by Megan Derr
clothes, but then again Seree had never understood why humans preferred to wear so many layers.
He got their breeches open with minimal difficultly and drew their cocks out, stroking them together, moaning himself when Aimé drew back enough to help, and it did not take long at all before they spilled, messy and wet and it was the finest thing Seree had felt in longer than he cared to dwell upon. He lapped lazily at Aimé's lips, relishing the flavor and heat of him.
Too soon, the chill of the air and water, the rub of sand returned to his awareness. Seree stripped off his shirt to clear away the worst of the mess, then got them both to their feet. Aimé fit against him far too well, and Seree floundered, not certain what to do with him.
Aimé kissed him. "So what brings you to land? My grandmother said warriors seldom rise to the surface, and then only to save their own or kill …" He drifted off and looked up at Seree—then stiffened at whatever he saw in Seree's face. "You came to kill me? I assumed you just came to fetch your sister; I could not puzzle out why you would linger so long when she was gone."
He drew back, jerking his arm away when Seree reached for him—but he didn't run, as Seree expected, just looked at him as though Seree had betrayed him.
Seree supposed that, in some way, he had. "My sister fancied herself in love with you and made a bargain with the sea witch to turn human when my father told her he would permit no such thing until she acted like an adult. But the sea witch being who she is … my sister had three months to make you love her or she would die. Her only other option was to kill you. Obviously, it was not a choice she could make. So I came here and took the curse in her place."
"So you freed her, then you were going to kill me to save yourself," Aimé said, and it was the calmness in his voice, the way he appreciated the logic, that cut Seree the deepest. "Are you going to kill me now?"
"No!" Seree burst out, furious. "I would not—I would not do what we just did if I planned on killing you! I'm a man of honor. I do not deny I have my flaws and have made my mistakes, but I still have honor."
Aimé nodded. "So you … you don't want to kill me? Does that mean …"
"I am trying to think of another way," Seree said stiffly.
"Oh," Aimé said, and he seemed to wither. He awkwardly adjusted his clothes and pushed his hair from his face, looking mussed, beautiful, and suddenly a hundred leagues away. "Um. I guess I should go to bed. Goodnight, Seree."
Seree opened his mouth, but then closed it again and watched Aimé walk away. Why did he feel as though he had proven himself a disappointment? He had nothing to prove to a human, no matter how unusually sweet or intriguing. What was he supposed to have said? Wasn't it good enough that he wasn't going to kill him? What did Aimé expect, for Seree to love—
Oh, no. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Savior of the Deep spare him the flashflood emotions of young people. They had known each other a week; only a young fool would think that time enough to fall in love!
Heaving an aggravated sigh, cursing himself for succumbing to a temptation that had done nothing to help the matter—it was clear who the real fool was in the entire debacle—he trudged his way back to his room to try and get some sleep.