spaces_between | This isn't the Little Mermaid

[No, no, this was his place and this was his Steve, and he was defend it because it was his and nothing, not even those mermen from his old bachelor group were allowed here to share in it. He twisted around, the fins on his tail raising in threat before he was looking over at Steve again.

He allowed the shiny to leave his grip, though his lips pulled back to show his sharp razor-like teeth. He settled over his own tail when he was assured that no other of his kind was here to steal things from him, though he looked around the shadow one more time just to make certain. Steve stroking his hair sure was nice.

James uncurled, his long tail sliding wetly and with a rasping sound as he moved awkwardly on land. He wasn't yet dry enough to acquire his legs, a pleasant mistake he had made when he had lounged too long on the deck of a ship after stealing their fish unguarded. He slid closer, undulating his lower half until he was up close to Steve.

He blinked in clear wonder at the illusion that mirror showed. He peered at the mirror shard and then at Steve, agreeing that the people were identical looking.] Yes, you are Steve, and you are mine. The shiny doubles you a bit.

[Suddenly, self-awareness reflected in the way his eyes lit up as he reached out slowly to curl his hand around Steve's and direct the mirror to be aimed at him. Instinct told him an intruder, but he mentally reflected that it was not. That was... him? He'd never seen himself before, and it was all wonder when he mentally grasped the significance.] That is... what you see of me? That is James Barnes, your Bucky?

[ Bucky's agitation was endearing, almost, but Steve's concern for him overrode anything else he could think of, because Bucky was so fiercely possessive, so very ready to defend his territory (because that was the way it worked in the sea, with his group) that it took a few tries to get him to relax.

Steve never feared those sharp teeth, knew right down to his bones that his Bucky, yes, his, would never hurt him -- not even when he was out of control. With a soft laugh, happy to have him come beside him again, Steve took some time to openly admire his tail before he helped him settle beside him, stunningly beautiful even in the shadows.

He leaned close, wrapping a skinny arm around the other's waist, and he smiled at Bucky's innocent curiosity, the sharp intelligence when he figured out what it was. It was an amazing, wonderful thing, to see Bucky finally looking at his own reflection in the mirror. What an experience it was, to share this with him, the way Bucky took to it so quickly. ]

This is you. [ He agreed, resting his chin on Bucky's shoulder so that both their faces could be seen. ] You're my Bucky, aren't you? [ He turned his face to the side, pressed his forehead to Bucky's jaw and smiled, soft and sad, almost. ] And you're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen in my life.

[Steve had long ago become something that he considered his, like the knife that he had once found in a wreckage that he had explored. The other boy admired him and taught him things and always came to visit, though he knew that most of the time that Steve was late a battle was being waged. He liked those struggles for survival; he liked when Steve did them where he could watch and admire how often the other rose despite the impossible odds.

It was breath-taking. He had never thought to step in because Steve never stayed down for long. Perhaps if there was a real threat to the boy's life. Steve struggled to survive better than anything he had ever seen.

He slipped a possessive arm around Steve's waist in return, leaning against the other boy's shoulder and peering at the mirror. He guided their hands so that he could take in all of his appearance little-by-little, not wanting to miss a detail. His teeth were very sharp, he was proud to think. His facial features were smooth and mature, though he was still growing into them.

He turned his head when he was finished examining himself and then hooked his chin over Steve's small shoulder.] Yes, you have given me a name, and that makes me yours. That also makes you very much mine. [He preened at the compliment, grinning at Steve.] Yes, I am beautiful, aren't I? It's why I'm such an effective hunter.

You're the best hunter. [ Steve laughed softly at that -- yes, his Bucky was a prideful, ferocious hunter, as beautiful as he was deadly. He didn't know when he had started thinking of Bucky as his, he had once thought that the other was like a storm in the night, who came and left like lightning, and was never to be claimed or grasped.

But then things changed, and Steve had begun to think of Bucky as his own, and the truth of that was that he was. And there they are, together in the little mirror, like they'd always belonged. He watched when Bucky preened, studied the beauty of him as he took himself in, and he gently bumped his nose against his. ] And when you're bored, you can always do this.

[ He shifted the mirror this way and that, letting the light bounce off of it, knowing how charmed Bucky was by everything that shone. He gave it back to him then, reaching into his jacket for the orange he had bought for a few pennies before he visited Bucky. ] Remember this?

Yes, I am. At least around these parts. [He admitted that against the females of his kind, it was difficult to get the upper hand when they lured and killed as a cohesive family unit. Those didn't tend to come that close to land where lone males or bachelor groups tended to find an easier time. He was still very healthy and growing well for his age; it helped that this area of land and the many docks provided him with easy opportunities. It also provided him with Steve.

He glanced at Steve, dropping his hand away at the touch of their noses, a human gesture of affection he had seen often when observing mate pairs on bridges or walking along the water. He leaned in and nudged his forehead against Steve's in the equivalent of the marine gesture, and his arm tightened on Steve's slim waist possessively.

He pulled away to watch the light catch the mirror and dance on the damp walls of the bridge, and he laughed his musical-like laugh in pleasure at the sight. He rested his cheek against Steve's shoulder and enjoyed the showing, and he smelt the orange before he saw it, immediately perking.] Yes, that is the sweet treat that you called an 'orange', which is the same as the colour, yes? We share the orange?"

We share the orange. [ Steve assured him, endlessly endeared by the innocent way his Bucky lit up, as if this was something wonderful, something to look forward to. And perhaps to him it is; and Steve was amazed, looking through Bucky's eyes.

He'd loved that gesture of affection in turn, the way Bucky returned it in his own way, thoroughly aware of the fact that the other could so easily rip his throat out if he hadn't felt the same for him.

He sighed softly, happily, struck by that sweet, alluring laughter before he started peeling, the citrusy scent lingering. He gave Bucky the bigger portion -- the merman was always hungrier than he was. Steve kept him close, happy to be held. ] You know, I never which came first, the fruit or the colour. What do you think?

[Sharing was an act that Steve was teaching him more than anyone else. This sort of altruism was not something prevalent among males unless bonded to a female, a skill that was more developed out of deferral to a mate. Steve seemed unaware of this skill, and he was hard-pressed not to learn anything that was being taught to him.

He still took the larger half offered without complaint. He was bigger, stronger and growing far more than Steve after all. He peeled off a slice and pushed it into his mouth, breaking it open with his teeth and sucking the juice out with a soft sound of pleasure. He was back to butting his forehead against Steve's as he chewed.]

The fruit, obviously. Words always come second after the object. [He looked at Steve and smiled happily.] How many did you get pushed around by today?

[ It was the way it was, Steve knew -- Bucky was a refreshing presence, Bucky treated him like something worthy of respect, and perhaps an equal in all the ways that counted, and Steve loved him all the more for it. He had never insisted that Steve took the bigger portions, never clucked disapprovingly when he got into more fights than he should.

But Bucky protected him, Steve knew. His fierce predator always stepped in when things went too far; but that happened only very rarely. Steve nuzzled him back, enjoying his gentle headbutts as his free hand found its way to the nape of Bucky's neck, rubbing gentle patterns over them before he smiled. ]

Just three. [ Steve had fought fiercely, got beat up, but it mattered little -- the point was that they'd left the old woman alone. ] I knocked the teeth out of one of them. Well, just two teeth, but. They were harassin' an old lady down the road.

[He was already chewing on a second piece of orange, not particularly one to savour a meal, even a special one like this. He liked having the taste on his tongue and lips, like the sweet juice hitting his belly. It was a texture that one didn't find easily in the meat in the sea. Everything was either soft or hard, never particularly sweet unless it was some water plants.

Oranges were his favourite. Steve was also his favourite land creature.

He nuzzled the smaller man more aggressively, humming a low two-toned musical note that failed to express the allure of his voice entirely. He still rubbed his forehead all over Steve's, bumping their noses and then doing that 'human thing' of rubbing his nose on Steve's cheeks, not even bothering to be mindful of the injuries of the black eye.]

Did you save the teeth? [He frowned and grunted unhappily at the mention of the victim. Matriarch's were to be honoured and protected for their knowledge and wisdom.] Young human males seem to have no respect for their matriarchs. You did the right thing defending her.

[That was not a compliment he gave often, if at all.]

No, I didn't. [ Steve wasn't in the habit of saving those things, much to Bucky's evident dismay, but he knew that the choice of victim this time distressed him more than the others did. Bucky's world prized the females more than the males, matriarchal -- his respect for the older females in society were bred from his own experience, for whatever it was worth.

He wrapped his arm back around him again, eager to comfort him as he gently crooned, addicted to Bucky's soft musical hum, to his open expressions. He rubbed his cheek back against him before he pressed his lips against his cheek. One soft kiss. Another.

Bucky bumping against his black eye made him wince, but it didn't matter, not when he'd pretty much heard what was the highest of praise. ] Hey. Hey, it's okay. [ He smiled a little. ] That's a first I'm hearing from you.

[He knew that Steve didn't particularly value objects of conquest as much as he did, but even he only had a very small collection. There was nothing to take from the creatures that he ate most of the time, no particular challenge to that hunt. He only took prizes from those that were challenges or perhaps as minor gifts for Steve.

He almost forgot his orange in the face of Steve's comfort, nuzzling as he had seen before he peeled off of slice of orange. He turned one end in his teeth and leaned forward for Steve to take the other half.]

Lure them in next time... I'll see they learn respect.

Can't teach them respect if you eat them, Buck.

[ Steve told him, all sass. He liked the little gifts that Bucky saw fit to give him from time to time. Small baubles that interested him, items from the tea -- sometimes even here, too; complete with a proud footnote from a pleased merman if that person had been particularly adversarial. Steve'd chided him about that one when he could.

He took the other half, coming intimately close so that his lips just barely touched Bucky's own, feeling a warm tingling down his spine at the brief, butterfly soft contact. The burst of flavor in his mouth is welcoming, but it mattered little in the face of this impromptu, unexpected little kiss. ]

It tastes good.

Who said I would eat all of them?

[He frowned and shook his head faintly in disapproval because he knew how to imprint lessons on the typical average male who Steve engaged with. Most of them were cowards, screamed like terrorized seabirds and floundered like a land creature unable to swim. All it took was circling them and bumping them around a little to impress upon them that their actions were silly. No one believed their weeping tales of him anyway.

He made a soft pleased noise when Steve grasped the other half of the slice and they bit down together, separating it evenly. His lips brushed against Steve's in return, finding a tingle run down his spine.]

You taste good with orange on your lips. [He moved in a bit more boldly but with an air of complete curiosity as he pushed his lips against Steve's, using his tongue to taste both flesh and the remnants of orange. Yes, that was a wonderful mixture.]

I was joking.

[ Steve told him gently, smiling as he drew him closer. Bucky was a lot more unpredictable as far as everything goes, but Steve -- well, he loved him anyway. He'd seen his heart, his innocence, the sweetness that he carried with him. And when he made that soft little noise, he parted his lips a little more to invite him in to explore.

Steve tasted the copper tang of blood, just a little, but there was the nearly overpowering flavor of oranges, too. His heart raced, anticipation and excitement both, and right here, no one can see them. ] Mm -- keep kissing me, Bucky.

[There was the soft shift of his soft scales against the rough cement, drawing his lower half in closer to Steve in a subtly protective gesture as he kissed the other boy. There was something very soft and alluring about Steve's lips, like they drew out something in him that had never previously been described when dealing with another. His fingers abandoned the orange safely to the ground so that he could cup the other boy's cheeks with his palms, ever careful of his claws as he deepened the kiss.

If he was concerned that Steve's blunt cow-like teeth would fix on his tongue, he gave no sign. Instead, he found himself curiously exploring this new action between them. Steve tasted like orange and other human foods that he hadn't yet tried himself. There was a tinge of blood, no doubt Steve's from the cut lip. He pressed closer and harder, enjoying the sensation and only withdrawing when it seemed prudent to breathe again. He huffed and sighed, peering at the other boy.]

What is that called? I see people on bridges and near waterways do that. It's very nice.

Kissing.

[ Steve grinned, hopelessly fond of him, and his heart racing at the gesture of affection -- he loved the way Bucky tasted and felt against him, felt something in him curl warm in the pit of his stomach, a pleasure that he cannot help. He felt Bucky come closer, the sliding of that tail like a snake's across sand.

A hand came to rest on those lovely scales, because no matter what it was Steve loved all of him anyway. He thought about it for a long moment, trying to explain it in proper form to him. ] It's what you do with someone you have very special and good feelings for. [ He smiled a little, and licked his own lips. ] But you can't do that with just anyone. Does it make you feel good?

[He considered the single word, able to translate it with what he knew the underwater equivalent to be. It was one of the few times that a human word sounded as alluring as the gesture itself, and it seemed to him that Steve enjoyed that as much as he had. That wasn't rare since there were very few things that Steve seemed to enjoy less than he did.

The light expression took away some of the abuse that showed on the other boy's face, and he nestled his chest against Steve's arm. He hummed a new musical note of approval at the touch to his scales, smiling his feral smile in response to it, his scales bristling approval before smoothing again.]

Under water, there is a similar gestures that potential mate pairs do to show their interest in one another. I don't think they press their tongues into one another's mouths though. [He admittedly had never been close enough to look.] It makes me feel warm inside. Do you feel good when we share oranges and kiss?

[ Potential mate pairs? He thought they were potential mate pairs? It's telling, and it made Steve smile just a little wider, although the cut on his lip ached at that gesture. He wasn't sure if Bucky understood the complexities of love, or what it meant to be in love with someone -- to be of the same gender and do the same.

They would be wrong here, in this place, in this time, but when Bucky's scales bristled and soothed over with contentment, he knew that he wouldn't want to be anything or anywhere else. He wanted to make him sing again, and so Steve continued stroking the scales, smooth and brilliant in the light. They were so beautiful, so very captivating -- imagine how much better they looked in the sea. ]

What do you do underwater? [ He can't help but be relieved, happy, cheeks pink with pleasure. ] It makes me feel good, too. [ He paused. ] You make me feel good.

[He hadn't considered himself and Steve to be anything close to mate pairs because males were not aggressors in his world. They showed up at the great currents when the season was right and performed all the tests same as the women, judged by the matriarchs who were no longer able to breed. Their performances, skills and survival instincts would win them the attention of potentials. He was too young to be considered to be anything but a gangling youth, not yet mature or worth considering.

Steve never made him feel too young. They were very similar in age and while Steve physically didn't show it, the other boy was clearly in the same sort of oddly gangling youth stage, not yet considered a man completely. Steve was the only thing on the land that he cared about.

He shivered at the stroke to his scales, his eyes half-closing in pleasure as the muscles contracted beneath his hide.]

We swim the great and most difficult currents in groups. And if a male performs well and proves himself, a female might approach in interest. They will court with kisses and rubbing scales, and she will decide if it is a match. [Even in the dark and for the first time, his cheeks flushed bright pink.] ...and matches twine together and make babies.

[ Steve considered that for a long moment, stopping his stroking as he thought of that, an odd sort of heartache in his chest when he realized that yes, this would be part of how it would go.

Bucky would find a female he liked, and make babies with her -- Steve could never get between that. He wouldn't want to. He took in that pretty blush on his face, tempted to kiss it away or make it darker, and he thought of him and another female locked together in a mating dance.

Was he jealous? Maybe a little bit. A very little bit. Carefully, he asked. ] Would you like to have some someday? Babies, I mean.

[He rubbed his cheek quite suddenly on Steve's shoulder as if that might remove the pigment from his skin. His tail also tightened around the other boy's waist, and he quickly retrieved the last half of the orange and began to pull it apart into its separate slices for something to do.]

Me? I'm not sure. There's never a guarantee to being picked as a match. Female family groups are very... independent and protective of one another.

[He suddenly looked at Steve, aware that human mating worked differently. He hadn't seen it, but there had been a few close calls where a male and female had fumbled with their clothes under a bridge.] What about humans? Are you going to make babies when a female picks you?

No one's going to pick me. [ Steve told him wryly, like it's a fact of life, and it is. No one wanted someone small and sick; everyone wanted the handsome ones, the solid, strong ones who could keep them safe. He knew it, of course; it was hard not to.

He snuggled closer, starting up to stroke his scales again, the smoothness of it, sleek and slippery. He thought of Bucky's world, where he'd come from, and he frowned; it seemed weirdly lop-sided. ]

Can't you pick anyone?

But you have so much... um survival strength. [He wasn't certain that was the right term in the human language, but Steve had proven himself over and over to not be able to stand down from a fight. Surely that refusal would be attractive to a female? It wasn't just about physical qualities after all.

He tilted his head at the question and then offered Steve a slice of orange before chewing on one himself, contemplating the answer. His scales were softening under Steve's grip as they almost finished drying out.]

No, males are not allowed to pick a female. They occasionally form um... bachelor groups. I heard songs of males practicing mating with each other so they would know what to do in case they were chosen.

[ Steve took the orange with a quiet word of thanks, his hand resting on his drying scales as he took that little fact in. It astounded him how vast his culture was, how different it was from his own, and it fascinated him.

He smiled just a little. ] Males can't be with males here. [ He exhaled. leaning his head against Bucky's. ] They say it's wrong, and you get punished for it.

[ But how wrong could it be, when he felt so strongly for this boy with him? ]

[He had known and watched Steve enough to know what those little smiles really meant. They were opposite to what they were supposed to, like when Steve picked fights over cats or the abuse of a matriarch.

Instead, he peered at Steve for a long moment, chewing thoughtfully on his orange.]

You can't make babies with another male, but how will you know what to do with a female that chooses you if you've never practiced? At least, that's the argument I've heard. [There was not particular punishment though for his people.]

Do you throw punches at those people who say it's wrong too? You look like you disagree.

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