Page 2 of Close Encounters of the Sexy Kind
They followed the females to a section of the beach where a fire blazed. Others had gathered there. Some reclined on the sand; others sat crossed-legged and held sticks near the flames. Several looked up in mild interest as they approached.
He felt Quintus tense beside him when one man waved a long, thin stick over the flames. He relaxed moments later when the male removed the blunt and slightly charred white tip and stuffed it into his mouth.
“Yo, dude. Sick tats, man.”
The one who spoke was male and human, like the others, with unkempt hair and a noticeable glaze to his eyes.Not a threat.He was staring in dazed fascination at the gray stripes on Tiberius’s skin.
“Sick?”
“Sick asfuck, dude. You must really be into tigers. Or sharks. Or tiger sharks.”
From the male’s expression and the agreeable nods of the others around him, Tiberius took the odd words to be an approval of sorts. He made a mental note of that. Understanding the language was imperative to mastering any civilization.
The gaze of the man sitting next to him dropped downward and widened. “Shit, dude. Put the monster away, yeah? You’re making the rest of us look bad.”
Beside him, Quintus smirked. Tiberius suspected his friend’s thoughts ran in a similar vein to his own. Humans, while similar in general anatomy, were smaller and weaker than their kind. Judging by the vexed, somewhat envious expression on the male’s features, that distinction encompassedphalli, as well.
“Alas, we find ourselves without proper vestments.”
Several of them blinked, then one’s eyes cleared in understanding.
“Someone stole your duds? That’s harsh, man. Hang on. I hit the jackpot at the Goodwill; got some spare threads in my van for when I wake up naked and lost, too.” He winked. “I can hook you up. Follow me.” The male rose somewhat unsteadily, handing his primitive cooking stick to another. He then turned and walked farther away from the ocean, swaying slightly as he went.
Tiberius and Quintus followed warily. The natives seemed friendly enough, but until they could properly assess the situation, it was best to remain cautious and alert.
“Name’s Jay, by the way,” the man said as they came to a somewhat dilapidated vehicle, one of six in the mostly empty parking area. Two of the vehicles were rocking steadily with steamed-up windows and soft moans emanating from within.
Jay slid open the door and leaned inside. He rummaged around briefly then held out assorted garments to each of them. “Not ideal, but they’ll get the job done.”
“You are most kind.”
They accepted the clothing and began to dress in trousers cut off at the knees and brightly colored shirts with odd graphics. Questionably fashionable yet surprisingly comfortable, the garments did seem to be similar to what the other males were wearing. Like understanding the linguistics, blending in with the natives was crucial, at least until they got their bearings.
“What did you say your names were?” Jay asked.
Tiberius leaned forward in a slight bow. “I am Tiberius, and this is Quintus.”
“Sick names, man. You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No.”
“Thought so. Sucks you got mugged on your first day.”
Tiberius and Quintus exchanged a glance. “Mugged?”
“Yeah, dude. Someone steals all your shit and dumps you in the ocean, that’s some seriously bad welcome mojo right there. But whatcha gonna do? Haters gonna hate, and Golden Beach got a lot of haters. You guys got a place to stay?”
“No.”
“No worries. You can crash with us till you get on your feet.”
“Thank you. You are most kind.”
Jay shrugged and looked away as if embarrassed. “Hey, we’ve all been there, man. Just paying it forward, you know?”
Loud, angry shouts carried up from the beach, interrupting anything more Jay might have said.
“Ah, shit, that’s not good,” he said, hurriedly closing the door then sprinting back toward the shore.
