a caring gesture
I kissed him because I needed to distract him, I remind myself. As much as the brothers aren’t under his control, they’re still part of his body. I figured a shock to the system might get them to release me.
I turn my head to him as we sit side by side, wrapping the cords meant to tie me down for my next heat. He flicks his tongue past the sharp point of his fang in some gesture of concentration. I remember being surprised at how gentle the kiss was with a mouth as intimidating as his.
I kissed him to calm things down, right?
His face was shocked when I finally pulled away. There was something else behind the shock that I had a harder time reading, too—maybe just confusion about what the hell I was even doing to him.
Most alien species don’t kiss, some even find it insulting or unsanitary. Before the war on the Deenz, they kept us in more centralized bunkhouse stations when we were off rotation. The other girls were at the same Deenz station as my group of bubble dancers that first night.
Trembling with fear, exhausted from endless tears in my cramped bunk, I cautiously eavesdropped on their hushed conversation. An older woman was giving one of the new brothel girls the ins and outs of the game. She was running over a list of the few species that kissed in space. It was short, and she had warned the girl that some aliens might even hurt her if she attempted it.
I remember being glad that I wasn’t in her position, that all I had to do was dance.
At least Kitaico didn’t look disgusted with my gesture.
And the kiss worked, didn’t it? The brothers released me, and I think they’re even listening to me now…as weird as it is to say. One of them, the left tentacle, sits on my thigh like a house cat. I slide my hand over him, thinking the occasional pet can’t hurt, can it?
My hand strokes up the appendage, feeling the texture of the skin that sits over the rippling muscular tube. It’s not as soft as my skin, but it feels like a well-worn piece of leather. Thick and pliable with lots of give. I absentmindedly let my hands trace a bit higher, wrapping my fingers around his tentacle. My fingers don’t touch as I attempt to close them around the girthy tube, and I slide a hand down its length.
As my palm moves against it, Kitaico stiffens.
“Leeenuh,” he whispers.
“Yeah?” I ask, rubbing small circles over the tentacle’s tip in my lap.
“I–I assume you do not understand, and I do n-not wish to embarrass you…” Kitaico stutters, stumbling a bit over his words. “But if you continue to caress my foretentacles, I will need to be excused to finish the job myself. Such touches make my cock throb with an intensity I don’t think I’ve ever known before.” His eyes darken as they meet my own.
My hands fly up into the air, dropping the brother in my lap. As if ungrateful for losing my touch, the tentacle winds its way up my wrist and pulls my hand back down.
“I didn’t know you could feel them…which, now that I’m saying that out loud, sounds so incredibly stupid,” I mutter, pushing the tentacle out of my lap.
“Thank you,” Kitaico says with a sigh of relief. “I don’t expect you to know much about my people, as I know little about the humans, either.” He focuses his hungry eyes on his work, knotting the cord over the purple alien sea sponges.
“Can I ask you what you did earlier? When you pressed your mouth against mine?” he tries to say nonchalantly.
So, he’s still thinking about the kiss, too.
“Oh, that was a kiss,” I tell him, bringing my pointer and middle finger to my lips.
“Kisth,” he says softly. “What does it signify?”
What does a kiss mean? The question spins in my mind. God, what, doesn’t it? I’ve kissed in moments of pure joy, the taste of laughter lingering on my lips. I’ve kissed in moments of grief when the tears mingled with the bittersweet touch. And in moments of unbound rage, a collision of lips instead of fists. But as I gaze into his eyes, I sense he’s not seeking the meaning of any ordinary kiss. He wants to understand what our kiss truly meant.
Was it only to catch him off guard?
When Kitaico wasn’t here earlier, I panicked. For better or worse, he's now my protector—and I think I wanted to kiss him.
“A kiss is a sign of affection,” I tell him, unsure how to mime out that sentiment.
Putting my hand over my heart, I tilt my head and make an “aw” noise, hoping there’s some universal understanding.
Kitaico’s eyes drift back to my own, his brow cocked.
“Indigestion?” he asks.
I stifle a laugh and shake my head no. I look at the giant confused alien and open my arms.
“Can I hug you?” I ask him.
He might not understand me, but he leans closer, and I wrap my arms around his back, rubbing along his spine.
With a slight pause, he inhales sharply before settling his chin on the top of my head. Sitting on the floor of the cave, our contrasting heights are starkly evident.
“This is the same as a kisth?” His breath fans over my hair.
I nod, still holding my arms around him.
“Care. A kisth is for those you care about?” he says, wrapping his arms around my body, copying the movements of my hands on his back.
“Yes,” I breathe, his touch doing more to my senses than I want to admit to myself.
“If that is the case,” he says, pulling back and tilting my chin up with his hand, “let me return the gesture.”
A slow, agonizing buzz resonates in my ears as Kitaico leans in, his lips meeting mine with deliberate slowness. As our bodies turn against each other, I can taste the salty tang of the ocean on his lips. As he withdraws his hand from my chin, his fingertips gently glide through my hair. He presses harder into me, his foretentacles grabbing my hips.
