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Ouma Kokichi's Records of Merfolk Mating Rituals

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There are strange happenings down at the shores, close to the tide pools with their warm waters. It began towards the end of the winter months as well. Now however, time has passed so that snow has melted. Summer is upon them all with gusto. Whatever lurks there now must gravitate to the persistent foliage and fauna. Kokichi hums at the thought of it- but he already knows far more than those who whisper behind their hands.

In his small but elaborate home town there's no lack of opportunity. The man could do anything, be anything, but his heart carries few real desires. He has it in his power to leave in favor of more opportunities. Of course, this seaside locale with its strong built buildings and winding stone roads is more than enough. Kokichi desires excitement and brushes with the unknown.

He has left but once, and so returned when his time at University had ended.

Sunlight and seabird shadows combat one another before him. Kokichi watches the gulls haunt boat, ship, and piers. The dumb yet crafty things slap their feet against wood, unperturbed by the bustle of human life. Cries of withering and sharp tones taunt the passers-by crowd. All the webfooted birds care for is the theft of food and discarded fish. Kokichi respects such lazy ethics.

Purple eyes stare out past the port and towards the far off reefs.

Mermaids lately, the people do whisper, don't you think they've been avoiding our shores? Do they not pass over the tide pools in favor of new territory?

Questions that sends selfish thrills throughout Kokichi's spine. No one else seems to know why the oceanic maidens have become distant. It turns out that most of the townsfolk are content to sit idly and discuss mermaids instead. Those beings only brush near the far off lighthouses now, choosing to sunbathe there instead. Playful laughter and wise conversation is no longer part of Kokichi's time at the beach. Still, what he finds now is more than enough.

Who is certain to be more accurate though.

Kokichi's lips quirk as he begins to travel down his usual path. As always, the man finds himself strolling down alleyways until he reaches the large archway. There are times when Kokichi could join in fanare or activity. With one mere step he could mingle amongst hagglers and gaze at anything from spices to trinkets. But the gate to the eastern shore is a familiar sight to anyone local. It is his goal as well, and so Kokichi doesn't dally.

The pathway is centuries old and lined with thick trees. All of which slowly disappear, their shade giving way to salty air and sand. It all lays before him, waiting, like it always does.

So for those purposes he walks down the stone path at a leisurely pace.

He often declines to use any route that would have him seen, and finds he doesn't dislike missing the sunset. Watching the colors play along water is fun, yes. It's exciting and something so grand that even seeing it each day can't become boring. Kokichi feels that the reflection and glittering is unique each time. Something impossible to capture with any paints, oils, or pencils.

But art is far from the man's true interest of choice. For him, knowledge is a more intimate pursuit. Yet he refuses to become involved with anything so mundane as mathematics or chemistry.

Humanity lives in concert with various other peoples, not all being ones traced back to the same origins as them.

Strange and delightful creatures lurk among the woods, horrors brush up from impossible depths- or down from atmospheric heights. It is both those and peoples of unhuman genetics that Kokichi seeks.

Not inhuman by any means of course. Such labels are used only by the ignorant. People who cannot tell two plants apart, let alone a five hundred year old carnivorous sea serpent from a mundane megalodon. Or perhaps a kraken from a giant squid.

Those reasons are why Kokichi so often walks to the shores. Always discarding his metaphorical shire in favor of the tide pools.

Rocks and sand begin to take over the landscape. Trees steadily thin while the man continues to walk, his shoes making not unpleasant scratching sounds again well smoothed stone. Each cry of seagulls makes him smile wider. So much so that his teeth meet the air. Kokichi takes in a deep breath of refreshing salt brine, noting that the absence of mermaids hasn't caused anything like an uptick in pollution or rot.

It has always been the case that humans and non-humans benefit from cohabitation. The presence of both leads to preservation with little cost to progress, and Kokichi is glad to have been born where he has. He knows well enough from University that not all places are so lucky.

Actually, he's ever more content for his 'expeditions' to be expected by now. There would be far too many questions otherwise. Neither something like 'why are you heading out around dusk each day?' nor anything else would be appreciated. Even a retort about research would seem odd. Doubly so in the eyes of people like Momota, who remember the days when Kokichi made his fun by running across rooftops.

Kokichi snickers and tries to ignore that he'd do it again if he could.

Unfortunately, for him only, the town has long since learned to make the roofs unwelcoming. It's not much of a shame though. He has so much more to do now that his University learning is finished. There's even the perfect project for him, all within reach.

As always however, the weight in his pocket serves a reminder. Kokichi almost grimaces just before his face heats. The shell is heavy in the pocket of his trousers. In the breast pocket of his button down as well. Pearls, of various shapes and sizes, but it remains that the comb is far more noticeable. Neither merfolk nor human craftsmanship is evident upon it, and still he finds it beautiful.

It is not every lifetime that a man finds himself courted by a very not human man.

For that purpose... there's no way to deem Kokichi's interactions a case study of a seldom seen human-like species. The man is quite frankly fine with that. A more personal exchange has worth as well.

But that's all just excuses in the end. Kokichi would be doing these things whether or not it gained him a salary, grant, or prestige. Everyone is more than aware of that. From the impeccably beautiful sea maidens, who take freely endless lovers- pearl diving women or sailors who have sworn themselves to the brine, or the old rich women who have had countless fish innards dumped upon them.

Ouma Kokichi seeks nothing like respectability from anyone. All he wants is just a few desires made reality, if any, like those of thrill and companionship.

Indeed does he place value in more vain goods too, things of fine make and beautiful materials. Kokichi prides himself in the ability to have such luxurious things now. Whether his flat, or gift type baubles of silver and well treated glass. He has not ever before been able to harbor such items for himself.

He stares down at carved stone steps. Sand dunes and tide rocks will await him after this, marked by a sunset. The waves will fill his ears alongside croons- and perhaps another fishnet crown will be wrapped around his head. A disaster attempt at mimicking human marriage.

Shuichi is quite skilled at learning though. Another try would likely turn out much better.

Purple eyes narrow into half-moons. Upturned and mirth filled, Kokichi's gaze turns from beach grasses to the smooth steps. He adjusts his collar as he goes. The air increases in both heat and humidity- yet a crisp breeze remains in the air. The tide pools never fully cool here. People of course abound with theories why. Kokichi, personally, believes that it has to do with the hot springs across the island. But he ultimately doesn't care about geology or whatever some call it.

The most important thing is how the tide pools are the most suitable place for Shuichi to reside. Or at least to meet with Kokichi.

Well-made shoes eventually find themselves abandoned. They are left at the very end of clear stone stone. From thereon Kokichi's feet sink into soft sands, and the man notes that the now distant mermaids still haven't led to a revoking of how pleasant the beaches are. Considering Shuichi’s presence replacing them though…

It's clear that Shuichi isn't a rare male mermaid specimen. At least not of the same genus that natively inhabits these waters. Both the water nymphs of the hot springs and the sea women appear mostly human. Their skin is of the same tone range as any human, the women have little differences beyond fish tails or fins, and their lives are lived to similar routines.

The foamy hisses of lapping water fully reach Kokichi's ears. He grins unabashedly at that, forgoing his leisure pace in favor of near leaping towards the tide pools. As always the rocks are rough and almost sharp. Yet still they do not cut his feet, the dampness does not make him slip, and Kokichi is so accustomed to it that he feels no discomfort. He has spent his entire life running along these shorelines and hunting the animals of these pools. The mermaids have laughed and opened abalone for him, welcoming his telltale lies for the innocent stories they were.

You have our blood in you, the eternally young women would whisper as a parting gift. So too would they run their fingers through his hair, like mothers, holding purple strands to the light.

But he has become far more of a man than a boy, and though they live for lifetimes there is not one mermaid who cannot fathom aging. They treat him like the adult and professional that he is now. Kokichi can't feel bad about it however- because he knows well enough that it was their care that shaped him. At times between the orphanage matrons and the school provided lunches too, it was those women of fin and song who fed him.

It is amusing to Kokichi that he again finds himself fed by someone with fins, though in an entirely different context.

A large, long, and winding mass of navy-black and gold curls halfway out of a tide pool. It subtly shines in the looming sunset, scales flowing up without the care to stop. Hands as well, and webbing between elegant fingers, the color of the nightsky. Even the knife sharp claws upon those hands are pitch. Shuichi’s body is almost entirely like a fusion of coal and sapphire.

Golden eyes snap right up to meet Kokichi's own. Sharp serrated teeth hide behind pale lips, but the human of the duo has long discarded tooth based fear. He has indeed inspected that mouth himself, in several respects.

Shuichi’s hands release the abalone he was holding in favor of waving happily.

Like always, it seems that the other man will decline to speak too much. It's not especially worrying nor abnormal. Kokichi suspects that it ties on with the almost sparkling sensation of hearing Shuichi’s voice. Although, he has spoken with sirens at University and been remarkably undrunk afterwards. Shuichi is simply of an anxious disposition.

The gills upon Shuichi’s neck flare momentarily. A display of excitement, similar to his many fins flapping against the water. Luminous eyes watch Kokichi grow closer and closer still, glances eagerly at feet which soon plunge into water.

Perhaps the mermaids who accepted his handmade messes are correct- and just like them is his love for obscenely beautiful things a hardwired trait. Kokichi can remember well how the diver women would bring over hard won pearls. Whether as lover gifts, tribute, or to ask that the gorgeous things be made into suit gifts for others. Such pearls and other gems would flow along hair like jeweled raindrops. Often strung together with silver strands, glimmering like dew.

A mermaid can create beauty from anything she gets her hands on. So too does she accept it from anything, to admire it, and Kokichi finds himself similar.

Certainly, at least, the man could use that as an explanation.

What an explanation it would be too. That he cannot help but find Shuichi to be breathtaking.

"No sketchbook for tonight," Kokichi breathlessly says, sitting down on damp rock. He glances up to watch as the sunlight begins to vanish. Then he looks back to the other man, eyes trailing down that long winding tail with no shame.

Shuichi is akin to a sea serpent in many regards. His fines are like sharp spines, threatening as though ready to cut. And they in fact cut- something that has earned Kokichi a good few scars. It's not that he can help himself however. Whether it be fins, the broad scales upon Shuichi’s tail, or the fine scattering that travels up even to the merman's face; Kokichi finds endless appeal.

It is no wonder to him that something of a romance has been born between them. A surprise, but far from an unfathomable event.

Kokichi reaches down to pull up the legs of his trousers. Then he gladly plunges his feet into the tide pool. Warm waters splash around him, and Shuichi soon pulls himself up onto the rocks. He smiles, trilling deep in his throat, facial fins twitching in the place of ears. Normally drooping, the things stand alert from excitement.

Comforting trills fill the air, and the wordless admittance of happiness is infectious. Kokichi leans in to rub their noses together- a strange kind of kiss that Shuichi has shown him. The man chuckles fondly at dampness and tender hums. So too does he notice that pile of abalone again. It doesn't surprise him in the least to see so many.

He has come here today for a very specific reason. The most logical conclusion, a fine result, and no doubt something that Shuichi has been looking forward to for quite some time now.

Two hands with fingers long and clawed reach down to an opened abalone. It has been cleaned and sliced as always. Kokichi watches with subtle amusement as those fingers gently pick up a slice. He has seen those same claws deftly cut into shellfish. All the same, those hand can rip the things apart without warning. Shuichi’s fingers, elegant and just a touch longer than the human norm, are essentially weapons.

In no way have they ever been raised against Kokichi. Were that the case, he most certainly would have not come here tonight. Though that too has caused some annoyance. His skin is fragile, pale despite time in the sun, but never before has that been tiresome.

Now however, the researcher is somewhat listless over it. His hands press down against the tide pool rock, mouth opening as that slice of abalone his brought to his lips. The meat is somewhat rubbery, as they always are when uncooked, but otherwise tastes of scallop.

Goals- the goal for tonight specifically...

Their mutual aim is nothing less than intercourse. Coitus. Sexual interactions, both of them simply want to fuck.

Of course there is more to it than simple pleasure, and Kokichi's mouthparts again as pinched together claws bring more meat to his mouth. They have done quite a few things together. Kokichi has allowed the merman's cock to wrap around his fingers. He has risked harm by tracing his tongue along sharp teeth. Indeed, Shuichi’s own mouth has done its best to provide relief.

Though Kokichi must admit that his sketchbooks and his journals are still overflowing with...

Night-black knuckles caress Kokichi's lips. They press against him while he chews, and Shuichi’s gold eyes happily widening when a tongue flicks against skin. Slick and clean tasting oil, faint, joins familiar abalone. Kokichi grins as those knuckles and their tiny scales leave in favor of rubbing his cheek.

"Well now, you truly have little shame. To see that you're already in the mood with just this," the man observes, leaning to the side and gazing down to Shuichi’s now obvious slit. Resting just around where his groin is and would be on a human. The mound is puffy now, unignorable, and starting to spread open to reveal pink wetness.

Shuichi’s gills flare and twitch, his mouth scrunching from embarrassment, "Yes..."

Just hearing that one word brings pleasant chills to Kokichi's spine. Goosebumps rise across him, and the man blatantly savors the sound of Shuichi’s voice. He knows that the merman is only here via necessities. It is not even an especially meaningful story. A simple illness with the side effects of activating some rare condition, that Shuichi’s body therefore after could not handle the depths. Kokichi still finds himself grateful.

The explanation is tragic but the outcome is not. Perhaps it is due to Kokichi's own selfishness. Still, he leans into the feeling of Shuichi’s hand and sighs.

Abalone slowly vanishes until there's but a smattering of oysters left. Shuichi quickly begin to tap them, tossing out a few, before sliding his claws right in. He rips them open with little hesitation. It doesn't take long after that for the wide end of the oyster to meet Kokichi's lips.

He eagerly slurps the things down until there's no choice but to stop.

It feels strange to turn this ritual into something heated. Like Kokichi is doing especially perverse an act, although he understands quite well the logic. Should one be about to pursue procreation then one should be well fed. To say that is to state nothing less than common sense. People do not reproduce well on empty stomachs.

Despite that, he finds himself blushing wildly when Shuichi sets down the rejected oyster.

Kokichi soon returns the favor, his hands holding up raw shellfish without a care. Two navy-black palms envelope his own- carefully, and that mouth parts to show endlessly dangerous teeth. Golden eyes peer up into Kokichi's own. Luminous, beautiful, dilated pupils growing wider as the sun further sets. For a man of the depths there is no end to Shuichi’s heart on sleeve expressions. His adoration is leaking through, for even his lips are warm with it.

But that too passes by them with each gulp. Strong neck muscles flexing, Shuichi’s eyes growing near smug with contentment. The merman is quite complex in his simplicity. Yet Kokichi cannot deny the satisfaction of every moment together.

Watching the shells be put aside garners a strange sense of loss. Perhaps Kokichi has underestimated the ways of which he enjoys these times. Company that is truly grand, after all, is a rare thing to find. A smile spreads across his face at that thought.

He hands soon find both pearls and comb, freeing them from their pockets.

Truly, he wants to hoard this man close to his chest. At so many times when they are apart as well. Kokichi cannot help his craving for such closeness and vibrant touch. Contact has grown to be a drug that tastes of sea and sweetness, bitterly. He has never before understand the complexities of love. Now the man basks in the tingling warmth of Shuichi’s hums, rumbling pleasantly his own, eyes closed.

Everything grows far too blissful in the quiet way which Kokichi otherwise hates. But here, only like this, he can admit that this almost solemn happiness isn't dreadful.

Pearls strung together by sinewy amber fibers embrace his neck. Kokichi loosens his shirt, button by button, and rolls his shoulders. It doesn't take long for the man to settle again. Turned of course, the man's back facing his lover. He finds himself almost grateful for the fact. Each time they repeat this ritual is an exercise in self control.

A smile like this cannot be contained.

Golden light begin to steadily glow as the day sheds one last breath. Romanticism is not Kokichi's forte, and yet he grows petal still at the feeling of smooth comb teeth. He would like to pluck Shuichi from this place and into closer waters. Perhaps the pier town where so many people in these relationships reside. Unrealistic, he knows, for the merman's presence still unnerves the sea maidens so.

The shell carefully runs down purple tinged hair. It is smooth, graceful in a way unbefitting one of such poor make. But Kokichi's fingers often trace along the lovingly carved thing. Combs are not so often made truly by hand, yet Shuichi’s over claws have obsessed over the once abalone shell.

Mother of pearl shines endlessly from it, holes scratched and smoothed to fit fingers- and fine teeth that are rounded gently at the tip. It was receiving that which made it undeniable their feelings.

Kokichi could never dream nor consider looking away from it. There was never a chance for him to turn it down, not when he too is so besotted, and not when Shuichi handed it up to him as though a lowly servant giving tribute to a King.

So the comb dives amongst strands the color of both black, plum, and amethyst.

And oh is it strange to think of himself in the ways that Shuichi will whisper. He shudders then, Kokichi's face pricking with an almost embarrassed joy.

It firmly and gently brushes against his scalp whilst the tide rises. Cooler waters enter the tide pool as well. They bring shivers of relief as the air gives up humidity, salt calming Kokichi's nerves. Shuichi’s melodious voice rises as well- welcoming the night. Depths which he calls home, Kokichi muses, they too must be so pitch.

Vortex sounds ramp up as the sea flows in. Not carelessly however, for the waves seem to adore their displaced son.

Water curls around Kokichi's thighs as though to kiss, dancing and caressing him with familiarity. His smile grows ever wider when he feels a tail brush past his feet.

Perhaps those obliging mermaids were right, hair full of silver and pearl with fins flowing, and Kokichi too is some homesick son of the waters. A flight of fancy grown by the lulling brought upon by ocean music. Of course, Shuichi himself is making the man feel as though he'll melt. It is so unfair to be treated like a treasure lost to sand and time. Kokichi's head falls back while one webbed hand gently travels, from holding it, until caressing his neck.

Kokichi then opens his eyes mere centimeters.

Again, molten gold reminds him that he himself is not the treasure hidden upon this beach.

"Ouma…"

That voice is like a sin. A violation of virtues that creates something sublime as sea knots come undone. Shuichi’s lips quirk just a touch too wide to match with human anatomy, his teeth showing with no shame. Kokichi's throat closes up from the thoughts in his head. He tries to close his eyes again, but they remain crescents capable of hinted sight. Lies would be statements of not too desiring all of the merman.

Shuichi’s body is that of a predator- he is not unlike the sly and slithering dragons which lurk in water. All of him is dangerous and well crafted for the deep, for hunting, and Kokichi cannot deny that he craves those things as well. Not all of him is so pure to be lusting after this care.

Yet too does then man feel as though starstruck now, unable to breathe merely from the sensation of a comb flowing through his hair.

His spine tingles unabashedly as though to betray him entirely. Everything about Kokichi's body feels over sensitive to the point of drugs. University was, if only somewhat in this respect, quite the exploratory collection of years. Though the man much prefers to be swooning over the way of which Shuichi’s earfins twitch.

Fingernails run across him, the smooth face of them, and it seems as though the endless brushing is over. The comb is slowly brought away from Kokichi's scalp. He watches it, but soon too brings himself back into a more proper position.

It is not new for him to straddle his abyssal lover.

But like this there is a new purpose to their act. No simply one of pleasures, or love, or even a filthily wholesome want to explore a person of different origins. Tonight is their night of more brutish and classical sex.

Procreation is the most boring inspiration needed to cause sex, but currently is it making Kokichi's veins spread burning blood to even his ears.

Abalone comb and clothing are both discarded in favor of bare skin. Kokichi chuckles while large and luminous eyes lurk upon his tan lines. There is nothing so transparent as the way Shuichi’s gaze drifts over him. Left far from them is abandoned shells, doubtless to be used later, and Kokichi's legs tremble despite his wishes. He feels still the whispers of his own fingers, but that is soon replaced by sturdy scale.

Their position is not quite as awkward as it may seem. Oh, somewhat of course- but Shuichi’s scaleskin back is braced upon rocks. His upper body is resting soundly and the rest languidly. For all the ocean born women that Kokichi has known, which is many of various blood and locale, none have just long or sinuous a tail as Shuichi. Indeed, it creates issues of posture. Although just as well do the other man's fins fold as if locked, airtight.

A finger rubs lightly against the hard bump of a folded fin, causing shivers. Kokichi feels them fully as his thighs squeeze against Shuichi’s thick upper tail.

Within full and private honesty…

Kokichi's first sighting of Shuichi was nothing more nor less than the merman's rump. Upturned into the air while Shuichi’s head was below water. He thusly assumed for a slip of time that he had found a strange mermaid indeed, though he finds himself further corrected even now.

Mermaids by all certainty do not harbor penile structures within their genital slits. At least none that Kokichi knows. Perhaps he needs to be more transparent during research trips.

Shuichi’s throat both fills with, and empties, an embarrassed groan. His glow too softens to something warmly dim. It is nothing less than spectacular, and Kokichi licks his lips. Purple eyes narrow as a hand traces soft patterns along scales akin to armor. Then he brings them around and closer to the prize here, pressure increasing. A hitch of breath marks Kokichi's fingertips meeting their mark.

The swelling mound of Shuichi’s slit welcomes him. A faint stickiness gleams as Kokichi's eyes note pink. Merely hints, and so the human squeezes his thighs once more. Smooth yet impressive fish scale, that cleansing oil, and overwhelmingly strong muscles; Kokichi is intoxicated already.

"It's fine, yes?" he says just to break the silence. Shuichi’s eager and bashful expression is so endearing. To the point of it being grotesque, what with how Kokichi's rational mind is so gladly forfeit. He smiles from that feeling as well, taken over while he speaks, "From now on until even sunrise. Us two shall mate as you wish, and I'll make you full with seed."

Gorgeous shudders force Shuichi’s body to tremble. His jaw grows somewhat slack as gulps of oxygen become more frequent. Shuichi’s finally reddening face is sublime, but it is his words, oh his sparkling wine words, that nail shut Kokichi's wave-devoured casket-

"Please mate me… empty inside of me, the way that we spoke of," the man speaks with a voice like seafoam whispering to sand. Shuichi’s earfins too are twitching and limpid, his entire body strung tight.

Clawed fingers reach down a pull that slit apart, gleefully and cutely ashamed.

It leaks out through his voice, that joyous and quivering tempest striking into Kokichi's heart. True love is often called anything from Godly Gift to man's greatest myth. Kokichi's fingers slip inside of a pure heat, such that he relishes the wetness of, and all his can consider is thus; that true love might be akin to the feelings conveyed by that voice.

Never before has anything made him so dizzyingly warm.

So with the way that those molten eyes grow so distant and wide, pupils but pinpoints in fields aglow as digits allow him time… Kokichi happily kicks his coffin into where Shuichi’s old home may lay.

This is his sea serpent, his moon reflector sea, this man of watery oblivion shall perhaps become the death of him. It is far from a thought of terror for the man. He sighs quietly, content to feel Shuichi’s body react. Kokichi slowly rubs minuet circles into the spongey texture revealed to him.

He does so often, of endless variance-

"Ah… more is good, please," comes a smoke like whisper.

-dream of this person before him.

Dragons are not so splendid or magnificent as you out shine you, Kokichi wants to say. He wants to bejewel Shuichi with gifts and tribute the same way he is already committing worship to his body. To rest upon the man all that the world deems most royal, the way that lovers do, whether it be sapphire or sea glass with copper wire or swirls of safe paints. And thus Kokichi attempts to imbue each caress with those thoughts.

To fill his beloved with each cravenly innocent wish.

Inside of Shuichi’s body is a growing slickness. Thicker and creamier than before, it flows out of him while Kokichi's deft fingers continue their duty. Purple eyes watch with exuberance. It mixes with the thinner emissions to form an even better substance. Kokichi would even dare to admit the scent pleasing, though perhaps another time.

Shuichi’s entire groin is almost puffy now. The same as his panting indeed, and Kokichi cannot help but wish to taste him. Instead he allows the merman's cock to finally free itself- the mass long and writhing in a way no humans's ever could. All along Kokichi's hand does the friendly thing coil. But soon Shuichi’s penis rests nearer to his navel.

Kokichi would have it within him, but the drenched length is not the object of tonight's obscenity.

Yet so too can he, learned well in the scientific method, not bring himself to stop experimenting. He brings his thumb to press against the base of Shuichi’s cock. The texture and feel are smoothly slick- but just as much are there filia or nubs. Shuichi’s tail thwacks against wet rock and disturbs the water. It seems as though the merman has not lied at all, about how his libido should spike from this act.

Licking his lips, Kokichi's fingers find themselves bringing clean and creamy emissions to his mouth. The taste is strange yet not offensive. It reminds him of human precum for the most part, but there is a hint of Shuichi’s oils as well as a tangy-sweet salt. Perhaps it is good that Kokichi adores anything odd of flavor which he can.

Shuichi’s taste itself could be a new craving.

Thus his fingers return to their exploration soon after he strips them clean of lover's essence.

"What is it, beloved? Do you not want to speak for me? Would you not allow me to drink in your ecstacy," Kokichi asks with little mercy, plunging deeper towards Shuichi’s throbbing core.

His eyes watch as that writhing cock slaps skin, as Shuichi’s muscles rhythmically tense, and oh does Kokichi hungry for the way those murderous claws grind into rock. Shuichi’s eyes are so wide that it becomes play to imagine what they must be like in the depths. Twin moons reflecting an inner light, pupils unseen as hunting hands bring prey to a knife point mouth.

Under Kokichi is a panting mess of flesh and scale, Shuichi’s body clenching tight onto three penetrating forces.

A loud and almost shrill sound fills the beaches. It reaches seemingly from shore to shore, breaking upon rocks and sinking into rippled water, haunting the night like an echoing keen. The sound fills Kokichi's blood with indomitable vigor. Causes his canines to bare themselves like proof of enjoyment, but no. Once more has Shuichi’s voice dove inside of him just to fill Kokichi with frenzy.

"I'll speak! I'll speak I'll speak I'll sp-speeeak-k!" the other man grits, eyelashes fluttering violently while fingers massage his inner folds. A warbling cry builds up within him, breaking out when another digit slips inside. "Ouma, Ouma please I do not need this I do not-"

More fluid gushes out in spurts or waves, hot to the touch and milky white. It is that which finally makes Kokichi pause. Shuichi’s body is just so enthralling inside. He is alternatively soft and then with clear structure, small pockets of false ends which Kokichi teases. Soft and gasping sounds come from both there and Shuichi’s mouth. Cute, and quite unexpectedly so. Kokichi has never considered that the sounds made when spreading someone to the air would be endearing.

Perhaps those locations are rich with sensitivity. Not meant for constant teasing, if the glazed look on Shuichi’s face can be used to measure that.

Should either option be true…

Kokichi's fingers sink their way further into wet and burning tightness. Farther, slowly, until his fingertips meet something round and solid. It too is smooth and covered with what must be that milky cream. The man is well aware of what he touches, what he circles gently.

Fins flare relentlessly while Kokichi caresses the face of Shuichi’s cervix. Both his earfins, pitch black, and the normally flattened ones on his tail. Purple eyes glance at the leaking cock before him as well. All of Shuichi is alive from this stimulation. Like the newly harnessed electricity which is spreading across the town- or perhaps like the same heat which has infected Kokichi's blood.

He grins then, "All in here, this place of which only I've touched. I should think to see it someday as well. To have you before me like this again, your mind so hazed by needs and wants that you can't understand a word I say."

"Already… cloooose!" it is a tortured kind of hiss, born from unhuman throat and mouth.

Truly it appears that neither of the men have ever been stricken so. Which coils within Kokichi like the baseless pride it is. Lurking, sinking, a dark little joy in that he has never before understood the concept of firsts. It is just as obliquely selfish as he thought. Yet his brain bites into it with glee. He shall be the first to do this for his beloved.

So too in time will Shuichi know this strange feeling however, and Kokichi wishes for that to happen post haste.

"You are beautiful, always, and to give me this of you," Kokichi bites his lip.

Digits covered with endless secretions once more leave their desired home. They now find place against Kokichi's well ignored cock, and the fluids spread across his length. It is not lost on him the salaciousness of doing so. Shuichi’s arousal is around him now, performing service as lubricant, and the man notes a strange eroticism to that fact.

"We need no titles among us. You will gain your own soon, and Ouma is nothing but my familial name as well- which soon it will not be," the man says instead. It is a confession on its own too, of course. Shuichi’s kind only use last names when they head a family.

The remembrance of which sparks something intent within Shuichi’s lust filled gaze.

"Kokichi will," the merman groans rapturously, "Kokichi will be mine now, Kokichi will be my mate and carry with me."

The normally reserved and even shy Shuichi leers. It is swimming with delight, that strength sapping smile, that delirious exposure of a metal-shard maw. Kokichi recalls yearningly his dreams of feeling those teeth with his tongue. Yet Shuichi is antithesis to his danger bleeding appearance. As both a man and more he is too gentle, for even now the deep sea claws upon his hands cling to matching black-blue scales.

Shuichi is stuck tight to himself and within himself. There is no doubt that Kokichi shall send him into a lustwild state.

"And I will take that name of yours as my own. We will bare that name, Saihara, us both so tied. Perhaps too I'll share with you fair riches fit for the most prized of spouses? To adorn you with what pleases your eye most?" Kokichi murmurs, readying himself while taking care to avoid sharp fins.

Pale thighs lift slightly as Kokichi changes his position. It will be an awkward start, but he cannot help but already grow assured.

"Your eyes, I want stones like Kokichi's eyes…" comes another hit of gentle flame.

It is that moment which sees Kokichi's honest loss.

Should ever the man's arousal be put in doubt then let be known, whether by verification of deities which are of exceptionally strong force or divinity true, Kokichi most certainly is now.

Kokichi laughs brightly at his own absurdist thoughts and says, "A dragon is what you are, fit for the skies as well as waters. So then I will be quite happy as your hoard. I'll let you even have me and Lord over me, to inspect me at leisure, to keep me in those hidden caverns where you rest."

He considers lugging once more his fine marble chess set to the beach. It is forever a treat to watch Shuichi go about learning to play, to see him carefully tend to his pieces. A treasure. Just the same as this moment, as that moment too was like this, a precipice upon which Kokichi's mind forms words from thoughtless emotions.

Love. Lovely, pleasure, heartpulse; assurance in the form one act merely seconds from consumption and thus consumption.

"But perhaps that is a lie of mine," the man finishes lowly, rubbing himself upon Shuichi’s entrance.

There needn't be an explanation more than that. Kokichi is prideful of his ambiguity, lessened since his youth, and knows well that his lover's mind is sharp. At least in the usual state of affairs. Shuichi being dumbstruck is not too unspeakable an idea. He indeed seems to be, by all means- eyes focused highly and mouth ajar. It is with that observation that Kokichi's cock dips just centimeters inside.

Sinking within Shuichi’s body is akin to rapture. The sensations are at once devouring of reason and tightly grounding. Heat overwhelms like a massive wave, roaring like a storm ridden sea inside of Kokichi's ears. A shuddering pair of breaths meet between the men. Both sounds covered by nature, and despite that they do carry, but it is nothing compared to the meeting of their eyes.

Inside is not dissimilar to what Kokichi has been told of stars which die and subsume themselves. He is alternatively destroyed and made whole. Shuichi too seems to feel the same, this objectively casual action turned religious, but Kokichi is unable to do anything further. What exactly could make him handle this soft hell- but the man rights himself again.

Art is truly what his lover is. But so too does Shuichi seem to be temptation the way that Kokichi suspected.

"Neehehehehe… say, Shuichi? How does it feel for you?" Kokichi slyly asks, unsure of what else to say and quite unwilling to admit it. He grits his teeth and slowly pulls out of the convulsing vice around him. "Mine cannot move like your own. Is it painful? Are we rightly compatible after all?

Gold and haze stare up into the man while a viciously lustful smile forms.

The merman grins fully and then whispers, quite obvious drunk on something, "Full. G-good! Kokichi's thing is-"

"You can say penis. Perhaps phallus, or merely cock if you prefer. Dick and prick as well!"

"Ha… ah!"

Whimpers join the sea mists which form around them. Chill night air combats the eternal warmth of the tide pools, and Kokichi cannot help but to find such things romantic. He lifts his hips one final inch, grinning back, until his cock remains just barely inside. Now he must in guilty admittance understand that Shuichi desperation is clear. That he away well is so embraced that there is agony within pleasure. So slight, oh so very, but Kokichi has a grand lack of complaint.

Kokichi thrusts himself back within the merman below him and moans strongly. Loudly, so absolutely without shame that he moans again upon the echoing. Shuichi is all those things which he has heard prized in regards to sex. Tight, hot, wet and well textured; but the most alluring part is without doubt-

"Please! It is good you are good, Kokichi, Ko-k- nhhhah! Ah, hhuah," and those arms wrap around Shuichi’s own shoulders with each shallow thrust.

It could be that Kokichi's cock is bypassing those dead ends. The man can quite accept such an explanation, for by all means it appears that Shuichi is even more overwhelmed than him. Or perhaps the merman is overcome by ovulation, sarcasm half intended. Any such possibility is something that drives them both forward with gusto.

As their time continues and Kokichi finds his hips steadying, his rhythm solidifing based upon groans and sharp squeals, each thrust reaches deeper. He has never before considered himself to be of great length. Comfortable in average, but it seems that the man is most large now. Kokichi continues to sink farther into his beloved treasure. So to does he let his mouth fall open as ridges, velveteen walls, and that creamy slick assault him from all sides.

But of all he cannot ignore the bump of Shuichi’s cervix against him.

"Really- haha! Hhnng, truly not bad then? You're both dimmed and glowing stronger than a spotlight," he forces out between waves of fever and panting.

Singing. All he can process is Shuichi’s endless, bone deep, and coy singing.

"Come… inside of me," Shuichi’s voice states with resonant keening. He writhes brokenly even as he fight for clarity, full gold moon eyes mere glimpses. And still the man's clawed hands are but fists clenched upon himself. "You have to come right here, won't you? K-ko-chkihiii?!"

A spurt of hot and watery is forced out from Shuichi’s body. It coincides with a rapidly brutal thrust, one that blatantly pairs with Kokichi kissing the entrance to Shuichi’s womb. He almost fears that their not quite matching equipment has caused pain, finally, but Shuichi’s head falls back to release a guttural and blinding sound. Kokichi's mind in that longshort moment blanks, ephemeral in silence, while his cock throbs painfully.

The culmination is what can only be called animalistic. Kokichi feels reduced to primitive instincts, of which many institutions have taught him badly of- but his body is rocking forward so sublimely and violently as to be perfect. He has never been thoughtless in his life. Yet now he is chasing after the wish to see Shuichi do that again.

Each thrust comes with blunt fingernails digging into armor like scale. So too, of course, is that Kokichi soon flies further. He slams his mouth into the one so close to his and sobs out his ecstasy when iron corruption fills their kiss.

More heat and confused warbling do invade, but no. Kokichi is lost now in full meanings. He could spill like water from a fountain endless possibilities of pure truth, he could give himself to be taken in all ways, oh he could lose himself in entirety. Shuichi if wanting should just steal him into the waters- Kokichi himself would try his mere best to swim.

It is an ache and a raging wound in him. This pleasure and not uncultured or cultivated need. A burning and unyielding thing which has him slamming closer, and closer, sight gone because his eyes at least still know repressed shame.

Kokichi feels the changes in Shuichi’s body. So too he registers hands wrapping around his back. Thus he wails appreciation when the slightest cuts trace into him. It is that which makes him go further into a frenzy.

Truly, Shuichi has stolen him.

"Need you… I need you please, you'll do it back, you will-"

"I will! I wiiiill," Shuichi hurriedly reassures him, voice reedy yet thick. "I'll make Kokichi feel this way as well!"

Affection rises until Kokichi's lips, cut just enough for a specific kind of pleasure, ghost across spasming neck gills. He feels for sure then a growing softness. Deep within Shuichi’s core as well, that special entrance which becomes more malleable with each thrust. The man groans drunkenly at that fact- feeling Shuichi’s cervix grow puffier and even more covered with creamy fluids.

Soon Kokichi finds that softness becoming a welcoming all its own. He tries to aim for it more and more, mind obsessed with obeying Shuichi’s pleads. Thin drops of blood run down skin. Indeed, it looks beautiful from what Kokichi can see with mostly closed eyes.

He meets each lower kiss with a more determined thrust, and his body screams at him to breed.

Never before has Kokichi been so adamantly full of such desire. It is alien and so revealingly monstrous. For just that second his mind switches back on, and the man feels an all powerful disdain that some would not fulfill this wish for procreation with just as strong a wish to enact good parenting. But that will not be a problem for them, and knowing that forces Kokichi's mind right back into a spiral- of mine mine mine more more more.

Unsteady trills sing their way past Shuichi’s mouth, those lips twisted into a relief filled contortion. It is the same for Kokichi's own leering smile. Yet they continue to chase after more of that relief, of that mind-numbing fulfillment and lust, Shuichi’s tail violently thrashing in the waters.

The moon is full and ever-present above the two men. It hangs as a dead witness, unhearing of each rising crescendo that comes of their meeting. A rendezvous which has Kokichi's body aching and basking in strange alterations- his mouth stuck open and his hips slamming down so much as to make him whine. Such pleasure is most certainly painful. But the man finds himself wanting to never leave.

Each noise crashes along with the nighttime waves.

Kokichi laughs from nothing less than near delusional joy. He stares up at his lover, his beloved and own siren singer, melting from burning heat and the sticky mixing of oil and sweat. The man can barely process how glazed yet ecstatic Shuichi’s expression is. But he would so like to kiss that razor-toothed mouth again, mewling once he does.

"S-Shuichi…"

Again something changes, the other man's innermost walls clamping down and causing obscenities to drift between them. The noises of their sex are everywhere now. Surely, Kokichi mumbles, anyone could hear. It makes Shuichi's lower body buck and tighten. From that there's no choice but to go deeper and deeper, Kokichi's cock throbbing within the vice grip around it, pounding into that slowly surrendering cervix. He can feel that hint of an opening widen as if to meet him with a kiss.

Places like that, even with the differences in biology, surely it can't be possible to-

Loudly and weakly does the man keen, eyes wide and teeth grinding together while the pearls around his neck dangle. The head of his cock is entrapped within a firm vice grip. His hips stutter while Shuichi’s verbalizations devolve in happy hisses, both of them guttural. Kokichi's eyes stare ahead with no registration of movement. No, the man is lost within a punishing kind of stimulation. It takes him precious and ragged breaths to realize what has occurred.

Convulsing around the head of his cock is Shuichi’s tight cervical canal.

Shuichi’s body writhes under him without a care, those careful claws digging further down Kokichi's back. The man whimpers at the fact of being so caught, arching into the hands tracing cuts down his skin, sinking further towards his lover's womb.

Rumbling chirps heralding moans curl into Kokichi's ears. He is besotted once more, lost and lost into the golden glows that blind him. Yes, he decides, body delighted by pain and sticky fluids clinging- this man will be the death of me. It cannot be far different now than before. Even so, Kokichi is so drowning that all of him feels so utterly like a drunkard. More than any siren has ever accomplished.

Water splashes against his bare flesh like bursts of relief.

He tries to begin that frantic cycle of sex once more. Alas, Kokichi finds himself stuck and barely able to thrust. Purple eyes widen further when two large hands, fingers so long and sharp, rest upon his rear and gently press him further down. It makes them groan and squeak like animals. Kokichi's limbs are finally bested by soreness and exertion. Like that he surrenders to Shuichi’s own guidance, their passion turning them into sloppy kissers- languid and lascivious both.

Inside like this is as horrifically tight as it is heavenly, feeling each pull and hungry grab of Shuichi’s inner flesh. There is no end to it. No release from stickiness that glides against Kokichi's sex. Shuichi’s core is as molten as any melted gold. From that there's no choice but to pathetically lick at the merman's lips, their roles twisted and the hints of teeth delicious. He desires too this kind of loving danger from the other man.

Such fulfillment is a delicious poison sparking flame within his nerves. Kokichi feels enraptured by unadulterated delirium.

Unable to speak, save to string along useless sounds.

"S-soft," the man mumbles while a long tongue licks away hints of blood, "Can't get ooout, Shuichi- Shuichi Shuichi Shuuichiiii!"

Pathetic. He has become so wonderfully and freely pathetic while Shuichi kneads the meat of his ass. Those nails poke gently into skin, even the tops of his thighs, and Kokichi's back arches from it. Shuichi may not even understand how he's fulfilling such deeply buried and masochistic urges. But Kokichi does, and the man's cock is pulsing endlessly.

This soft, lovingly swollen, and smooth place is some untouchable secret. Yet Kokichi cannot even escape from it. Shuichi’s slit is weeping thick lubricant that itself is leaking out past where Kokichi has fully penetrated far deeper. A jolt runs through his body when a tail blankets over him, Shuichi’s voice reaching extreme heights while they intertwine further. Inside the heat clings deeper, flesh massaging via strong contractions.

Never before has sex made Kokichi feel so wonderfully filthy.

He cannot adequately describe it. The does not wish to- it is a painful completion which begs him deeper each microsecond. Yet so too is the pleasure enough to drive Kokichi mad. So much for his fingers to uselessly claw and his tongue to unabashedly loll out from his mouth. No sounds leave him any longer, lest they take his last breath as well.

All the man can do is drink in the omnipresent hunger directed at his struggling person.

Like that Kokichi's hips tilt and his cock is welcomed further within- hitting against a mucous covered wall that gladly kisses him home. The opening of Shuichi’s cervix clamps upon his shaft like sublime torture. Kokichi's thighs tremble tightly while endless scales caress his body. He is made to pull back slightly and then hits home again, wailing with eyes rolling back.

"I can't! I can't I can't I can't-" hot tears blind the man as ejaculation rips out of him. Kokichi sobs thusly, but a voracious grin betraying him while his vision cuts. He can feel his own cum filling up Shuichi’s burning womb. Each spurt is yet another spark of flame fit to burn him alive.

Shuichi’s tongue dances with his own, coiling, chasing the muscle back inside of Kokichi's slack open mouth. Soon there should be nothing left of him. Kokichi shall cease to exist beyond this state of helpless elation. Perfectly.

Cumming right inside, filling Shuichi up at the root and fertilizing all those eggs-

"You're gonna to lay them all w-eithin me," Kokichi carefully slurs, going limp save for the minute thrusting of his hips. Emptying himself has never felt so The sounds of wet slaps makes him laugh, but envisioning the fullness has him gasping for air as heat and need press down. His hazy eyes drift into a most perfect contact. "Shhuiichi will… return my favor, yes? Make me gravid-full of our children, Shuichi is to- to-"

That dagger mouth steals language from the man's abilities. The tail wrapped around him coils and writhes as to obscure their independence, leaving nothing to be seen save a drenched mass of bioluminosity and euphoria.

Just a single grunt leaves Kokichi's lips as he gains freedom. Shuichi himself gently pulls him away, that clinging cervix twitching looser due to orgasm. Mutual whimpers fill the air just as winding coils come undone. Both human and merman trembling, moving together against damp rocks, but Kokichi merely fastens himself to Shuichi’s side. They lay together like hastily abandoned dolls. Absolutely, stings cut and bodies relentlessly abused in the name of enjoyment.

Needless chuckles spill forth from lips gently sliced. Kokichi's body curls around his lover and arches, aches and all-consuming throbs bringing him upon the precipice of self-drugged debasement. He feels as though the picture of degeneracy.

As if Kokichi's binding to anything proper that he has crafted, meticulously, is just as meticulously smashed on tide pool rock.

There can be nothing more ephemeral than this moment too, because it is Shuichi’s touch which both calms and enflames. Mournfully careful with not a hint of that wild abandon. Yet Kokichi eventually finds it again within those eyes. He fears that gold to be predatory the same as he fears himself desiring more heavenly ruin.

But Shuichi does nothing more than beginning to wash Kokichi's faint wounds. It is that which brings the sweet smell of blood to his attention once more.

Kokichi spends what feels like hours receiving hushed treatment. All the same, indeed, as his mind is still so lust drunk that each cleansing sting of water or inspecting tongue makes him sing like a slattern house fairy. It is shameful and embarrassing just to witness himself. Shuichi declines to question him, nor to speak judgment, the merman merely leans down his head to lap softly at wounds.

It could quite well be dubbed painful on multiple levels, as Kokichi's body is both stuck within the refractory period- and screaming for more overstimulation.

Perhaps his body cannot comprehend that tonight's game is finished. There's a moment where he doubles over from laughing at that. Where Kokichi wraps his arms around Shuichi’s bicep and nuzzles into him. Fine scales rub against his soft cheeks.

"Ah… I. I love you so much, disgustingly much, so much more than could be spoken of save for historical tales. Ones repainted by flagrantly irrational romanticism filled dullards. I'm a romanticism filled dullard, except more interesting," Kokichi idly mutters. He smiles sloppily while his shirt is used to identify away saliva, semen, blood and ovulation fueled emissions.

That articulate return to form is what sparks Shuichi’s body language to relax. He softens by becoming almost limber, revealing a tenseness that Kokichi could not fully detect it is a worrying prospect that is nevertheless obvious in origins.

"Were you truly so pleased by such touch? Your body is not so protected… and so I was always-" Shuichi swallows harshly, and Kokichi watches his tongue lick well bitten lips. No doubt tasting hints of human blood. Kokichi can tell, and so too can he feel the wavering flicks of concern, mixed with yearning. "I wish to touch you more, and so have made myself able to cradle you, but if you are not scared or even enjoy that kind of attention… would it be right to? The words for this cannot be said well!"

It is fascinating to see how Shuichi’s light dips and dims. How his emotions become as art with no hint of unnatural strangeness.

Kokichi leans down onto his stomach then, obeying Shuichi’s wishes while water cleans more cuts, "A word for it here is masochism, to receive pain or hurt of some sort and like it. Most do not see it so kindly! Shameless and shameful, you see, along with those sadists who enjoy providing agony."

"Oh! I see, then Kokichi is one?"

Such a pure and simple acceptance that makes Kokichi prickle.

"I'd rather say my tenacious need for excellence, and exciting thrills, has invaded my sexual inclinations!" the man jokingly protests, finding himself resting on Shuichi’s tail. "You see… the truth might be that your careful ways have made me crave your danger, my beloved. But who am I to say? I do not study sex. That route of academic pursuits was housing men chasing green fairies."

A moment of confused silence.

"They… wanted to have sex with fairies, specifically those green?"

"No no, I fear they merely drank unquantifiable amounts of abthsinth. Though I fear my mind cannot bring itself to recall those times within completion. You must understand that, as is traditional, when the sexologists threw parties we all had to go. Why- never before had I seen people who would speculate on smirugh phallus."

Shuichi squawks and growls, remembering his own brush with that 'devil liquor'. There's a distinct kind of laughter which then bubbles up from them both. Neither of them quite know if Kokichi is lying. Mostly because there were certainly sexologist parties back in University. Ones very traditional, housing at least some abthsinth, and very much wild enough for anything to occur.

"Perhaps worse than disputes over pet anglerfish custody," Shuichi decides once finished. He cuddles around Kokichi's nude body like a most adoration filled blanket. "Because male anglerfish will attach to females and become their testicles"

Kokichi first giggles and then quiets due to Shuichi’s voice itself suggesting no warm humor.

"... Truly? Those creepy things that have begun to be caught closer to shore?"

"Anglerfish are lovely when domesticated. Very good pets for children as they will attack any predators," the merman insists with a pout.

"The males become-"

"Yes…"

"My word, and I thought our sex was life changing!" the man decries while twisting over.

He ignores the soft noises of his lover and instead caresses at Shuichi’s navel. Then lower, firm yet light as pale fingers enscribe anticipation. Kokichi rests his head just below Shuichi’s own without a care. Presses a kiss to sensitive gills. Soon they will have children, something that Kokichi must admit makes him fret, little lives which can then grow into anything and anyone.

There's wondering at that- of whom he will help bring into this world and thus whom Kokichi shall give relentless care to. He has tried to never say how much he would like a family. Instead, he has shoved gift after gift of money into the hands matrons. Both ones of orphanage and school alike. Kokichi knows how they all veiw him of course. Only the blind would not see that they and the mermaids both, at least, are proud of him.

So too he would like them to be prouder as well. To let them see that Ouma Kokichi has both grown into a somewhat acceptable adult, and a fine parent.

Kokichi smiles smugly as the night goes on, held tightly while Shuichi tells him tales of a childhood that took place far- far beneath the waves.