It Doesn't Translate (Tattooed Corpse Stories) by Ofelia Gränd

Author:Ofelia Gränd
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Gay sci.fi, Gay space pirate, alien human romance, interspecies romance, M/M sci-fi romance, gay sience fiction
Publisher: Ofelia Gränd
Published: 2018-08-31T00:00:00+00:00

Burning Chili Fruits

NOIR WANTED TO GRAB Max and take him home—except his home was far, far away and he wasn’t sure Max could endure the journey. Humans and space journeys didn’t always turn out well, or that was what he’d heard. Taking him to Bair’s ship was out of the question, and Max would never agree to go upstairs when he had work to do.

“Max, I think we need to talk.”

“Seriously, bud, I have a lot to do right now, and I don’t want to talk to you.”

Bud? Noir touched his ear despite knowing it would do nothing for the translation chip. Bud translated as part of a plant. “I don’t think bud translates properly.”

“I don’t care, poppet. Now get out of my sight.” Max showed teeth, but his eyes didn’t look aggressive.

Noir’s head spun, everything about Max was a contradiction. “Poppet translates as some kind of doll used in witchcraft.” It didn’t make any sense.

“I know, confused the hell out of Quam the first few times.” More teeth.

“I’ll wait until you’re ready to talk to me then.”

Max groaned, not a happy groan, but Noir was sure he could coax one out of him if he were given a chance—though, who knew how a happy groan sounded. He was out of his depth.

“When I’m saying I don’t want to talk to you, it means that I never want to talk to you.”

Noir bent down and smelled the skin on his neck—he smelled warm, soft, and at least a little bit willing. He’d work on that. “I’ll wait in the restaurant. I’ll be at Quam’s table.”

He nuzzled Max’s neck one more time before leaving the kitchen. How would he explain this to Max? Nekoids didn’t have to mate to stay alive, many never found their mate at all, and many who had found their mates had a close but platonic relationship. Once a mating bond started forming, there was no going back, though. It was an unbreakable bond and it would always be there even if Max rejected him.

He blew out a breath and nodded to a large Cochleaoid slithering in through the door—harmless, vegetarian species with slimy greyish green skin and eyes on antennas.

Slumping down on the seat across from where Quam usually sat, he blew out a breath and cradled his head. What was he to do? Humans didn’t have mating bonds, they were known for their inability to stay in a relationship, for their untrusting ways. He couldn’t just tell Max he was developing a bond, that he didn’t realise he was doing it until today, but it was definitely there, and that Max now should live his life with him—no, he couldn’t do that. Fuck. And what would he do about Bair? And the smuggling ring? He had to tell Zall.

Zall would know what he should do.

¤¤¤

Max ran up the stairs as soon as Noir went back into the restaurant. Quam was sitting in the small kitchen they had for themselves. “Why the fuck did you leave me with him?”

“I thought he was going to tell you.

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