All of what just happened may be wholly inappropriate, but it was not mating.
Mating bonds are usually a bite, I think. There’s blood exchange for vampires, that’s done with a bite, there’s the mid-sex mating bite for werewolves, there’s the... well I can’t think of any others but that’s how it usually goes. I’m pretty sure.
Anyway, I haven’t bitten or been bitten by Khent, to my knowledge. I definitely elbowed his nose, not his teeth. And for all his mouth was on me a little while ago, that was purely tongue.
Gwen, the Monster Resources lady, smiles at me, nodding sympathetically. Her platinum blonde bob sways and highlights an unnatural sharpness of her cheeks.
“Stanley’s getting me the training video, I think it’s a little more relevant,” she says placatingly. If she’s a monster, I can’t tell what kind.
“Right,” I nod. I look down the conference room table, to the far end where Khent is seated, and curse myself for allowing it. He looks the picture of any office employee, all neatly prepared again, aside from the bandage on his nose.
I cleaned up after that little encounter we had, but even glancing at him makes the need between my legs thrum back alive, as if I didn’t just come like a freight train twenty minutes ago.
The room’s pretty big. I guess it’s usually reserved for large meetings. Gwen led us in a few minutes ago and directed us to sit as far apart as possible.
Gwen crosses to my end of the table, and takes the chair next to me. She lays out a notepad before her and uncaps a pen. “So, I understand you broke Khent’s nose earlier today?”
“It was an accident!” I blurt out, sitting forward. “He was helping me with a stuck drawer. I don’t understand what that has to do with this—”
I flutter the pamphlet at her as agitatedly as one can flutter a pamphlet.
Gwen looks tranquil and unfazed as she jots down a few notes. “But you gave him the nosebleed, not the drawer itself, yes?”
“Yes.” Khent's voice cuts in from the other side of the room, like he's late for something and could get through these answers quicker or easier than I could.
“And I apologize for that, I am truly sorry,” I insist at the table before me. My palms are starting to sweat. I put my cheeks in my hand, my elbow on the table, my fingers partitioning my vision from him. In a lower tone I say to Gwen, “If he wants me to pay to fix his glasses, I’ll figure out some way—”
“Not to worry, that’s covered in the Monster Health Plan, it happens more often than you think,” she says easily. She points her pen towards my outdated pamphlet.
“Drawing blood is an Orc betrothal custom. Apparently, it has roots in some kind of physiological response. Blood Fever or something it’s called,” she shrugs as she writes something down. “I’d have to look it up for specifics.”
“Could you? Look it up?” I squeak.
“Yes, well. Here’s the movie now. I’m sure it will be enlightening,” Gwen smiles at me again as Stanley comes into the room, looking out of breath with sweat stains beginning to form on his thin button-down shirt. He waves a VHS tape triumphantly at me.
Fuck. It’s been at least a decade since I saw one of those. I can only just imagine what crypt of company archives Stanley had to dig through to find that. Has nobody made any more recent resources on this?
The cardboard jacket on the tape is faded enough that the title isn’t legible anymore. Gwen fiddles with the combo DVD and VHS player for a few moments, rewinding the tape before she turns the TV on and hits ‘Play’.
Static dances across the screen momentarily while the player whirrs mechanically.
“Well. Too bad the vending machine was out of popcorn,” Gwen jokes, and slips back out the conference room, closing the door behind me. I can't help but listen to her fading footsteps.
Khent's chair creaks as he shifts in it. I curl my fingers around the edge of the table and sink a little lower in my chair, eyes trained on the TV screen.
The beginning of the tape on Orc biology is boring and not all that helpful. I learn their blood is green due to copper-based hemocyanin, the many sets of tusks they can go through during their life, etc. I spend more than I'm willing to admit of it glancing down the table at Khent, searching for his reactions. He’s angled enough away that I can’t really see much of his face.
Then the tape gets to a part that makes me want to sink low in my chair and disappear under the table. Or even duck out the fire escape.
“Having a long history with courtship by combat, many Orc mating traditions started with bloodshed. The breaking of skin triggers a pheromone response, colloquially known as the ‘Blood Fever’, for the fever-like symptoms it starts with,” the tape’s narrator drawls on like it’s an interesting fact. “Those pheromones, once spread to the one to draw first blood, would calm the partner into stopping their attack, and begin a centuries-old claiming ritual.”
I cover my face with my hands and sink a few inches further into my chair. It doesn’t take me long to connect that by elbowing Khent in the face, I must have accidentally initiated the Orc mating bond.
I wish I could clarify with Khent's biology that I wasn't actually attacking him. It was an accident.
“On occasion, the Blood Fever phenomena has been noted to affect other species, such as werewolves or vampires, the rare brave challenger who dares to take on an Orc.”
The video droned on about how combat-based courtship was somewhat frowned upon today, but that bloodletting ceremonies were still arranged between families to preserve this beautiful and unique cultural custom.