Fic: mermaid!Tazer AU (1/?)
Kaner/Tazer WIP ahead! Read at your own risk :P
Summary: In which Tazer is a merman (call him a mermaid and he will cut you), Kaner lacks self-preservation, and Kaner's sisters are the root of all evil. This is how a couple abnormally-athletic boys spend a summer on-or below-Lake Erie.
Tazer's swimming home from polo practice when-
“Ow!”
-he gets kicked in the face.
Somersaulting back, Tazer cradles his jaw as he beholds the scurf of bubbles and distorted yelling. There appears to be a human drowning before him.
Ugh, Tazer thinks, tailfin idly swiping side-to-side. The last thing he needs is a dead body decomposing in his backyard. The weeds are getting unruly enough without fresh fertilizer.
With a put-upon sigh, Tazer swims under the human and catches an arm around his waist, then pushes off for the surface. The human’s limbs trail like jellyfish tentacles, creating drag so that Tazer has to tighten his grip to keep him in place. Glancing down, he notices the human has stopped breathing, oxygen no longer streaming from his nose and mouth.
God, humans are so fucking fragile.
Tazer puts on a burst of speed.
They break the surface with a noisy splash, Tazer’s gills automatically sealing against his neck as he takes a deep, open-mouthed breath, lungs expanding. As for the human, he tips back in Tazer’s arms, eyes rolling white.
Tazer briefly considers leaving him in T.J.'s waters for shits and giggles, because T.J.’s an asshole who threw up in Tazer’s hair last weekend during post-game celebrations. But then the human twitches against Tazer’s chest, making a pathetic, burbling noise, and Tazer supposes he’s come this far enough already.
The shoreline is barely a mile away, and as he swims up to it a cursory scan ensures they’re alone. It’s after dark, which-why was this idiot even in the water? But at least nobody’s around to see Tazer haul himself ashore, tail pushing against the lapping waves as he dumps the dead weight in his arms onto wet sand.
“Hey,” he says, shoving at the dude’s shoulder to make him roll onto his back. There’s kelp in the idiot’s curly, bedraggled hair. Tazer picks it out. “Dude. Are you dead?”
The human looks ghostly pale and he isn’t breathing. But when Tazer listens the guy’s chest, there’s a steady heartbeat, if slow.
Last year Coach Hakstol had all the Fighting Sioux take a course in first aid, so Tazer knows how to perform CPR. Even if the team did spend most of that lesson pretending to make out with the creepy arm-less, tail-less dummies instead of actual like, learning. But Tazer’s captain so he paid attention like a captain should.
Recalling the motions, Tazer raises himself up and starts chest compressions-thirty quick, hard presses before tipping the human’s head back and putting his mouth over his, tasting salt. Claps his hands to the sides of the human’s neck, only to belatedly realize the human hasn’t got gills that need closing off. But Tazer keeps his hands there anyway as he breathes out, breathes out.
No response, so Tazer repeats the motions.
Does a third rep, and he’s beginning to think it’s a lost cause when, in the middle of resuscitation, the human makes a choking noise and spits up brackish water into Tazer’s mouth.
Tazer gags and punches him in the face. Grey-blue eyes shoot open, blinking up at Tazer, wide and surprised.
“What…” the human tries to shift up to his elbows, but Tazer plants a hand on his chest and pins him into the sand.
“You’re dreaming,” Tazer says as commandingly as he can because fuck, he can’t be seen. That breaks about every rule in the Aqua-Sapien Treaty of 1673 and Tazer isn’t about to get his ass turned to grass over some stupid human who sucks at self-preservation.
The human brushes his hand off. “What the fuck happened?” Blue eyes drift over Tazer’s shoulder. “Holy shit, are you a mermaid?”
“What?” Tazer splutters. A mermaid? “Do I look like I have tits to you?” Tazer shoves the human back into the sand and growls, “Anyway, you’re dreaming. So fuck you.”
Before the human can respond, Tazer flips back into Lake Erie and hurriedly dives below surface, fast as he can go.
-----
“I swear. It was a mermaid, for sure.”
“Were you drinking?” Jess asks.
“No,” Patrick scoffs, but Jess simply gives him a pointed look. God, she is such a little puke sometimes. “Fine, yes,” he amends, “but that is so not the point. I was drunk, not blind.”
Jess hums a bit, then goes back to clipping her toenails over a wastepaper basket. Patrick moves the pizza box away from her, adding, “Maybe if I didn’t have such an ungrateful little sister who never wants to hang out with her totally awesome brother, I wouldn’t have to spend my afternoons drowning in the lake.”
“Who’s drowning?” Erica asks, plopping herself next to Patrick on the couch. She flips up the top of the pizza carton. “Ooh, pepperoni.”
“I was drowning. Not that anyone cares,” Patrick shoves Jess in the side, which earns him a perfectly-manicured middle finger.
“Well, were you drinking?” Erica asks, pulling a slice from the box.
Patrick watches in horror as Erica folds her pizza in half and takes an enormous bite. If she ever wants to get a boyfriend-not that Patrick’s ever going to let that happen, but again, beside the point-she should really stop eating like a half-starved caveman.
“I wasn’t drunk,” Patrick belatedly protests. “I mean, I was. But like, not to the point where it mattered. Jesus.”
“He thinks he saw a mermaid,” Jess adds, still hunched over her toes. He thinks she’s picking out sock lint. His sisters, everyone.
“Cool, there are mermaids in Lake Erie? That’s awesome, Pat. You’ve totally discovered a new species of animal. You should be a marine biologist. Maybe they’ll give you a Pulitzer. Or would it be the Nobel? Is there a Jacques Cousteau Prize?”
Jess starts giggling, which derails Erica into similar noises, and seriously, Patrick’s had enough. “Screw you guys,” Patrick says, knocking the remote off the table. “I’m gonna go find Jackie. She’s my favorite.”
“Maybe you guys can go hang out with the mermaids!” Erica calls after him.
Patrick stomps into his room and slams the door shut. The Kaner bobble-head on his dresser nods at him sympathetically. Yeah, his sisters totally are the worst.
But still, they’re making him think twice. Heaving a sigh, Patrick flops onto his bed and laces his fingers behind his head.
Maybe it wasn’t a mermaid. Or like, mer-dude, whatever. The guy who saved him didn’t seem that happy about being called a chick.
Why would Patrick make this shit up? The fish guy was totally real. All he has to do now is verify that shit, and then we’ll see who’s laughing.
-----
There’s a human drowning right outside Tazer’s bedcave.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he mutters, rubbing his face awake as he drifts towards the commotion.
Maybe it’s his eyes, but he thinks it’s the same human from the night before. Tazer blinks hard, because that makes no sense whatsoever. What kind of shit-for-brains nearly drowns in a lake, then comes back to do it again the next morning?
His mom’s voice interrupts his incredulity. “What do you think?” she asks, floating over to hand him his morning protein shake. “Should I bring him up to the beach? It’s barely eight o’clock, should be pretty desolate above-water.”
“I got this one,” Tazer says resignedly. “It can stand in for my lap around the Caledonia. I need to work out my upstroke, anyway.”
“All right, dear. But don’t be too long. You have Optional Swim at ten.”
Tazer nods, then turns to the cloud of bubbles and golden hair he’s been tasked to save (again).
“Next time I am leaving your ass,” he says to him, even though the human obviously can’t hear. With a rough grab around his waist, Tazer hauls the kid over his shoulder and makes his way up towards the sun, tailfin pumping hard.
Next
Here, have a reference video of Kaner's sisters. Please ignore the terrifying growths on Kaner's face (I refuse to call that a beard) because they may give you nightmares.
Summary: In which Tazer is a merman (call him a mermaid and he will cut you), Kaner lacks self-preservation, and Kaner's sisters are the root of all evil. This is how a couple abnormally-athletic boys spend a summer on-or below-Lake Erie.
Tazer's swimming home from polo practice when-
“Ow!”
-he gets kicked in the face.
Somersaulting back, Tazer cradles his jaw as he beholds the scurf of bubbles and distorted yelling. There appears to be a human drowning before him.
Ugh, Tazer thinks, tailfin idly swiping side-to-side. The last thing he needs is a dead body decomposing in his backyard. The weeds are getting unruly enough without fresh fertilizer.
With a put-upon sigh, Tazer swims under the human and catches an arm around his waist, then pushes off for the surface. The human’s limbs trail like jellyfish tentacles, creating drag so that Tazer has to tighten his grip to keep him in place. Glancing down, he notices the human has stopped breathing, oxygen no longer streaming from his nose and mouth.
God, humans are so fucking fragile.
Tazer puts on a burst of speed.
They break the surface with a noisy splash, Tazer’s gills automatically sealing against his neck as he takes a deep, open-mouthed breath, lungs expanding. As for the human, he tips back in Tazer’s arms, eyes rolling white.
Tazer briefly considers leaving him in T.J.'s waters for shits and giggles, because T.J.’s an asshole who threw up in Tazer’s hair last weekend during post-game celebrations. But then the human twitches against Tazer’s chest, making a pathetic, burbling noise, and Tazer supposes he’s come this far enough already.
The shoreline is barely a mile away, and as he swims up to it a cursory scan ensures they’re alone. It’s after dark, which-why was this idiot even in the water? But at least nobody’s around to see Tazer haul himself ashore, tail pushing against the lapping waves as he dumps the dead weight in his arms onto wet sand.
“Hey,” he says, shoving at the dude’s shoulder to make him roll onto his back. There’s kelp in the idiot’s curly, bedraggled hair. Tazer picks it out. “Dude. Are you dead?”
The human looks ghostly pale and he isn’t breathing. But when Tazer listens the guy’s chest, there’s a steady heartbeat, if slow.
Last year Coach Hakstol had all the Fighting Sioux take a course in first aid, so Tazer knows how to perform CPR. Even if the team did spend most of that lesson pretending to make out with the creepy arm-less, tail-less dummies instead of actual like, learning. But Tazer’s captain so he paid attention like a captain should.
Recalling the motions, Tazer raises himself up and starts chest compressions-thirty quick, hard presses before tipping the human’s head back and putting his mouth over his, tasting salt. Claps his hands to the sides of the human’s neck, only to belatedly realize the human hasn’t got gills that need closing off. But Tazer keeps his hands there anyway as he breathes out, breathes out.
No response, so Tazer repeats the motions.
Does a third rep, and he’s beginning to think it’s a lost cause when, in the middle of resuscitation, the human makes a choking noise and spits up brackish water into Tazer’s mouth.
Tazer gags and punches him in the face. Grey-blue eyes shoot open, blinking up at Tazer, wide and surprised.
“What…” the human tries to shift up to his elbows, but Tazer plants a hand on his chest and pins him into the sand.
“You’re dreaming,” Tazer says as commandingly as he can because fuck, he can’t be seen. That breaks about every rule in the Aqua-Sapien Treaty of 1673 and Tazer isn’t about to get his ass turned to grass over some stupid human who sucks at self-preservation.
The human brushes his hand off. “What the fuck happened?” Blue eyes drift over Tazer’s shoulder. “Holy shit, are you a mermaid?”
“What?” Tazer splutters. A mermaid? “Do I look like I have tits to you?” Tazer shoves the human back into the sand and growls, “Anyway, you’re dreaming. So fuck you.”
Before the human can respond, Tazer flips back into Lake Erie and hurriedly dives below surface, fast as he can go.
-----
“I swear. It was a mermaid, for sure.”
“Were you drinking?” Jess asks.
“No,” Patrick scoffs, but Jess simply gives him a pointed look. God, she is such a little puke sometimes. “Fine, yes,” he amends, “but that is so not the point. I was drunk, not blind.”
Jess hums a bit, then goes back to clipping her toenails over a wastepaper basket. Patrick moves the pizza box away from her, adding, “Maybe if I didn’t have such an ungrateful little sister who never wants to hang out with her totally awesome brother, I wouldn’t have to spend my afternoons drowning in the lake.”
“Who’s drowning?” Erica asks, plopping herself next to Patrick on the couch. She flips up the top of the pizza carton. “Ooh, pepperoni.”
“I was drowning. Not that anyone cares,” Patrick shoves Jess in the side, which earns him a perfectly-manicured middle finger.
“Well, were you drinking?” Erica asks, pulling a slice from the box.
Patrick watches in horror as Erica folds her pizza in half and takes an enormous bite. If she ever wants to get a boyfriend-not that Patrick’s ever going to let that happen, but again, beside the point-she should really stop eating like a half-starved caveman.
“I wasn’t drunk,” Patrick belatedly protests. “I mean, I was. But like, not to the point where it mattered. Jesus.”
“He thinks he saw a mermaid,” Jess adds, still hunched over her toes. He thinks she’s picking out sock lint. His sisters, everyone.
“Cool, there are mermaids in Lake Erie? That’s awesome, Pat. You’ve totally discovered a new species of animal. You should be a marine biologist. Maybe they’ll give you a Pulitzer. Or would it be the Nobel? Is there a Jacques Cousteau Prize?”
Jess starts giggling, which derails Erica into similar noises, and seriously, Patrick’s had enough. “Screw you guys,” Patrick says, knocking the remote off the table. “I’m gonna go find Jackie. She’s my favorite.”
“Maybe you guys can go hang out with the mermaids!” Erica calls after him.
Patrick stomps into his room and slams the door shut. The Kaner bobble-head on his dresser nods at him sympathetically. Yeah, his sisters totally are the worst.
But still, they’re making him think twice. Heaving a sigh, Patrick flops onto his bed and laces his fingers behind his head.
Maybe it wasn’t a mermaid. Or like, mer-dude, whatever. The guy who saved him didn’t seem that happy about being called a chick.
Why would Patrick make this shit up? The fish guy was totally real. All he has to do now is verify that shit, and then we’ll see who’s laughing.
-----
There’s a human drowning right outside Tazer’s bedcave.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he mutters, rubbing his face awake as he drifts towards the commotion.
Maybe it’s his eyes, but he thinks it’s the same human from the night before. Tazer blinks hard, because that makes no sense whatsoever. What kind of shit-for-brains nearly drowns in a lake, then comes back to do it again the next morning?
His mom’s voice interrupts his incredulity. “What do you think?” she asks, floating over to hand him his morning protein shake. “Should I bring him up to the beach? It’s barely eight o’clock, should be pretty desolate above-water.”
“I got this one,” Tazer says resignedly. “It can stand in for my lap around the Caledonia. I need to work out my upstroke, anyway.”
“All right, dear. But don’t be too long. You have Optional Swim at ten.”
Tazer nods, then turns to the cloud of bubbles and golden hair he’s been tasked to save (again).
“Next time I am leaving your ass,” he says to him, even though the human obviously can’t hear. With a rough grab around his waist, Tazer hauls the kid over his shoulder and makes his way up towards the sun, tailfin pumping hard.
Next
Here, have a reference video of Kaner's sisters. Please ignore the terrifying growths on Kaner's face (I refuse to call that a beard) because they may give you nightmares.