play this list on Saturdays. It lends truth to the claim that their people are really concerned with pleasing others. As if I didn't have enough proof of that claim already.

  “She is here.”

  I hear Qim announce me before I emerge from the hall, and I wonder what scent tipped him off. As I round into the kitchen, Ah’dan meets me, pulling me up against him and lowering his mouth to my ear.

  “While I love scenting your arousal at all times of the day, you are driving Qim insane.” It’s not an admonishment. He almost sounds amused. I push him away, slapping out at his arm.

  “I can't help it,” I mumble, and he laughs, wrapping an arm around my back and leading me into the dining room. Qim looks up and smiles, but I avoid his gaze and quickly move away from Ah’dan to take a seat. I glance around the room, letting my eyes fall everywhere but on the other man.

  “Do not let my sa’qi embarrass you. I am not displeased by your scent, nor am I bothered by it. I am happy that you are happy and that someone has finally managed to distract my friend from his lehti.”

  “Qim,” Ah’dan frowns and says something in their language. Qim’s face shows surprise, but he quickly schools his features before turning to me.

  “Are you ready for your meal?” He moves toward the kitchen, clapping a hand on Ah’dan’s shoulder as he passes. Ah’dan watches him walk around into the kitchen then turns to me. His expression is uneasy.

  “You okay?”

  “I am fine, saeh’ti. Let us eat. I am sure you must be hungry.” He sits, but now he’s the one avoiding me. He stares at some point beyond my head, and we remain in silence until Qim comes from the kitchen carrying three plates. He sets one down in front of me first, then Ah’dan, and then takes a seat with his own plate.

  I look down at the meal and tilt my head. “Is this human? I mean, is this Earth food?”

  “It is bom, a plant from our planet. This preparation tastes very much like your breakfast meal of eggs.” He lifts his fork and takes a bite, chewing satisfactorily and nodding for me to do the same. Hesitantly, I lift a forkful and slide it between my lips.

  “Mm.” It tastes very similar to cheese eggs. I chew slowly, looking for differences in texture, but there aren't many. “It’s good.”

  Qim nods. “I am pleased you enjoy it.”

  We eat in silence for a while longer. Ah’dan shovels food into his mouth robotically. Finally, Qim clears his throat.

  “Do you have plans for the day?”

  I look up from my plate. “Oh, I don't know.”

  Actually, I was planning on doing what I do on every first Saturday of the month. I was going to hit up free day at the art museum, but I think it’s safe to say that plan is scratched with two aliens in the house.

  “You smell regretful. Has our presence disrupted some plan you had?” It’s the first time Ah’dan has spoken since his exchange with Qim.

  “Well, I usually go to the art museum.”

  His expression lifts, and he perks up. “Art museum? This is a place where art is displayed?”

  “Yeah. It has work from all over the world. It’s really cool, and it’s free,” I finish with a wiggle of my eyebrows.

  “We can go to this museum?” He leans forward, looking like an eager kid, and I have to hold my mouth closed to keep from laughing.

  “Sure, we can go. I mean, if you think it’s okay. Tee said you guys have been here before, and I guess you look human enough; although, I don't know where the hell you’d be from.”

  “We usually refer to any of the countries on your continent of Africa. We find that most have no understanding of where they are or what the people who originate from those places look like. Additionally, we find that we can generally fit in with the peoples of any of these countries.”

  I snort. “That’s because you look like everyone.”

  “Well this is fortunate as it makes it possible for us to move comfortably about your planet while receiving little more than curious stares,” Qim adds.

  “Okay, then let’s go. It might be fun.”

  They both nod, and Ah’dan stands from the table. “I will bathe and dress to leave then.”

  Once he’s out of sight, I turn to Qim. “Is he okay?”

  Qim’s toffee cheeks flash a soft pink color, and I start at this new show of alien.

  “It is a reaction of embarrassment,” he gestures to his face. “I spoke out of turn earlier. Please forget what I said.”

  “Hm.” I drop it but wonder what could be so bad that it shut down Ah’dan’s entire mood. I can only think of one thing—another woman. I'm sure like humans, aliens can have relationship baggage, too. I don't voice my suspicions but instead rise from the table. “We should probably get dressed, too.”

  I go to my bedroom and am surprised to find Ah’dan pulling a pair of jeans up his muscular thighs. He buckles them at his hips, and they sit just at the sharp V that extends down the sides of his lower torso. He goes to his bag and takes out a large pair of canvas shoes and fits them on his bare feet. When he’s done, he straightens and looks at me.

  “Do you need to change your outfit?”

  I make a face and look down at my leggings and tank. “What, this isn’t good enough?”

  He smirks and eats up the space between us to haul me against him. “You are beautiful however you are.”

  This doesn't feel like a line, and my chest swells with the impact of his words. I feel beautiful with him holding me like this.

  “You should put a shirt on. We kind of have a thing here where you have to be fully dressed to get in places.”

  He releases a short chuckle and presses a smacking kiss to my mouth before lowering me back to my feet. He goes to his bag and pulls out a crisp, white V-neck, which he pulls over his head, every muscle in his chest flexing, before heading to the door.

  “I will wait for you in the living room, saeh’ti.”

  I try not to take long
, but I have a hard time deciding what to wear. Despite being dressed in a mere pair of jeans and t-shirt, Ah’dan looked like a damn super model before he walked out of my bedroom. It’s not like I’m trying to match his fly, but I don't want to be the dowdy human.

  I quickly settle on flirty casual, so I don't look like I’m trying too hard. I pull on a pair of worn, strategically frayed jeans. Like all of my jeans, I’ve had them altered so that they fit my ass and hips but also cinch at my waist. They stop just beneath my navel, and I pull on a grey, ruched bandeau top. The bunched material stops beneath my ribs and leaves my shoulders and arms bare. Unfortunately, I’m not too blessed in the boob department, but when I turn to my floor-to-ceiling mirror, I’m happy with what I see. I flip the bottom of my jeans up to give the look a little edge and slip my feet into a pair of leather slides. I glance down at my canary yellow toe polish and thank the Universe that I got a pedicure earlier in the week.

  When I undo my twists, I'm left with tight spirals that I rub with a bit of curl creme then pin up high on my head. I pull down my short curly bangs and tie a brightly colored scarf in a large bow just above them.

  Since the acne gods blessed me with a consistent enough life of breakouts that I like to wear a bit of makeup to cover up the hyperpigmentation, I smooth my face with a blurring tinted gel, dab on a bit of blush and hit my eyelashes with a couple of coats of mascara. When I am satisfied that I look amazing, but not like I tried to, I step out into the hallway and stroll into the living room.

  “Ready?” I ask as I root around in the large, woven sisal bag hanging from my shoulder. When I finally locate what I’m looking for, a tube of shimmery pink lip gloss, I twist it open and swipe my bottom lip, over saturating so I can share it with the top one. It’s quiet, and I look up to find Ah’dan and Qim staring at me. “What?”

  Qim eyes me up and down then turns to Ah’dan and says something in their language. Ah’dan’s eyes shift back and he sucks his teeth then comes to meet me where I stand just behind the couch.

  “You will have to get through me, first,” he mumbles in English as he gets to me. “Let us go before I tackle Qim to the ground and ruin your furnishings.”

  Qim laughs, and we follow him out of the apartment. When we get in the hall, I start to make my way to the elevator, but Qim and Ah'dan stop. I turn to watch them with a curious frown.

  "What's wrong?"

  Ah'dan focuses on me and a moment later Qim does the same. They both join me on the way down the hall.

  "Everything is well. We merely wanted to check that things were in order across the hall," Ah'dan replies as he ushers me to the elevator. He presses the button and waits.

  "I don't think she's coming back this time, but if she had, what were you going to do, kick down the door?"

  "Yes," Qim says simply and when the elevator opens, he steps inside like it's nothing.

  ***

  “I like the colors in this one. It’s my favorite.”

  Me, Ah’dan, and Qim stand in front of a large canvas. The surface is painted with a series of bright neon rectangles that contrast and overlap. I tilt my head, looking for new angles I haven't seen before.

  “Whoever painted this is very skilled. This blend of color here,” he circles his hand around a particular area, “is masterful. You have a good eye, saeh’ti.”

  “What does that mean?” I turn away from the painting to face him. Qim, who is standing to my other side, looks at Ah'dan and then at me before clearing his throat.

  “I believe I will view the paintings in that section of the gallery.” He indicates the furthest corner from where we are and heads in that direction. I frown after him before looking at Ah’dan again.

  “Is it something bad?”

  “It is not bad, Niya. It is a term of endearment, but a very particular one.”

  My eyes narrow automatically. I don't think I like where this is going. “What kind of particular?”

  He sighs and shifts to the painting to our right, focusing on the impressionist scene. “It is what one calls the being they are sexually involved with but not romantically linked to. In my culture, this is not an insult,” he rushes to add, but I can already feel my expression shifting.

  “So, it’s what you call a fuck-buddy?” An unexpected surge of hurt washes over me. I know it hasn't been long enough for us to consider ourselves together, but it stings to have what we are labeled so practically. It doesn’t help when he nods. My eyes widen and shift to the side, almost looking to see if anyone else is hearing this shit.

  “It is a term reserved for one’s sexual partners, yes. It is not said in disrespect or to imply that the relationship is not of importance. It merely indicates the nature of two beings' attachment.” He looks back at the painting like that’s a sufficient excuse. I stare at the side of his face for a moment before lashing out and punching him in the arm. He flinches and frowns down to the spot then at me.

  “Why did you strike me?”

  “Uh, I don't know,” I reply, spreading my arms wide, “you basically just called me your side chick.” My voice rises a bit and a few people look over. A sister with waist-length Senegalese twists looks in our direction and raises her eyebrows before turning slowly away.

  I turn back, mortified, but Ah’dan is there. His large chest crowds over me, and he takes my face gently in his hands.

  “You are not my side chick. You are a beautiful woman who has given me the privilege of knowing her body. It is not something I take lightly, and while I cannot lay claim to you in any other way, I am happy at the opportunity for this closeness with you. If we are talking literal translations, saeh’ti would mean ‘most beloved lover,’ which to me, you are.”

  “Damn.” The exclamation has me spinning around to find that same sister looking forlornly at us. She blinks, her eyes going a little glossy. “Does he have a brother?”

  I laugh and point to where Qim stands on the other side of the room. “His brothers are taken, but he has a friend.”

  The woman follows my arm, and when her sight lands on Qim studying a large, metal sculpture, her eyebrows raise again, and a wide smile pulls at her mouth.

  “Okay,” she croons and heads off in that direction.

  “Your people are beautiful.”

  I turn to find Ah’dan looking at the woman walk away.

  “Thank you. I think so, too.”

  “I mean Black people,” he amends.

  “I know.”

  His gaze softens on me again, and he slides his hands around my hips and fits them over my ass. “Are you and I okay?”

  I twist my lips to the side, but smooth my hands up his chest. “I guess. Only if you promise that it’s not a rude endearment.”

  “It is not. I would never disrespect you in such a way, ever.” He presses a short smacking kiss to my mouth and releases me, stepping away. “This is trash,” he says indicating the painting he was looking at before our little moment. I snort out a laugh.

  “Dude, that's like one of the most famous paintings in human history.”

  “It is sloppy,” he says with roll of his eyes and turns away to view the next one. I smother a laugh and follow him through until we find Qim. As we approach, the woman from earlier is walking away, leaving Qim staring after her. He turns when we reach his side, looking a little perplexed.

  “You good?” I ask, looking at the retreating woman and back to him.

  “Are there factions of humans who are cannibals?” He seems concerned, and I feel my face pull into a confused grin.

  “Uh, I don’t think so, anymore. Maybe some secluded groups. Why?”

  His frown deepens. “That woman just called me a snack.”

  I burst out laughing, disrupting the quiet of the gallery. A security guard stationed in a corner shoots me a look. I duck in apology and face Qim again.

  “You’re hilarious. That just means she thinks you’re attractive.”

  “To be a snack means that one is appealing to the eye?” He
isn't convinced.

  “To be a snack means that you look good enough to eat.”

  He seems to think about this for a moment, and then he smiles widely. “I think I understand.”

  “I definitely understand,” Ah’dan murmurs beside me, and I look up to find him watching me with that intense golden gaze. A wash of heat blankets over me, and I use the gallery map in my hand to fan at my chest.

  “I’m just going to run to the ladies. I’ll be right back.”

  Ah’dan and Qim stand against the wall, and I rush into the restroom, jogging to one of the stalls. I have to pee something fierce. I jerk several pieces of tissue free to coat the toilet seat and plop down, sighing as I start to pee. Hanging out with aliens is throwing me off. They can walk forever, they barely eat, and I’ve been holding this pee for nearly an hour. I was too nervous to leave them alone, so I waited until we were through the gallery to go. I wipe and get my clothes in order before exiting the stall.

  As I open the door, another woman is exiting across from me. We end up at the sinks together, and as I wash my hands, I feel her looking at me. I meet her gaze in the mirror and offer a short smile.

  “Your husband is gorgeous,” she offers as we shake our hands over the basins.

  “Oh, uh, he’s not my husband, just a friend. He’s from out of town.” I don't know why I’m telling her all of this. I feel like I should head up any questions she may ask before she asks them. Her expression lifts, and her mouth pulls down a bit.

  “Oh, he isn’t? Do you know if he’s seeing someone?”

  I narrow my eyes as what she’s trying to get at becomes clear.

  “I think so,” I return dryly.

  “That’s too bad. Maybe I’ll give him my number anyway.” She says this mostly to herself as she snatches a paper towel from the machine and haphazardly dries her hands. I watch in stunned silence as she saunters out of the bathroom.

  I grab my own paper towel and rub it briskly over my hands and wrists before pulling open the door and stepping out into the lobby. Across from me where I left Ah’dan and Qim, the woman stands in front of them. She has her phone out and listens as Ah’dan tells her something. A second later, she pockets the phone and waves before walking off. I march across to where they stand and lean into my hip.