FIC: Love is a Many-Tentacled Thing, SanaYuki, NC17 (6/6)
Title: Love is a Many-Tentacled Thing (6/6)
Author: Ociwen
Pairing/characters: Sanada/Yukimura with others
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 47 000
Warning (if any): Bad fic ahoy! This fic contains spoilers for 40.5, crude humour, bodily functions and crabs.
Summary: Sanada experiences a sea change in order to begin a relationship with Yukimura. Can he balance his secrets, the Rikkai Dai tennis club, and still achieve his goal?
Notes (if any): Thank you pixxers for all the help and koneko_meow for the beta. Written for a rude and ungrateful recipient in balls_it_up. Hopefully others can appreciate the humour-and horror-involved in badfic. Have your umbrellas ready!
This fic has been truncated into 6 sections due to length. These are not chapters. [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]
Yukimura lifts his head and groans. His head feels like someone drove their scooter over it, backed up and drove over it again. His scalp aches. His ears ring. His eyes are so crusted over they creak when he tries to pry one open.
His head weighs as much as a boulder, dragging him down onto the damp, cool surface he's lying on. The bright light-he can feel it through his eyelids, soft and warm across his back, which is vaguely sore too-blinds him.
So I'm dead, he thinks. There's no sound except the ringing in his ears, just the faint stirring, swooshing sound of a breeze over water. It soothes him and lulls him, luring him back into the rest he just woke from.
So much for the disease killing me…
Yukimura starts to laugh, but the sound is choked off and harsh, and then he gasps. He sputters and heaves water, coughing hard and harder still until his lungs burst and he nearly vomits from the force of the salt water gagging his throat. He keeps coughing, grasping at his throat and rolling onto his side to keep the spew from getting up his nose.
Do the dead upchuck water?
His stomach churns, growling at him as the coughing subsides, leaving him gasping for air and wrenching his eyes open one final time. Yukimura squints into the light. On shaking hands, he pushes himself up off the rock he was laying on. All around him the sea is calm and glassy, a wash of teal with a few scattered leaves and seaweed strands floating by. Sea foam frames the beach. Yukimura cringes at the fresh bloom of pain when he tries to sit up. His hip hurts. It must be bruised, maybe, because he's not crying at the hurt, he's only wincing.
It's his beach, too. He would recognize the shape of those cliffs, the rock formations any where, even in death. He would know the low-flying gulls above, silent on the updraft as they circle overhead like vultures.
Yukimura sinks back down onto the rock. His feet dangle into the water, so he pulls them up to his body, hissing when his ankle-which must be bruised too-hits the stone. He doesn't remember anything last night after he ran into the water. He remembers calling Sanada's name, then the water rushing over his head.
And then nothing.
Yukimura sighs. His clothes feel grimy; they stick to his body in strange ways, clinging to his joints and being generally damp and uncomfortable, especially his underwear.
"Yuck," he mutters. His throat is scratchy and he rubs it, trying to sooth the inside as best he can. His mouth is dry and tastes stale. There's acrid vomit mixed with it too, that makes him shakes his head and cough again. His throat is strained from the screaming and it's too much effort to move much.
Yukimura flops back down, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the sunlight. He thinks about Fuji the crab from last night, smiling and talking to him. It makes Yukimura's mouth quirk.
I'm losing my mind, he thinks.
When he gathers the strength-and the willpower-to try again, Yukimura pulls himself up onto his elbows. Then he sits up, swooning for a moment as his head spins. Water dribbles from his left ear, all warm and slick down the side of his face.
There is no crab around now. There's nothing, because even the seagulls have flown off to the water, near that grotto where he and Sanada…
Yukimura flushes at the memory of flesh on flesh, then flesh on scales. He slaps his cheeks, gathering what he needs to stumble off to his bike, then to find his cellphone, then go home.
His toes are cold.
He doesn't know where his socks and shoes have gone. Lost in the wreckage of the storm that litters the beach, probably-all matted seaweed and driftwood and dead fish and maybe a few shells, too. Yukimura shields a hand over his eyes and scans the beach, but no shoe-like objects stand out, just a lot of water-logged debris.
Okay, he thinks. All right.
His body will ache more tomorrow, he knows it. Yukimura looks down at his arms, noting the dark bruises across his arms. His skin looks beat up. And he was beat up-by the water.
It must be morning because the sun is low in the sky in the east, across the water. Yukimura inhales a deep breath, absorbing the ocean and the sun, gaining the strength in his body. Phantom memories of arms around his shoulder, his waist, his sides make him shiver and he looks out over the water again. The surface is a pane of glass, still and smooth and perfect, save for a few projecting rocks to his left, leading toward that grotto.
The rocks absorb the light, sucking the sun into their slate surfaces, except where pools of water shine and the coloured little creatures of the sea are exposed by the drawn back tide. Yukimura looks and his eyes settle on one rock, one rounded, shiny rock.
Odd.
Yukimura blinks and keeps his eyes fixed on that spot. He sits up, leaning as close as he can without falling into the water.
A bubble pops near the rock. And the longer his eyes adjust to the light, the more he can see it doesn't look like a rock, so much as…
Wet hair.
His chest tightens. His voice catches in his chest; he struggles to speak, opening and closing his mouth over and over until he manages to call out, "Is that you?"
The head doesn't move. Yukimura crumples. He may have been seeing things after all. He frowns and his lip trembles. Somewhere, out there, Sanada is swimming around being sad and lonely all because of him.
But then a second bubble rises, popping at the surface by that rock. Or head. Or something. Blop bloop. A third.
And Yukimura's heart swells. Because he can feel Sanada. There is that tingle all over his skin as he realizes it. That prickle on the back of his neck, the same sensation he had those months ago when he would come to the beach to draw and paint and Sanada was watching.
"Sanada!" he yells. His voice is stronger, louder and he can't stop a grin. He can't stop the shake in his body either. "SANADA!"
His head sinks a little lower in the water, just enough for Yukimura to notice. He jumps off the rock, splashing water everywhere and gasping at the cold shock around his shins. Although the water is serene his legs wobble and he struggles through the sand. It's not deep here, barely above his knees. Still, Yukimura staggers, reaching out blindly to grab a hold of something for balance, but nothing is there. Sanada's head disappears under the water. Yukimura falls closer to the water, stumbling and struggling to keep up. He shakes his head. "Don't go-"
And then Sanada pops up out of the water, rising slowly and warily and Yukimura falls into the water completely. Sanada opens his mouth, but says nothing. His throat bobs. Only when Yukimura sits up in water up to his chest, does Sanada move closer with infinite hesitation. Now, Yukimura can see how his skin is greener and his eyes have no white-just one large, black pupil that wavers as it watches him. The gills on the side of his neck flap against his skin. It's strange, but…fascinating, too.
"Sanada," Yukimura says. His voice breaks when Sanada stops swimming closer. He bites his lip and his eyes hurt, threatening tears again because Sanada is scared of him, staring and transfixed like an animal. "Please…" he whispers, "Sanada, I-I love you…"
Sanada's frown deepens. A line furrows into his forehead underneath his wet hair. His eyes lose contact with Yukimura's, instead becoming unfocused, the gaze falling somewhere over Yukimura's right shoulder.
Yukimura close his mouth. His heart pounds and his blood races around, rushing in his ears the way the sea ought to be. Maybe Sanada doesn't understand Japanese when he's a mermaid…?
He looks back at Sanada. Under the water, Yukimura balls his fist, refusing to give up. Fuji told him to be honest. So he'll be honest. Sanada is here, now, and the sight of him aches because he's so close to Yukimura and yet so far, too. Yukimura swallows. A lump forms in his throat, closing off from the sides. "Do you speak Japanese?" he asks, keeping his voice low.
"Yes!" Sanada snaps. "I'm not a fool!" His gills flap furiously and he scowls. That weird gurgling tarundoru noise emerges from his gills.
Yukimura melts. His body slides into the water as his heart flutters around his ribcage.
"Yukimura!" Sanada shouts.
Water splashes up all around him, like the fountains in downtown Yokohama at the shopping centre and Sanada moves-faster than Yukimura would have thought possible, given that he has to flop around like a seal from the water's shallowness here. Those same, strong arms wrap around his shoulders and hold him tight. Yukimura sinks into the embrace, sighing and light-headed: all of his blood rushes not to his head, but to his cock.
"Sorry for the trouble," he murmurs. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it at all, but having those arms around his body, holding him to Sanada's chest is worth a small lie. Sanada's skin is slicker and cooler than before, like the water Yukimura sits in. Yukimura's eyes flutter, but they don't close. Through heavy lids, he watches the light shift in Sanada's wet black eyes.
Sanada smells fishy and his gills flap open and shut as he holds Yukimura close. Yukimura can feel Sanada's heart beating under his skin and he's lost, completely and utterly in those black orbs staring into him, staring through him.
His own heart flies around, threatening to fly out of his mouth and his head tilts back, too heavy to hold up on his own and too light to stay down at the same time. Yukimura shivers. He raises his hand to touch Sanada's cheek. When Sanada winces, he touches the side of his head instead. Sanada's hair feels the same as always, thick and wet under his unsteady fingertips.
"I love you," Yukimura whispers. He won't give up, not until Sanada has heard him out at least. Sanada's arms loosen, but with his free hand, Yukimura grabs his shoulder and digs in, anchoring a hold. "Sanada, I…"
"I need you," he says. He clings to Sanada's shoulders, grasping his slippery skin as best he can when he leans close, his mouth parted as his forehead touches Sanada's jaw. He breathes in Sanada's smell and the water droplets clinging to his chest. His dick pokes Sanada in the side, just above where his tail must start. Yukimura sucks in his stomach as tension rises in his belly. He doesn't know if he wants this. The last time he saw Sanada's tail…
He shakes his head, rubbing his face against Sanada's jaw. No! This time it will be-
This time?!
Yukimura's eyes go wide.
"Not here," Sanada mumbles. He pulls back, trying to wriggle out of Yukimura's grip like a fish, but Yukimura holds tight, refusing to let go. Sanada turns away; his eyelids are half-closed as though he's trying to hide from Yukimura. Trying to hide those big, black eyes that send a shiver down Yukimura's spine as the image of Sanada below him, his eyes unable to roll back into his head as he flops and strains and groans Yukimura's name in pleasure flashes before Yukimura's own eyes.
Knowing he's hurt Sanada, knowing the words he called Sanada, Yukimura pulls back too. He clenches his jaw and keeps his arms around Sanada's waist. His feet dig into the sand and push. They move and Sanada stiffens.
"What are you-"
"You said not here," Yukimura says. "So I'm moving us to the rock."
"You're hurt!" Sanada says. His gills flap.
So are you, Yukimura thinks. He pushes into the sand again, but his foot catches the wrong way; pain stabs his ankle and makes him lose balance. He grabs Sanada, pulling him down on top of him as he falls back into the water.
But Sanada's always been the strong one. He frowns. He won't look Yukimura in the eye. It's awkward and wet and loud as Sanada splashes and flops in the water, half-carrying Yukimura, half-dragging his own body back onto the rock Yukimura had lain on.
Sanada heaves himself onto the rock and Yukimura lets go, his fingers slipping down Sanada's arms as he sits up. "Thank you," he says. The hairs under Yukimura's fingers are downy and soft, almost like seaweed in their greenish tinge. Now, he can see Sanada's tail and the silvery sheen of the scales running down it, all the way to the fin at the end, which dips into the water, limp and lifeless.
"Sanada," he says. He tips his head, trying to encourage Sanada to look at him. He touches Sanada's shoulder with a light hand, then his jaw, stroking the bone with the pad of his thumb. Yukimura can feel Sanada shiver under the touch, but still Sanada won't meet his eye.
"You…pity me," Sanada mutters.
Yukimura shakes his head. "No!" he says. "I don't! I-"
"I don't want to be pitied," Sanada says. His voice is so low that the distant squawks of gulls and the low, continuous rumble of the lapping waves nearly drowns him out. Yukimura's throat feels thick. His heart sinks, heavy and cold into his stomach.
"No!" he insists. He beats his hand down on Sanada's arm, ignoring Sanada's wince. "Sanada, that's not it!" He keeps shaking his head, but Sanada won't turn, Sanada won't lean into his hand and gurgle. His gills don't even flap-they stick up, all frilly and stiff and the sight of it makes Yukimura bristle.
"I'm fine," Sanada says. Then, his voice drops another notch, sounding all broken and bubbling when he adds, "Sorry for the trouble." His tail starts to slide into the water and he pushes himself away from Yukimura with his arms. His biceps shift and bulge as his tail dips deeper into the water, ready to leave one last time.
Yukimura squeezes Sanada's arms hard, refusing to let go. Sanada tugs and Yukimura pulls and finally, finally Sanada's eyes lift to his, wet and wavering and so deep that Yukimura is lost.
"You saved me," he says. "It was you."
Sanada's arms go slack. His tail hangs off the edge of the rock. He says nothing.
"You-I need you!" Yukimura says through his teeth. His eyes sting but he doesn't care. He pulls at Sanada's arm and he grabs Sanada's hair, fisting his hand into in it to get closer. "I need you!" he says. The words get harder and harder to say as his throat chokes up with a sob.
"You know what I am!" Sanada snaps. He whips his head up and Yukimura can see his teeth, sharper and whiter than any human should have. "I'm a freak!"
Hot tears drip down Yukimura's face before he realizes that they are tears staining the dark stone between them. He's crying. Crying hard enough to make his chest shake and his stomach churn and he doesn't care if Sanada sees or not. He doesn't care what Sanada thinks. "I was wrong," Yukimura says. Tears cut his words off, making him cough again. Yukimura keeps shaking his head, keeps combing Sanada's hair back, his heart shattering at the crestfallen way Sanada looks down at the tears.
"I'd…I'd even become a fucking sea urchin for you," Yukimura mumbles. He doesn't really want to be an urchin, but it gets Sanada's attention. His tail twitches in the water, stirring up sea foam. Yukimura loosens his grip as Sanada looks up at him; his eyes widen even more as his mouth hangs open. Yukimura adds, "If it meant we could be together."
Then, Yukimura slams his fist down on the rock. "Dammit Sanada!" he shouts. "I-"
But he's cut off by that sound, the same sound he heard on the beach, all those weeks ago. The same sound that was on the news.
The same gurgling, soft and bubbling "Tarundoru" that makes him hard and aching and desperate to be touched and kissed and held.
Yukimura moans.
And then, when Sanada heaves himself onto the rock all the way, Yukimura presses his body to Sanada's and moans into a kiss as lips search his, all salty and wet and cool and wonderful. Sanada freezes, but when Yukimura teases his lips with the tip of his tongue, sliding it over and over, teeth biting Sanada's top lip and tugging-gently enough to not hurt, but hard enough for Sanada to know he's not joking about this-Sanada finally relents.
With a groan from the back of his mouth, and a strange fluttering of air from the gills on his neck, he opens his mouth and lets Yukimura in. It feels strange to kiss Sanada and not think about the scaly tail between his legs instead of a warm thigh. It feels weird to roll his tongue over Sanada's and moan and touch Sanada's arm when alarm bells sound in his head and remind him that his other hand is dangerously close to those gills.
Sanada tastes the same as before, though: salty, sweet, mostly just wet, like the water. His kisses are hard and frantic and his hands, so hesitant and careful moments ago now splay over Yukimura's back, pulling him close and tight, enough to choke when his shirt starts to ride up and his stomach touches Sanada's chest.
As his thoughts drift off and Sanada shifts, sliding more on top of Yukimura, his weight damp, but comforting, Yukimura stops kissing him. His tongue goes slack. Sanada pulls away, saliva trailing from his lips when he looks down, mouth open and throat swallowing. His gills move.
"Yukimura…?" he says. His eyes cloud over with that same fearful darkness. Yukimura shakes his head quickly. He slides his hand up the back of Sanada's neck, mindful of the gills that he's avoiding.
And Sanada seems to realize it. His gills close up, flat against his skin and he sighs through his mouth, a tiny moan in the back of his throat.
Yukimura sighs too. He lifts his hand, hovering it over the gills. He bites his bottom lip and looks at Sanada, smiling as he lifts himself up to kiss Sanada softly. "May I…may I touch your gills?" he whispers.
The look on Sanada's face makes Yukimura giggle. His eyes bug out and his jaw drops. His gills puff out, like a frill, and then a slow, fierce blush paints his cheeks. After a long moment, of the sea swishing brushing the shoreline and the gulls circling above, Sanada nods once.
Yukimura swallows his pride. He swallows his nerves, too, and digs deep inside for the same raw courage he needed for his operation, for the Nationals, and for being with Sanada in the first place. He rests his fingertips on the edge of the gills, right where they meet Sanada's neck and the ends of his dark hair, too, then he tilts his neck and nuzzles Sanada's shoulder, seeking the gills with his lips.
Maybe he should have thought more before he did this, because as soon as his lips touch the gills, Yukimura stiffens, too. Sanada gasps his name and the gills twitch. They feel like the rest of Sanada's neck-cool and damp from the water, smooth like his skin, except there is a long slit, then another and another. Yukimura pushes down the twisting tension inside and he licks a path along one of the slits, growing bolder when he hears the mewling noises Sanada makes. Sanada squirms and throws his head back: his half-sob, half-cry is music to Yukimura's ears. He licks back down the gill, smiling against Sanada's neck. Sanada's noises, Sanada's thrashing, the splashing he makes with his tail as he shudders and grabs at Yukimura's hair, it makes Yukimura all the more certain he wants this.
It makes Yukimura all the more hard between his legs. He trails his tongue across Sanada's jaw, kissing the side of Sanada's mouth and urging him to turn into a full-on kiss-which Sanada does, capturing Yukimura's lips so forcefully that Yukimura shakes this time, rubbing himself on Sanada's hip, right where his tail starts.
Yukimura explores with his tongue and his fingertips, ever sure that he wants this and that Sanada does too. It's weird, he supposes, to be kissing a merman, but at the same time, it's just Sanada. The boy who he loves, no matter what. Sanada's chest is the same. Sanada's nipples are the same: tight pebbles that Yukimura nibbles, grinning when Sanada arches back and pushes on his hip. Yukimura peels his shirt off, throwing the ruined mess into the sea. Sanada's eyes grow blacker, glazed with lust and reflecting the endless blue of the ocean and Yukimura's own naked chest.
He kisses Sanada's belly, laughing when Sanada sucks it in. He drags the ends of his hair over Sanada's navel, dipping his tongue into the hole and sucking on the skin, biting it, leaving red blooms to mark it as his own. He touches with his hands, running them over one scale that sits to the side of Sanada's bellybutton, a lone silvery hard scale.
"You have a stray scale," he murmurs. Sanada grunts. His fingers dig into Yukimura's back.
Yukimura goes back to exploring, searching out Sanada's real body; he runs his tongue over the swells and dips and valleys of Sanada's hips, hips that descend into a long, elegant tail that glimmers over the edge of the rock. And that's where it stops. Yukimura sits up and stares, blinking to make certain.
Sanada tries to sit up too, curling around his tail and wincing.
He has no dick.
Sanada opens his mouth. "I…you can't do anything with me," he mutters. "I'm not made that way." His voice trails off, lost in the faintest of breezes that flutters over their bodies.
Yukimura shivers. He shakes his head. "No…" He wants to tell Sanada that he doesn't care. They'll find a way. Even if he has to be a sea urchin or a starfish or a scallop. His own dick is swollen and tender, aching to be touched and rubbed and his balls strain with the need of release.
But Sanada doesn't have any of that. He doesn't feel it. His belly turns into hips turns into tail. Sighing, Yukimura lays back down against Sanada, tucking his body alongside and stretching his hand out over the area-approximately-where Sanada's bum would have been.
But his fingers feel something he doesn't expect. At all. Yukimura jumps-just enough for Sanada to notice and jerk back.
"Wait…" Yukimura says. His voice sounds breathy, excited and he is. His fingers slide back over that same area, feeling the pucker of a hole and something slightly sticky, but mostly slightly slimy, like mucus.
Yukimura's heart flies around, zipping around his chest and his dick pounds, harder than his pulse. "Sanada, you…we…can still…" Yukimura shakes his head. He's barely able to believe what his fingers feel. He tries to push a finger inside, curious as his stomach flip-flops with anticipation. But Sanada squeezes the puckered hole.
"Yukimura!" he gasps. "No- that-"
He's never done this before-not to himself, not to anyone else-but Yukimura smears the mucus-y fluid around Sanada's hole anyway, loving the way Sanada pants and twitches, as though Yukimura is sending electric shocks down his tail. Water splashes up. Yukimura rubs two fingers around the hole and leans close, licking a path from Sanada's earlobe to his gills.
Sanada chokes.
"I don't mind," Yukimura murmurs. He sucks on Sanada's earlobe, biting it between his teeth then tugging as he rubs against Sanada's face, cheek-to-cheek. Sure, the strange fluid coming out of Sanada's bum is strange and slightly sticky, but the way Sanada shudders and closes his eyes, the way the tendons in his neck strain and his arms shake…
Even if Sanada doesn't have a dick, Yukimura knows it must feel good. He circles his fingertips in lazy figure-eights over Sanada's hole again and again until Sanada is reduced to a shivering, mewling mess of sobs beside him.
"That's-nngh-that's where we fertilize-oh god! Yukimura!-fertilize from!" he sputters. Sanada writhes on the rock and Yukimura moans, too, from the tight, numb feeling rising between his legs as Sanada bucks and flops up against his thigh.
Yukimura stops the circles. He blinks. Sanada's lip curls up and he makes a funny noise, an angry rasping sound from his gills. "Eh?" he asks.
Sanada doesn't elaborate, but his furious blush suggests enough. He looks away and his tail flops against the surface of the water. "It's…it's embarrassing," he grumbles. He moves and wiggles away from Yukimura's arms, trying to sit up. Yukimura keeps a tight hold around Sanada's waist as he looks up with a soft smile.
"Will you show me?" he asks. "Will you show me your fertilizing?"
Sanada's mouth drops. A late drop of water falls from the ends of a lock of his hair, rolling down his nose and splattering on the rock. The sea swishes, calm and placid around them.
"It's…it's gross!" he says. His voice rises into a squeak. His face is redder than ever.
Yukimura doesn't know what all this fertilizing means, but he's read enough about fish before that he figures it's similar. Maybe mermaids lay eggs and then mermen like Sanada swim around near the egg and…deposit their little swimmers to make merbabies. Yukimura's hesitant too about whatever it all entails, but he wants Sanada. All of him. He wants this private moment while it lasts, so much that his heart aches, all stabbing like he's going to have another attack of the disease. He raises a hand to his chest, exhaling slowly to try to calm himself.
Then he stands up. Sanada's face twists up even more. He's worried. He's ashamed.
Yukimura pulls his pants down. He steps out of them, one leg at a time, shivering once the cool air hitting his bare legs. It's embarrassing for him to be standing on a rock with his underpants on (and probably all dirty and damp from almost drowning) and an erection tenting them.
His face burns. Sanada opens his mouth, struggling over a question, when Yukimura takes his underpants off too, flinging them over his shoulder toward the beach. He gasps at the shock of the spring morning, brisk all over his body, but when he lays back down next to Sanada, pressing his dick to Sanada's belly, it feels good. It feels right.
"I'll show you everything of me," he says. The words make him cringe inside-they're so cheesy, so corny, but then everything about right now is too. The calm wind, the glassy water reflecting their naked bodies, even the subtle clouds, floating in the sky lazily, lovely.
Yukimura wraps his arms around Sanada's neck, seeking Sanada's lips with his own. They kiss, slow and easy as Yukimura teases Sanada's mouth open; when he slips his tongue inside, his cock pulses and he thrusts against Sanada's lap.
"Please," he says, pulling away for a moment. "Sanada, I want to see everything of you…"
Conflict darkens Sanada's pupil-less eyes, but he nods enough to encourage Yukimura. In one move, Yukimura reaches back around Sanada's hips, toying at his hole again, relishing and moaning when Sanada squirms, Yukimura's name always on his lips.
And then he feels a weird burst of something cool and wet spray all over his hand. Sanada vibrates, from his neck down, and he hums out of his gills, long and low as the whatever keeps spurting all over Yukimura's hand. Yukimura lies there, staring somewhere in the space beyond Sanada's shoulder until the spraying stops and Sanada slumps down onto the rock, his gills flapping once against his neck before going flat.
Sanada didn't pee on me, did he…?
Carefully, Yukimura lifts his hand up behind Sanada's ass and he looks at it over the rise of Sanada's tail. His hand is covered in weird, watery white stuff that isn't quite pee, but it's not come either: it's too watery and there's far too much of it. It glues his fingers together in sticky strands and smells fishy.
Ew, he thinks. His eyes shift, hoping that he can wash it off before doing anything else. It makes the skin on his arm crawl.
But at the same time, he doesn't want to hurt Sanada. And he's horny, too-his cock throbs, his balls are so tight against his body, so hot and begging to be touched that when Yukimura does move enough to stretch his hand into the water and wash the fertilizer away, he groans and starts to thrust on Sanada's tail.
If Sanada's hurt, he doesn't show it. If Sanada's embarrassed anymore, he doesn't make that obvious either. Instead, he sighs heavily and rolls toward Yukimura. Instinctively, their arms reach out, pulling their bodies close together as their noses brush, lips seeking lips to kiss again. Yukimura can forget about the weird sticky watery stuff in the cracks of his hands because Sanada's kissing him back, passionate, long, hard kisses that thrill him to the toes, that make him hump Sanada's scaly tail and wrap his legs around Sanada and start to straddle Sanada and-
And then the purpose of that mucus-y slime around Sanada's puckered hole is clear. It hits Yukimura like a scud serve, straight to his skull.
Sanada sucks in a breath. "Yukimura!" he groans through his teeth as Yukimura kneels and Sanada wriggles up, his bum in the air and his head hanging down to his chest and Yukimura doesn't know fully what he's doing until he shakes and shivers and guides his dick into that hole, barely visible through the silvery scales if it wasn't for the clear mucus leaking from it. He sinks in, unable to breathe, unable to think because that hole is so tight and slick and he slumps forward onto Sanada's back, hands outstretched on the rock as he thrusts, slow at first, then faster, harder-
Like the motion of the waves, age-old and rhythmic and his own ass flexes and Sanada thrashes and flaps and pants, fast and furious and he pushes back against Yukimura and squeezes again and again and Yukimura's shakes, his thighs trembling and his stomach muscles too and he jerks once more before the waves crash over him. The tense pleasure bursts inside and he's shuddering and thrusting blindly and pushing deep down into Sanada as he pours himself, crying "Sanada!" over the smooth silence of the ocean.
The sense of repletion is odd, afterward. Yukimura lays his cheek to Sanada's chest, which rises and falls in shallow motions, too irregular and lengthy to ever be human. The waves pick up, gathering energy as they spill on the shore, sea foam and the remnants of their sex, too, washed ashore by the blue water. Sanada's arm is around Yukimura's waist and Yukimura presses a dry kiss to Sanada's collar, almost a chaste joke after what they just did.
He laughs inside, unable to suppress the smile that finds his lips. He's just had sex with a merman. Two months ago, he didn't know that mermen existed. Two months ago, he was struggling with his painting, with the water he wanted to capture on canvas, and now…
He still hasn't captured anything. The wheezes that rise from Sanada's gills are a tell-tale sign he has to return to the sea soon and it makes Yukimura choke up inside. The heavy lump reforms in his throat and his eyes sting. He snuggles closer, biting back a sob when Sanada's arm tightens too.
Don't leave me, he thinks. Sanada, why can't you stay with me forever…?
"You'll have to leave soon," Yukimura whispers. His voice wavers and he sniffles a little. Overhead, a seagull caws as four birds circle the beach, their beach now. Because Yukimura isn't alone. At least for the moment…
Sanada says nothing, but Yukimura is certain he can hear the audible sound of Sanada swallowing, too. Their fingers twine together, weaving tight and desperate as Yukimura raises them to his lips. He kisses the cool tips of Sanada's fingers. He sniffles again, and this time, a sob does rise.
"Will you be…watching me?" he asks. He kisses Sanada's thumb, his index, then his palm, cradling it to his face to wipe the tears that fall. "Can you do that, Sanada?"
Sanada nods and Yukimura can feel the wet spots of someone else's tears on his chin. He tilts his head, looking up at Sanada through blurry eyes and sees Sanada's big, unblinking eyes are shiny too. Pain stabs when he sees the heartbreak all over Sanada's face: in his trembling mouth, in his watery eyes, in the sniffs he tries to hide that emerge as shuddered breathing through his gills.
"I love you," he says, thick and strained. "Yukimura, I-"
Yukimura places a finger on Sanada's lips. The water bubble behind them and a cool breeze rushes over their legs as they strain, twine, twist together one last time. "I know," he murmurs. "Sanada, I know. I love you, too-I will always, I-"
Water boils on the underside of the rock, rushing up over the flat surface and spurting and shooting up like a fountain. Yukimura stops and his eyes go wide as a stream of water hits his face. He squeezes his eyes shut and coughs, spitting the water from his mouth and nose. "Sanada!" he yells. "Are you-"
A low rumble sounds, and at first, Yukimura thinks it's the water. An earthquake. He grabs the sides of the rock to balance, to stabilize himself. He tries to shout again, because Sanada is lost in a gush of water, like a crashing wave that pours over the rock, only the ocean is calm and quiet, it's just here and them being drenched.
Panic freezes him. For a second, Yukimura thinks he's drowning again, choking on water that fills his mouth and lungs and swirls all around him, but he's not dragged down, he's not dragged anywhere and when the water stops crashing up, he opens his eyes.
To see the flash of Sanada throwing himself across the rock, slamming down onto Yukimura as their bodies tumble into the serene surf. Yukimura struggles to surface, weighed down by legs and arms and Sanada's heavy, solid body, pinning him down in the water with strong, muscled thighs on his and-
Yukimura sputters. The water isn't deep, maybe a foot and he looks down, sitting up as his stomach strains and he shakes his head and starts to laugh and Sanada does too because neither of them believe it.
Sanada's crying and laughing and holding him so tight Yukimura can't breathe. He wriggles this time, touching Sanada's smooth neck and kissing his face, his lips, his eyes that are brown and big and normal and he pushes his body up against Sanada's. The laughter between them is unstoppable because there's a dick, swollen and poking his belly and hot and straining and Yukimura shakes his head some more, spraying water and tears and they're messy and salty and the water floods his ears but when his hands curl around Sanada's cock and Sanada groans and sputters and comes immediately…
It is the most beautiful, perfect thing.
To have the warm sun shining bright over their backs. To have the water a crisp shade of blue, tinged with green around the rocks. To take Sanada's hand in his own and stand up on shaking legs, walking along the beach together.
Yukimura knows he's found what he's been looking for all along.
Their feet sink into the sand, mindful of the pebbles and scattered driftwood as they amble. His hair lifts up on the faint wind and the smell of salty, thick ocean air fills up his lungs. Yukimura leans against Sanada's arm and squeezes Sanada's hand tighter. "Maybe tomorrow you can watch me paint, ne?" he says.
Sanada's "tarundoru" is gurgled no longer. Yukimura laughs.
There is a sandbank, maybe a hundred or two metres off shore. On the sand bank are coral mounds, dead and bleached white under the water's surface, some breaking the surf with a lone branch above the waves. On one such branch, a crab sits and watches the two boys on the beach, walking toward the dunes covered in swishing grasses. They lean into each other and their laughter is contagious, filling the air with a sound even more magical than any pearls of wisdom.
Fuji sighs. His antennae curl around and wiggle. Love, he thinks.
He feels something move across his shell: a large, heavy arm, comfortable and comforting, too. He leans into the tentacle that drips from the deep and clacks his claws when the tentacle scratches his back softly.
"Tezuka," he says, "I didn't think you would let Sanada have that."
The water bubbles nearby. One bubble bursts and sound pops. "Aa."
Fuji smiles. "Let's go home, too." He scuttles along the narrow branch and hops onto the tentacle arm, then they glide through the water and swim off into the deep.
Together.
*--+--~--THREE YEARS LATER--~--+--*
Yukimura bangs on the bathroom door. When Sanada doesn't answer, he frowns deeper and purses his lips. In the main room, he can hear the frantic splashing from the tank and the microwave dings. Supper is ready. Yukimura knocks again, but he gives up after the second and slides the door open instead.
"Are you almost done?" he asks.
From the tub, Sanada's head pops up. His tail slaps down on the water and he mumbles something about not being able to find the scrub brush.
"Well, it's almost supper time for the kids and they're getting antsy," Yukimura says. Sanada frowns and slides back under the water. Yukimura pads across the floor, his health slippers sticking to the damp tiles. Sure enough, the scrub brush is in the same place as always, by the bucket under the shower head. He tosses it to Sanada.
"I have practice tomorrow at the university. I don't want to be up late."
Sanada grunts. "I'm almost done."
As much as the memory of seeing Sanada rise up out of the sea that day, covered in clinging seaweed and sea foam never hesitates to make Yukimura weak in the knees, seeing Sanada walk out from the bathroom with a towel slung around his hips and droplets sliding down his broad chest makes Yukimura hard too. Every single evening. All Sanada has to do is walk into the kitchen-frowning and looking for the spam fritters-and cock his head back to move the hair from his eyes and Yukimura is gone in a fantasy of what tonight will bring in their bedroom:
Sanada's yukata thrown off his body. Their futon mattress sliding all over the tatami floor. Hands in his hair to pull his head to Sanada's cock, his own cock dark and hard and straining and leaking as he shudders and shakes under Sanada. Sanada will grunt and his skin will be slick with sweat and then Yukimura will hook a leg around Sanada's calf and dig his ankle in when he comes, untouched and-
"Yukimura?" Sanada asks.
Yukimura blinks. He clears his throat and looks down at his feet, face on fire. "Nothing," he says, smiling to himself. "I just fed them, but they probably want a song before bed."
Sanada sighs. He tries to huff and look surly and unwilling as he walks over to the tank and asks what they want tonight's song to be, but really, Yukimura knows that Sanada enjoys singing the eels to sleep. Tonight's song is one from karaoke with Yanagi and Yagyuu and Niou last night, some cheesy American pop ballad that makes Sanada's voice crack on the high notes.
But the eels love it. They flap and splash and swim in circles. Yukimura walks up to Sanada and looks down at the tank, smiling at the eels as he rests his face against Sanada's arm. Sanada closes the tank, sliding the mesh over the top and then wishes them all a good night.
"Momo-chan and Ume-chan and Unagi-chan and Kage-chan and Gengo-chan and Sakura-chan and Himiko-chan and Nami-chan and Hoshi-chan and Kouhei-chan, good night," Sanada says. He flicks off the light switch by the tank, merging the water in the same dim darkness as the rest of the room.
The two of them start for the bedroom. Sanada's hand slides from Yukimura's waist to his hip, protective and anticipatory when Yukimura suddenly stops in the middle of the hallway, right by the painting of the ocean.
"Sanada!" he says. "We forgot one!"
Quickly, Yukimura rushes back to the tank where a single eel, short and stumpy with beady black eyes stares at him from the other side of the glass. Yukimura sighs and smiles, tapping the tank with his finger. "Good night to you, too, Jin," he says. "Daddy's sorry he forgot you, ne?"
Yukimura glances back over his shoulder. Sanada scuffs his toes on the floor-his webbed toes that Yukimura will have in his mouth with a gasping Sanada above him in a few minutes. "Yes," Sanada mumbles. "I'm sorry."
When they go back to their bedroom the second time, Yukimura makes sure to close the door. Just to be certain the children don't hear them. As he touches Sanada's hand and brings it to his lips, he can hear the sound of the ocean tide rushing in the distance. The moon shines through the open window, a stream of pearly light across the floor that turns Sanada's skin milky and smooth, almost the way it used to be before. Yukimura blood rushes and he looks up at Sanada.
"Tomorrow evening, do you want to play a game of tennis at the streetcourts?" Yukimura asks. He nuzzles Sanada's jaw, rubbing his cheek on the prickly stubble. Sanada hums, his chest rumbling in vague agreement before he leans down and captures Yukimura's mouth in a kiss.
Even if they only have one lifetime together, Yukimura knows it's more than enough.
He weaves his hands through Sanada's damp hair and kisses back.
THE END
Author: Ociwen
Pairing/characters: Sanada/Yukimura with others
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 47 000
Warning (if any): Bad fic ahoy! This fic contains spoilers for 40.5, crude humour, bodily functions and crabs.
Summary: Sanada experiences a sea change in order to begin a relationship with Yukimura. Can he balance his secrets, the Rikkai Dai tennis club, and still achieve his goal?
Notes (if any): Thank you pixxers for all the help and koneko_meow for the beta. Written for a rude and ungrateful recipient in balls_it_up. Hopefully others can appreciate the humour-and horror-involved in badfic. Have your umbrellas ready!
This fic has been truncated into 6 sections due to length. These are not chapters. [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]
Yukimura lifts his head and groans. His head feels like someone drove their scooter over it, backed up and drove over it again. His scalp aches. His ears ring. His eyes are so crusted over they creak when he tries to pry one open.
His head weighs as much as a boulder, dragging him down onto the damp, cool surface he's lying on. The bright light-he can feel it through his eyelids, soft and warm across his back, which is vaguely sore too-blinds him.
So I'm dead, he thinks. There's no sound except the ringing in his ears, just the faint stirring, swooshing sound of a breeze over water. It soothes him and lulls him, luring him back into the rest he just woke from.
So much for the disease killing me…
Yukimura starts to laugh, but the sound is choked off and harsh, and then he gasps. He sputters and heaves water, coughing hard and harder still until his lungs burst and he nearly vomits from the force of the salt water gagging his throat. He keeps coughing, grasping at his throat and rolling onto his side to keep the spew from getting up his nose.
Do the dead upchuck water?
His stomach churns, growling at him as the coughing subsides, leaving him gasping for air and wrenching his eyes open one final time. Yukimura squints into the light. On shaking hands, he pushes himself up off the rock he was laying on. All around him the sea is calm and glassy, a wash of teal with a few scattered leaves and seaweed strands floating by. Sea foam frames the beach. Yukimura cringes at the fresh bloom of pain when he tries to sit up. His hip hurts. It must be bruised, maybe, because he's not crying at the hurt, he's only wincing.
It's his beach, too. He would recognize the shape of those cliffs, the rock formations any where, even in death. He would know the low-flying gulls above, silent on the updraft as they circle overhead like vultures.
Yukimura sinks back down onto the rock. His feet dangle into the water, so he pulls them up to his body, hissing when his ankle-which must be bruised too-hits the stone. He doesn't remember anything last night after he ran into the water. He remembers calling Sanada's name, then the water rushing over his head.
And then nothing.
Yukimura sighs. His clothes feel grimy; they stick to his body in strange ways, clinging to his joints and being generally damp and uncomfortable, especially his underwear.
"Yuck," he mutters. His throat is scratchy and he rubs it, trying to sooth the inside as best he can. His mouth is dry and tastes stale. There's acrid vomit mixed with it too, that makes him shakes his head and cough again. His throat is strained from the screaming and it's too much effort to move much.
Yukimura flops back down, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the sunlight. He thinks about Fuji the crab from last night, smiling and talking to him. It makes Yukimura's mouth quirk.
I'm losing my mind, he thinks.
When he gathers the strength-and the willpower-to try again, Yukimura pulls himself up onto his elbows. Then he sits up, swooning for a moment as his head spins. Water dribbles from his left ear, all warm and slick down the side of his face.
There is no crab around now. There's nothing, because even the seagulls have flown off to the water, near that grotto where he and Sanada…
Yukimura flushes at the memory of flesh on flesh, then flesh on scales. He slaps his cheeks, gathering what he needs to stumble off to his bike, then to find his cellphone, then go home.
His toes are cold.
He doesn't know where his socks and shoes have gone. Lost in the wreckage of the storm that litters the beach, probably-all matted seaweed and driftwood and dead fish and maybe a few shells, too. Yukimura shields a hand over his eyes and scans the beach, but no shoe-like objects stand out, just a lot of water-logged debris.
Okay, he thinks. All right.
His body will ache more tomorrow, he knows it. Yukimura looks down at his arms, noting the dark bruises across his arms. His skin looks beat up. And he was beat up-by the water.
It must be morning because the sun is low in the sky in the east, across the water. Yukimura inhales a deep breath, absorbing the ocean and the sun, gaining the strength in his body. Phantom memories of arms around his shoulder, his waist, his sides make him shiver and he looks out over the water again. The surface is a pane of glass, still and smooth and perfect, save for a few projecting rocks to his left, leading toward that grotto.
The rocks absorb the light, sucking the sun into their slate surfaces, except where pools of water shine and the coloured little creatures of the sea are exposed by the drawn back tide. Yukimura looks and his eyes settle on one rock, one rounded, shiny rock.
Odd.
Yukimura blinks and keeps his eyes fixed on that spot. He sits up, leaning as close as he can without falling into the water.
A bubble pops near the rock. And the longer his eyes adjust to the light, the more he can see it doesn't look like a rock, so much as…
Wet hair.
His chest tightens. His voice catches in his chest; he struggles to speak, opening and closing his mouth over and over until he manages to call out, "Is that you?"
The head doesn't move. Yukimura crumples. He may have been seeing things after all. He frowns and his lip trembles. Somewhere, out there, Sanada is swimming around being sad and lonely all because of him.
But then a second bubble rises, popping at the surface by that rock. Or head. Or something. Blop bloop. A third.
And Yukimura's heart swells. Because he can feel Sanada. There is that tingle all over his skin as he realizes it. That prickle on the back of his neck, the same sensation he had those months ago when he would come to the beach to draw and paint and Sanada was watching.
"Sanada!" he yells. His voice is stronger, louder and he can't stop a grin. He can't stop the shake in his body either. "SANADA!"
His head sinks a little lower in the water, just enough for Yukimura to notice. He jumps off the rock, splashing water everywhere and gasping at the cold shock around his shins. Although the water is serene his legs wobble and he struggles through the sand. It's not deep here, barely above his knees. Still, Yukimura staggers, reaching out blindly to grab a hold of something for balance, but nothing is there. Sanada's head disappears under the water. Yukimura falls closer to the water, stumbling and struggling to keep up. He shakes his head. "Don't go-"
And then Sanada pops up out of the water, rising slowly and warily and Yukimura falls into the water completely. Sanada opens his mouth, but says nothing. His throat bobs. Only when Yukimura sits up in water up to his chest, does Sanada move closer with infinite hesitation. Now, Yukimura can see how his skin is greener and his eyes have no white-just one large, black pupil that wavers as it watches him. The gills on the side of his neck flap against his skin. It's strange, but…fascinating, too.
"Sanada," Yukimura says. His voice breaks when Sanada stops swimming closer. He bites his lip and his eyes hurt, threatening tears again because Sanada is scared of him, staring and transfixed like an animal. "Please…" he whispers, "Sanada, I-I love you…"
Sanada's frown deepens. A line furrows into his forehead underneath his wet hair. His eyes lose contact with Yukimura's, instead becoming unfocused, the gaze falling somewhere over Yukimura's right shoulder.
Yukimura close his mouth. His heart pounds and his blood races around, rushing in his ears the way the sea ought to be. Maybe Sanada doesn't understand Japanese when he's a mermaid…?
He looks back at Sanada. Under the water, Yukimura balls his fist, refusing to give up. Fuji told him to be honest. So he'll be honest. Sanada is here, now, and the sight of him aches because he's so close to Yukimura and yet so far, too. Yukimura swallows. A lump forms in his throat, closing off from the sides. "Do you speak Japanese?" he asks, keeping his voice low.
"Yes!" Sanada snaps. "I'm not a fool!" His gills flap furiously and he scowls. That weird gurgling tarundoru noise emerges from his gills.
Yukimura melts. His body slides into the water as his heart flutters around his ribcage.
"Yukimura!" Sanada shouts.
Water splashes up all around him, like the fountains in downtown Yokohama at the shopping centre and Sanada moves-faster than Yukimura would have thought possible, given that he has to flop around like a seal from the water's shallowness here. Those same, strong arms wrap around his shoulders and hold him tight. Yukimura sinks into the embrace, sighing and light-headed: all of his blood rushes not to his head, but to his cock.
"Sorry for the trouble," he murmurs. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it at all, but having those arms around his body, holding him to Sanada's chest is worth a small lie. Sanada's skin is slicker and cooler than before, like the water Yukimura sits in. Yukimura's eyes flutter, but they don't close. Through heavy lids, he watches the light shift in Sanada's wet black eyes.
Sanada smells fishy and his gills flap open and shut as he holds Yukimura close. Yukimura can feel Sanada's heart beating under his skin and he's lost, completely and utterly in those black orbs staring into him, staring through him.
His own heart flies around, threatening to fly out of his mouth and his head tilts back, too heavy to hold up on his own and too light to stay down at the same time. Yukimura shivers. He raises his hand to touch Sanada's cheek. When Sanada winces, he touches the side of his head instead. Sanada's hair feels the same as always, thick and wet under his unsteady fingertips.
"I love you," Yukimura whispers. He won't give up, not until Sanada has heard him out at least. Sanada's arms loosen, but with his free hand, Yukimura grabs his shoulder and digs in, anchoring a hold. "Sanada, I…"
"I need you," he says. He clings to Sanada's shoulders, grasping his slippery skin as best he can when he leans close, his mouth parted as his forehead touches Sanada's jaw. He breathes in Sanada's smell and the water droplets clinging to his chest. His dick pokes Sanada in the side, just above where his tail must start. Yukimura sucks in his stomach as tension rises in his belly. He doesn't know if he wants this. The last time he saw Sanada's tail…
He shakes his head, rubbing his face against Sanada's jaw. No! This time it will be-
This time?!
Yukimura's eyes go wide.
"Not here," Sanada mumbles. He pulls back, trying to wriggle out of Yukimura's grip like a fish, but Yukimura holds tight, refusing to let go. Sanada turns away; his eyelids are half-closed as though he's trying to hide from Yukimura. Trying to hide those big, black eyes that send a shiver down Yukimura's spine as the image of Sanada below him, his eyes unable to roll back into his head as he flops and strains and groans Yukimura's name in pleasure flashes before Yukimura's own eyes.
Knowing he's hurt Sanada, knowing the words he called Sanada, Yukimura pulls back too. He clenches his jaw and keeps his arms around Sanada's waist. His feet dig into the sand and push. They move and Sanada stiffens.
"What are you-"
"You said not here," Yukimura says. "So I'm moving us to the rock."
"You're hurt!" Sanada says. His gills flap.
So are you, Yukimura thinks. He pushes into the sand again, but his foot catches the wrong way; pain stabs his ankle and makes him lose balance. He grabs Sanada, pulling him down on top of him as he falls back into the water.
But Sanada's always been the strong one. He frowns. He won't look Yukimura in the eye. It's awkward and wet and loud as Sanada splashes and flops in the water, half-carrying Yukimura, half-dragging his own body back onto the rock Yukimura had lain on.
Sanada heaves himself onto the rock and Yukimura lets go, his fingers slipping down Sanada's arms as he sits up. "Thank you," he says. The hairs under Yukimura's fingers are downy and soft, almost like seaweed in their greenish tinge. Now, he can see Sanada's tail and the silvery sheen of the scales running down it, all the way to the fin at the end, which dips into the water, limp and lifeless.
"Sanada," he says. He tips his head, trying to encourage Sanada to look at him. He touches Sanada's shoulder with a light hand, then his jaw, stroking the bone with the pad of his thumb. Yukimura can feel Sanada shiver under the touch, but still Sanada won't meet his eye.
"You…pity me," Sanada mutters.
Yukimura shakes his head. "No!" he says. "I don't! I-"
"I don't want to be pitied," Sanada says. His voice is so low that the distant squawks of gulls and the low, continuous rumble of the lapping waves nearly drowns him out. Yukimura's throat feels thick. His heart sinks, heavy and cold into his stomach.
"No!" he insists. He beats his hand down on Sanada's arm, ignoring Sanada's wince. "Sanada, that's not it!" He keeps shaking his head, but Sanada won't turn, Sanada won't lean into his hand and gurgle. His gills don't even flap-they stick up, all frilly and stiff and the sight of it makes Yukimura bristle.
"I'm fine," Sanada says. Then, his voice drops another notch, sounding all broken and bubbling when he adds, "Sorry for the trouble." His tail starts to slide into the water and he pushes himself away from Yukimura with his arms. His biceps shift and bulge as his tail dips deeper into the water, ready to leave one last time.
Yukimura squeezes Sanada's arms hard, refusing to let go. Sanada tugs and Yukimura pulls and finally, finally Sanada's eyes lift to his, wet and wavering and so deep that Yukimura is lost.
"You saved me," he says. "It was you."
Sanada's arms go slack. His tail hangs off the edge of the rock. He says nothing.
"You-I need you!" Yukimura says through his teeth. His eyes sting but he doesn't care. He pulls at Sanada's arm and he grabs Sanada's hair, fisting his hand into in it to get closer. "I need you!" he says. The words get harder and harder to say as his throat chokes up with a sob.
"You know what I am!" Sanada snaps. He whips his head up and Yukimura can see his teeth, sharper and whiter than any human should have. "I'm a freak!"
Hot tears drip down Yukimura's face before he realizes that they are tears staining the dark stone between them. He's crying. Crying hard enough to make his chest shake and his stomach churn and he doesn't care if Sanada sees or not. He doesn't care what Sanada thinks. "I was wrong," Yukimura says. Tears cut his words off, making him cough again. Yukimura keeps shaking his head, keeps combing Sanada's hair back, his heart shattering at the crestfallen way Sanada looks down at the tears.
"I'd…I'd even become a fucking sea urchin for you," Yukimura mumbles. He doesn't really want to be an urchin, but it gets Sanada's attention. His tail twitches in the water, stirring up sea foam. Yukimura loosens his grip as Sanada looks up at him; his eyes widen even more as his mouth hangs open. Yukimura adds, "If it meant we could be together."
Then, Yukimura slams his fist down on the rock. "Dammit Sanada!" he shouts. "I-"
But he's cut off by that sound, the same sound he heard on the beach, all those weeks ago. The same sound that was on the news.
The same gurgling, soft and bubbling "Tarundoru" that makes him hard and aching and desperate to be touched and kissed and held.
Yukimura moans.
And then, when Sanada heaves himself onto the rock all the way, Yukimura presses his body to Sanada's and moans into a kiss as lips search his, all salty and wet and cool and wonderful. Sanada freezes, but when Yukimura teases his lips with the tip of his tongue, sliding it over and over, teeth biting Sanada's top lip and tugging-gently enough to not hurt, but hard enough for Sanada to know he's not joking about this-Sanada finally relents.
With a groan from the back of his mouth, and a strange fluttering of air from the gills on his neck, he opens his mouth and lets Yukimura in. It feels strange to kiss Sanada and not think about the scaly tail between his legs instead of a warm thigh. It feels weird to roll his tongue over Sanada's and moan and touch Sanada's arm when alarm bells sound in his head and remind him that his other hand is dangerously close to those gills.
Sanada tastes the same as before, though: salty, sweet, mostly just wet, like the water. His kisses are hard and frantic and his hands, so hesitant and careful moments ago now splay over Yukimura's back, pulling him close and tight, enough to choke when his shirt starts to ride up and his stomach touches Sanada's chest.
As his thoughts drift off and Sanada shifts, sliding more on top of Yukimura, his weight damp, but comforting, Yukimura stops kissing him. His tongue goes slack. Sanada pulls away, saliva trailing from his lips when he looks down, mouth open and throat swallowing. His gills move.
"Yukimura…?" he says. His eyes cloud over with that same fearful darkness. Yukimura shakes his head quickly. He slides his hand up the back of Sanada's neck, mindful of the gills that he's avoiding.
And Sanada seems to realize it. His gills close up, flat against his skin and he sighs through his mouth, a tiny moan in the back of his throat.
Yukimura sighs too. He lifts his hand, hovering it over the gills. He bites his bottom lip and looks at Sanada, smiling as he lifts himself up to kiss Sanada softly. "May I…may I touch your gills?" he whispers.
The look on Sanada's face makes Yukimura giggle. His eyes bug out and his jaw drops. His gills puff out, like a frill, and then a slow, fierce blush paints his cheeks. After a long moment, of the sea swishing brushing the shoreline and the gulls circling above, Sanada nods once.
Yukimura swallows his pride. He swallows his nerves, too, and digs deep inside for the same raw courage he needed for his operation, for the Nationals, and for being with Sanada in the first place. He rests his fingertips on the edge of the gills, right where they meet Sanada's neck and the ends of his dark hair, too, then he tilts his neck and nuzzles Sanada's shoulder, seeking the gills with his lips.
Maybe he should have thought more before he did this, because as soon as his lips touch the gills, Yukimura stiffens, too. Sanada gasps his name and the gills twitch. They feel like the rest of Sanada's neck-cool and damp from the water, smooth like his skin, except there is a long slit, then another and another. Yukimura pushes down the twisting tension inside and he licks a path along one of the slits, growing bolder when he hears the mewling noises Sanada makes. Sanada squirms and throws his head back: his half-sob, half-cry is music to Yukimura's ears. He licks back down the gill, smiling against Sanada's neck. Sanada's noises, Sanada's thrashing, the splashing he makes with his tail as he shudders and grabs at Yukimura's hair, it makes Yukimura all the more certain he wants this.
It makes Yukimura all the more hard between his legs. He trails his tongue across Sanada's jaw, kissing the side of Sanada's mouth and urging him to turn into a full-on kiss-which Sanada does, capturing Yukimura's lips so forcefully that Yukimura shakes this time, rubbing himself on Sanada's hip, right where his tail starts.
Yukimura explores with his tongue and his fingertips, ever sure that he wants this and that Sanada does too. It's weird, he supposes, to be kissing a merman, but at the same time, it's just Sanada. The boy who he loves, no matter what. Sanada's chest is the same. Sanada's nipples are the same: tight pebbles that Yukimura nibbles, grinning when Sanada arches back and pushes on his hip. Yukimura peels his shirt off, throwing the ruined mess into the sea. Sanada's eyes grow blacker, glazed with lust and reflecting the endless blue of the ocean and Yukimura's own naked chest.
He kisses Sanada's belly, laughing when Sanada sucks it in. He drags the ends of his hair over Sanada's navel, dipping his tongue into the hole and sucking on the skin, biting it, leaving red blooms to mark it as his own. He touches with his hands, running them over one scale that sits to the side of Sanada's bellybutton, a lone silvery hard scale.
"You have a stray scale," he murmurs. Sanada grunts. His fingers dig into Yukimura's back.
Yukimura goes back to exploring, searching out Sanada's real body; he runs his tongue over the swells and dips and valleys of Sanada's hips, hips that descend into a long, elegant tail that glimmers over the edge of the rock. And that's where it stops. Yukimura sits up and stares, blinking to make certain.
Sanada tries to sit up too, curling around his tail and wincing.
He has no dick.
Sanada opens his mouth. "I…you can't do anything with me," he mutters. "I'm not made that way." His voice trails off, lost in the faintest of breezes that flutters over their bodies.
Yukimura shivers. He shakes his head. "No…" He wants to tell Sanada that he doesn't care. They'll find a way. Even if he has to be a sea urchin or a starfish or a scallop. His own dick is swollen and tender, aching to be touched and rubbed and his balls strain with the need of release.
But Sanada doesn't have any of that. He doesn't feel it. His belly turns into hips turns into tail. Sighing, Yukimura lays back down against Sanada, tucking his body alongside and stretching his hand out over the area-approximately-where Sanada's bum would have been.
But his fingers feel something he doesn't expect. At all. Yukimura jumps-just enough for Sanada to notice and jerk back.
"Wait…" Yukimura says. His voice sounds breathy, excited and he is. His fingers slide back over that same area, feeling the pucker of a hole and something slightly sticky, but mostly slightly slimy, like mucus.
Yukimura's heart flies around, zipping around his chest and his dick pounds, harder than his pulse. "Sanada, you…we…can still…" Yukimura shakes his head. He's barely able to believe what his fingers feel. He tries to push a finger inside, curious as his stomach flip-flops with anticipation. But Sanada squeezes the puckered hole.
"Yukimura!" he gasps. "No- that-"
He's never done this before-not to himself, not to anyone else-but Yukimura smears the mucus-y fluid around Sanada's hole anyway, loving the way Sanada pants and twitches, as though Yukimura is sending electric shocks down his tail. Water splashes up. Yukimura rubs two fingers around the hole and leans close, licking a path from Sanada's earlobe to his gills.
Sanada chokes.
"I don't mind," Yukimura murmurs. He sucks on Sanada's earlobe, biting it between his teeth then tugging as he rubs against Sanada's face, cheek-to-cheek. Sure, the strange fluid coming out of Sanada's bum is strange and slightly sticky, but the way Sanada shudders and closes his eyes, the way the tendons in his neck strain and his arms shake…
Even if Sanada doesn't have a dick, Yukimura knows it must feel good. He circles his fingertips in lazy figure-eights over Sanada's hole again and again until Sanada is reduced to a shivering, mewling mess of sobs beside him.
"That's-nngh-that's where we fertilize-oh god! Yukimura!-fertilize from!" he sputters. Sanada writhes on the rock and Yukimura moans, too, from the tight, numb feeling rising between his legs as Sanada bucks and flops up against his thigh.
Yukimura stops the circles. He blinks. Sanada's lip curls up and he makes a funny noise, an angry rasping sound from his gills. "Eh?" he asks.
Sanada doesn't elaborate, but his furious blush suggests enough. He looks away and his tail flops against the surface of the water. "It's…it's embarrassing," he grumbles. He moves and wiggles away from Yukimura's arms, trying to sit up. Yukimura keeps a tight hold around Sanada's waist as he looks up with a soft smile.
"Will you show me?" he asks. "Will you show me your fertilizing?"
Sanada's mouth drops. A late drop of water falls from the ends of a lock of his hair, rolling down his nose and splattering on the rock. The sea swishes, calm and placid around them.
"It's…it's gross!" he says. His voice rises into a squeak. His face is redder than ever.
Yukimura doesn't know what all this fertilizing means, but he's read enough about fish before that he figures it's similar. Maybe mermaids lay eggs and then mermen like Sanada swim around near the egg and…deposit their little swimmers to make merbabies. Yukimura's hesitant too about whatever it all entails, but he wants Sanada. All of him. He wants this private moment while it lasts, so much that his heart aches, all stabbing like he's going to have another attack of the disease. He raises a hand to his chest, exhaling slowly to try to calm himself.
Then he stands up. Sanada's face twists up even more. He's worried. He's ashamed.
Yukimura pulls his pants down. He steps out of them, one leg at a time, shivering once the cool air hitting his bare legs. It's embarrassing for him to be standing on a rock with his underpants on (and probably all dirty and damp from almost drowning) and an erection tenting them.
His face burns. Sanada opens his mouth, struggling over a question, when Yukimura takes his underpants off too, flinging them over his shoulder toward the beach. He gasps at the shock of the spring morning, brisk all over his body, but when he lays back down next to Sanada, pressing his dick to Sanada's belly, it feels good. It feels right.
"I'll show you everything of me," he says. The words make him cringe inside-they're so cheesy, so corny, but then everything about right now is too. The calm wind, the glassy water reflecting their naked bodies, even the subtle clouds, floating in the sky lazily, lovely.
Yukimura wraps his arms around Sanada's neck, seeking Sanada's lips with his own. They kiss, slow and easy as Yukimura teases Sanada's mouth open; when he slips his tongue inside, his cock pulses and he thrusts against Sanada's lap.
"Please," he says, pulling away for a moment. "Sanada, I want to see everything of you…"
Conflict darkens Sanada's pupil-less eyes, but he nods enough to encourage Yukimura. In one move, Yukimura reaches back around Sanada's hips, toying at his hole again, relishing and moaning when Sanada squirms, Yukimura's name always on his lips.
And then he feels a weird burst of something cool and wet spray all over his hand. Sanada vibrates, from his neck down, and he hums out of his gills, long and low as the whatever keeps spurting all over Yukimura's hand. Yukimura lies there, staring somewhere in the space beyond Sanada's shoulder until the spraying stops and Sanada slumps down onto the rock, his gills flapping once against his neck before going flat.
Sanada didn't pee on me, did he…?
Carefully, Yukimura lifts his hand up behind Sanada's ass and he looks at it over the rise of Sanada's tail. His hand is covered in weird, watery white stuff that isn't quite pee, but it's not come either: it's too watery and there's far too much of it. It glues his fingers together in sticky strands and smells fishy.
Ew, he thinks. His eyes shift, hoping that he can wash it off before doing anything else. It makes the skin on his arm crawl.
But at the same time, he doesn't want to hurt Sanada. And he's horny, too-his cock throbs, his balls are so tight against his body, so hot and begging to be touched that when Yukimura does move enough to stretch his hand into the water and wash the fertilizer away, he groans and starts to thrust on Sanada's tail.
If Sanada's hurt, he doesn't show it. If Sanada's embarrassed anymore, he doesn't make that obvious either. Instead, he sighs heavily and rolls toward Yukimura. Instinctively, their arms reach out, pulling their bodies close together as their noses brush, lips seeking lips to kiss again. Yukimura can forget about the weird sticky watery stuff in the cracks of his hands because Sanada's kissing him back, passionate, long, hard kisses that thrill him to the toes, that make him hump Sanada's scaly tail and wrap his legs around Sanada and start to straddle Sanada and-
And then the purpose of that mucus-y slime around Sanada's puckered hole is clear. It hits Yukimura like a scud serve, straight to his skull.
Sanada sucks in a breath. "Yukimura!" he groans through his teeth as Yukimura kneels and Sanada wriggles up, his bum in the air and his head hanging down to his chest and Yukimura doesn't know fully what he's doing until he shakes and shivers and guides his dick into that hole, barely visible through the silvery scales if it wasn't for the clear mucus leaking from it. He sinks in, unable to breathe, unable to think because that hole is so tight and slick and he slumps forward onto Sanada's back, hands outstretched on the rock as he thrusts, slow at first, then faster, harder-
Like the motion of the waves, age-old and rhythmic and his own ass flexes and Sanada thrashes and flaps and pants, fast and furious and he pushes back against Yukimura and squeezes again and again and Yukimura's shakes, his thighs trembling and his stomach muscles too and he jerks once more before the waves crash over him. The tense pleasure bursts inside and he's shuddering and thrusting blindly and pushing deep down into Sanada as he pours himself, crying "Sanada!" over the smooth silence of the ocean.
The sense of repletion is odd, afterward. Yukimura lays his cheek to Sanada's chest, which rises and falls in shallow motions, too irregular and lengthy to ever be human. The waves pick up, gathering energy as they spill on the shore, sea foam and the remnants of their sex, too, washed ashore by the blue water. Sanada's arm is around Yukimura's waist and Yukimura presses a dry kiss to Sanada's collar, almost a chaste joke after what they just did.
He laughs inside, unable to suppress the smile that finds his lips. He's just had sex with a merman. Two months ago, he didn't know that mermen existed. Two months ago, he was struggling with his painting, with the water he wanted to capture on canvas, and now…
He still hasn't captured anything. The wheezes that rise from Sanada's gills are a tell-tale sign he has to return to the sea soon and it makes Yukimura choke up inside. The heavy lump reforms in his throat and his eyes sting. He snuggles closer, biting back a sob when Sanada's arm tightens too.
Don't leave me, he thinks. Sanada, why can't you stay with me forever…?
"You'll have to leave soon," Yukimura whispers. His voice wavers and he sniffles a little. Overhead, a seagull caws as four birds circle the beach, their beach now. Because Yukimura isn't alone. At least for the moment…
Sanada says nothing, but Yukimura is certain he can hear the audible sound of Sanada swallowing, too. Their fingers twine together, weaving tight and desperate as Yukimura raises them to his lips. He kisses the cool tips of Sanada's fingers. He sniffles again, and this time, a sob does rise.
"Will you be…watching me?" he asks. He kisses Sanada's thumb, his index, then his palm, cradling it to his face to wipe the tears that fall. "Can you do that, Sanada?"
Sanada nods and Yukimura can feel the wet spots of someone else's tears on his chin. He tilts his head, looking up at Sanada through blurry eyes and sees Sanada's big, unblinking eyes are shiny too. Pain stabs when he sees the heartbreak all over Sanada's face: in his trembling mouth, in his watery eyes, in the sniffs he tries to hide that emerge as shuddered breathing through his gills.
"I love you," he says, thick and strained. "Yukimura, I-"
Yukimura places a finger on Sanada's lips. The water bubble behind them and a cool breeze rushes over their legs as they strain, twine, twist together one last time. "I know," he murmurs. "Sanada, I know. I love you, too-I will always, I-"
Water boils on the underside of the rock, rushing up over the flat surface and spurting and shooting up like a fountain. Yukimura stops and his eyes go wide as a stream of water hits his face. He squeezes his eyes shut and coughs, spitting the water from his mouth and nose. "Sanada!" he yells. "Are you-"
A low rumble sounds, and at first, Yukimura thinks it's the water. An earthquake. He grabs the sides of the rock to balance, to stabilize himself. He tries to shout again, because Sanada is lost in a gush of water, like a crashing wave that pours over the rock, only the ocean is calm and quiet, it's just here and them being drenched.
Panic freezes him. For a second, Yukimura thinks he's drowning again, choking on water that fills his mouth and lungs and swirls all around him, but he's not dragged down, he's not dragged anywhere and when the water stops crashing up, he opens his eyes.
To see the flash of Sanada throwing himself across the rock, slamming down onto Yukimura as their bodies tumble into the serene surf. Yukimura struggles to surface, weighed down by legs and arms and Sanada's heavy, solid body, pinning him down in the water with strong, muscled thighs on his and-
Yukimura sputters. The water isn't deep, maybe a foot and he looks down, sitting up as his stomach strains and he shakes his head and starts to laugh and Sanada does too because neither of them believe it.
Sanada's crying and laughing and holding him so tight Yukimura can't breathe. He wriggles this time, touching Sanada's smooth neck and kissing his face, his lips, his eyes that are brown and big and normal and he pushes his body up against Sanada's. The laughter between them is unstoppable because there's a dick, swollen and poking his belly and hot and straining and Yukimura shakes his head some more, spraying water and tears and they're messy and salty and the water floods his ears but when his hands curl around Sanada's cock and Sanada groans and sputters and comes immediately…
It is the most beautiful, perfect thing.
To have the warm sun shining bright over their backs. To have the water a crisp shade of blue, tinged with green around the rocks. To take Sanada's hand in his own and stand up on shaking legs, walking along the beach together.
Yukimura knows he's found what he's been looking for all along.
Their feet sink into the sand, mindful of the pebbles and scattered driftwood as they amble. His hair lifts up on the faint wind and the smell of salty, thick ocean air fills up his lungs. Yukimura leans against Sanada's arm and squeezes Sanada's hand tighter. "Maybe tomorrow you can watch me paint, ne?" he says.
Sanada's "tarundoru" is gurgled no longer. Yukimura laughs.
There is a sandbank, maybe a hundred or two metres off shore. On the sand bank are coral mounds, dead and bleached white under the water's surface, some breaking the surf with a lone branch above the waves. On one such branch, a crab sits and watches the two boys on the beach, walking toward the dunes covered in swishing grasses. They lean into each other and their laughter is contagious, filling the air with a sound even more magical than any pearls of wisdom.
Fuji sighs. His antennae curl around and wiggle. Love, he thinks.
He feels something move across his shell: a large, heavy arm, comfortable and comforting, too. He leans into the tentacle that drips from the deep and clacks his claws when the tentacle scratches his back softly.
"Tezuka," he says, "I didn't think you would let Sanada have that."
The water bubbles nearby. One bubble bursts and sound pops. "Aa."
Fuji smiles. "Let's go home, too." He scuttles along the narrow branch and hops onto the tentacle arm, then they glide through the water and swim off into the deep.
Together.
*--+--~--THREE YEARS LATER--~--+--*
Yukimura bangs on the bathroom door. When Sanada doesn't answer, he frowns deeper and purses his lips. In the main room, he can hear the frantic splashing from the tank and the microwave dings. Supper is ready. Yukimura knocks again, but he gives up after the second and slides the door open instead.
"Are you almost done?" he asks.
From the tub, Sanada's head pops up. His tail slaps down on the water and he mumbles something about not being able to find the scrub brush.
"Well, it's almost supper time for the kids and they're getting antsy," Yukimura says. Sanada frowns and slides back under the water. Yukimura pads across the floor, his health slippers sticking to the damp tiles. Sure enough, the scrub brush is in the same place as always, by the bucket under the shower head. He tosses it to Sanada.
"I have practice tomorrow at the university. I don't want to be up late."
Sanada grunts. "I'm almost done."
As much as the memory of seeing Sanada rise up out of the sea that day, covered in clinging seaweed and sea foam never hesitates to make Yukimura weak in the knees, seeing Sanada walk out from the bathroom with a towel slung around his hips and droplets sliding down his broad chest makes Yukimura hard too. Every single evening. All Sanada has to do is walk into the kitchen-frowning and looking for the spam fritters-and cock his head back to move the hair from his eyes and Yukimura is gone in a fantasy of what tonight will bring in their bedroom:
Sanada's yukata thrown off his body. Their futon mattress sliding all over the tatami floor. Hands in his hair to pull his head to Sanada's cock, his own cock dark and hard and straining and leaking as he shudders and shakes under Sanada. Sanada will grunt and his skin will be slick with sweat and then Yukimura will hook a leg around Sanada's calf and dig his ankle in when he comes, untouched and-
"Yukimura?" Sanada asks.
Yukimura blinks. He clears his throat and looks down at his feet, face on fire. "Nothing," he says, smiling to himself. "I just fed them, but they probably want a song before bed."
Sanada sighs. He tries to huff and look surly and unwilling as he walks over to the tank and asks what they want tonight's song to be, but really, Yukimura knows that Sanada enjoys singing the eels to sleep. Tonight's song is one from karaoke with Yanagi and Yagyuu and Niou last night, some cheesy American pop ballad that makes Sanada's voice crack on the high notes.
But the eels love it. They flap and splash and swim in circles. Yukimura walks up to Sanada and looks down at the tank, smiling at the eels as he rests his face against Sanada's arm. Sanada closes the tank, sliding the mesh over the top and then wishes them all a good night.
"Momo-chan and Ume-chan and Unagi-chan and Kage-chan and Gengo-chan and Sakura-chan and Himiko-chan and Nami-chan and Hoshi-chan and Kouhei-chan, good night," Sanada says. He flicks off the light switch by the tank, merging the water in the same dim darkness as the rest of the room.
The two of them start for the bedroom. Sanada's hand slides from Yukimura's waist to his hip, protective and anticipatory when Yukimura suddenly stops in the middle of the hallway, right by the painting of the ocean.
"Sanada!" he says. "We forgot one!"
Quickly, Yukimura rushes back to the tank where a single eel, short and stumpy with beady black eyes stares at him from the other side of the glass. Yukimura sighs and smiles, tapping the tank with his finger. "Good night to you, too, Jin," he says. "Daddy's sorry he forgot you, ne?"
Yukimura glances back over his shoulder. Sanada scuffs his toes on the floor-his webbed toes that Yukimura will have in his mouth with a gasping Sanada above him in a few minutes. "Yes," Sanada mumbles. "I'm sorry."
When they go back to their bedroom the second time, Yukimura makes sure to close the door. Just to be certain the children don't hear them. As he touches Sanada's hand and brings it to his lips, he can hear the sound of the ocean tide rushing in the distance. The moon shines through the open window, a stream of pearly light across the floor that turns Sanada's skin milky and smooth, almost the way it used to be before. Yukimura blood rushes and he looks up at Sanada.
"Tomorrow evening, do you want to play a game of tennis at the streetcourts?" Yukimura asks. He nuzzles Sanada's jaw, rubbing his cheek on the prickly stubble. Sanada hums, his chest rumbling in vague agreement before he leans down and captures Yukimura's mouth in a kiss.
Even if they only have one lifetime together, Yukimura knows it's more than enough.
He weaves his hands through Sanada's damp hair and kisses back.
THE END