by C G Dalton
“No, you couldn’t. You would just have a very odd leather coat and I would feel very violated,”Fisksaid. It was a great leap of faith, entrusting all this to a human he barely knew, but Fisk’s psyche cried out to be loved, and consciously he wasn’t sure he could dwell any longer under McMare’s thumb.
“You said it was genetic, that all the Kinney islanders carry the gene. You’re a scientist, right. Have you, has anyone, done any testing on this? Because this right here... if I hadn’t seen it with mine own eyes... this just isn’t possible.” Boyd sounded sincerely confused.
“No, no testing. I never pursued looking at my own genetics even when I had lab access at school. I considered it, but rejected the idea because I didn’t ever want anyone else to come across my research. Also, a single specimen, me, wouldn't necessarily give any conclusive results. No one here would ever agree to giving additional samples. Rightly so. Who wants to be discovered as a new species and end up in some secret government vivisection lab?”
“That’s a little paranoid.”
“Maybe, but I’d rather not test that theory. At least no more than I have by revealing myself to a federal agent now.”
“The X files aren’t my department,” Boyd joked, trying to lighten Fisk’s mood. “I think you'd have a hard time trying to explain the fact you can take off your skin scientifically anyway. That’s just... I don’t even know. Magic?”
“A lot of currently explainable phenomenon were seen as magic or as miracles once upon a time,” Fisk said, ignoring the crack about the popular television show. He didn’t move when Boyd stretched out on the floor beside him and wrapped one arm around his bare midsection.
Boyd looked at Fisk, a slight smile playing over his lips. He’s not actually human, his relatives would love to see you dead, and he might be crazy. Falling for him would be pretty damn stupid. But he knew that rational thoughts couldn’t control his feelings or erase the fact he was very drawn to the selkie. Another revelation occurred to him and his lips tightened into a scowl. “When he said to make sure you hide your hide. That was a threat to take your skin.”
“Yes,” Fisk whispered. “But I’ve always kept it with me and guarded it well. I’ve had to. Even regarded as a troublemaker and a weirdo, the fact I’m a full selkie and can change makes me a desirable mate. I won’t cooperate by choosing a wife. Any girl who got my skin could force me into marriage. Yes, it has been attempted. Yet another reason I don’t live in the village. If McMare took it, he would just use it to torture me.”
That decided it for Boyd right then and there. There was no way in hell when that boat came to get him that he wasn’t taking Fisk with him. Not even if he had to steal the selkie’s skin and compel him. He gave Fisk a rather chaste kiss then got to his feet, holding his hand out to help him up.
“Sleep now. Tomorrow we’ll talk about this more,” he said, smiling as Fisk picked up his skin and folded it.
Normally Fisk kept it either under the mattress or stuffed inside the cushion of his chair, depending on whether he was sitting up reading or in bed for the night. It was always close at hand. Today had been very disconcerting; both Boyd’s short game of keep away and McMare’s very real threat had made him wary. He slipped the folded pelt right under his pillow before crawling into bed.
Stripping to his boxers, Boyd slipped in beside him. He lay facing Colwin, settling one large hand on his still bare hip. “Goodnight, Fisk.”
“Goodnight,” the selkie murmured, his hand slipping under his pillow to rest on his hide.
CHAPTER FIVE
Fisk could definitely get used to waking up with Boyd draped half over him, though he knew he shouldn’t. Eyes half open, he waited for Boyd to rouse, in no hurry to move.
It was terrible, to feel such a push and pull at the same time. He had been attracted to Boyd the moment he saw him on that ill-fated sailboat, and it had only intensified since. But Fisk knew Boyd’s presence on the island was only going to cause more trouble. He smiled when Boyd’s eyes cracked open. “Morning.”
“Morning,” Boyd rumbled, voice still heavy with sleep. Half sitting up, he looked down at Fisk, happy that this time waking beside him hadn’t sent the selkie scurrying away. He couldn’t resist Fisk lying there flat on his back smiling up at him, and didn’t even try. Leaning back down, he pressed their lips together.
Humming, Fisk’s hands moved to Boyd’s shoulders, kneading at the thick muscles as they kissed. In his head he thought about how much more Boyd’s departure would hurt the closer they got but decided he would rather spend the next four days in bliss while he had the chance than never know Boyd at all. Fisk trailed one hand down Boyd’s spine, relishing the smooth feel of the dark skin beneath his fingertips. When his digits encounter the band of Boyd’s underwear they slid beneath to mould to the curve of one round cheek.
Pausing, Boyd pulled back enough to look down at Fisk. Their eyes met and they both smiled. “Tell me this is what you want,” he murmured. Even though the hand resting on his ass was a good indication they were on the same page, Boyd wanted to hear it.
“From the moment I saw you sailing along my shore,” Colwin replied firmly.
Boyd’s smile turned into a leer and he dropped his face back down to Fisk’s, their mouths colliding in a swell of ardour. He could feel Fisk’s cock hardening against him, his own beginning to strain against his boxers. He moaned into the kiss when Fisk pushed the underwear down, freeing his member.
Fisk rocked his hips up into Boyd, their bodies undulating together as they warmed, seeking friction from the contact. They did no more than that, content in the taste of each other’s mouths and the feel of sweating skin on skin until, one after the another, their tension burst.
Panting, Boyd moved to the side, his arm automatically wrapping around Colwin’s waist, oblivious to the sticky mess they had made. He didn’t say anything, just propped himself on his other elbow and gazed at this saviour turned lover. He knew what he wanted to ask, but it was too early to try and use the forming bond to try and pull Fisk away from Kinney. It needed to be nurtured more first.
He felt no guilt even as he plotted how to manipulate Fisk into acquiescing, because he believed it was for the best. Boyd’s desire to take him away was not misplaced altruism. He genuinely wanted Fisk for himself, not merely to return the favour of saving his life. In short, Fisk was in a bad place, and Boyd was going to get him out of there and to where he belonged. Namely with Boyd and anywhere but Kinney.
“We should go to for a swim. Though only bathing in saltwater might not suit you. You can wash with fresh water from the rain barrel afterward,” Fisk offered, his face soft as he studied Boyd’s features.
“Okay.” Boyd nodded, though he didn’t move a muscle until Fisk slipped out from under his arm and off the bed. Only then did he rise as well.
Still nude, Fisk dug some breakfast bars out of the cupboard that had come from Boyd’s food stash. He tossed the agent one and opened another for himself. Used to being alone for months at a time, he was quite comfortable naked, sometimes going days without ever dressing. It was more convenient not to have to strip when he wanted to switch forms. That ease was returning now that he and Boyd had become intimate.
Unwrapping his bar, Boyd set the wrapper in the small rubbish bin near the hearth. Eating it, he watched Fisk do the same.
“You know these are actually pretty terrible for you,” Fisk said between bites. “They are too low in fibre and have too many calories. Most of whichcome from processed sugars. Research has suggested links between the excess consumption of refined sugar and higher blood fat. It could be responsible for spikes in your triglycerides and lowering your HDL level—”
“They taste good and won’t kill you in moderation,” Boyd interrupted, winking at Fisk. “And back home I wouldn’t eat these. It’s camping food, baby. Out here in this rustic ass cabin that’s exactly what you’re doing. Camping.”
Fisk merely answered with an exaggerated sigh. When they fi
nished the light meal, he fished his hide out from under his pillow and tuck it under his arm.
“The water might be chilly for you even though it’s summer. If you start to feel cold, say so, okay?” Fisk instructed, heading for the door and expecting Boyd to follow.
There was a brief hesitation. Fisk might understand how isolated he was and not care, but Boyd went to his bag for a pair of cargo shorts. He wasn’t traipsing around outdoors in the nude. Just in case, he grabbed his holster as well, wrapping the gun in a towel and tucking it under his arm, much as Colwin had with his seal skin.
Fisk was waiting just outside the door. “You know there is no one within miles but you and me, right?” he teased.
“I totally would believe that if Mr. Leopard Seal hadn’t kicked your door open yesterday,” Boyd pointed out, frowning in response to Fisk’s wince at the reminder. “Sorry. But that’s a fact. We aren’t really alone out here and it’s a hostile environment.”
Sighing, Fisk nodded and turned up the path to the beach. Boyd was right. “You know I could go months without seeing another living soul before you tried to drown in my front yard,” he teased half-heartedly.
Boyd grimaced. He was fairly certain Fisk wasn’t blaming him intentionally, but the truth was the extra abuse was because of his presence and he knew it. “Sorry, Fisk. I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”
“Cyril, it’s worth it to have you here for the time being.” Fisk turned to look at Boyd as they walked up the path beside each other. “It really is.”
“Thanks,” Boyd said, reaching for Fisk’s hand.
When they reached the small sheltered strip of sand, Boyd sat and kept watch over Fisk as he slipped into his hide and lost his human guise. He had rather hoped to have the man playing in the waves with him rather than the seal, but he understood why Fisk would be hesitant to leave his skin alone on shore.
Despite not having Fisk in the form he preferred, Boyd enjoyed the swim. Fisk was graceful and joyous as he flew through the surf, sometimes towing Boyd, other times splashing and cavorting around him. They played in the waves until Boyd’s teeth were chattering and he began to shiver, causing Fisk to herd him ashore.
Sitting on the beach again, his towel wrapped around his shoulders and holstered firearm resting under his palm, Boyd watched Fisk reverse his transformation. Now that he had seen the process a couple times, he watched without fear, though it still gave him an odd chill. Fisk could say what he liked about them not yet having the science to explain it, Boyd was pretty sure it just wasn’t natural. It didn’t stop him from adoring Fisk.
When his lover was very nearly done, a movement in the water caught Boyd’s eye. His fingers clenched around his gun, unsnapping its holster as the great sleek spotted head rose from the shallows. So that was what a leopard seal looked like in person. Boyd wondered how a human man had filled that skin. Fisk was big in his pinniped shape, but McMare was monstrous. Boyd drew the firearm from its black leather cover and leveled it at the larger seal.
“Don’t come ashore, man. I’m pretty sure if I blow you away looking like you do now I won’t face any consequences. You just swim along, Sheriff,” Boyd called to him. He had to force his hand to stay steady when the beast bared a row of teeth like that of a bear before snapping its jaws shut, lazily diving and swimming off.
Fisk groaned. “I really hoped he would just leave us alone,” he saidas he slowly sat up and began to fold up his skin. “You can’t stay. One of you will end up dead and I can’t live with the possibility it might end up being you.”
“I’m not leaving you here with that... that... monster. I won’t do it, Fisk,” Boyd said heatedly as he holstered his gun, strapping it on and getting to his feet. He extended a hand to help Fisk up. “My ride isn’t coming back for four more days anyway.”
“Cyril, I have a boat. You don’t have to wait for that charter to return for you. I’ll take you to the mainland. I’ll even stay there with you till your vacation is over,” he offered as they started back to the house.
Boyd kept looking over his shoulder as they returned to the cottage. “Hell no.” He stretched the word for emphasis. “No way am I going out to sea in your little tin boat. Fisk, McMare is longer than it is.”
Groaning, Fisk hung his head. Boyd was right. If McMare came after them he could easily capsize the twelve-foot aluminium craft. “You’re probably right...”
“I am,” Boyd said.
When they got to the cottage Fisk showed Boyd a barrel beside it, a cistern to collect rainwater. It was the only source of freshwater on Fisk’s island. He stood and watched as Boyd rinsed the sea salt from his skin.
Boyd smiled in spite of his stress over encountering the sheriff in his animal form. He was positive it was unconscious, but desire suffused Fisk’s face, and it made Boyd feel good.
Back inside the hours passed pleasantly enough. Fisk had stuffed the hide back under the mattress and the pair spent their time lounging on the bed above it. They talked about their lives, getting to know each other better punctuated by soft touches and the occasional kiss. Every old story each had was new to the other, so time flew by.
{{{
“So that’s why I’m still working out of the field office. Though I’m thinking hard about that position in San Francisco,” Boyd explained as he took his turn to wash their plates after dinner. He was hoping to implant the idea in Fisk’s head that Boyd could easily be living by the Pacific shore rather than back in the Midwest. It wouldn’t be the first time he contemplated either move, but now he had more reason.
Fisk wasn’t very socially conscious. Even though he was a genius, he often missed cues from others, subtle hints passing right over his head. Boyd’s current line of discussion wasn’t really that subtle at all though, and Fisk read him loud and clear. It was tempting. But what if McMare came after them? What if he hurt Boyd? What if Boyd grew bored with him? Fisk doubted the gorgeous man was lacking in opportunities. Or what if it Colwin just could not fight off the homing urge of his birth islands? There were too many uncertain variables.
“Cyril, make love to me?” Fisk asked, cutting off the rest of the conversation.
Boyd thought about saying no, he knew he was being derailed at that moment. But he could see there was genuine lust and affection in Fisk’s face, so he gave in quickly, unable to deny the soulful gaze of those big, brown eyes.
“I’d like that,” Boyd said simply, drying his hands and turning to kiss Fisk lovingly before nudging him the direction of the bed. Before joining him, Boyd made sure the door was locked. He then took Fisk’s chair and wedged it under the latch as well. Though he was certain that wouldn’t keep McMare out long if he really wanted in, denying him the ease of merely kicking the door open would give Boyd enough time to grab his pistol.
When he had returned to the island, it had been half hoping this would come about. Boyd rooted around in his bag for items brought just in case the fantasy became reality. Coming back to Fisk, he placed three things on the nightstand. A box of condoms, a bottle of lubricant and his gun.
Fisk had watched with something between pride and amusement as Boyd secured the door and retrieved his supplies. As Boyd slipped off his shorts Fisk reached over, snagged the rubbers and tossed them across the room into the trash bin.
One eyebrow arched, Boyd looked at Fisk questioningly. “Okay... We don’t need those?”
“I’ve never heard of a sick selkie. Not so much as a head cold. We only die of old age or violence,” Fisk said, lying back in his narrow bed and holding a handout to Boyd.
Boyd hesitated briefly, studying Fisk’s features, before making up his mind. Nothing about this adventure had been rational, so why start now? He took the offered hand and slipped into Colwin’s bed.
Settling half on top of Fisk, one thigh pressing between his, Boyd sealed his lips over his lover’s. They kissed with more urgency than their easy afternoon make outs, heat surging between them as Boyd allowed himself to touch Fisk the way he
’d been longing to.
Eager as well, Fisk’s fingers raked over Boyd’s dark skin, memorizing the planes of his body. His body arching into Boyd’s exploring hands.
Touching and being touched, kissing the man beneath him, made Boyd’s whole-body tingle in happy response. He dipped his head to mouth the skin of Fisk’s throat, earning a shiver. There was a small voice in the back of his mind reminding him that Fisk was not even human, but it was overruled by the taste and the smell and the sight of him, so pliable and willing under Boyd’s palms.
Fisk had never been so aroused in his life as that moment. Boyd trailing open mouth kisses down his neck and over his shoulders had his heart beating so fast his whole body pulsed with every thump. He was hard, needy, as he had that morning he rocked against Boyd’s thigh.
“Don’t rush, cutie. I’m going to get you there. But not yet,” Boyd drawled. One hand pinned Colwin’s hips to the bed even as his mouth closed over a nipple causing Fisk to gasp, bowing into the sensation.
“Alright... okay.” Fisk’s voice was breathy. He collapsed back down on the mattress as Boyd moved to lip his other nipple. One hand curled around a handful of bedding at his side as Fisk fought to stay still, the other cupping the back of Boyd’s bare head. It felt so amazing to have someone pay attention to him like this again. He’d been alone too long.
Boyd took his time, exploring Fisk’s body with feather light fingertips and an eager mouth until he reached the centre of his sexual being. Wrapping his lips around Fisk’s cock and cradling his balls in one hand, he concentrated his effort, pausing only when the younger man became a quaking, panting, begging mess, close to losing control.
“Please, Cyril...” Fisk whined, language he hadn’t uttered in years coming to his lips in a desperate heated muttering. “Fuck... I need you so bad... need you inside me. Please.”
“Hand me that bottle, baby. You’re going to see stars,” Boyd growled, grinning as Fisk’s hand scrambled awkwardly for the lube and he thrust it at him.