Fish Story (More or Less)
ʚ Title: Fish Story (More or Less) for skyroll ♡
ʚ Pairing(s): Chanyeol/Kyungsoo
ʚ Rating: R
ʚ Warnings: Tentacle porn
ʚ Word Count: 6,719 words
ʚ Summary: The tale of fisherman Kyungsoo, who was fooled twice by the ocean, and octoman Chanyeol, who's truly a scientist.
ʚ Message for your recipient/author note: I Did My Very Best But Anyway Sorry
It’s a thing that Kyungsoo’s father used to say a lot: a fisherman’s true love is either a river or the sea. No matter how many times betrayed, a fisherman always comes back to the water, to be fooled as many times as they’d never allow no human fool them.
Kyungsoo’s father had the strange ability of giving the least encouraging words of encouragement a person could think of. Thanks for telling me I’ll drown one day, dad, Kyungsoo frequently thought when he remember his father’s words. Coincidentally, they always come to his mind when times are rough.
In the first part of his tale, for instance, Kyungsoo is facing a storm. An intense, sudden storm, one that he had indeed foreseen, from the dark clouds that were coming from the horizon, but chosen to ignore in favor of having something to eat the following day. You can’t really say Kyungsoo has anyone else to blame but himself right now.
“I’m an idiot,” he mutters repeatedly as his boat tosses and turns in the angry waves, lightning cracking and thunder roaring in the distance. Rain hits him in big heavy dollops, leaving him drenched to the bone and extremely cold in a very short amount of time. “Idiot, idiot, idiot,” he chants, either as a spell, a lamentation, or a rap song, as none of his efforts to steer the boat back to the coast cause minimal effect.
One thing Kyungsoo is sure about the sea: it is sentient, and it wants to fuck him up. The more he works in the steering wheel, small arms almost falling off from the inhuman effort, the stronger the waves get. He can’t rely on his feet anymore, slipping and twisting with the gravity variation, and he wonders how long that will last, how much longer until his arms give in and let him plunge into the angry ocean.
Answer is: no much longer. As Kyungsoo grits his teeth and gives the wheel one last jolt, using all of his strenght, the sea says ‘fuck it’ and flips Kyungsoo’s boat upside down. It clearly gives no fucks. As his exhausted body sinks into the furious water, Kyungsoo promises that, if he survives, he’s going vegan and never even looking at the sea again. Fool me twice... Kyungsoo loses conscience.
In the second part of this tale, Kyungsoo wakes up with something cold and slimy all over his face, but, luckily enough, it’s not the eventual touch of death. It startles him as if it were, though, and he flails for a very brief second before his body computes the amount of salty water in his lungs and starts expelling it all rather inelegantly. He coughs and splutters and snorts it out, turning onto his stomach to make it a bit easier for it all to come out, arms and legs wobbling like jelly as he fails to get on all fours. It takes him a while to get everything out, and, by then, the cold slimy feeling is gone from his face...
… and is instead nudging his butt as a voice says, “Hello...?”
Kyungsoo turns around too quick, falling on his butt on a puddle of his own salty vomit. He’s almost feeling humiliated when he sees the life form that’s talking to him; then, there’s no room for any other feelings but surprise, shock, and a dash of horror.
Kyungsoo has his eyes on a mermaid.
Merman?
Octoman...?
It’s just like a mermaid, but it’s a dude, and instead of a fish tail, it has an octopus... or squid? … ‘tail’, per se. Tentacles. Just, tentacles. Also, the thing doesn’t look like it would sing to Kyungsoo to lure him into the sea, so...
“Uh...” The octoman mutters hesitantly, wide eyes meeting Kyungsoo’s own wide eyes. “Are... you... okay? Like...”
Kyungsoo blinks. “I’m alive,” he deadpans.
The octoman laughs. “That’s right. Well, that’s good? I guess,” he nods, and gets closer, oh god, it moves just like you’d think an octoman does, squirmily but surprisingly fast. “You need a lift or something? Can you walk? My name is Chanyeol, by the way.”
Kyungsoo blinks once again, trying to get on his feet by himself. It’s an homeric effort. He almost falls back down at a moment, but one of Chanyeol’s tentacles shoots forward to hold him in place. “Thank you,” Kyungsoo mutters, the slimy and cold touch around his waist making him a bit uncomfortable. “I’m Do Kyungsoo. I’m a fisher.”
“Ooh. Well, that explains the boat. Sorry about the boat, by the way, it’s totaled,” Chanyeol makes a face. “I tried to get it back without damaging it too much when I saw it, because I presumed it was yours, but... yeah, so much for that.”
“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo assures him, only now noticing that his clothes are still drenched, and that, since it’s nighttime and he’s by the seaside, he’s inviting a pneumonia in at the time. “I’m alive. That’s good enough.”
Chanyeol shrugs, as if he didn’t think that was good enough. Then, he takes a good look at Kyungsoo - small, exhausted, trembling Kyungsoo - and asks once again, “are you sure you don’t want a lift?”
Kyungsoo lives atop of a cliff. He doesn’t know how an octoman would give him a lift from the beach to the top of a rocky cliff, but he’s pretty sure he has lived through enough strong emotions in one day. “I’ll pass. But thank you for offering.” He smiles, and then bows politely. “I should leave now. Thank you for saving my life.”
“You’re welcome!” Chanyeol bows back, clearly just mimicking Kyungsoo’s own bow. “Since you’re a fisher, we should see each other around. Maybe when you get another boat or something? Or if you come to swim or something,” the octoman shrugs. “Anyway, I should get going. Bye!”
Chanyeol dexterously squirms away, into the sea, not even turning his back to Kyungsoo. What an strange, hypnotizing sight. It’s only when Chanyeol can no longer be seen in the dull darkness of the sea that Kyungsoo gathers himself and gets going, gearing himself to a long, long climb up to where his house is.
One step, two steps. He trips and falls down face-first, sand invading his eyes and mouth.
Humiliation.
In the third part of this tale, Kyungsoo is... tormented. It might be an startling change of pace, from life-threatening to mythical-absurd to now this, but what can I say? Kyungsoo is a lonely man.
Kyungsoo is lonely in more ways than one, lacking human contact in all possible levels. His parents are dead; he has no friends; he talks to no one, not even in the market, where people might talk to him, but he doesn’t have much to answer with; and, even after being alone for so long, sometimes having his own company isn’t enough.
Do you understand? Must I say anything else? So not to dishonor Kyungsoo with my unmeasured, perhaps crude even, words, I’ll let the narrative speak for itself.
Kyungsoo is taking a hot bath to defrost. By the time he arrived at his home, his teeth were clattering like clap shoes, and he could barely feel the tip of his fingers or the tip of his nose. So, first things first, he went in (the sun rises behind him), locked the front door, stripped, and got himself under the hot water.
After scrubbing and washing and scrubbing and washing, he’s letting himself soak for a while. The warm water soaps through his cold flesh, appeasing the white-hot pain starting to form bone-deep in his arms, and, as he relaxes, he starts thinking of the octoman.
Chanyeol, he had said.
What an strange creature.
What an strange creature...
…
A small bud of restlessness blossoms in Kyungsoo’s chest. When he falls asleep in his bed, later, when the sun is already high in the sky, the contents of his dreams are predictable.
Forgive me for being too elusive for the third part.
Regardless, we shall move on.
In the fourth part of this tale, Kyungsoo, despite his own promises at the occasion of his drowning, goes down to the beach.
The sun is scorching hot above his head, forcing him to look like a lost tourist with his big summer hat and sunglasses. His skin is unfortunately pale, and he knows better than to forgo protection, but he does look silly, in his shorts and old tee but with that giant hat on. Well, regardless... today, the sea is tranquil, few, small waves rolling to the shore, the waters tinted with a beautiful shade of blue. The pebbles roll and clack under Kyungsoo’s sandals as he walks along the shoreline, observing the tall menhirs that reach for the sky in the shallower part of the sea, and wonders what would’ve happened if he had hit one of those when the storm happened. It wouldn’t have been pretty. Maybe the ocean does care, a little bit.
Kyungsoo walks into the sea a little bit. The water covers his feet, warm and transparent, inviting. He does know how to swim; even despite the recent trauma, he could, he could swim a little right now, couldn’t he? The water is calm. If he stays in the area before the menhirs, it’ll be okay. (Is that the sea talking to him?) Seriously though, he can’t stay away from the sea forever. He’s a goddamn fisherman.
The decision is made. Kyungsoo takes off his hat, sunglasses, sandals, and shirt, bundling them all up and leaving them on the sand. His foot is massaged by the pebbles as he goes in, slowly, step by step. By the time the water is knee-level to him, he starts swimming.
The water is so good, ah. It’s warm, but fresh, pleasant for hot sunny days like this one. Kyungsoo swims leisurely, turning his belly up to the sky, admiring the blue, cloudless sky...
In the fifth part of this tale, Kyungsoo wakes up. What he thought had been merely a blink had actually been several hours of sleep, and, when he wakes up from it, the sky is dark with the last colors of the sunset.
Kyungsoo immediately straightens up, and almost suffers from an aneurism when his feet miss the seabed. In the distance, he sees the shoreline. In the very distance. The menhirs look so small from there.
Jesus fucking Christ, not again, Kyungsoo thinks in despair as he starts swimming for the beach, but the currents pull him further into open sea. He truly should’ve kept his promise. Once again, it’s all his fault. As a fisherman, who’s supposed to be in tune with the water, Kyungsoo is a shame.
Just when he’s thinking that his situation couldn’t get worse, something grabs his leg. “GRAAAHLAHALSHAGH,” he gurgles, salt water invading his mouth and years of juvenile nightmares involving sharks, jellyfishes, and sentient algae come alive. What a truly horrible death.
“You seem to get in an awful lot of trouble,” a voice says from unexpectedly near.
Kyungsoo manages to calm down, acquiring the momentarily stability his body requires to turn his head. He turns. And he sees: it’s the octoman!!
“You!!” He screams, in simmultaneous horror, surprise, and relief. “You-octoman!!-what’s your name again?!”
“Hey! That’s rude!” Octoman complains, and the thing around Kyungsoo’s leg lets go; it had been one of his tentacles, apparently. “Octoman! That sounds ridiculous! My name is Chanyeol!”
“Chanyeol-I am so sorry, I’m,” Kyungsoo is getting tired of swimming. Yes, he does know how to swim, but he’s not stellar at it, and soon it’ll be too dark for him to swim around. “Please help me? I’m in a pinch right now.”
“So I notice,” Chanyeol observes, looking around. “What are you doing around here without your boat? Don’t you know that there are sharks around here?”
“Sharks!” Kyungsoo yelps in terror. How could he forget? The water had been warm! They could’ve easily swam this close to the shore! “Chanyeol, please, please help me. I’ll do anything for you if you help me. Please.”
“Hm,” Chanyeol rises an eyebrow, and glances distractedly at the sky, as if thinking. Kyungsoo is terrified. “Anything?” Kyungsoo nods. “Promise?”
“Promise. Swear on my life,” Kyungsoo assures, and Chanyeol looks satisfied. “Please help me to swim back.”
“Sure thing. Climb on my back,” Chanyeol invites, smiling widely at him. Kyungsoo does as told, arms tight across Chanyeol’s tanned chest, legs tight around Chanyeol’s slim waist. “Well, I was gonna do it anyway, but since you promissed...”
Kyungsoo doesn’t have the strength to argue, discuss, or simply reply. He just stays there, holding on tightly as Chanyeol shoots his squirmy body towards the beach at top speed.
You can still consider this as the fifth part, if you may. They arrive at the shore.
“Thank you,” Kyungsoo mumbles as he topples over the pebbles, pretty much rolling towards the sand of the safe, dry shore. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Chanyeol stands up straight, chest puffed with pride. “So, about your promise...”
“Yes,” Kyungsoo pants, barely turning his head to look at Chanyeol, just laying there on the sand, body limp. “Anything. I’ll do anything.” Anything...
“Very well then. I want to... visit your house!” He announces it as if it were the most absurd thing he could probably ask. “How’s that? You promised.”
“That’s okay for me,” Kyungsoo assures, having expected things much worse, like a lost treasure, or, you know, stuff. “But why? Also, do you know where my house is?”
“There?” Chanyeol points at the only cliff nearby, atop of which Kyungsoo’s house lay, not much on the inconspicuous side. Hm. An unexpectedly easy guess. “And I want to because humans are always going down to where I live but none of my kin gets into a human’s house unless they’re dead. Unfair, right?”
“Right,” Kyungsoo nods.
“So, you have to let me in.” Chanyeol declares cheekily. After a pause, though, he makes an apologetic face. “I’ll probably get your stuff wet. Sorry.”
“No problem,” Kyungsoo assures him with a hand gesture. “You can raid my bathtub. I don’t mind.”
Chanyeol gasps. “A bathtub!” he screams excitedly, and Kyungsoo, who’s just regaining his forces and sitting up, fails to see what’s so exciting about a bathtub, but snickers to himself at the octoman’s excitement. “Next time the water gets closer to the land I’ll go up to your house. And you’ll let me in. Deal?”
“Deal,” Kyungsoo affirms, offering his pinky finger for a pinky promise or something. It seems like octopeople have a custom similar to it, but, instead of offering a pinky, Chanyeol latches the base of a tentacle to Kyungsoo’s neck, and the suction cup almost tears Kyungsoo’s flesh off.
“Ouch!” Kyungsoo screams.
“Sealed! No backing out!” Chanyeol yells ominously as he squirms back into the ocean. “See you, Kyungsoo!”
When he gets home that night, Kyungsoo sees himself in his bathroom’s mirror, and sees a dark, dark purple bruise on his neck, perfectly circular. He touches it with the very tip of his fingers, and it doesn’t hurt, but the wince he makes echoes quietly against the tiles.
In the sixth part of this tale, it’s raining cats and dogs, and the tide is the highest of the past three years. Therefore, it’s understandable that Kyungsoo is a bit on edge since morning, tidying everything up, checking his fridge for food, cleaning the bathroom, preparing some salt water for the case Chanyeol’s tentacles get too dry... et cetera. He can’t be sure if Chanyeol will come today, but Chanyeol’s words had been the closest to an appointment that he’d get, so he might as well get ready for it...
Kyungsoo is watching the storm from his front window, admiring the distant, turbulent gray sea and the tall waves that crash against the rock, when he notices something. There’s something wrong with the very tip of the cliff, something is moving there. Oh God, the cliff isn’t about to crash, is it? The probability of Kyungsoo’s home being swallowed by the ocean in case the cliff breaks down is of eighty-five percent, a probability too high for him to be taking any risks. He stays calm for now, watching, but mentally prepares for a possible flight should things get dire.
However, the more he watches the movement, hard to distinguish as anything thanks to the haze of the heavy rain, the less it looks like the cliff collapsing, and the more it looks like... something... moving towards the house. Maybe it’s Chanyeol! But wait a minute. If it really is Chanyeol, how did he get up there? Did he climb the tall, steep rocky wall of the cliff, which at some points registers a negative-degree inclination? That must’ve been... quite the task...
The form gets closer, and it is, indeed, Chanyeol. Kyungsoo opens the door to welcome him, and regrets it a little, because the rain hits him full-frontally and he gets wet pretty much immediately.
“Hello!!” Chanyeol greets as he finally arrives, tentacles squeaking on the moist grass. “The weather, huh? You don’t look too happy.”
“I’m not a fan of rain,” Kyungsoo admits, despite himself. “Come in. I have salt water inside, for the case you get too dry.”
“That’s so nice of you!” Chanyeol exclaims, squirming his way in. As expected, he leaves a faint trail of slime on the wooden floor, but Kyungsoo doesn’t mind. It’s been a while since he’s had an acquaintance over. “Oooh man this is so nice. Look at this! I’m in a human’s house!”
“It’s not much,” Kyungsoo dismisses, aware that his home is stark naked in the inside, lacking any decorations appart from the old fishing gear displayed as trophies on one of the walls. “Should I get you anything to eat? … Do you eat fish, or is it cannibalism?” Kyungsoo is aware he might’ve been a bit too straightforward, but hey, he needs to know.
“Well, it is cannibalism, but sharks are cannibals,” Chanyeol shrugs. “Fish is good. Also. Bathtub.”
In the seventh part of this tale, they eat a meal in a bathtub. It’s surprisingly comfortable, after they go through the initial struggle of filling the tub with all the salt water Kyungsoo had prepared, and after Kyungsoo finds space for himself, somewhat cradled above the surface by Chanyeol’s tentacles.
“I’m probably too heavy,” Kyungsoo had said when Chanyeol first offered him support, and Chanyeol had scoffed at him.
“Oh, please, you weigh naught,” Chanyeol had dismissed, eating fish and algae rolls. “Also, do you know how strong those are? Don’t sweat.”
Well, they did feel strong under Kyungsoo’s back and buttocks, muscle-y and firm to the touch...
They talk about all the things an human and a mer-human have to talk about - which is a lot of things. The different society dynamics, housing dynamics, feeding dynamics...
“You know, one thing I don’t understand about humans,” Chanyeol starts off in a loud voice as he finishes off the lastof his improvised fish-and-algae dumplings, “is this.”
Kyungsoo waits for some kind of punchline - and yelps when it comes as a tentacle lifting his shirt. “Hey!!” he shouts, pulling the shirt back down, blushing and laughing in embarrassment. “What are you doing?!”
“See? I don’t get it!” Chanyeol looks truly exasperated. “Why do you wear so many accessories? Why don’t you take them off?”
“These aren’t accessories, these are clothes!” Kyungsoo protests, feeling hot all over. He’s sure that even his thighs are blushing.
“What’s the difference!” Chanyeol flails. “It’s not like you need them to survive! See, I don’t wear any! And I am closely related to humans, in a way,” he adds, seeming to immerse in an intense reflection over that fact as Kyungsoo notices, quite bashfully, that Chanyeol, indeed, does not wear any clothes.”
“It’s different,” Kyungsoo protests weakly. “We need them to cover our genitals. They’re not retractile and would be exposed to danger if we didn’t hide them artificially.”
Chanyeol’s jaw drop. Kyungsoo is red all over. He himself can’t believe in how full of shit that explanation just was. “Are you serious?” Chanyeol’s eyes are wide. Kyungsoo is already putting together some kind of dismissive sentence in his head. “They’re... just... out there?”
Kyungsoo pauses. “Oh?” Ah, he’s talking about... “Oh! Uh... in a way? Like, not out there out there but...”
“If you take your clothes off, it pops out?” Chanyeol tries to fill in the blanks, but all he gets is surprised, mortally embarrassed laughter from Kyungsoo. “I’m just trying to learn! Can I take your clothes off?”
“I!! You sure are shameless!” Kyungsoo explodes in outrage, and, half-drunk in laughter, he realizes that his unfortunately restless heart does not oppose to that. “Fine. But I won’t move at all.”
Chanyeol scoffs. “Oh, that’s a bummer. It’s not like I can lift you or anything, right?” Chanyeol mocks at the same time four of his tentacles grab Kyungsoo’s limbs and lift him in the air. Kyungsoo gasps, both in startle and in another type of startle, as the suction cups attach to the creamy flesh of his thighs a bit painfully. “Now, let’s see...”
When Chanyeol grabs Kyungsoo’s shirt once again, it’s with his own human hands, finger grasping the damp cotton with curiosity. He frowns, looking at where his own tentacles hold Kyungsoo’s arms, calculating. “How should I do this...”
“Please don’t destroy my clothes,” Kyungsoo pleads, opposing remarkably little to this situation. “I don’t have many.”
“Destroying them would defeat the purpose of all this! It’s the challenge that matters!” Chanyeol is a nerd. A mernerd. Octonerd. Truly fascinating. “Okay, so I’ll do this...”
He lets go of one of Kyungsoo’s arms at the same time he lifts the shirt with his hand; soon, the recently freed tentacle wraps around Kyungsoo’s torso, slimy and cold and oh. Kyungsoo might be feeling too much. Meanwhile, the other tentacle unwraps from Kyungsoo’s other arm, and extends to hold both of his arms up by supporting them gently. “Ha!” He yelps, and sucessfully removes a limp Kyungsoo’s shirt. “How’s that?”
“Good,” Kyungsoo approves. “You did well. Very smart.”
“Your nipples are funny looking,” Chanyeol giggles, putting a suction cup over one of said nipples. He presses. And then pulls, with a loud wet sound, and Kyungsoo howls.
“Don’t do that again,” he pleads, limbs wobbly, heart racing.
“Okay, sorry,” Chanyeol simply says, moving onto The Pants Puzzle, and Kyungsoo feels a bit sad that he didn’t insist. “So now, this...”
“It has more underneath,” Kyungsoo warns, and he has no idea why he just said that, but well.
“You tell me! Why all of this!” Chanyeol flails once again, frustrated. Salt water sprinkles the bathroom walls. “Well, anyway... this should be easy now...”
He uses the same technique he used for the shirt; lets go of one leg, supports through waist, keeps legs straight but without holding, and pulls. During the entire time he maneuvers Kyungsoo, he has a fascinated, excited glint in his eyes, and Kyungsoo gives up on shame and starts thinking of a good way to ask Chanyeol to go further once he’s done with the clothes.
“So it does have more underneath. Oh?” Chanyeol has his pants down, a tentacle pulling them off and tossing them aside absentmindedly, but his eyes are on Kyungsoo’s crotch. Kyungsoo’s black boxers are still on, but what catches Chanyeol’s attention is... “Is this it? The genital?”
Kyungsoo groans, face tinted in red. “So you don’t have one.”
“I do! But it’s different,” Chanyeol defends, and, to Kyungsoo’s absolute distress, cups the bulge of his erection with his hands. “It’s, well, drier. And harder. To be honest, it’s completely different.”
“Don’t-” Kyungsoo’s breath hitches as Chanyeol toys with the bulge, still analyzing. “Don’t touch it like that.”
Chanyeol stops immediately. “Sorry. Does it hurt?”
“No,” Kyungsoo admits, wanting desperately for Chanyeol to just understand. “It, uh. Through tactile stimulus of the genitals, you get me ready for mating.” Where is Kyungsoo getting that shit from? Well, it’s still embarrassing to say it like that, but at least it sounds professional...
“Ooooooooh,” Chanyeol is fascinated. Does that mean he’s gonna go on? “But like, should I stop? It doesn’t bother me. Does it bother you?” His eyes are so round. And so dark. And just so. So. Kyungsoo sighs.
“Just wanted to let you know.” And it’s all he says.
And it comes as a relief to him, to me, and to you, reader, that Chanyeol understands him. He understands, nodding solemnly, and declaring: “I’ll go on then.” And he goes on, and Kyungsoo gasps when Chanyeol massages his hardening penis once again - this time, with one of his tentacles.
“God,” Kyungsoo moans, unbelievably strung. Chanyeol looks up when he moans, eyes drinking up every single detail, making Kyungsoo feel terribly - deliciously - exposed.
“I should conduct further research,” Chanyeol mutters to himself, and it might be an illusion, but his voice sounds a little bit higher when he says that.
With little effort and recently acquired practice, Chanyeol strips Kyungsoo of his underwear, leaving the human stark naked, covered in sweat, held up high by strong, but soft to the touch, tentacles. Kyungsoo has butterflies in his stomach, anticipating what comes next. Whatever it is, whatever it might be - he looks forward to it.
“Mind if I...?” Chanyeol asks, fingers suggestively dipping between Kyungsoo’s buttocks. Kyungsoo stops breathing for a moment, as he nods in consent and Chanyeol spreads them apart. His fingers are cool against the heated flesh... “Ooh. Is this an opening?” He asks, poking at Kyungsoo’s anus with his cool, cool fingers. “It seems to be. What for? Excretion? Reproduction?”
Kyungsoo laughs. “Are you a biologist? You know so much.”
“I’ve been to some wrecked ships,” Chanyeol states proudly. “So?”
“Excretion, mainly,” Kyungsoo answers. “But it has many utilities.”
Chanyeol frowns. “Like, for example...?”
Kyungsoo sighs. “Recreation.” Kyungsoo should know. His own fingers should know. A lot of miscellanic objects around his home do know...
“Huh...” it seems to be a new concept to Chanyeol. He pokes around for a while, tracing the rim with the very tip of his fingers and watching it flutter, until he brings a tentacle to it and Kyungsoo chokes on his own heartbeat.
“Aah... careful...” he pleads as the tentacle squirms against his hole, teasing it, and the slime, God, the slime is driving Kyungsoo crazy. “Please take care... the muscle...”
“Don’t worry. I’ll watch it,” Chanyeol promises, eyes fixed on Kyungsoo’s bottom, cheeks oddly rosy... “Tell me if it hurts, though.”
Kyungsoo nods, silently agreeing. Then, the tentacle pushes in.
“Fuck,” Kyungsoo breathes out, feeling the stretch, the easy slide of the shaft inside of him. “Fuck, fuck.”
It’s, obviously, unlike anything else. The tentacle slides in and out with unseen ease, one that, no matter how much lube Kyungsoo has used in the past, he had never been able to achieve. He feels a dull sensation of fullness as it slides in and in and in and it goes so deep that Kyungsoo can’t even moan, voice shaking from the sensation.
“This is amazing,” he hears Chanyeol note, and vaguely registers Chanyeol’s eyes on his cock. “It got up.”
“Yeah,” Kyungsoo gasps, and he wants to explain, but he can’t. He can’t, at the moment. “Mmmyeah, oh.”
He’s in a complete daze. The whole new world of being fucked by tentacles has possibly spoiled him for life, giving him pleasure like he has never experienced before, and he was just thinking that it couldn’t possibly get better when a tentacle got a grip of his cock. He literally screamed.
“FuckFUCK,” he screamed, and screamed more when the tentacle let go, “no, no, no don’t stop please don’t stop-”
“I thought you were in pain,” Chanyeol justifies in an apologetic tone, and the tentacle finds it way around Kyungsoo’s cock once again. While it pumps gently, sending Kyungsoo into momentarily overdrive, Chanyeol traces the purple circular bruise previously left around Kyungsoo’s nipple, and remarks: “So this is what you meant when you said you’d be ready for mating.”
Kyungsoo nods, eyes half-lidded. “Does your kin do this?” He finds it in himself to ask when his eyes meet Chanyeol’s own. “Sex for pleasure.”
Chanyeol’s eyes are glinting, his pupils dilated. His mouth is limply open, and his lips look plump, and pink, and wet... “Not really,” he answers, licking his lips as one of his tentacles lies across Kyungsoo’s chest. “But we should.” Press. And then, pull.
“Oh God,” the pain he feels is secretly made of enjoyment, because, secret to no one who knew him (which means, himself), Kyungsoo is a closeted masochist. He usually avoids pain at all costs, but, in cases like this... “This feels good, this feels so good...”
Chanyeol does it again. The sound of the suction cups letting go is obscene. When he tries something new and lets it suck the flesh of Kyungsoo’s navel, Kyungsoo’s entire body quivers, and Chanyeol’s breath hitches visibly.
“This is nice,” he comments vaguely, his tentacles starting to explore Kyungsoo’s whole body more. The tentacle that’s fucking Kyungsoo starts to move at a tortuously slow pace, as has the tentacle on his cock, and it all makes Kyungsoo feel desperate for more, just more.
So, when the tip of a tentacle caresses his cheek, he goes for it. He turns his head and gives it a lick. And the sound of Chanyeol’s breath halting still...
Kyungsoo doesn’t stop. With movements of his head and tongue, he persuades the tentacle to lower the tip to his lips, and his thighs quiver as he readies himself because my, oh my, what a slut he is. When he’s ready, he wraps his lips around the rounded end of the tentacle, tasting salt, and starts to suck.
“Oh,” Chanyeol sighs, mysteriously getting the message and pushing the tentacle further into his mouth. Kyungsoo doesn’t want to just suck - he wants to choke, so he keeps sucking, keeps inviting him further in... “Ooh.”
The tentacle fucking his ass mysteriously quickens its pace.
When Chanyeol finally throatfucks Kyungsoo, tentacle going down so deep that it feels like he’s just swallowing food, Kyungsoo thinks he might be about to come. There are tentacles across his chest, leaving hickey over hickey over hickey, and two tentacles on his dick, one caressing the base and other pumping at the tip, and one so deep into his ass and stretching him so good that he can barely think straight... he’s in heaven. He’s in tentacle heaven.
“Okay, so, listen,” and then, Chanyeol suddenly brings him down, removing the tentacles from his mouth, cock, and ass. Kyungsoo heaves. He’s so close, he’s about to cry at the loss, he needs to- “So, like, can I try something? I’m really not gonna hurt you or anything, but,” Chanyeol interrupts himself and licks his lips, expectant. It’s quite obvious that he’s turned on. It’s visible how turned on he is.
“Fuck me?” Kyungsoo deadpans, and Chanyeol’s eyes widen. “Please tell me you’re gonna fuck me or I’ll scream at you.”
“No! I mean, yes! But like,” Chanyeol justifies. “I want to, but it could be dangerous, because... uh, it’s, like...” he points at his waist; the very base of it, where, supposedly, his absurdly long tentacles find a joint. “Down there...”
Kyungsoo is suddenly curious. Insanely curious.
“Let me see. Can you show me?” He pleads, looking straight into Chanyeol’s eyes with what could be called a maddened gaze. Chanyeol sputters.
“Uh, well. Only fair, I guess,” he mutters to himself.
What Kyungsoo sees next is a very strange thing. It’s like a ninth tentacle emerging from, possibly, inside Chanyeol, but it’s... different. It’s paler in color than the others, and completely lacks suction cups, for starters. Then, it has a small opening on the tip; probably, Kyungsoo concludes, for ejaculation...
“How much sperm do you expel per mating?” Kyungsoo is very professional out of nowhere. Chanyeol spurts again.
“I... never measured...?”
Kyungsoo needs to know.
“Fuck me,” he commands. “I’m ready.”
Chanyeol does question the order.
Their configuration changes a bit. Chanyeol now holds Kyungsoo up like he initially did; one tentacle around each limb, and one around the waist, for support. Kyungsoo’s legs are spread wide; his hole, lubed up by octoslime, and clenching for attention. Once again, he’s all anticipation. Anticipation and kinks.
“Again,” Chanyeol insists as his genital tentacle, as Kyungsoo has chosen to call it in his mind, emerges once again. “Tell me if it hurts.” And he goes in.
It slides in with supernatural ease, like the first one has, and Kyungsoo realizes immediately that it’s not enough. This is not enough. He needs more.
“Another.” His voice is feeble.
Chanyeol blinks. “What?”
“Another,” Kyungsoo insists with a whine, breathing in deep, heavy pants. “Put another in. I need more.”
The octoman is completely speechless. His face is red like blood. “I... okay,” he breathes out, and one of his free tentacles pokes at the entrance. The excitement threatens to kill Kyungsoo.
Chanyeol stretches him slow, carefully, and it’s very sweet of him, Kyungsoo notices in his sexual haze. He really should stay friends with Chanyeol after this. He really should. He also should fuck Chanyeol more often after this, too, because the sensation the fills him once the second tentacle is in is otherwordly. Completely otherwordly.
“Yes,” he moans, biting his lip lewdly as the tentacle eases his way in. “Yes, yes, this, please, oh,” the seventh tentacle finds his cock, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes in bliss.
It seems, however, that Chanyeol is losing his self-control bit by bit. It doesn’t escape Kyungsoo that he fucks him a tiny bit faster this time, alternating the tentacles in and out, in and out, and the one he has toying with Kyungsoo’s penis is a bit more... playful.
“Harder?” Chanyeol asks, and it comes as a surprise to Kyungsoo. He, however, knows what he wants.
“Harder,” he agrees, offering Chanyeol a dazed, pleased smile. “As hard as you can.”
Chanyeol surprises him when he lifts Kyungsoo up from the waist, and downright slams him back down onto the shafts.
“Yes!” Kyungsoo screams in ecstasy, his insides burning with sheer satisfacion. “Yes, this, Chanyeol-”
He does it again. And again. And again, and again, and again, and again, and he soon is fucking Kyungsoo at piston speed, the tentacle around Kyungsoo’s cock now holding instead of teasing. At some point, his eight tentacle at last finds Kyungsoo’s mouth, and he justs inserts it there and lets gravity do the job for him.
“Fuck,” Chanyeol mutters as his eyes swim, threatening to close as his arms twitch in obvious pleasure. “Fuck, this is really good.”
Kyungsoo hums loudly in agreement, and Chanyeol stills him, suddenly starting to fuck him slow, nice and slow, sliding in and out gently. “Chanyeol!!” Kyungsoo protests as the tentacle momentarily leaves his mouth in order to trace his lips sensuously. It feels good, but... “What?”
“I’m gonna make you come,” Chanyeol says in a low, lazy voice, and oh, oh that was kind of hot. “I need to watch. So stay still.”
The tentacles gradually gain speed. They pump in and out Kyungsoo’s ass, wildly, stretching, and, when one of the tentacles that had been holding his arms up lets it go in order to try to breach into his ass as well, he loses it.
“I’m gonna-I’m gonna come, please, I’m,” he begs and sobs, and writhes, the sensations too powerful, the tentacle around his cock finally letting go in order to tease the head, as if urging him, come then, come, come for me. And it’s all he needs. “Aaahfhfuck I’m-”
Thick ropes of sperm shoot out of his cock, violently so even, as his entire body trembles and his mouth runs with expletives and profanities. Chanyeol’s tentacles don’t slow down, or go any shallower; they ride him through the orgasm, magnifying every sensation.
Tentacle heaven, Kyungsoo repeats in his head over and over again as he comes, and he’s so glad to be able to cross that particular kink out of his kink list that he takes particularly long to come down from his high.
When he does come down, though, he feels, at the same time, sore and completely relaxed. Chanyeol is laying limp in the bathtub, breathing slowly, tentacles dangling out as if dead. Only five of them stay up; the four that are still holding Kyungsoo in the air, now trembling with the effort; and the genital tentacle, staying still inside of Kyungsoo’s ass.
“You can let me down,” Kyungsoo suggests, and Chanyeol directs him a lazy glance. “I know I’m heavy.”
Chanyeol laughs breathily, voice hoarse. “You weigh naught, I told you.” But he does let him down, gently, back onto the bathtub, close enough to his own body that Kyungsoo looks like he’s sitting on Chanyeol’s lap.
The genital inside him is puzzling. “Why is it still inside?” Kyungsoo asks, leaning against the tub’s wall for support, and he hopes Chanyeol understands because he doesn’t want to explain.
“Just a minute,” Chanyeol asks, and Kyungsoo concedes. He waits. A few seconds pass, and then, without a word, Chanyeol slides the tentacle out. It’s dripping, Kyungsoo notices. “I’m sorry. It was... I was... you know...”
“You came inside me? That’s some nerve,” Kyungsoo feigns an objection, but it’s futile. He’s laughing.
He then takes a look at their surroundings. He sees the wet bathroom floor, the cum on the walls, the even bigger amount of cum floating in the bath water... what a magnificent mess they’re immersed in, huh...
In the eight and final part of this tale, they clean up the bathroom, and take a proper bath this time. Chanyeol reacts a bit badly to the soap, so he waits outside, a spritzer of salt water in his hands, as Kyungsoo cleans himself up and changes into a nice, clean, dry change of clothes.
“It was fun today,” Chanyeol comments bashfully when it’s, at last, time to go. Night has fallen, the rain has stopped, and it has started to look a bit too dry on land for him to stay any longer. “Go meet me when you get your boat back, right?”
“I’ll meet you even if I don’t have my boat back, apparently,” Kyungsoo jokes, referring to their most recent incident. Chanyeol laughs a bit hesitantly, scratching his nape.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he says. Kyungsoo frowns.
“Why are you taking the blame?” he asks a bit suspiciously. “I almost drowned. You saved me.”
“Yeah, but... well, nevermind.” Future Kyungsoo will look back into this incident and not really blame Chanyeol for not telling. After all, it’s hard to explain a thing that involves an old myth, a giant body of water, and a voice that’s not really there but is, in a way. “See you around, then?”
“See you around,” Kyungsoo replies, and it sounds a bit... flirtatious. He wonders if Chanyeol notices. “Be careful on your way back.”
“Sure thing,” Chanyeol assures him, and starts squirming away, advancing clumsily but quickly through the dry ground. Kyungsoo only leaves the doorway when Chanyeol is gone from his sight, the last squirmy tentacle disappearing under the rocks of the cliff.
That night, Kyungsoo goes to sleep with thoughts of his First Ever Friend, mind-blowingly awesome sex, and a set of hard-to-explain hickeys that mark his torso all over. He hopes the market people don’t notice. It’d be a hell of a fish story to tell.
ʚ Pairing(s): Chanyeol/Kyungsoo
ʚ Rating: R
ʚ Warnings: Tentacle porn
ʚ Word Count: 6,719 words
ʚ Summary: The tale of fisherman Kyungsoo, who was fooled twice by the ocean, and octoman Chanyeol, who's truly a scientist.
ʚ Message for your recipient/author note: I Did My Very Best But Anyway Sorry
It’s a thing that Kyungsoo’s father used to say a lot: a fisherman’s true love is either a river or the sea. No matter how many times betrayed, a fisherman always comes back to the water, to be fooled as many times as they’d never allow no human fool them.
Kyungsoo’s father had the strange ability of giving the least encouraging words of encouragement a person could think of. Thanks for telling me I’ll drown one day, dad, Kyungsoo frequently thought when he remember his father’s words. Coincidentally, they always come to his mind when times are rough.
In the first part of his tale, for instance, Kyungsoo is facing a storm. An intense, sudden storm, one that he had indeed foreseen, from the dark clouds that were coming from the horizon, but chosen to ignore in favor of having something to eat the following day. You can’t really say Kyungsoo has anyone else to blame but himself right now.
“I’m an idiot,” he mutters repeatedly as his boat tosses and turns in the angry waves, lightning cracking and thunder roaring in the distance. Rain hits him in big heavy dollops, leaving him drenched to the bone and extremely cold in a very short amount of time. “Idiot, idiot, idiot,” he chants, either as a spell, a lamentation, or a rap song, as none of his efforts to steer the boat back to the coast cause minimal effect.
One thing Kyungsoo is sure about the sea: it is sentient, and it wants to fuck him up. The more he works in the steering wheel, small arms almost falling off from the inhuman effort, the stronger the waves get. He can’t rely on his feet anymore, slipping and twisting with the gravity variation, and he wonders how long that will last, how much longer until his arms give in and let him plunge into the angry ocean.
Answer is: no much longer. As Kyungsoo grits his teeth and gives the wheel one last jolt, using all of his strenght, the sea says ‘fuck it’ and flips Kyungsoo’s boat upside down. It clearly gives no fucks. As his exhausted body sinks into the furious water, Kyungsoo promises that, if he survives, he’s going vegan and never even looking at the sea again. Fool me twice... Kyungsoo loses conscience.
In the second part of this tale, Kyungsoo wakes up with something cold and slimy all over his face, but, luckily enough, it’s not the eventual touch of death. It startles him as if it were, though, and he flails for a very brief second before his body computes the amount of salty water in his lungs and starts expelling it all rather inelegantly. He coughs and splutters and snorts it out, turning onto his stomach to make it a bit easier for it all to come out, arms and legs wobbling like jelly as he fails to get on all fours. It takes him a while to get everything out, and, by then, the cold slimy feeling is gone from his face...
… and is instead nudging his butt as a voice says, “Hello...?”
Kyungsoo turns around too quick, falling on his butt on a puddle of his own salty vomit. He’s almost feeling humiliated when he sees the life form that’s talking to him; then, there’s no room for any other feelings but surprise, shock, and a dash of horror.
Kyungsoo has his eyes on a mermaid.
Merman?
Octoman...?
It’s just like a mermaid, but it’s a dude, and instead of a fish tail, it has an octopus... or squid? … ‘tail’, per se. Tentacles. Just, tentacles. Also, the thing doesn’t look like it would sing to Kyungsoo to lure him into the sea, so...
“Uh...” The octoman mutters hesitantly, wide eyes meeting Kyungsoo’s own wide eyes. “Are... you... okay? Like...”
Kyungsoo blinks. “I’m alive,” he deadpans.
The octoman laughs. “That’s right. Well, that’s good? I guess,” he nods, and gets closer, oh god, it moves just like you’d think an octoman does, squirmily but surprisingly fast. “You need a lift or something? Can you walk? My name is Chanyeol, by the way.”
Kyungsoo blinks once again, trying to get on his feet by himself. It’s an homeric effort. He almost falls back down at a moment, but one of Chanyeol’s tentacles shoots forward to hold him in place. “Thank you,” Kyungsoo mutters, the slimy and cold touch around his waist making him a bit uncomfortable. “I’m Do Kyungsoo. I’m a fisher.”
“Ooh. Well, that explains the boat. Sorry about the boat, by the way, it’s totaled,” Chanyeol makes a face. “I tried to get it back without damaging it too much when I saw it, because I presumed it was yours, but... yeah, so much for that.”
“It’s okay,” Kyungsoo assures him, only now noticing that his clothes are still drenched, and that, since it’s nighttime and he’s by the seaside, he’s inviting a pneumonia in at the time. “I’m alive. That’s good enough.”
Chanyeol shrugs, as if he didn’t think that was good enough. Then, he takes a good look at Kyungsoo - small, exhausted, trembling Kyungsoo - and asks once again, “are you sure you don’t want a lift?”
Kyungsoo lives atop of a cliff. He doesn’t know how an octoman would give him a lift from the beach to the top of a rocky cliff, but he’s pretty sure he has lived through enough strong emotions in one day. “I’ll pass. But thank you for offering.” He smiles, and then bows politely. “I should leave now. Thank you for saving my life.”
“You’re welcome!” Chanyeol bows back, clearly just mimicking Kyungsoo’s own bow. “Since you’re a fisher, we should see each other around. Maybe when you get another boat or something? Or if you come to swim or something,” the octoman shrugs. “Anyway, I should get going. Bye!”
Chanyeol dexterously squirms away, into the sea, not even turning his back to Kyungsoo. What an strange, hypnotizing sight. It’s only when Chanyeol can no longer be seen in the dull darkness of the sea that Kyungsoo gathers himself and gets going, gearing himself to a long, long climb up to where his house is.
One step, two steps. He trips and falls down face-first, sand invading his eyes and mouth.
Humiliation.
In the third part of this tale, Kyungsoo is... tormented. It might be an startling change of pace, from life-threatening to mythical-absurd to now this, but what can I say? Kyungsoo is a lonely man.
Kyungsoo is lonely in more ways than one, lacking human contact in all possible levels. His parents are dead; he has no friends; he talks to no one, not even in the market, where people might talk to him, but he doesn’t have much to answer with; and, even after being alone for so long, sometimes having his own company isn’t enough.
Do you understand? Must I say anything else? So not to dishonor Kyungsoo with my unmeasured, perhaps crude even, words, I’ll let the narrative speak for itself.
Kyungsoo is taking a hot bath to defrost. By the time he arrived at his home, his teeth were clattering like clap shoes, and he could barely feel the tip of his fingers or the tip of his nose. So, first things first, he went in (the sun rises behind him), locked the front door, stripped, and got himself under the hot water.
After scrubbing and washing and scrubbing and washing, he’s letting himself soak for a while. The warm water soaps through his cold flesh, appeasing the white-hot pain starting to form bone-deep in his arms, and, as he relaxes, he starts thinking of the octoman.
Chanyeol, he had said.
What an strange creature.
What an strange creature...
…
A small bud of restlessness blossoms in Kyungsoo’s chest. When he falls asleep in his bed, later, when the sun is already high in the sky, the contents of his dreams are predictable.
Forgive me for being too elusive for the third part.
Regardless, we shall move on.
In the fourth part of this tale, Kyungsoo, despite his own promises at the occasion of his drowning, goes down to the beach.
The sun is scorching hot above his head, forcing him to look like a lost tourist with his big summer hat and sunglasses. His skin is unfortunately pale, and he knows better than to forgo protection, but he does look silly, in his shorts and old tee but with that giant hat on. Well, regardless... today, the sea is tranquil, few, small waves rolling to the shore, the waters tinted with a beautiful shade of blue. The pebbles roll and clack under Kyungsoo’s sandals as he walks along the shoreline, observing the tall menhirs that reach for the sky in the shallower part of the sea, and wonders what would’ve happened if he had hit one of those when the storm happened. It wouldn’t have been pretty. Maybe the ocean does care, a little bit.
Kyungsoo walks into the sea a little bit. The water covers his feet, warm and transparent, inviting. He does know how to swim; even despite the recent trauma, he could, he could swim a little right now, couldn’t he? The water is calm. If he stays in the area before the menhirs, it’ll be okay. (Is that the sea talking to him?) Seriously though, he can’t stay away from the sea forever. He’s a goddamn fisherman.
The decision is made. Kyungsoo takes off his hat, sunglasses, sandals, and shirt, bundling them all up and leaving them on the sand. His foot is massaged by the pebbles as he goes in, slowly, step by step. By the time the water is knee-level to him, he starts swimming.
The water is so good, ah. It’s warm, but fresh, pleasant for hot sunny days like this one. Kyungsoo swims leisurely, turning his belly up to the sky, admiring the blue, cloudless sky...
In the fifth part of this tale, Kyungsoo wakes up. What he thought had been merely a blink had actually been several hours of sleep, and, when he wakes up from it, the sky is dark with the last colors of the sunset.
Kyungsoo immediately straightens up, and almost suffers from an aneurism when his feet miss the seabed. In the distance, he sees the shoreline. In the very distance. The menhirs look so small from there.
Jesus fucking Christ, not again, Kyungsoo thinks in despair as he starts swimming for the beach, but the currents pull him further into open sea. He truly should’ve kept his promise. Once again, it’s all his fault. As a fisherman, who’s supposed to be in tune with the water, Kyungsoo is a shame.
Just when he’s thinking that his situation couldn’t get worse, something grabs his leg. “GRAAAHLAHALSHAGH,” he gurgles, salt water invading his mouth and years of juvenile nightmares involving sharks, jellyfishes, and sentient algae come alive. What a truly horrible death.
“You seem to get in an awful lot of trouble,” a voice says from unexpectedly near.
Kyungsoo manages to calm down, acquiring the momentarily stability his body requires to turn his head. He turns. And he sees: it’s the octoman!!
“You!!” He screams, in simmultaneous horror, surprise, and relief. “You-octoman!!-what’s your name again?!”
“Hey! That’s rude!” Octoman complains, and the thing around Kyungsoo’s leg lets go; it had been one of his tentacles, apparently. “Octoman! That sounds ridiculous! My name is Chanyeol!”
“Chanyeol-I am so sorry, I’m,” Kyungsoo is getting tired of swimming. Yes, he does know how to swim, but he’s not stellar at it, and soon it’ll be too dark for him to swim around. “Please help me? I’m in a pinch right now.”
“So I notice,” Chanyeol observes, looking around. “What are you doing around here without your boat? Don’t you know that there are sharks around here?”
“Sharks!” Kyungsoo yelps in terror. How could he forget? The water had been warm! They could’ve easily swam this close to the shore! “Chanyeol, please, please help me. I’ll do anything for you if you help me. Please.”
“Hm,” Chanyeol rises an eyebrow, and glances distractedly at the sky, as if thinking. Kyungsoo is terrified. “Anything?” Kyungsoo nods. “Promise?”
“Promise. Swear on my life,” Kyungsoo assures, and Chanyeol looks satisfied. “Please help me to swim back.”
“Sure thing. Climb on my back,” Chanyeol invites, smiling widely at him. Kyungsoo does as told, arms tight across Chanyeol’s tanned chest, legs tight around Chanyeol’s slim waist. “Well, I was gonna do it anyway, but since you promissed...”
Kyungsoo doesn’t have the strength to argue, discuss, or simply reply. He just stays there, holding on tightly as Chanyeol shoots his squirmy body towards the beach at top speed.
You can still consider this as the fifth part, if you may. They arrive at the shore.
“Thank you,” Kyungsoo mumbles as he topples over the pebbles, pretty much rolling towards the sand of the safe, dry shore. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Chanyeol stands up straight, chest puffed with pride. “So, about your promise...”
“Yes,” Kyungsoo pants, barely turning his head to look at Chanyeol, just laying there on the sand, body limp. “Anything. I’ll do anything.” Anything...
“Very well then. I want to... visit your house!” He announces it as if it were the most absurd thing he could probably ask. “How’s that? You promised.”
“That’s okay for me,” Kyungsoo assures, having expected things much worse, like a lost treasure, or, you know, stuff. “But why? Also, do you know where my house is?”
“There?” Chanyeol points at the only cliff nearby, atop of which Kyungsoo’s house lay, not much on the inconspicuous side. Hm. An unexpectedly easy guess. “And I want to because humans are always going down to where I live but none of my kin gets into a human’s house unless they’re dead. Unfair, right?”
“Right,” Kyungsoo nods.
“So, you have to let me in.” Chanyeol declares cheekily. After a pause, though, he makes an apologetic face. “I’ll probably get your stuff wet. Sorry.”
“No problem,” Kyungsoo assures him with a hand gesture. “You can raid my bathtub. I don’t mind.”
Chanyeol gasps. “A bathtub!” he screams excitedly, and Kyungsoo, who’s just regaining his forces and sitting up, fails to see what’s so exciting about a bathtub, but snickers to himself at the octoman’s excitement. “Next time the water gets closer to the land I’ll go up to your house. And you’ll let me in. Deal?”
“Deal,” Kyungsoo affirms, offering his pinky finger for a pinky promise or something. It seems like octopeople have a custom similar to it, but, instead of offering a pinky, Chanyeol latches the base of a tentacle to Kyungsoo’s neck, and the suction cup almost tears Kyungsoo’s flesh off.
“Ouch!” Kyungsoo screams.
“Sealed! No backing out!” Chanyeol yells ominously as he squirms back into the ocean. “See you, Kyungsoo!”
When he gets home that night, Kyungsoo sees himself in his bathroom’s mirror, and sees a dark, dark purple bruise on his neck, perfectly circular. He touches it with the very tip of his fingers, and it doesn’t hurt, but the wince he makes echoes quietly against the tiles.
In the sixth part of this tale, it’s raining cats and dogs, and the tide is the highest of the past three years. Therefore, it’s understandable that Kyungsoo is a bit on edge since morning, tidying everything up, checking his fridge for food, cleaning the bathroom, preparing some salt water for the case Chanyeol’s tentacles get too dry... et cetera. He can’t be sure if Chanyeol will come today, but Chanyeol’s words had been the closest to an appointment that he’d get, so he might as well get ready for it...
Kyungsoo is watching the storm from his front window, admiring the distant, turbulent gray sea and the tall waves that crash against the rock, when he notices something. There’s something wrong with the very tip of the cliff, something is moving there. Oh God, the cliff isn’t about to crash, is it? The probability of Kyungsoo’s home being swallowed by the ocean in case the cliff breaks down is of eighty-five percent, a probability too high for him to be taking any risks. He stays calm for now, watching, but mentally prepares for a possible flight should things get dire.
However, the more he watches the movement, hard to distinguish as anything thanks to the haze of the heavy rain, the less it looks like the cliff collapsing, and the more it looks like... something... moving towards the house. Maybe it’s Chanyeol! But wait a minute. If it really is Chanyeol, how did he get up there? Did he climb the tall, steep rocky wall of the cliff, which at some points registers a negative-degree inclination? That must’ve been... quite the task...
The form gets closer, and it is, indeed, Chanyeol. Kyungsoo opens the door to welcome him, and regrets it a little, because the rain hits him full-frontally and he gets wet pretty much immediately.
“Hello!!” Chanyeol greets as he finally arrives, tentacles squeaking on the moist grass. “The weather, huh? You don’t look too happy.”
“I’m not a fan of rain,” Kyungsoo admits, despite himself. “Come in. I have salt water inside, for the case you get too dry.”
“That’s so nice of you!” Chanyeol exclaims, squirming his way in. As expected, he leaves a faint trail of slime on the wooden floor, but Kyungsoo doesn’t mind. It’s been a while since he’s had an acquaintance over. “Oooh man this is so nice. Look at this! I’m in a human’s house!”
“It’s not much,” Kyungsoo dismisses, aware that his home is stark naked in the inside, lacking any decorations appart from the old fishing gear displayed as trophies on one of the walls. “Should I get you anything to eat? … Do you eat fish, or is it cannibalism?” Kyungsoo is aware he might’ve been a bit too straightforward, but hey, he needs to know.
“Well, it is cannibalism, but sharks are cannibals,” Chanyeol shrugs. “Fish is good. Also. Bathtub.”
In the seventh part of this tale, they eat a meal in a bathtub. It’s surprisingly comfortable, after they go through the initial struggle of filling the tub with all the salt water Kyungsoo had prepared, and after Kyungsoo finds space for himself, somewhat cradled above the surface by Chanyeol’s tentacles.
“I’m probably too heavy,” Kyungsoo had said when Chanyeol first offered him support, and Chanyeol had scoffed at him.
“Oh, please, you weigh naught,” Chanyeol had dismissed, eating fish and algae rolls. “Also, do you know how strong those are? Don’t sweat.”
Well, they did feel strong under Kyungsoo’s back and buttocks, muscle-y and firm to the touch...
They talk about all the things an human and a mer-human have to talk about - which is a lot of things. The different society dynamics, housing dynamics, feeding dynamics...
“You know, one thing I don’t understand about humans,” Chanyeol starts off in a loud voice as he finishes off the lastof his improvised fish-and-algae dumplings, “is this.”
Kyungsoo waits for some kind of punchline - and yelps when it comes as a tentacle lifting his shirt. “Hey!!” he shouts, pulling the shirt back down, blushing and laughing in embarrassment. “What are you doing?!”
“See? I don’t get it!” Chanyeol looks truly exasperated. “Why do you wear so many accessories? Why don’t you take them off?”
“These aren’t accessories, these are clothes!” Kyungsoo protests, feeling hot all over. He’s sure that even his thighs are blushing.
“What’s the difference!” Chanyeol flails. “It’s not like you need them to survive! See, I don’t wear any! And I am closely related to humans, in a way,” he adds, seeming to immerse in an intense reflection over that fact as Kyungsoo notices, quite bashfully, that Chanyeol, indeed, does not wear any clothes.”
“It’s different,” Kyungsoo protests weakly. “We need them to cover our genitals. They’re not retractile and would be exposed to danger if we didn’t hide them artificially.”
Chanyeol’s jaw drop. Kyungsoo is red all over. He himself can’t believe in how full of shit that explanation just was. “Are you serious?” Chanyeol’s eyes are wide. Kyungsoo is already putting together some kind of dismissive sentence in his head. “They’re... just... out there?”
Kyungsoo pauses. “Oh?” Ah, he’s talking about... “Oh! Uh... in a way? Like, not out there out there but...”
“If you take your clothes off, it pops out?” Chanyeol tries to fill in the blanks, but all he gets is surprised, mortally embarrassed laughter from Kyungsoo. “I’m just trying to learn! Can I take your clothes off?”
“I!! You sure are shameless!” Kyungsoo explodes in outrage, and, half-drunk in laughter, he realizes that his unfortunately restless heart does not oppose to that. “Fine. But I won’t move at all.”
Chanyeol scoffs. “Oh, that’s a bummer. It’s not like I can lift you or anything, right?” Chanyeol mocks at the same time four of his tentacles grab Kyungsoo’s limbs and lift him in the air. Kyungsoo gasps, both in startle and in another type of startle, as the suction cups attach to the creamy flesh of his thighs a bit painfully. “Now, let’s see...”
When Chanyeol grabs Kyungsoo’s shirt once again, it’s with his own human hands, finger grasping the damp cotton with curiosity. He frowns, looking at where his own tentacles hold Kyungsoo’s arms, calculating. “How should I do this...”
“Please don’t destroy my clothes,” Kyungsoo pleads, opposing remarkably little to this situation. “I don’t have many.”
“Destroying them would defeat the purpose of all this! It’s the challenge that matters!” Chanyeol is a nerd. A mernerd. Octonerd. Truly fascinating. “Okay, so I’ll do this...”
He lets go of one of Kyungsoo’s arms at the same time he lifts the shirt with his hand; soon, the recently freed tentacle wraps around Kyungsoo’s torso, slimy and cold and oh. Kyungsoo might be feeling too much. Meanwhile, the other tentacle unwraps from Kyungsoo’s other arm, and extends to hold both of his arms up by supporting them gently. “Ha!” He yelps, and sucessfully removes a limp Kyungsoo’s shirt. “How’s that?”
“Good,” Kyungsoo approves. “You did well. Very smart.”
“Your nipples are funny looking,” Chanyeol giggles, putting a suction cup over one of said nipples. He presses. And then pulls, with a loud wet sound, and Kyungsoo howls.
“Don’t do that again,” he pleads, limbs wobbly, heart racing.
“Okay, sorry,” Chanyeol simply says, moving onto The Pants Puzzle, and Kyungsoo feels a bit sad that he didn’t insist. “So now, this...”
“It has more underneath,” Kyungsoo warns, and he has no idea why he just said that, but well.
“You tell me! Why all of this!” Chanyeol flails once again, frustrated. Salt water sprinkles the bathroom walls. “Well, anyway... this should be easy now...”
He uses the same technique he used for the shirt; lets go of one leg, supports through waist, keeps legs straight but without holding, and pulls. During the entire time he maneuvers Kyungsoo, he has a fascinated, excited glint in his eyes, and Kyungsoo gives up on shame and starts thinking of a good way to ask Chanyeol to go further once he’s done with the clothes.
“So it does have more underneath. Oh?” Chanyeol has his pants down, a tentacle pulling them off and tossing them aside absentmindedly, but his eyes are on Kyungsoo’s crotch. Kyungsoo’s black boxers are still on, but what catches Chanyeol’s attention is... “Is this it? The genital?”
Kyungsoo groans, face tinted in red. “So you don’t have one.”
“I do! But it’s different,” Chanyeol defends, and, to Kyungsoo’s absolute distress, cups the bulge of his erection with his hands. “It’s, well, drier. And harder. To be honest, it’s completely different.”
“Don’t-” Kyungsoo’s breath hitches as Chanyeol toys with the bulge, still analyzing. “Don’t touch it like that.”
Chanyeol stops immediately. “Sorry. Does it hurt?”
“No,” Kyungsoo admits, wanting desperately for Chanyeol to just understand. “It, uh. Through tactile stimulus of the genitals, you get me ready for mating.” Where is Kyungsoo getting that shit from? Well, it’s still embarrassing to say it like that, but at least it sounds professional...
“Ooooooooh,” Chanyeol is fascinated. Does that mean he’s gonna go on? “But like, should I stop? It doesn’t bother me. Does it bother you?” His eyes are so round. And so dark. And just so. So. Kyungsoo sighs.
“Just wanted to let you know.” And it’s all he says.
And it comes as a relief to him, to me, and to you, reader, that Chanyeol understands him. He understands, nodding solemnly, and declaring: “I’ll go on then.” And he goes on, and Kyungsoo gasps when Chanyeol massages his hardening penis once again - this time, with one of his tentacles.
“God,” Kyungsoo moans, unbelievably strung. Chanyeol looks up when he moans, eyes drinking up every single detail, making Kyungsoo feel terribly - deliciously - exposed.
“I should conduct further research,” Chanyeol mutters to himself, and it might be an illusion, but his voice sounds a little bit higher when he says that.
With little effort and recently acquired practice, Chanyeol strips Kyungsoo of his underwear, leaving the human stark naked, covered in sweat, held up high by strong, but soft to the touch, tentacles. Kyungsoo has butterflies in his stomach, anticipating what comes next. Whatever it is, whatever it might be - he looks forward to it.
“Mind if I...?” Chanyeol asks, fingers suggestively dipping between Kyungsoo’s buttocks. Kyungsoo stops breathing for a moment, as he nods in consent and Chanyeol spreads them apart. His fingers are cool against the heated flesh... “Ooh. Is this an opening?” He asks, poking at Kyungsoo’s anus with his cool, cool fingers. “It seems to be. What for? Excretion? Reproduction?”
Kyungsoo laughs. “Are you a biologist? You know so much.”
“I’ve been to some wrecked ships,” Chanyeol states proudly. “So?”
“Excretion, mainly,” Kyungsoo answers. “But it has many utilities.”
Chanyeol frowns. “Like, for example...?”
Kyungsoo sighs. “Recreation.” Kyungsoo should know. His own fingers should know. A lot of miscellanic objects around his home do know...
“Huh...” it seems to be a new concept to Chanyeol. He pokes around for a while, tracing the rim with the very tip of his fingers and watching it flutter, until he brings a tentacle to it and Kyungsoo chokes on his own heartbeat.
“Aah... careful...” he pleads as the tentacle squirms against his hole, teasing it, and the slime, God, the slime is driving Kyungsoo crazy. “Please take care... the muscle...”
“Don’t worry. I’ll watch it,” Chanyeol promises, eyes fixed on Kyungsoo’s bottom, cheeks oddly rosy... “Tell me if it hurts, though.”
Kyungsoo nods, silently agreeing. Then, the tentacle pushes in.
“Fuck,” Kyungsoo breathes out, feeling the stretch, the easy slide of the shaft inside of him. “Fuck, fuck.”
It’s, obviously, unlike anything else. The tentacle slides in and out with unseen ease, one that, no matter how much lube Kyungsoo has used in the past, he had never been able to achieve. He feels a dull sensation of fullness as it slides in and in and in and it goes so deep that Kyungsoo can’t even moan, voice shaking from the sensation.
“This is amazing,” he hears Chanyeol note, and vaguely registers Chanyeol’s eyes on his cock. “It got up.”
“Yeah,” Kyungsoo gasps, and he wants to explain, but he can’t. He can’t, at the moment. “Mmmyeah, oh.”
He’s in a complete daze. The whole new world of being fucked by tentacles has possibly spoiled him for life, giving him pleasure like he has never experienced before, and he was just thinking that it couldn’t possibly get better when a tentacle got a grip of his cock. He literally screamed.
“FuckFUCK,” he screamed, and screamed more when the tentacle let go, “no, no, no don’t stop please don’t stop-”
“I thought you were in pain,” Chanyeol justifies in an apologetic tone, and the tentacle finds it way around Kyungsoo’s cock once again. While it pumps gently, sending Kyungsoo into momentarily overdrive, Chanyeol traces the purple circular bruise previously left around Kyungsoo’s nipple, and remarks: “So this is what you meant when you said you’d be ready for mating.”
Kyungsoo nods, eyes half-lidded. “Does your kin do this?” He finds it in himself to ask when his eyes meet Chanyeol’s own. “Sex for pleasure.”
Chanyeol’s eyes are glinting, his pupils dilated. His mouth is limply open, and his lips look plump, and pink, and wet... “Not really,” he answers, licking his lips as one of his tentacles lies across Kyungsoo’s chest. “But we should.” Press. And then, pull.
“Oh God,” the pain he feels is secretly made of enjoyment, because, secret to no one who knew him (which means, himself), Kyungsoo is a closeted masochist. He usually avoids pain at all costs, but, in cases like this... “This feels good, this feels so good...”
Chanyeol does it again. The sound of the suction cups letting go is obscene. When he tries something new and lets it suck the flesh of Kyungsoo’s navel, Kyungsoo’s entire body quivers, and Chanyeol’s breath hitches visibly.
“This is nice,” he comments vaguely, his tentacles starting to explore Kyungsoo’s whole body more. The tentacle that’s fucking Kyungsoo starts to move at a tortuously slow pace, as has the tentacle on his cock, and it all makes Kyungsoo feel desperate for more, just more.
So, when the tip of a tentacle caresses his cheek, he goes for it. He turns his head and gives it a lick. And the sound of Chanyeol’s breath halting still...
Kyungsoo doesn’t stop. With movements of his head and tongue, he persuades the tentacle to lower the tip to his lips, and his thighs quiver as he readies himself because my, oh my, what a slut he is. When he’s ready, he wraps his lips around the rounded end of the tentacle, tasting salt, and starts to suck.
“Oh,” Chanyeol sighs, mysteriously getting the message and pushing the tentacle further into his mouth. Kyungsoo doesn’t want to just suck - he wants to choke, so he keeps sucking, keeps inviting him further in... “Ooh.”
The tentacle fucking his ass mysteriously quickens its pace.
When Chanyeol finally throatfucks Kyungsoo, tentacle going down so deep that it feels like he’s just swallowing food, Kyungsoo thinks he might be about to come. There are tentacles across his chest, leaving hickey over hickey over hickey, and two tentacles on his dick, one caressing the base and other pumping at the tip, and one so deep into his ass and stretching him so good that he can barely think straight... he’s in heaven. He’s in tentacle heaven.
“Okay, so, listen,” and then, Chanyeol suddenly brings him down, removing the tentacles from his mouth, cock, and ass. Kyungsoo heaves. He’s so close, he’s about to cry at the loss, he needs to- “So, like, can I try something? I’m really not gonna hurt you or anything, but,” Chanyeol interrupts himself and licks his lips, expectant. It’s quite obvious that he’s turned on. It’s visible how turned on he is.
“Fuck me?” Kyungsoo deadpans, and Chanyeol’s eyes widen. “Please tell me you’re gonna fuck me or I’ll scream at you.”
“No! I mean, yes! But like,” Chanyeol justifies. “I want to, but it could be dangerous, because... uh, it’s, like...” he points at his waist; the very base of it, where, supposedly, his absurdly long tentacles find a joint. “Down there...”
Kyungsoo is suddenly curious. Insanely curious.
“Let me see. Can you show me?” He pleads, looking straight into Chanyeol’s eyes with what could be called a maddened gaze. Chanyeol sputters.
“Uh, well. Only fair, I guess,” he mutters to himself.
What Kyungsoo sees next is a very strange thing. It’s like a ninth tentacle emerging from, possibly, inside Chanyeol, but it’s... different. It’s paler in color than the others, and completely lacks suction cups, for starters. Then, it has a small opening on the tip; probably, Kyungsoo concludes, for ejaculation...
“How much sperm do you expel per mating?” Kyungsoo is very professional out of nowhere. Chanyeol spurts again.
“I... never measured...?”
Kyungsoo needs to know.
“Fuck me,” he commands. “I’m ready.”
Chanyeol does question the order.
Their configuration changes a bit. Chanyeol now holds Kyungsoo up like he initially did; one tentacle around each limb, and one around the waist, for support. Kyungsoo’s legs are spread wide; his hole, lubed up by octoslime, and clenching for attention. Once again, he’s all anticipation. Anticipation and kinks.
“Again,” Chanyeol insists as his genital tentacle, as Kyungsoo has chosen to call it in his mind, emerges once again. “Tell me if it hurts.” And he goes in.
It slides in with supernatural ease, like the first one has, and Kyungsoo realizes immediately that it’s not enough. This is not enough. He needs more.
“Another.” His voice is feeble.
Chanyeol blinks. “What?”
“Another,” Kyungsoo insists with a whine, breathing in deep, heavy pants. “Put another in. I need more.”
The octoman is completely speechless. His face is red like blood. “I... okay,” he breathes out, and one of his free tentacles pokes at the entrance. The excitement threatens to kill Kyungsoo.
Chanyeol stretches him slow, carefully, and it’s very sweet of him, Kyungsoo notices in his sexual haze. He really should stay friends with Chanyeol after this. He really should. He also should fuck Chanyeol more often after this, too, because the sensation the fills him once the second tentacle is in is otherwordly. Completely otherwordly.
“Yes,” he moans, biting his lip lewdly as the tentacle eases his way in. “Yes, yes, this, please, oh,” the seventh tentacle finds his cock, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes in bliss.
It seems, however, that Chanyeol is losing his self-control bit by bit. It doesn’t escape Kyungsoo that he fucks him a tiny bit faster this time, alternating the tentacles in and out, in and out, and the one he has toying with Kyungsoo’s penis is a bit more... playful.
“Harder?” Chanyeol asks, and it comes as a surprise to Kyungsoo. He, however, knows what he wants.
“Harder,” he agrees, offering Chanyeol a dazed, pleased smile. “As hard as you can.”
Chanyeol surprises him when he lifts Kyungsoo up from the waist, and downright slams him back down onto the shafts.
“Yes!” Kyungsoo screams in ecstasy, his insides burning with sheer satisfacion. “Yes, this, Chanyeol-”
He does it again. And again. And again, and again, and again, and again, and he soon is fucking Kyungsoo at piston speed, the tentacle around Kyungsoo’s cock now holding instead of teasing. At some point, his eight tentacle at last finds Kyungsoo’s mouth, and he justs inserts it there and lets gravity do the job for him.
“Fuck,” Chanyeol mutters as his eyes swim, threatening to close as his arms twitch in obvious pleasure. “Fuck, this is really good.”
Kyungsoo hums loudly in agreement, and Chanyeol stills him, suddenly starting to fuck him slow, nice and slow, sliding in and out gently. “Chanyeol!!” Kyungsoo protests as the tentacle momentarily leaves his mouth in order to trace his lips sensuously. It feels good, but... “What?”
“I’m gonna make you come,” Chanyeol says in a low, lazy voice, and oh, oh that was kind of hot. “I need to watch. So stay still.”
The tentacles gradually gain speed. They pump in and out Kyungsoo’s ass, wildly, stretching, and, when one of the tentacles that had been holding his arms up lets it go in order to try to breach into his ass as well, he loses it.
“I’m gonna-I’m gonna come, please, I’m,” he begs and sobs, and writhes, the sensations too powerful, the tentacle around his cock finally letting go in order to tease the head, as if urging him, come then, come, come for me. And it’s all he needs. “Aaahfhfuck I’m-”
Thick ropes of sperm shoot out of his cock, violently so even, as his entire body trembles and his mouth runs with expletives and profanities. Chanyeol’s tentacles don’t slow down, or go any shallower; they ride him through the orgasm, magnifying every sensation.
Tentacle heaven, Kyungsoo repeats in his head over and over again as he comes, and he’s so glad to be able to cross that particular kink out of his kink list that he takes particularly long to come down from his high.
When he does come down, though, he feels, at the same time, sore and completely relaxed. Chanyeol is laying limp in the bathtub, breathing slowly, tentacles dangling out as if dead. Only five of them stay up; the four that are still holding Kyungsoo in the air, now trembling with the effort; and the genital tentacle, staying still inside of Kyungsoo’s ass.
“You can let me down,” Kyungsoo suggests, and Chanyeol directs him a lazy glance. “I know I’m heavy.”
Chanyeol laughs breathily, voice hoarse. “You weigh naught, I told you.” But he does let him down, gently, back onto the bathtub, close enough to his own body that Kyungsoo looks like he’s sitting on Chanyeol’s lap.
The genital inside him is puzzling. “Why is it still inside?” Kyungsoo asks, leaning against the tub’s wall for support, and he hopes Chanyeol understands because he doesn’t want to explain.
“Just a minute,” Chanyeol asks, and Kyungsoo concedes. He waits. A few seconds pass, and then, without a word, Chanyeol slides the tentacle out. It’s dripping, Kyungsoo notices. “I’m sorry. It was... I was... you know...”
“You came inside me? That’s some nerve,” Kyungsoo feigns an objection, but it’s futile. He’s laughing.
He then takes a look at their surroundings. He sees the wet bathroom floor, the cum on the walls, the even bigger amount of cum floating in the bath water... what a magnificent mess they’re immersed in, huh...
In the eight and final part of this tale, they clean up the bathroom, and take a proper bath this time. Chanyeol reacts a bit badly to the soap, so he waits outside, a spritzer of salt water in his hands, as Kyungsoo cleans himself up and changes into a nice, clean, dry change of clothes.
“It was fun today,” Chanyeol comments bashfully when it’s, at last, time to go. Night has fallen, the rain has stopped, and it has started to look a bit too dry on land for him to stay any longer. “Go meet me when you get your boat back, right?”
“I’ll meet you even if I don’t have my boat back, apparently,” Kyungsoo jokes, referring to their most recent incident. Chanyeol laughs a bit hesitantly, scratching his nape.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he says. Kyungsoo frowns.
“Why are you taking the blame?” he asks a bit suspiciously. “I almost drowned. You saved me.”
“Yeah, but... well, nevermind.” Future Kyungsoo will look back into this incident and not really blame Chanyeol for not telling. After all, it’s hard to explain a thing that involves an old myth, a giant body of water, and a voice that’s not really there but is, in a way. “See you around, then?”
“See you around,” Kyungsoo replies, and it sounds a bit... flirtatious. He wonders if Chanyeol notices. “Be careful on your way back.”
“Sure thing,” Chanyeol assures him, and starts squirming away, advancing clumsily but quickly through the dry ground. Kyungsoo only leaves the doorway when Chanyeol is gone from his sight, the last squirmy tentacle disappearing under the rocks of the cliff.
That night, Kyungsoo goes to sleep with thoughts of his First Ever Friend, mind-blowingly awesome sex, and a set of hard-to-explain hickeys that mark his torso all over. He hopes the market people don’t notice. It’d be a hell of a fish story to tell.