2016 Top Ten Gay Romance

Captive by T.A. Creech-3

“Jahstan.”

Justin looked at the open doorway, unsurprised to see Sajah, the silver-eyed alien that had bound him at his ship’s wreckage, entering his tiny hovel.

Two weeks ago, when they’d marched Justin through the circular cluster of the village, bound as a prisoner, he wouldn’t have anticipated befriending any of them, let alone one of their leaders. Captive as he was, however, Justin didn’t begrudge the natives their wariness.

His hut was small, sparsely furnished, and the food left much to be desired, namely meat, but he hadn’t been mistreated. Besides, there was a window at least, and Justin found some amusement at watching the natives at his most bored points of the day. Watching the warriors train in the clearing, just visible between the two adjacent huts to his own, Justin had been able to glean a small amount of information about his keeper, Sajah. The alien had to be very high in the command chain, if the diffidence the warriors paid him was any indication.

As the hulking native approached the small table on the far side of the hut, Justin rose to his feet to meet him. “Hey, Sajah,” he greeted with a light chuckle. “Talk?”

They’d taken him down to the river yesterday to bathe and lie in the sun, something that had become a ritual since he arrived. He wondered, idly, if that it was custom among these people to be so fastidious with hygiene or if his human odor was just that offensive. At any rate, it wasn’t bath day, and his morning meal had already come and been devoured, so he was leaning toward ‘social call’ for this visit.

“Slept?” Sajah began with his customary questions. The ‘L’ was just above too soft to hear and the ‘T’ was more a click of Sajah’s teeth than a solid consonant, but Justin understood it all the same. It became easier with each interaction to decipher the nuances of Sajah’s valiant efforts at a new language.

“Yes, very well, thank you.” He wasn’t lying either. There was a soothing vibe to the whole area and even the quiet sounds of the wild animals in the distance seemed to add to the calmness. Almost too peaceful, truth be told.

“How are the villagers?” Not that he had really met any of them but it was a good conversation starter and a question the being knew. Anuht, his primary guard, tended to keep him away from the others whenever Justin needed to leave the hut, which was usually only to go to the stream to bathe. But he saw them at a distance, busy with tasks around the place, guarding the perimeter, cooking. He and Anuht had been lucky enough to run into one or two of the inhabitants. The handful of encounters always went the same though. His guard would call out a greeting, at least that’s what Justin assumed, and the other being would answer back. Justin said his hello, hoping the sentiment was conveyed. The alien would answer in kind, but with a lowering of the head and none of them would meet his eyes.

Well, Justin hoped that it was just because he was new to their world and the villagers were uncertain of him. For now, he had time to earn their trust, provided he avoided a lethal faux pas or broke some major taboo.

Sajah fixed him with a knowing look, mouth upturned slightly at the corners. “Same as last time suns rose.” His words were heavily accented, struggling over the vowels.

“Which is?” Justin huffed and motioned towards the door, irritated. “All I do is see you guys work. Gathering, fixing, patrolling. Something interesting has to happen around here.” He turned pleading eyes on Sajah, hoping he understood even half of what Justin was trying to tell him. “Tell me anything, anything at all. Hell, I’ll even take scuttlebutt at this point.”

Sajah laughed, the sound a deep and pleasant rumble. “Hetanah give clan two new small ones as dark came.” The pride in his eyes was easy to see. “Ranteh is first to come. Nihja is second.”

“Babies?” Justin grinned at the confused look Sajah gave him and tried to indicate standard human baby size with his hands. “That’s what humans call new small ones like,” and he stumbled over the names a little, the foreign sounds still not comfortable on his tongue, “Nihja and Ranteh.” Delighted, Justin waved at his companion. “What do they look like? Colors?”

Sajah’s nose crinkled in a captivating way and Justin scrambled through his still woefully inadequate native vocabulary for the words he needed, but Sajah smiled. “Red is Nihja. Red as jatta.”

“Jatta?” And then it clicked. “You mean the color of that fake pomegranate fruit you tell me I don’t have to peel to eat?” Justin chuckled. “That’s very red.”

“Ranteh is night like me.”

“Night? Oh! Black!” Impulsively, Justin reached out and caressed a tendril of Sajah’s crow black hair that had fallen over a large shoulder. Sajah growled softly, eyes flashing hot and Justin jerked his hand back as his face paled. “Sorry. That was really f*****g rude of me.” He clenched his hands together in his lap to hide their trembling and to resist the unfathomable urge to bury his hands in the unexpectedly silky mane. Damn.

The alien shook his head and grinned. Slowly, Sajah reached out in turn and gently laid his hand on the black shirt Justin was wearing, careful to keep his sharp talons sheathed. “Blahck.” One more caress and Sajah pulled away. “Nahnet is same.”

“Huh.” Justin’s smile returned. “That’s an easy word.”

“Nahnet is empty to be filled. Same as blahck, same as night and no stars.” Sajah’s eyes unfocused for a moment. “Same as rri. That change soon.” Suddenly, Sajah stood. “Patrol.”

Justin rose with a nod, confused by the abruptness of his friend leaving, and walked Sajah to the door. “Of course. Be safe.”

Sajah leaned down and softly rested his forehead against Justin’s with a rumbling breath before striding out. Baffled by the gesture, Justin turned away, deciding to read one of the few books he’d salvaged from the Nitti. Justin had a strange feeling that he missed something in that exchange, but the language barrier made it hard to suss out exactly what it was. As he lay back on his cot to read, he firmly decided not to dwell on it. Probably just quirks of the culture.