"I bet." He strokes my back, and gosh, that feels good. "You've had a big day."
"I need to tell the others not to drink the juice," I mumble. "It's tricky."
He keeps rubbing my back. "I'll tell them."
That sounds like a good idea. I'm too out of it to walk around. I feel all light and drifty, like I'm going to lift right off of his lap. I put his hands tighter on my waist. "Hold me down. So I don't float away."
"I will," he promises, and grips the waistband of my skirt underneath my borrowed shirt. "Better?"
I nod, curling up against him. "Don't wanna fall."
"I'd never let you fall, Jade," he murmurs. "You feeling all right?"
"You got me drunk," I point out, feeling loose and kinda awesome despite the fact that I know I should be angry. How long has it been since I've been drunk? Too long. I've been stuck on a boring ship for forever. Being drunk is kinda…fun. I glance up at him and poke his nose. "You look funny."
"You mean sexy," he corrects. "I look sexy. In fact, it blows your mind how sexy I am."
I snort. "I'm not that drunk."
His chest shakes and I realize he's laughing. I cling to him so I don't fall off of his lap—or the world—and wonder where my friends are. Are they being snuggled? Because being snuggled is pretty nice. I burrow in close to him again, pressing my face against his neck. His neck smells nice. His skin is soft, too. Like a kitten. "A great big kitten," I announce. "Meow for me, kitty."
"What?" He sounds confused.
I stroke his neck. "Maybe purr instead? Prrrrr." I roll my tongue. "Prrrrrr, kitty."
"You're a cuddly drunk, aren't you?"
"Mmm, I feel good." I press my nose against his neck. "And you're warm."
"It's because you're not wearing more than a few scraps." He tugs his tunic over my breasts, making sure everything is covered. "Is that all you really have to wear or is that just part of your plan?"
I sniff him again, trying to figure out what he smells like. Sunshine, maybe. Does sunshine have a smell? He smells happy, I decide. Kinda musky and warm and just a hint of fruit. "Can I lick you?" I ask, reaching up to touch his face.
"No licking, Jade," Adiron tells me in a firm, parental voice. "You don't get to do anything you'll regret once this wears off."
I whine in my throat and then go back to snuggling against his chest. "Meanie."
He pokes my side. I push his hand away. He pokes me again.
I slap at him. "Stop it."
"Are you gonna answer me?"
I try to think, but my mind is fuzzy. "Did you ask me something?"
"Yeah. Do you really not have any other clothes?"
Oh. I yawn and smack my lips, wondering if I can get more fruit out of him. Or another cup of juice. I'm already drunk, right? What's the harm in a little more? "Aliens like human titties. Might as well use ’em as a distraction." I grab one of my tits and jiggle it. "So we can rob ’em."
"That's what I thought. And…you were gonna rob us?"
"Yeah." I sigh heavily, thinking about all that new food we aren't going to get. "Running low on noodles. Fucking noodles."
"Fucking noodles," he agrees, sounding amused.
"And we need air filters. Can't drive the ship, so we steal from people that show up to rob us."
"And you kill them?"
"No. We don't kill anyone. We drug ’em and tie ’em up. Put them back on their ship and push it away from ours and we turn off the distress signal so they can't find us again. We go quiet. Real, real quiet." I put my finger to his lips. "Shhh."
"That's good to know—"
"Shhh," I say again, pressing harder on his lips. "I said quiet."
Instead of being quiet, he licks my finger.
I squeal, pulling my hand away, and he grins like the naughty boy he is.
"So you rob everyone. Have you robbed a lot?" he asks.
"Four," I say, wiping my finger on my borrowed shirt. "But they all were gross. They tried to touch us. No one wants to be our friends. They just want to touch our titties."
"If they tried to touch your titties, they weren't your friends," he says solemnly.
"Exactly!" I smack my lips. "Can I have more juice?"
"Mmmm, I'm not sure that's a good idea. Maybe if you're real good and answer my questions?"
I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to, but my mouth is so, so dry and it's hard to think straight. I cling to his new shirt—because he found a new one somewhere, it seems—and poke his puffy face. "I'll kiss you if you get me more juice. Even when you're all ugly and bloated."
"As opposed to ugly and unbloated?"
"You're not ugly," I reassure him. I even stroke his cheek a little, just to make him feel better. "You're just alien. I'm sure you're very handsome for a battle-smurf."