Now that he thought about it, Jason did. "What is the climate like on your world?" Perels didn't seem overly fond of clothing.
"It varies depending on the region, but overall warm and moist," Ferran said. Their plates arrived: Ferran's small with a colorful display of fresh vegetables and a delicate citrus dressing, and Jason's with a filet of what looked like salmon, but probably wasn't, given their distance from the home system. There was a salad for him as well, and a small side of long-grained rice. It was a meal reminiscent of home, and Jason found himself enjoying it.
Much to his surprise, he enjoyed the company even more. Florence was right; Ferran was an excellent conversationalist. He moved easily from topic to topic, answering Jason's questions about Perelan fully, but not going overboard, and asking his own questions about Jason's home. Before he knew it, he found himself describing the Jacksonville colony and his family's home there.
"It's a challenging place to live," he admitted, "with the storms and the rapid shifts in temperature. The entire planet is closed to further development, mostly because homesteaders don't take the warnings seriously enough and settle in places that can't be tamed. Jacksonville and Buquetti are the only colonies of any size left, and more people choose to leave than stay."
"Do you miss your family?"
"I'm the last member of my family to live there," Jason said. "We were among the original colonizers, but after the first few generations, most of them chose to move on. My parents died long ago, and I am their only child. I don't spend as much time in the house there as I'd like to."
"Tell me about your home," Ferran requested softly. Jason opened his mouth to begin, but then his chrono chimed.
"Oh." Time had completely gotten away from him. "Excuse me. I have to be on the bridge in five minutes. Thank you for dining with me." He folded his napkin precisely and pushed his chair back.
Ferran stood with him. "Will you join me tomorrow evening?" he asked.
"I had planned on eating in tomorrow." Jason saw the sparkle in Ferran's amber eyes dull a little and shocked the hell out of himself by continuing, "Would you care to dine with me?"
"I would be very pleased to join you," Ferran said, his lips curving into a sweet smile.
"I'll send a crew member to escort you. Enjoy the rest of your evening." Jason turned and walked away, wondering what he was getting himself into by inviting a Perel to his rooms. Probably nothing more than a comfortable evening together. He had no doubt now that it would be comfortable, and perhaps another presence would help to exorcise some of the bad memories he had of his own space.
He wouldn't tell Florence about it, though. Her head was big enough as it was.
Jason was sure the following morning that Florence knew exactly what was going on, but she graciously spared him the third degree and focused on running the cruiser instead. They were five days out from Ishtar, but had plenty to do: managing ship functions, overseeing the health and wellbeing of their passengers, and keeping an eye on their course. Cruisers like this practically flew themselves, but unexpected gravity waves could shift the most meticulous plans, and Jason thoroughly rechecked their course every shift.
The only indication that Florence gave that she knew about her captain's dinner guest was a cheerful, "Enjoy your evening!" as she took over for him on the bridge. The closest Jason came to commending her for being a busybody was his quiet, "Thank you," before leaving. As he reached his rooms, he paged Kayle and asked him to send an escort for Ferran.
"Certainly, Captain." All of Kayle's voices registered satisfaction. For the first time, Jason wondered how concerned his closest crewmembers had been about him that they were suddenly all smug over a simple dinner invitation. He took off his jacket and stood uncertainly outside his bedroom door, wondering if the occasion called for changing into more casual clothes. Jason eventually decided against it. He didn't want to seem too welcoming. On the other hand...
Jason realized what he was doing and frowned. This was not a date. There was no reason for him to change, or for him to be hesitant over what to wear, or for him to be nervous at all. This evening was nothing more than cultural exchange, the chance for him to learn more about an alien race. When he was in the fleet, he'd loved having the opportunities to visit new worlds and new peoples. The war had changed that, though, and now he was content to run his routes and return to his isolated home whenever he could. That sort of reclusive life hadn't appealed to Blake for long, although he'd hidden it well. Still, Jason should have seen it coming. He should have seen more.
Jason left his formal shirt on, undoing the top button and pushing the sleeves a little ways up his arms. The kimchi was ready to go. He'd had it fermenting for a while and didn't want to stain the shirt. Apart from that, he'd prepared japchae, a noodle and vegetable dish that could be eaten cold, and there was hot water for tea. After a moment's consideration, Jason brought out his celadon-glazed cups instead of mugs. He set them on the formal dining table, considered the lonely effect, and then moved the cups and plates to the bar separating his kitchen from the living room instead. There were stools to sit on; it was formal enough. He slipped a reed placemat under each plate, and then consciously made himself stop fussing. Ferran would arrive any minute now.
The door chimed, and Jason felt himself relax a little. He walked over, and the door slid open, revealing Ferran and a concierge. "Thank you, Nori."
"My pleasure, sir," the concierge replied, and then he was off down the hall.
Jason stepped back and motioned the Perel inside. His guest was dressed in a warm brown color, the fabric close and clinging like a jumpsuit would, but made from a far finer material. The neckline was high, but Jason could see that Ferran's back was still bare. The quills seemed more sharply delineated that evening, less feathery and soft than before. He wondered about the body language of a Perel, and how close it was to a human's. Was Ferran nervous? Jason felt his underused abilities as a host reappearing. "Thank you for coming."
"Thank you for the invitation," Ferran said just as formally.
Jason berated himself as a poor purveyor of small talk and tried again. "Are your cousins taken care of for the evening?"
"They undoubtedly will be," Ferran assured him. "Your staff has been most attentive, and they have made many friends here."
Jason was a little curious as to whether 'friend' in this context, was a synonym for lover, but after his faux pas the night before, he didn't feel comfortable asking. "I'm glad they're enjoying themselves." He motioned toward the kitchen. "The table felt too big for only two. Do you mind eating at the counter?"
"Not at all." Ferran walked beside him to the other room, his lively eyes taking in all of his surroundings. "Your quarters are very elegant."
Jason smiled. "Are you sure you don't mean sparse?"
"Not at all. The openness makes one feel welcome, freer to move than in a place with clutter. The furnishings are simple, but very well-made." He sat down on the stool at the counter and placed his hands on the blue-veined marble, smoothing over it lightly. "It suits you very well."
"I'll take that as a compliment." Jason retrieved the hot water and poured it into the teapot. "Would you like some tea?"
"Yes, please." Ferran's gaze fell on the plates of colorful kimchi. "Is this what we're having for dinner?"
"Part of it." Jason brought the plates over to the counter and sat down next to Ferran. "I was wondering, are you vegetarian?"
"That means I don't eat meat?" Ferran waited for Jason's nod. "No, although I rarely choose to eat animals. Did you make this vegetarian for me?"
"When I make kimchi, I usually prepare it without meat, but the rest of the meal is vegetarian as well, just in case," Jason said. Ferran's quills perked a little bit, and he smiled at the admission. "It is spicy, though."
"That's all right. Is this a popular food for humans?"
"For some humans. My ancestors came from Korea, and kimchi has been prepared there for thou
sands of years."
Ferran took a small bite, just enough to taste. He smiled suddenly. "It's sweet!"
"It's not always prepared sweet, but I like it that way."
"I like it, too." He took another bite. "Tell me more about Korea."
"Oh no," Jason refused, lightening it with a smile of his own. "I want to learn more about Perelan. There's very little information about your home world on the register. Fewer than a dozen Terrans have been allowed to visit your planet since we first made contact almost a century ago. The only times we ever see you are at the trading station in orbit or when Perels like you and your cousins leave to sightsee. By all accounts, you're a very passionate people."
"You're very diplomatic," Ferran said. "It's true; when we get the chance to travel, we're often... overzealous, especially at first. But you must understand, Perelan is a highly insular society. There aren't many of us--fewer than a million now--and males outnumber females five to one." He paused to take a bite while Jason poured the tea. "We were a patriarchal society until our civil war, almost a millennium ago. Over eighty percent of our population was destroyed, and our scientists were very... uninhibited with their biological attacks. Of those who survived, over half were left sterile. Genetic manipulation since then has improved the situation somewhat, but not much. We are now ruled by a council of matriarchs, and by law, all Perels who are capable of reproducing are kept on Perelan."
Jason frowned slightly. "Does this mean..."
"Yes, Captain. I'm sterile. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here."
Judging from Ferran's tone of voice and formality, Jason guessed he'd struck a nerve. "You're my guest this evening, Ferran. Please, call me Jason." That got him another small smile. "Have you enjoyed your time away from home?"
"Immensely!" The Perel's tone and ears perked right up, and his quills became silky. "There's far too much to see, though. It was so hard to choose."
"How long have you and your cousins been traveling?"
"Nearly one of your standard Terran years."
"Where have you visited?"
"Many fascinating places." Ferran began to describe their trip, starting with the departure from Perelan, and Jason felt mildly smug at putting his guest at ease. Ferran was interesting to listen to, his descriptions fresh and open. Perels who went abroad were generally catered to, as they gave very freely of themselves and their money. Jason was glad to hear that Ferran hadn't had any truly bad experiences.
The empty kimchi plates were exchanged for the japchae, and more tea was poured. Ferran ate with a good appetite and complimented Jason on his cooking. They compared notes on the places that both of them had visited, and after several hours, Jason had moved them down to his much-neglected, but very comfortable, couch for dessert, which were small cups of chocolate mousse.
Ferran devoured his helping as politely as possible and scraped the cup thoroughly. "I like sweets," he sheepishly explained.
"Next time, I'll make more," Jason said.
"Next time?" Ferran's ears perked again, and his eyes widened even larger.
"If you're interested," Jason amended, slightly surprised at himself.
"Very much," Ferran assured him. "You're wonderful company."
"I'm glad you think so."
"Everyone seems to think so. Your crew speaks very highly of you."
Jason shrugged. "They're paid to work with me."
"It's more than that," Ferran said. "I can feel their respect when they talk about you. They seem very protective of you. The man who escorted me here felt rather concerned that I not do anything to make you uncomfortable."
"Ah." Well. That was sweet, and more than a little embarrassing. "Most of them have been with me for several years." At least a year of him with Blake and a year without. No doubt, the contrast was more severe than he realized.
"Then surely they know you well enough to have formed a reliable opinion."
"I suppose." Jason was tired all of a sudden. He'd done more talking this evening than he had for the past week, and he didn't feel like doing any more introspection.
"It's late. I should leave you." Ferran stood, and Jason rose with him.
"Would you like an escort back to your suite?"
"No, thank you. I can find it," Ferran replied. Jason walked Ferran to the door, grateful for the chance to be alone again, but feeling a little guilty over it as well.
"Will we dine again tomorrow?"
Jason sighed. "Not tomorrow. I have the evening shift. Is the day after all right?"
Ferran's quills sharpened slightly. "The day after is fine for dinner. May I join you tomorrow for lunch?"
"Won't your cousins think you're abandoning them?" Jason asked lightly.
"We've been together constantly for nearly a year, and anyhow, they have each other. I want to get to know you."
Jason had the feeling he was being paid another compliment and didn't really know what to do about it. "Lunch will be fine. I'll let you know when I'm free."
"Thank you." The door opened and Ferran turned toward it, paused, and then turned back. "On Perelan, we have a special gesture for goodbyes. It's a bit like a human hug, but less tactile. May I show you?"
"Sure."
Ferran leaned his upper body close to Jason's and turned his head slightly so that their right temples touched. Jason felt the intense heat of Ferran's skin and the warmth of his breath on his cheek. It seemed to fill and soothe him, but then Ferran was drawing back. Jason wanted to follow him and just barely stopped himself.
"Goodnight," his guest said softly.
"Goodnight."
Ferran left, and Jason leaned against his closed door. His whole body was aching for that tender warmth, and he felt his first erection in far too long growing. He sighed. It was going to be a rough few weeks.
Jason gave his crew a day of leave once they reached Ishtar. All of the human passengers were disembarking there, since no humans were allowed to visit Perelan without a ridiculous number of permits. With only the three Perels to take care of, the crew's workload was minimal. He was rather surprised when Florence said to him, "I'll stay with the ship this time."
"You love visiting Ishtar."
"I'm coming back after we finish at Perelan." Her expression was completely ambiguous as she continued, "I thought you might like to show Ferran around some. Since he's never been before."
And never will again, the subtext shouted loud and clear. Jason wondered just how much Florence knew about Perel culture. Probably more than he did, and after five days of nearly-constant company with Ferran, he felt like he had learned quite a lot.
Jason found it inexplicable. Ferran seemed to want nothing more than to spend time with him. His cousins were working their way through the humans like it was a competition, and morning-after descriptions of incredible sex were becoming commonplace. It was only them, though. Ferran kept to his cousins or to Jason, which made some of the passengers pout and his crew brazen enough to wink at him from time to time. One officer even threw him a knowing look and an offhand comment about his privacy that made Jason want to yell, "I'm not fucking him!" Because he wasn't. Not that he didn't want to, at this point.
They'd eaten at least once a day together ever since that first evening. Ferran had joined him for lunch, and then, after his shift was over, had surprised him with an invitation to dessert. The dining hall had been deserted except for the two of them, and they'd stayed up for several hours, long after Jason was usually asleep. It had made his next shift a little trying, but Ferran cooked for him in his quarters the next evening.
"I didn't know you cooked," Jason commented as he sat and watched the Perel saute button mushrooms and some sort of crystalline grain he'd never seen before.
"Cooking was one of my responsibilities in my mother's household, and probably will be again when I am married," Ferran replied.
"You're getting married?"
"At some point. It's expected," the Perel d
emurred, stirring slowly. "Fertile females take many husbands. Those who can breed occupy themselves with caring for the children; those who cannot, take care of the household. Our females are highly educated, far more so than... anyhow, when my cousins and I return, we'll be the right age to be married. Ney and Parr are already promised to someone."
This information didn't sit at all well with Jason, despite telling himself he needed to be tolerant of other cultures. "Why do they let you leave?"
"Our mothers have learned that it is in our best interest to allow us some freedom before our marriages. Those who can afford it send their unmated sons to travel beyond Perelan; those who cannot, make do with a period of liberty on our home world. I'm very fortunate to be here."
His words said 'fortunate' but his tone was low, and Jason had learned when Ferran's quills went completely flat like that, Ferran was sad or disappointed. He stepped in behind Ferran and put one arm gently around his shoulder, saying nothing, just holding and offering support. Ferran's quills fluttered against his arm, but the wide smile he turned on Jason was reassuring.
That had been their first embrace but not their last. Ferran seemed to crave touch, and whenever they met after that, Ferran greeted him with a hug and left him with a Perel farewell. They watched a movie together one evening on the couch and ended up with Ferran's head in his lap, his body curled up in a ball. Jason hadn't done anything more than rest his hand on the back of Ferran's neck, but Ferran had seemed happy with it.
The tension between them had been clear, but Jason was positive Ferran wasn't going to make a move, not after their awkward first conversation a week ago. Jason wasn't sure he was going to make a move either, honestly. Yes, his body was very interested. His mind was engaged, and he found Ferran to be a fascinating person, but casual was difficult for him. Unfortunately, casual was all that was possible with the Perel. Jason had to decide whether it was enough, and Florence had given him the perfect opportunity to do that.
Ferran was clearly surprised by the invitation out, his eyes going wide as his quills flared.
Wild Passions Page 18
