When he leaned back, his eyes trailed over the way the merman's tail flicked behind him whenever he grinned at him or said any word enthusiastically, and although he knew Shiro didn't fully understand, he was still mirroring his excitement and that in itself made Keith's heart swell. It reminded him of a small puppy whenever games or food are involved, and it was endearing. He was so huge, so dangerous, yet there he was, moving rocks around and trying to know about him. A curious creature indeed. Once he looked down at the rocks, then at Shiro's gesture to his eyes, he smiled a bit. "Hah, yeah. I heard that one before," the smile didn't reach his eyes though. He heard that a lot from so many people, including Kolivan. He looked like he had the world as a burden on his shoulders, a burden he wouldn't be able to hold for much longer, but at least he was still here, a violet glint in his eyes.

He then caught the creature staring at the rocks in silence, and he took a moment to wonder what was on his mind. He seemed to have an aura about him that was charming, attractive, and he wondered if that was why merfolk were so beautiful. To lure in victims with kind words and toned muscles, then tear them up piece by piece where they were most vulnerable. But, this Shiro seemed different, like he had a weight on his shoulders too. His eyes caught the wounds again, decorating his body, and he frowned. What kind of life did he have to be so wary, so cautious and so afraid? The re-arrangement of the rocks grabbed his attention, and he watched the rocks increase into Shiro's age once more. He understood, until the man brought 5 rocks, took the fifth and placed it in his winter side.

"Uh.." He muttered, raising a brow, confused. He leaned forward, crossing the legs that were once dipped in the water. He began to think, thumb on cheek and the rest of his fingers covering his mouth, occasionally tapping his index finger against his lips. Say all the rocks represented cycles, or months..? Was Shiro saying his birthday was coming up? Was he asking when Keith's birthday was? He blinked a bit, trying to see things from another perspective, until it dawned on him. Five rocks, Shiro took the fifth, placed it in his collection.. Oh. If he wasn't drunk, he would have figured things out faster. He was sure of it. "You picked an awkward time to be born, huh? Leap Year and all that." He said with a breathy laugh, not expecting the other to understand but trying anyway. "1st of March. Nice." He nodded to himself, wondering if his friendship with this creature would last that long. They could celebrate.

And now it was Keith's turn. He took the rocks again, rearranged them until they showed his age. Then, he grabbed the first rock from the five rocks in a row, and placed it on his winter side. It wasn't an accurate month left for his birthday, only 24 days, but Keith didn't have a way in mind to express that. Besides, his eyes were barely open, even if his mind was buzzing with energy and curiosity at the creature. "We could celebrate, you know, start of another cycle and stuff."

Shiro listened to Keith talking. He wasn't sure what was being said but the words weren't what Shiro was listening to anymore. The tone of Keith's voice was low and smooth. The back of his throat hummed and the sounds came out with a slight husk that Shiro found himself eager to listen to. His way of talking was so relaxing. He watched Keith drooping as he spoke and recognised that he was tired. The moon had been out a long time now, it was beginning to set. Shiro wondered if the voice he was using was just because he was tired. He shouldn't keep him out here much longer if that was the case.

Shiro's eyes fell back on the rocks when Keith began rearranging the rocks again and he clicked at the back of his throat seeing that Keith was going to be 21 very soon. He looked up, straight into Keith's eyes and he was frozen there, caught in the shy sincerity that was within them. He picked up a tone that was new in Keith's voice and recognised the pull from his eyes - he was asking Shiro a question of sorts, or making a suggestion. Shiro just wished he knew what that question was. He searched Keith's purple eyes and watched the water sparkling in them. The moon reflected within them too and Shiro saw the life within them, beneath the hurt and the heavy weights. The life he wanted to know about. The life he needed to know about. His stomach squeezed and he could feel his heart racing the more he stared. He recognised the feeling and it started to worry him just a little - the last time he had felt them was when he first met Adam. He couldn't remember being so mesmerized around him though.

He finally broke away from the locked gaze and looked back down at the rocks. He would need to think of ways he could communicate with Keith, ways he could ask questions and find out the answers. He wanted to know more about the language so he could imitate it and use it to ask questions and find out more answers. He felt compelled to learn more about this beautifully dark being that he was sure he could lose himself in. He looked back to Keith and pointed to him, then pointed to the wooden structure on the beach, then to the moon again. Keith's eyes were drooping more as time passed and Shiro didn't want him falling asleep so close to the water. High tide was approaching and he had sensed Keith's aversion to the water since he had sat down at the dock. He spoke gently, his voice sounding like waves and whistles in the wind, whilst he pushed the words into Keith's mind with his learned telepathy. Perhaps Keith could learn to use it too - he looked similar to mer-folk in so many ways physically that perhaps his kind had the capacity to do so. 'It's almost dawn, you should rest, you can't sleep here.'

He waited, and waited for Shiro to answer his suggestion, but it didn't seem like he understood, and it made Keith sigh. If only this creature understood Keith the way he understood him. And even that was strange. It almost felt like an enhanced sense; like he could listen to merfolk talk and relate to every word, like it was in his blood, but they didn't understand him back. What did he lack, and what did he need to make them get him? He frowned a bit staring down at the rocks, wishing there was a different way. A better way of communication, and although he loved the attention he was getting at the moment, occasionally staring up at the eyes gazing at him, he thought that wasn't enough. Even when things involved staring at a sea creature he found handsome, he needed to talk and be talked to. It was the one thing he missed, the one thing he always took for granted.

His eyes found their way up again, away from the rocks, his ears listening in on the waves clashing against the wooden structure before he heard a voice in his mind and it made his eyes widen, staring back at the sea like someone spoke to him there. But it was Shiro's voice, loud and clear in his head. "What the.." he murmured to himself, looking quizzically back at the merman like he was asking a silent question. His voice sounded like the waves in the morning, the wind hitting against the surface of the water. It frightened him at first, but it felt so familiar too. Like he heard someone else's voice accompanied by those same waves, someone that was trying to talk to him and lull him to sleep once upon a time. What was going on?

He was still wide-eyed for a few seconds, his state of drunkenness messing up his reaction times before he decided, 'fuck it'. He downed an entire bottle of beer. Of course this was bound to happen.

So, in a childish state of revolt, he gave a small pout and shook his head, pointing against the wooden structure. Then, he laid his back against it, imitating the motion of pulling a blanket over his body then clasping his two hands under his ear, closing his eyes. He was going to sleep here, and this 'injustice' he was against was very cruel. He opened an eye, staring at the other to see his reaction to that small show.

Shiro blinked and reared back at the man's reaction. He had anticipated some kind of resistance in the form of Keith wanting to stay up to talk to him or to find out more about him but the man simply laid back and pretended to pull a blanket over himself. Shiro frowned and made a noise that was half-way between a screech and a frustrated huff. He didn't want Keith to stay out in the cold, he didn't want the man to get sick or he wouldn't be able to see him again, didn't Keith understand this?

Shiro huffed again and clicked his frustration at the back of his throat before getting an idea that could go one of two ways. He had noticed that Keith avoided the water. He had briefly dangled his limbs into the water but this had been with some hesitation and only brief. Shiro's initial idea was to splash him with water, but he thought that it might scare him away and this was certainly not what he wanted. He looked at the man and saw his beautiful purple eyes watching him with a rebellious glint in them. 'I see what you are trying to do' Shiro thought and he crossed his arms over his broad muscular chest and raised an eyebrow. If Keith could be petulant like a child then Shiro could be stern like a parent.

It was then that the mischievous glint struck Shiro's eye instead of Keith's. He switched his gaze to the small pink stubby appendages on the ends of Keith's limbs and wondered whether it was like stroking the underside of his tail - ticklish. He leaned up against the wood and pushed himself up further in order to reach; his whole chest now above the water. He locked eyes with Keith again, his own full of mischief. He let himself smirk, before reaching out and taking hold of Keith's foot with one hand, then tickling it with the other hand.

He tried not to laugh as he saw the merman crossing his arms over his chest, sternly frowning like an unhappy parent. The way he looked felt so human and way too funny for Keith's own good, so he began to chew on his lower lip making a silent oath to never let a single laugh escape his mouth at the sight. The wind swept against his hair as he sat up, watching as the other moved up a bit more up the deck, his entire chest now exposed to him, and with a small flip in his own chest he wondered what he was going to do. A part of him blared its alarms again, hoping he wouldn't get splashed or dragged into the water, and his eyes began to showcase slight worry before he felt the hand around his foot and felt the fingers against his toes. Immediately, the sensation of being tickled ran straight to his mind, and his teeth bit deeper into his lips.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a slight croak sounding in his voice as he tried his hardest not to laugh while also trying to stay still, completely not fazed and even challenging the other to do his worst. "I'm still not leaving!" he attempted to act like he was annoyed with the merman, trying to pull his foot out of his hold before he let out an uncalled for squeal among his thrashing, and his eyes widened at the creature like he hoped he hadn't heard that sound before he exploded in fits of laughter. At first, they were small, short giggles, then they escalated into full-blown chuckles, exactly like when the other man mispronounced his name. "Fuck, stop tickling me!" He covered his mouth, trying to pull his foot out of his grasp. It was a burning sensation to be tickled, a giggly kind of torture, and he was laughing so hard he was barely breathing. His voice echoed through the night, the way he snorted and wheezed like he heard the best joke of his life.

"Mercy!" He said with a grin between laughs, holding his hands up in surrender and pleading with the merman to let him go. The part of him not laughing was wondering how Shiro knew to do that trick. Did he try it with another human before? Better yet, was Shiro ticklish on his tail too? He made a mental note to take his revenge later when the opportunity presented itself, but he realized he still wanted to say around for longer. Sleep wasn't such a good activity for Keith, since all it did was bring bad memories and restless nights, so he tried to convince him to stay. Just a while longer. "A little longer? Please?" He acted like there was a watch on his wrist that he pointed at, then made his best impression of puppy eyes, which wouldn't have come easily if he were sober. He even sat on his stomach cheeks in his hands, approaching the other so he could express his desire to stay with him more.

Shiro stopped tickling Keith when his laughter and shouts became so loud he feared that someone from the nearby dwellings would come to find them in fear of someone's death. He grinned and couldn't help but laugh along with Keith as he giggled and rolled on the ground. He leaned up on the wood, his long tail still dangling and swishing in the water but he couldn't take his eyes off Keith. He never wanted this man to stop smiling - he was breathtaking in his happiness. Shiro's laughter died down before Keith's, so he just watched, grinning brightly and enjoying the view before him.

Keith was unlike any other merman or woman that Shiro had met. He felt his emotions so strongly and they hummed around him like a bubble. His current emotion bubbled up like a hot fissure under the sea and it melted into his laughter with bright colours and sounds. He enjoyed seeing Keith this way. The man finally stopped laughing and rolled onto his stomach. Shiro froze when he did so. Now that he was perched on the wooden planks, Keith was suddenly close to him. His face was close enough that if he tried, he might feel Keith's breath on his face. Another difference that Shiro was now completely aware of - Keith's breathing pattern was completely different to his. His breathing came from his chest and was harsh when it pushed its way out of his mouth. Shiro's own breath was close to nothing. His gills worked for him under the sea and only worked at half of their capacity out of the water. He got breathless much quicker out of the sea because his lungs weren't equipped for him to work hard outside of the water, so his chest barely moved when he breathed. Keith's body rippled with the force of his breathlessness and Shiro worked hard not to focus on the panting sounds he was making. He swallowed hard and looked at Keith's gestures instead.

He was pointing to his arm and making adorably large eyes like a child would with their parent. He scrunched up his nose. He wasn't sure what the arm gesture meant, but he was sure that Keith was trying to stay longer. Shiro rolled his eyes and dropped his head to his left shoulder, almost ready to give in. He pointed to himself and then used his hand to make a wriggling motion like that of a swimming fish towards the sand. He would swim with him to shore and see him back to the dwelling, but he didn't want Keith to get sick or actually fall asleep, especially not with the liquid he was drinking. It smelled a lot like the liquid the younger merfolk dug up from the old smugglers caves and he had seen how silly that made them. He didn't want Keith getting into trouble because of it.

As soon as he saw the other drop his head to his shoulder, his hope of convincing him to stay began to reappear and he smirked, taking all of this time to stare at his features up close. There was absolutely no way he would have done this so eagerly, so comfortably, if he were sober, and now not only was he drunk but he was also getting quite sleepy. His drooping eyes still took the details of his face in, though. His eyes, his cheeks, everything that looked so foreign yet so familiar. So humane yet otherworldly charming. He saw the gesture and nodded idly, then tilted his head to the side, laying his cheek on his arm. If only this guy were human. He would probably be a gymnastics coach, or some sort of captain, or school jock, maybe even a pilot, or..

In his deep thought, he didn't even realize his other free hand had softly and ever so gently placed itself on the white tuft of hair sticking against Shiro's forehead, stroking his hair admiringly. It was so soft and wet against his fingers that it felt like a human's hair. Like when his father used to let him play with his hair all he wanted, or when his mother gently caressed him to sleep, her fingers delving deep into his raven locks while he slowly fell into a state of unconsciousness. It gave him a fond feeling, memories he thought he forgot with the wind that occasionally swept his hair as he laid there. But he was still remembering, and his heart was still swelling, and he hoped Shiro wouldn't mind the sentimentality that washed over him like a violating wave. He usually hated when people were around him in this state, but with the merman... all fears washed away.

He sighed, eventually pulling his fingers away and placing them over his head. If only he could speak to Shiro telepathically, maybe he could understand more than the humans like him did. And so, he squeezed his eyes shut, focused with all the sober might left in him, willing a word--any word--through his mind and over to the merman's. But he couldn't. Nothing came across to the other, and he couldn't even manage a single thought in his head right now. It frustrated him, so much, and he let out a groan. "I wish you could understand me like I understand you," he murmured, not expecting a reply as a deep frown graced his features, his fingers still high and idle up in the air like they were since they left Shiro's hair. "But you can't." He said like he just accepted a harsh truth.

He wanted to get up now, hide his face and hopefully go to sleep back in his shack, but he couldn't get himself to leave the dock either. Eventually though, he only slightly sat up, knelt on his legs as they slowly scraped against the wooden structure.

Shiro watched Keith's eyes both stare at him and away into the distance. The man was deep in his own thoughts and he drifted in and out of them. He realised that Keith was getting more and more sleepy and soon he would indeed be asleep. He opened his mouth to insist, when he stopped, his whole body suddenly alight with electric when Keith touched his hair. He didn't think it was possible, but Shiro was breathless. The soft motion of Keith's hand sent sparks down to his tail with each new touch and Shiro couldn't breathe again until he stopped.

Shiro's heart raced. He hadn't had feelings like that for such a long time and they were intense. This intoxicated being had set his body alight with sensation and Shiro feared that it would ruin him. He had spent too long in the dark arenas of Zarkon's underwater empire and experienced only pain and harsh blows and words, that this tender touch was like a burst of nostalgia. The second that Keith let go, Shiro reached out to grab his hand instinctively. He didn't want the feeling to end. It felt so new, yet so exciting and right that he wasn't ready for it to end. He gripped Keith's hand with his, not tightly, but enough to keep Keith's hand there. Shiro's palm was soft, though scarred. He loosened the grip he had and stared intently at Keith, wanting to place it right back where it had been. He couldn't, though. The intensity of the feelings had caught him off guard and the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to know what it felt like for Keith to lie his hands on his neck, his shoulders. He didn't need that. Not yet.

Instead, he brought Keith's hand to his lips and, heart hammering inside his chest, pressed his knuckles to his lips. He then let go and slipped back into the water, relieved to feel the familiar coolness of the sea around him. It was enough to cool the heat of his skin that had shot up considerably after kissing Keith's knuckles. He didn't want to see Keith's reaction, so he pushed himself forward instead, starting to swim towards the shore. He swam what would have been around 4 strides for Keith before breaking the surface and looking up to see if the man was following him or not.

His droopy eyes widened with full attention as soon as Shiro took hold of his hand, and he found himself letting him hold it for as long as he wished. His palm felt soft when he dropped his fingers to gently touch the skin, but he could still feel faint scar marks on his hand. Even with that feeling, Keith still found himself loving the warmth this hand brought him, and he was instantly reminded of how much he missed skin to skin contact no matter how much he denied it. Though, when Shiro pulled his hand closer to his lips and planted what felt like the most gentle kiss against his knuckles, the boy knew he was done for.

He just kissed him. And if he wasn't initially charmed by anything related to this merman, he absolutely, undoubtedly was now. A dark blush embraced his cheeks, and his eyes never left the creature as he let his hand go, swimming away. The kissed hand was now against his chest, and he could almost feel his heart hammering. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. Within seconds, he was on his feet, hoping he at least had some small ounce of control over his emotions before he turned and once again lost his cool the moment their eyes met. Only then did Keith remember that he had a home to return to, but he felt wide awake now.

Such a simple gesture was bound to leave Keith playing it back in his head all night, burning into his mind so that he never forgets it, even as he wakes up the next morning.

He walked up the dock, his movement deliberately slow as the overwhelming feeling in his chest still thumped, until he was inches away from the abalone shell Shiro gifted him. He held it in his arms, before he was finally up on the sandy stairs, only a few steps away from his shack. He took a deep breath, before he glanced at the merman again. He hoped he couldn't see him blush, and instead he waved at him, shooting him a fond smile before he turned, up on the stairs the way he came. What he hadn't noticed, were the words that slipped out of his mind and over to Shiro's telepathically, three words all at once. Loud and clear in Keith's voice. Sleep well, Shiro.

Once inside his shack, he closed the door shut behind him, resting his head against the wood before he began to feel at the kissed hand with his other hand. He placed the shell in front of the window pane, expecting the rainbows to hit his face while he slept in the morning. He continued to touch at it, the slight wetness on his knuckles driving shivers through his spine until he fell back on his bed, his smile dissipating into a peaceful expression. He was feeling so many feelings at once, and not one was negative, for the first time in a while. The ceiling was suddenly interesting, and the bed was pretty cozy, and soon enough he was asleep, his eyes shut and breathy snores leaving his lips. What he initially thought was a boring night turned out to be the best night of his whole life.

Shiro had almost expected Keith to turn and run after his display of affection. He was surprised mostly to see the response that Keith did take. He was trance-like in his movements as he travelled up to his dwelling and didn’t look to Shiro once, though he did hold onto his hand. That soft, warm hand that had felt both full and slender in Shiro’s rough sandpaper-like touch. He touched his lips briefly, still feeling the memory of the smooth skin there and he smiled softly to himself.

When Keith finally turned to him, sShiro was relieved to see that the expression he gave was not one of fear or resentment but beautiful fondness. His face smiled with his lips and crinkled his eyes so innocently, so purely that Shiro felt his heart melt in his chest. This human was so mesmerising. Everything he did had Shiro intrigued and entranced like Keith himself was a siren. He was ready to turn away when Keith’s voice sounded in his mind. It was as loud as it was when he was right beside him, yet held the same rippling effect of a long lost memory that siren voices had. His heart jumped in his chest with both longing and excitement that he knew he would get no sleep now.

He waited for Keith to step into his dwelling before he pushed himself onto his back and lay there in the moonlight, floating atop the water. The sound of Keith’s laughter rang in his ears alongside his final goodnight and as he closed his eyes he found Keith burned into the backs of his eyelids. He stayed like it for hours, thinking of Keith like an adolescent but he couldn’t help himself. It was only when the sun began to slice open the sky with bright red and gold rays that he finally found a cave to rest and sleep in. He slept dreamlesy, his thoughts being preoccupied with reliving the night with Keith and resending every sensation that had accompanied it.

Click, click, click.
An incessant noise.
Keith.. Keith. Can you hear me? If you do, do not try to find me.
This is just another one of your dreams. My life is too dangerous for you to be part of it. I'm sorry. I miss you, but I can't be with you anymore. Please don't hate me.

He grumbled in his sleep, trying to will the words out of his lips. Trying to speak up for himself instead of watching people make decisions for him for what felt like the millionth time. He had the right to say no, to deny everything, but people still let him go just to protect him, to keep him safe. Fuck that, he was capable of that on his own. But that clicking noise, it went on for what felt like hours on end, like something was tapping against that window. Wait.

Once that small fact hit him in the face he shot up, just about ready to see who was tapping against his window when he saw a raven that fluttered away as soon as it caught his movement inside, one or two feathers trailing behind it. His eyes had barely taken in any more detail before a rainbow crashed onto his face, like the shell placed against the sunlight was trying to calm him down or distract him. It worked, and Keith leaned his back against the headboard as he felt the colors on his face, photo-worthy. He rubbed at his eyes, sniffing a bit. Too much happened last night. He got drunk, spoke to the merman.. spoke to the merman...

An instant reminder of the kiss he'd gotten the night before sent his eyes down onto his hand, and he held it fondly once more like he was grasping a memory too precious to let go. He smiled a bit, hopping out of bed and lazily stretching. His hair was, understandably, a mess and locks of raven stuck out at every angle, but he never brought himself to care about that too much. Instead, he dragged his legs over to his bathroom, not so eager to start a new day yet still looking forward to it--surprisingly. Because, at this point in his day he always thought of ending everything. Take the gun his father left behind for him, pull the trigger and that'll be all. No one would notice, no one would care, and he liked it better that way. After all, he'd gotten pretty close to that only a few days ago.

But there was a new motivation there, something deep that Keith couldn't pinpoint, but he knew for a fact that it had something to do with a particular sea creature he came into recent contact with. Maybe he's not mending him, but he's making the pain tolerable and he needed that. Aside from him pushing himself to move, the excitement of seeing him again was also a contributing factor to the equation. He needed to see him again, otherwise the nagging feeling in his chest won't settle, but this time he wanted to join him at sea, fix the damn boat and let Shiro lead him wherever, because that's where he'll go, but he still lacked supplies, and that's what he took his bike for.

It was strange. He stopped riding his bike months ago because he simply had no reason important enough to, yet there he was now, racing through the road and over to the nearest market where he was with Kolivan just days ago. He picked up what he needed, paid and raced back to the beach, half-hoping he'll find Shiro waiting there, because life was apparently a romantic drama movie. Of course he won't be there. The merman had a life, he knew that, and getting so attached was dangerous. He needed to get himself together as he approached the rundown boat, placing his tools beside it and deciding to spend his entire day fixing it, but a part of him nagged that he needed to take a look at the dock first. And he did just that, his hands behind his back as he swayed over to the deck, wondering if there was anything even awaiting him there. Maybe a shell. Maybe Shiro himself. Both were just as amazing.

The sun was bright and glaring down at Shiro when he woke up. His eyes were dropping and tired but his mind was slight with excitement. He instantly recalled the night before, meeting the land man and his stomach flipped happily. He swam back to the cove to look for signs of movement on the shore, then swam closer to the dock, where they had spoken and exchanged gifts.

On his dorsal fin, around his body, where his waist would have been if he was human He wore a purse of sorts. It was fashioned from kelp and a shark egg shell. They were fashionable in mer-culture and a way for merfolk to carry their wares safely and securely. Shiro had weighed up the pros and cons of attaching the shell that Keith had given him to the outside of the bag, before deciding that it was too precious to leave for hard currents to bash and snatch so he had tucked it inside. He took it out now and smiled fondly at it. In the sunlight he could appreciate the soft pink colour and he noted the subtle brown hues. It was small and delicate and so beautiful.

He tucked it away again carefully and swam as close to shore as he could without beaching himself, still looking out for Keith. He saw no signs of movement from within the shack aside from a raven that squawked as it fluttered away from the window. Shiro puffed out air in a sigh and slipped back into the deeper end of the cove. He could feel warm currents rushing around him and cold ones by his tail fin. Then he felt the bitter cold.

It was like a wave washing over him, like ice had suddenly bitten his very insides. Shiro shuddered and looked out into the ocean. Zarkon was calling for a tournament. Shiro shivered at the thought and subconsciously put a hand over his shoulder. It took him several hours to swim out to sea to find the official invitation.

It read the time and date but nothing else. Useless to anyone who did not recohnise the signiture of the dark magic behind the invitation itself. A week today. Shiro sighed heavily and headed back to his cove, to his Keith. The sun was already beginning to set by the time Shiro slipped up out of the water bu the dock.

Sadly he wasn't there. Nothing was there.
Keith frowned, missing the presence of the curious face, the tail and the heart worn on a sleeve, but his gut feeling told him the time will come for him to return, and with a stern resolve he eliminated all distractions and raced to the boat, placing himself in the proper mindset to start tinkering. Grabbing a small wooden chair, he rested down on it, beginning to work his way around repairing and cleaning it. Hours had passed, and he realized he was being successfully distracted into doing something else other than think of himself or Shiro, and he could get used to that feeling. Pure relaxation, sometimes frustration at the boat being uncooperative, but anything other than those other overwhelming negative thoughts. Coincidentally, he found a small dusty coin on the inside of the boat. Like the remnants of an offering from long ago.

As he thoroughly cleaned the crimson red exterior of the boat (he was unsure if it was blood or just paint problems) he'd found a small dent on the underside. It felt rough against his fingers, uncomfortable. It was only when he looked at it that he realized what it was; a signature of sorts. The letter K. Keith? He raised a brow. Did his father leave that for him, like he was indirectly saying that he was to be the righteous owner of the boat after him? It was strange, and as his fingers traced the letter, dust began to form inside his nails, and he knew he should get to work before the sun fell.

More work, more sweat later, and the boy was halfway done with getting this boat to work again. A feeling of pride swelled in his chest, having finally completed a mission without procrastinating or lazying about without having it even halfway done. He gave himself a pat on the back for what felt like the first time in ages, and he huffed, leaning back to commend himself on his work. The red exterior on the boat gleamed in the almost disappearing sunlight, and the mark of the 'K' held unreachable answers to questions he didn't know he had. With a stretch of his body, he sighed and placed the chair away for tomorrow. And that's when he heard it, the small wave in the water. A beckoning. There he was. His Shiro.

Was he really his, though?

"Shiro," he said in greeting, his voice low and shy but still heard as he walked closer, waving at him. He half-wondered if he could pronounce his name now but decided not to bring it up just yet as he sat in front of him, knees scraping the wood.

Seeing Keith sent a wave of relaxation washing through Shiro. Overnight, this dishevelled young land-man had become synonymous with his relaxed state of happiness and Shiro didn't want to think about it too deeply at this moment. He flashed a toothy grin Keith's way and ducked under the surface to swim up closer to him. He broke the surface beneath Keith's feet and grinned again as he exclaimed in happiness, "Keys!"

He felt a rush in his chest as he laid eyes on this man. He looked different in the natural daylight and the reds within the sunset were highlighted all over his pale skin. Shiro noticed that he didn't have the smell lingering about him this time, instead he smelled what he could only describe as 'Keith'. It was fascinating that the land creatures all had such pungent smells and wore them so openly. Under the sea, smells were different. Smells were emotions and the biggest emotion was fear. It had an acrid tang like the smell of blood and it was almost always accompanied by the throbbing of someone's heart.

Shiro looked up to Keith and he desperately wanted to speak with him, to have a conversation with him. He wanted to talk to him about where Keith had been that day and what he was doing on the beach with all of the wood and the tools. He thought for a moment, staring out to the beach, then looked back and touched Keith's hand softly, then pointed out to the wooden structure he was making. His skin felt tingly up his arm where he had touched Keith's hand and again his stomach rushed with excitement. He just hoped that Keith wasn't repulsed by his touch.

He pointed again and looked quizzically at Keith, then patted the water, wondering perhaps if it was a vessel for him to use on the water. There were many in the harbour a few miles along the coast and were used very regularly. He wondered whether Keith knew how to sail. He had seemed quite averse to the water the night before.

The merman was so much more comfortable around him than the night before, and he was greeted by yet another mispronunciation of his name that made his heart swell in his chest. It was adorable seeing him settle with 'Keys', and the boy realized he hardly minded when he was so busy taking in the creature's clearer figure in the sunlight. He looked so powerful with the sun behind him, like he was a hero that saved the world from impending doom, and for a moment Keith thought it was a sight worth capturing. But unfortunately, his camera was under his bed, collecting the dust.

Looks like he got another motivation for something else, because of Shiro. That stupidly handsome merman.

He looked like he had something to say. Keith learned how to tell. The creature always either looked down or at the beach for ideas, and usually his ideas were smart, so he waited for him until he took his hand and pointed at the boat. The touch brought him back to the night before for a flash of a second, and he couldn't help but smile a bit and give him a small, playful squeeze. "Mhm," he nodded with a hum, placing his own hand in the water and imitating a boat sailing through the water before he pointed at himself, hit two index fingers from each hand together, then pointed at Shiro. 'You and me, journeys on my boat.' was something along the ways of what he meant by his gestures.

He wanted to get more into it, describe other things about his boat, but he ran short of any other methods of expression. He was sure that both he and the merman didn't understand sign language, and he could swear there was a way he could communicate with Shiro, but he wasn't able to gather the ability to. It was like a flash, came to him one minute then left the next, before he could get used to it. But he settled with that for now, and hoped Shiro understood him clearly.

Shiro felt Keith squeezing his hand and again with the stomach flips and fizzing. He wondered whether he would get any sleep that night knowing what he had felt there. He watched intently, his eyes flicking between Keith's hands and his face to judge what he was trying to say. He tilted his head to one side, replaying the signs and gestures before recognising that Keith was indeed building a vessel and wanted to use it on the sea. He pulled a concerned face and used his next communication as another excuse to touch him. In truth he enjoyed the rush it was giving him and the cheeky squeezes that Keith gave in return. Even if it meant something different on land.

He placed a concerned hand on Keith's and left it there this time, using his other hand to point to Keith and then at the sea, vigourously shaking his head. He knew that Keith didn't like the sea. He was worried that Keith would be putting himself in danger by trying to sail on it. He didn't want that to be because of him. He squeezed Keith's hand gently, showing his concern for his new friend. He wasn't even sure whether Keith knew how to sail, though he was impressed that he was building a vessel himself. Merfolk were very handy and enjoyed tinkering and building things from the treasures they found beneath the sea. It was a very appealing skill to have and Shiro liked that a lot about Keith.

He also supposed that explained why Keith's hand felt so rough under Shiro's touch. He had faint traces of sawdust and oil on his hands and they were dry from working so hard. He stroked a thumb gently over Keith's coarse skin and studied his face. He was ridiculously handsome now that Shiro knew his skills and an oil stain had made its way onto his chin. Shiro felt an urge to wipe it away and feel the skin of his face, but he stopped himself, knowing that just holding this man's hand was stepping over one boundary too many already.

Keith followed the hand on his own hand, and the pointing towards the calm waves that crashed through the sea, then the vigorous head shaking and raised a brow. Why not? Yes, he was scared of the ocean - and everything about it - but. He didn't know. He just wanted a change from this usual daily, tantalizingly slow and boring routine. It was a chance to start over, overcome his fears, and Keith expected the merman to support him. But he could understand where the concern came from; he was openly scared of the water and he knew how obvious he showcased this fear.

"Shiro," he began, giving him yet another squeeze of his hand. Perhaps as a way to charm him into supporting his decision, or just because he welcomed the feeling of his skin against his own no matter how rough or morbidly foreign. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more ethereal the presence of this man in front of him became. He was even showing concern for him, as crazy as that was. He still couldn't believe what was so special about his life after all, but he preferred not to think about that thought now.

He placed his other hand on Shiro's for further comfort, and smiled a bit, giving a nod. Trust me, he was trying to say. He pointed to himself, and gave a gesture of a thumbs up, wondering if the merman understood what that movement meant. I'll be okay, he meant. But he wasn't sure himself. He wanted to try to sail, but had no idea where to start. The whole idea of being so close to the water was scary, but again, it felt like a siren was calling him. Someone from his past, perhaps?

Shiro sensed that Keith was trying to win him over or convince him and he pulled a face, scrunching up his nose and looking unsure. He knew that Keith was afraid of the water and Keith couldn’t convince him otherwise. He wondered whether there was something he could do to help him realise just how afraid he was and to perhaps help him lose some of that fear. He pondered, looking at their hands.

Keith’s hands were so soft and gently, it felt as though his own skin could rip through it. It felt nice to hold onto something soft, to brush against something delicate, not like the walls of meat and muscle that he was used to taking on. He frowned, instinctively and unconsciously gripping onto Keith’s hand tighter. Perhaps there was good reason for him to stay out of the water after all. It was the only way Zarkon could keep his hands off him.

He looked back to Keith’s eyes and felt himself melting inside a little. Imagine Keith here in the water with him, imagine him exploring the coves with him. He debated the idea in his head before sighing and clicking softly. Fine. he decided. On the one condition that Keith started to lose his fear of the ocean. He pulled his hand away somewhat reluctantly and gestured for Keith to follow him into the water. He swam back just a stroke and pointed to the shore. He pointed to Keith’s toes and then again to the tiny waves that broke on the shore. He then pointed to himself and pointed further up onto the beach. ’You step into the water. I’ll come onto the beach. He offered, wondering whether it was a good enough swap for Keith.

Once again, the man watched intently, and the moment he began to understand what the merman was trying to tell him, his expression changed. The relaxed smile from before disappeared and was replaced by an uncertain frown and a weak shake of his head, crossing his arms in slight hesitation as he stared at the water in front of him. "No, I.." he tried to describe how much he hated the water, how far away from it he wanted to stay, but he couldn't find enough words. He just stared at the waves for a second before sighing.

"Fine. Just-just one foot," he told himself as he turned around, began to walk over to the shore and took in a deep breath, once again anxiety creeping up into his heart. It was like something repulsed him away from the water, but brought him closer at the same time, wished he approached. He didn't know which to listen to, but he hoped Shiro would be there. Guide him until he can guide himself. At least he agreed on letting him go near the water at all, and he realized he might have convinced him about the boat.

But, Keith realized, he was talking about a boat. A boat he would use to swim through the water, not his own body.
He sighed, cursing under his breath once he reached the water sooner than he expected and, closing his eyes a little, he boldly entered the water with one leg. The surprisingly cold and dark water engulfed him in seconds, and he almost just shot his leg back and ran away from the whole situation, but he chewed on his lower lip and persevered. Tried to, at least, and let his hand clench into a fist, his nails digging into his skin.

But then quickly, it felt like a spark of electricity took over the leg that was in the water and he gasped, jumping back in fear. What the fuck was that? He never felt that before, and it left him with wide eyes and newfound desire to just escape the beach altogether.

Shiro swam across to the shore, following Keith closely and only looked away from the man when his chest bumped against the sand on the sea bed. He wriggled slightly, his back and dorsal fin exposed above the water before he pushed himself closer to the beach, pushing more and more of himself out of the water. It wasn't particularly difficult, seeing as Shiro had worked hard to build up his strength over the past year, it was mostly awkward. He wasn't used to pulling himself forward with his arms. He stopped when Keith did, still within the confines of the sea and he leaned on his elbows to watch Keith.

As Shiro expected, the sour taste of fear quickly filled the air and Keith went rigid. The anxiety washed over his face and he clenched his soft hands into hard fists. Shiro wanted to tell him it was okay, that he was safe and Shiro was there with him. He lasted less than a minute before shooting back as though something had bitten him. Immediately, the fins on Shiro's elbows stood on end and the fin-like protrusions he had instead of ears stood on end protectively. He searched the water for whatever had frightened Keith and pushed himself up onto his hands to search. When he couldn't find anything, he hit the surface of the water and clicked with frustration, muttering to himself about being on higher alert to protect Keith when he was so scared.

He looked back to Keith and his heart skipped a beat seeing the expression that was there, clear as day on Keith's face. "Keys..." he murmured, wanting to rush to him and protect him, apologize for making him go out of his comfort zone for just a stupid test. He clenched his own fists and looked down, hanging his head shamefully. This was his fault - what if Keith never wanted to come back? He sent Keith his telepathic waves again, focusing on the two words he truly meant, "I'm sorry, Keith... I'm so sorry."