Lennox lovingly gazed up at Aran’an, his lids heavy and hard to keep open. Aran’an had dozed off kissing his forehead, one arm over Lennox’s body. The nights were longer here, but brighter with two moons in the sky. They cast a pearly glow over the entire sleeping chamber. The thick bundles of incense had burnt down to ash by now, their scents settling over everything like a lace sheet.
Lennox didn’t want to go home tomorrow. It had taken the sky priests two days to figure out how he had gotten to such a far alternative realm, and two months to figure out how to send him back.
Lennox was seriously debating staying here forever. Home didn’t have Aran’an. Home was a sparse shoebox, a dull job in a phone processing center, and the dreary weather of Seattle. He had spent his childhood in foster care and had been on his own since he was 18. He had vanished through a tear in time fabric while on a simple walk on the wooden trails behind his apartment complex. Whoops. Had anyone even noticed he was missing? Wasn’t it better here?
Lennox hadn’t met Aran’an so much as he’d been assigned to him. He’d been found stumbling around the town in shock and was put under the care of the councilman until they the Board figure out what to do with him.
Society here operated under two different spheres – men that pursued women for bonding ceremonies or reproduction (Ѯέȫl), and men that did not (ĶѮέȫlƽ). Within that second group of strays, the younger men (ṇÆŗŋ) were assigned to older, educated, and often more dominant men (şÆŗŋ÷) when they came of age. Sometimes a male pair would bond; these pairs were often held high rank in government or business. It was considered a disgrace for a man to live life unassigned to any role.
Lennox had learned that the rules did have flexibility though. He had seen an older man under the care of a younger; he knew that some şÆŗŋ÷ could be deeply submissive . He knew that a person could change their title at any time. It was also accepted that sometimes a grown ṇÆŗŋ would fledge from an older man’s care to seek a woman for a mate. Women had a similar system too, although it was more fluid. There was even a neutral gender called ᾝụἡẫ.
Being under Aran’an’s care was the best thing to every happen to Lennox. Even though the language barrier still remained, his keeper had been patient and loving with him. Aran’an wasn’t even his real name; it was ĂŕⱥŅ∙∂, but Lennox couldn’t pronounce it properly due to his few extra teeth (which had been of great fascination to the local dentists).
Being assigned to ĂŕⱥŅ∙∂’s clan had its benefits too. He could go anywhere in the city and say, “Put it under ₪⁞” whether it was a tab at the bar, a bill at a produce stand, or a ticket for theater. ĂŕⱥŅ∙∂ was respected here, and thus, his assigned ṇÆŗŋ received the same respect. How could Lennox go back home to, to that cubicle, to nothingness? Here he meant something to someone. Here he had affection. Tonight, on their supposed last night together, ĂŕⱥŅ∙∂ had even made love to him using techniques priivy only to the ₪⁞ clan and Lennox wanted nothing else for the rest of his life.
Surely, Lennox realized, that over time the novelty would wear off. He’d learn the language. He’d adapt to their customs, their way of keeping time. He’d have to get an education, take a job. Still, going home was a huge risk at this point. After two months, he’d likely lost his job. He might have lost his apartment. Who knew if time even moved the same? Two months here might have been 20 there. Maybe 200 years. Earth was now an uncertainty. Here, he would live in Aran’an’s home, spending the nights resting on his chest, listening to his lungs rise and fall like this. This is where he wanted to be, his ṇÆŗŋ. His body accepted his decision, and Lennox too fell asleep.