With all the attention on him, Viktor couldn't exactly retreat into the crowd in order to get away. Thankfully, all the attention quickly brought Vok'Rul over to investigate. He was fully dressed up, with neat and pressed clothing, lined with jewelry. The crowd parted easily for him, giving him small cursory bows, almost nothing like the deep bows that other aliens seemed to give him. He looked around for the source of excitement, his yellow eyes quickly landing on Viktor. He gave the human an unimpressed look.
Viktor smiled sheepishly. "Rohsh!" he said as sweetly as possible, giving him a little wave. Vok'Rul looked like he wanted to sigh and roll his eyes but refrained.
The alien that had pointed him out, a deep maroon-colored one, said something to Vok'Rul. The taller alien listened, leaning slightly to hear the shorter one over the sound of the others slowly going back to talking amongst themselves. Whatever he said made Vok'Rul's mouth tighten, just barely. If Viktor hadn't constantly been on the lookout for facial expressions while in the arena - they had saved his life once or twice - he easily would've missed it.
Vok'Rul nodded to the alien and walked over to Viktor. "Kohgrash," he spoke quietly, and Viktor had to strain to hear him over the noise. He tutted and said some other words, like lorka, which he was pretty sure meant home. Vok'Rul looked at the damp spot on his sweater, and Viktor felt his face heat up.
"I spilled some water on it. Awkma," Viktor told him, patting the wet spot on his sweater. Vok'Rul looked mildly surprised to hear a new word coming from his mouth before he frowned. Viktor mirrored his expression. "What're you looking at me like that for?"
He didn't get an answer, but Vok'Rul crouched down slightly, grabbed him under his arms, and lifted Viktor up. "Whoa! Dude!" he yelled, holding onto Vok'Rul's neck as soon as the alien lifted him high enough. He didn't think he'd get used to that any time soon. "God, you're so lucky you're like 12 feet tall and I don't wanna fall. And that I have a broken arm, otherwise I'd smack the everloving shit out of you," he panicked, gripping the alien tighter as he started moving.
Some of his jewelry poked him in the face. The jingling was also getting annoying. He didn't know how Vok'Rul could bear it. Viktor pressed his hands against some of the jewelry hanging from Vok'Rul's head to keep it from hitting him in the face, hand against Vok'Rul's face. The horns on the alien's face poked him slightly less than the jewelry. He felt Vok'Rul rumble and whisper something to him as they walked to the back of the large room. "Not my fault you got all this fancy pantsy fuckin' jewelry in my face," he grumped at the alien.
Trying his best to ignore the alien and his jewelry, Viktor looked around the room. There was a large table as the centerpiece, piled high with all sorts of meat. Decorative bowls and plates lined the sides of the table, and he watched as aliens one by one grabbed some food. He wondered what kind of party this was. Considering all the fancy decor - the lights were rather bright, and the walls were lined with flowers and draped curtains - it certainly wasn't a casual party or one that Vok'Rul particularly wanted to be around for, if the slightly grumpy look on his face was anything to go by.
That might've been made by Viktor's presence, though. He felt a bit bad. But he wasn't going to be forced to sit in one part of the mansion all day! Not when there were more interesting things to do, anyway.
Vok'Rul's grip was gentle. Despite all his complaining, he was sure that the alien would let him down if he struggled enough. As it was, there were way too many aliens in this room for Viktor to ever be comfortable wandering around. He felt safe in Vok'Rul's arms and wasn't that a bit ridiculous? He never would have thought that he'd be on an alien planet a year ago, and yet, here he was.
Plus, he had a wicked view from up here. It was a very big plus. He could see the entire room. Tall people were so lucky.
Vok'Rul brought him to the back of the room where a long table sat in the center of the wall. Viktor immediately noticed the alien that had tagged along with them when they had gone to the school. Vok'Rul's sister or something. She sat at the grand table, fingers drumming impatiently on the cloth. To her left was an oversized, ornate chair. It stretched to the ceiling, intricate designs that became clearer as Vok'Rul carried him over. Small carvings of flowers decorated the edges, curling around the frame with care.
The rest of the table was filled with elderly aliens, dull in color and slightly hunched. They looked like they were on the brink of death. As soon as Vok'Rul walked into their line of sight, their gazes immediately landed on Viktor. Some of them looked indifferent to his presence, but others looked pretty annoyed as if he were something disgusting on the bottom of their shoe.
He tried not to get offended too much, but he still couldn't help the twist of scorn in his chest at the thought of these aliens looking at him as something less than them.
Vok'Rul muttered something to him, and Viktor gave a feeble smile. He wondered what the reason for this get-together was. Maybe it was for fun, and Vok'Rul was just bad at showing his happiness or something.
The alien smiled back at him. Vok'Rul walked around the table, nodding and speaking politely with some of the elderly aliens on his way across. He stopped at the ornate chair, waiting for one of the servants to pull it out for him. Once seated, Vok'Rul tightened his grip on Viktor, wrapping one of his large arms around his stomach.
"Aw, c'mon, man," he complained from the alien's lap, feeling as though he were an unruly kid whose parents were unable to keep still. The alien on Vok'Rul's left side looked less than pleased to be so close to Viktor if the menacing and haughty looks he was receiving said anything. The alien seriously looked like it was going to throw up. He wasn't too happy about this, either.
"Vok'Rul," he said, stumbling a bit over the pronunciation and looking up to frown at the alien. The alien in question looked down at him with slight surprise coloring his face. One of the dangling bits of jewelry from his horns poked him in the eye, and he squinted. "Let me down! I'm drawing the line at sitting on you, for Christ's sake!" Viktor protested, pushing at the alien's arm and trying to slide off his lap.
He wasn't the type of person to sit on someone, not even on the alien that has been nothing but kind to him. Even as a kid, he'd have to be wrangled in order to sit on his father's lap. Being around all these aliens, with the low chatter and the new environment, started to make his skin crawl.
He regretted sating his curiosity. If he had known Vok'Rul would've snatched him up like this, he would've just fucked off with his water bowl and taken another nap.
His hands were starting to ache, and he looked down to realize he had Vok'Rul's arm in a vice, knuckles white and fingers stiff. The alien either didn't care or wasn't able to react. He forcefully released the alien, opting to mess with the fringes of the black plant cast wrapped on his arm to keep his hands busy.
Vok'Rul whispered his name under his breath, moving to stroke Viktor's head. The teen wordlessly protested, a whine in the back of his throat. It was bad enough that he was stuck in this room; he didn't want to be pet like an animal either. The alien, thankfully, stopped trying to touch him, though he still held him firmly, no matter how hard Viktor pushed at his arm.
Eventually, he gave in to the fact that he wasn't going anywhere. He sat stiffly, legs uncomfortably tucked underneath him. The alien was twice his height, but it didn't necessarily mean that he had room for an entire human to sit comfortably. It was cramped, and Viktor found it difficult to avoid touching the alien as much as possible. He didn't enjoy being restricted like this, but at least his limbs were free, even if he were unable to wander around or flee like he wanted to.
Trying to concentrate on anything except the noise and constriction, Viktor didn't notice the hand coming for his head. The fingers barely brushed his head before Vok'Rul shifted suddenly, grabbing the offending wrist with a tight grip that made the other alien wince. The arm wrapped around his middle tightened almost imperceptibly, and Viktor tightened his own grip reflexively. He looked up sharply, eyes immediately landing on the threat.
It was one of the elderly aliens. Viktor couldn't see Vok'Rul's face very well but his mouth was set in a firm smile, teeth pressed together in a half snarl. The elderly alien looked frightened and offended all at once. Vok'Rul said something, angry and deep in his throat. The other seemed to lose all blood from their face, hastily speaking and tripping over their words. Vok'Rul's sister said something low to the taller alien, which made him reluctantly release the alien's wrist. The elderly alien gave a deep bow and rushed off. There was displeased murmuring that followed it. It was only then that Viktor realized the room had gone silent.
Viktor felt oddly conflicted. Under the swirl of panic and fear at being touched by someone he didn't know, cursing himself for his lack of awareness, he was grateful to Vok'Rul. He hated getting touched by these aliens, and Vok'Rul was the only one he could tolerate right now.
Viktor was also incredibly irritated. If the alien hadn't picked him up like some sort of errant lapdog, he wouldn't be getting touched by random aliens. If he had just left him to investigate the room at his leisure, he wouldn't need to be on the lookout for random aliens. If the alien had just filled up his water bowl, he wouldn't have needed to go down to the kitchens.
If he hadn't picked him up from the pet store.
Viktor felt Vok'Rul shift behind him, facing the room again instead of watching the alien that scampered off. Viktor pressed the heels of his palms hard against his eyes. taking in even, measured breaths. Because that's what it all came down to, wasn't it? Viktor had been happy on Earth, in that miserable school full of teen angst and drama that wouldn't mean anything in ten years, in his shitty little apartment with his dad.
Large fingers alighted on his head, and he shrunk down, making a small noise of protest that probably couldn't even be heard over the din of the room. Vok'Rul must have heard it though because his hand barely touched the top of his head before it retracted. A wave of conflicted gratefulness squirmed under his chest.
The rest of the afternoon was spent trapped on Vok'Rul. Eventually, he had to pull his legs out from under him because they were getting dangerously close to falling asleep. Vok'Rul was not the most comfortable seat in the house, but no matter how much he wriggled and pushed at the alien's arm, Viktor was unable to slide off.
No other alien ever tried to touch him after that. Aliens all around the room came up to Vok'Rul to speak with him across the table. Viktor could see that they were curious about him. The looks he received were generally amiable, but there were others who side-eyed him like he was a dirty animal. The water he had spilled on his front had since dried, but he knew he was unkempt. It wasn't as if he had a brush to comb his hair. It wasn't his fault!
Sometimes, if the alien was particularly bold, they would gesture to him and tilt their head slightly in obvious question. The arm around Viktor's waist would always tighten, but Vok'Rul would say his name and some other things. Most often, the aliens would ignore him after this, but there were some that would give him a charmed, "rohsh'a, Kohgrash!" before carrying on their conversation with Vok'Rul.
All in all, it wasn't horrible. Viktor would rather do anything else right now, like taking another nap in his nice, comfy bed, but he was stuck here. It was boring. And Viktor was hungry.
"Hey," he piped up in-between visits. Having not said a word since he had gotten dropped onto his lap, Viktor's words came out a bit too loud to his own ears. He winced, but they did what he wanted: catching Vok'Rul's attention.
The alien in question looked down, smiling at him worriedly. Viktor smiled back, feeling a bit better now that his grouchiness wore off. "Norish? Lorka, norish?" He wouldn't win any awards for speech competitions anytime soon, but Viktor thought he got his point across.
Vok'Rul let out a delighted little noise, whispering to his sister - Viktor had yet to come up with a name for her; he had heard nothing from Vok'Rul on what to call her - who peered at him indulgently. Vok'Rul gestured subtly but gleefully at Viktor, and both aliens turned to look at Viktor expectantly.
Vok'Rul whispered encouragingly, and Viktor rolled his eyes, starting to get a crick in his neck from craning it up to watch them. "C'mon, man, I'm hungry," he complained.
The teen groaned as Vok'Rul's jaw set, and he got that stubborn look on his face. "Fine, you big bastard. I want some norish, and I want to byr lorka. Go home! Food! Norish and byr lorka! Or I will die."
Immediately after he finished talking, the two started whispering to each other. Vok'Rul's grip got almost painful around his stomach, which, by the way, was going to eat itself. Viktor had no idea why they were all excited over some words, but whatever.
Unfortunately, someone else walked up to the table. By now, the gathering of aliens had thinned as they took their leave. There were still some lingering, and Viktor had the fleeting thought that he'd probably die of starvation before they'd all be able to leave.
The alien let out a quiet rohsh'a along with a deep bow. They seemed quite nervous to be in front of Vok'Rul, but stood fortified nonetheless. Viktor was bored the moment they started talking but tried paying attention nonetheless. He had nothing else to do except starve, so why not? He tried to pick out some words, but the alien was still bowed lowly, stuttering through their words painfully. It was difficult to pick out certain words when the alien was slurring and stuttering like that.
Vok'Rul didn't seem to be too much of a fan of the alien either, considering his voice grew gruff and sharp when he finally cut them off. He waved his hand in a dismissing motion, calling some of the bodyguards over with the action. As the guards ushered the stuttering alien, who only seemed to grow more embarrassed now that they were getting pulled away, Vok'Rul suddenly stood up. Viktor only had a moment's notice before he was suddenly clutched in Vok'Rul's grip.
The smell of sulfur and a sudden shout were what tipped him off. Something was wrong. Viktor didn't get a chance to do anything before there was a bright flash of light that filled the entire room. The force of it didn't exactly blow them backward, like in the movies, but it definitely made Vok'Rul stumble and cry out. Viktor felt himself being squeezed so tightly that he thought he'd pop.
Something flew towards his face – a glass cup, he dimly noted – and he wondered if he would get impaled through the skull and die that way instead. It was better than being squeezed to death. He couldn't breathe. But just as he was about to find out, the glass near centimeters from his face, Viktor was startled awake.
The light was bright and disorienting, but the pressure around his throat was unbearable. His shirt was bunched up uncomfortably against his neck, and he frantically pulled at the collar of his shirt, taking in deep, shaky breaths when he could. His head throbbed. He was still in the ballroom, sitting - practically laying, now - on Vok'Rul.
"Urgh," he groaned, rubbing at his eyes and slapping his hands over his face when he was finished. Through his fingers, he blearily looked up at Vok'Rul, who was peering at him in concern. Somehow, he ended up across the alien's lap, instead of just sitting cramped on one leg. He didn't know if the alien had moved him or if he had done it in his sleep. He didn't even know when he had even fallen asleep. The dream had slotted so seamlessly into reality. "Fuck."
Viktor tried not to be alarmed about that. It was a problem for future him. His days of procrastination during high school would serve him well.
Instead, he pushed himself upright, trying to ignore the large hands that were trying to help him up. They were oppressive, serving only as a reminder that he was stuck here. He swatted them away irritably. They reached for him anyway, despite his very clear wish for them to not touch him.
"I hate you," he seethed at the alien as he was picked up nearly effortlessly and repositioned. Vok'Rul's hands didn't leave him afterward, encircling his stomach and waist. Viktor slumped back against the alien in defeat.
Now that he was upright, though, he could see that while the ballroom wasn't as packed as it had been when he first ventured in, it was certainly still full. He probably was asleep for less than an hour. It would explain his headache. He rubbed at his temples.
This was going to suck.
***
Vocabulary:
awkma: water
byr lorka: go home
norish: food
rohsh: a friendly greeting, such as hello or hey
rohsh'a: a formal greeting, usually accompanied by a bow