A DNF Merman AU

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

~~◇~~~◇~~

George floats peacefully through the waves, lazily drifting between pieces of seaweed. The merman settles on the ocean floor, running his fingertips across the sand. A small crab scurries quickly away from him, flinging itself in a hole a few feet away. It's a fairly hot July day, and even as deep as he is, George can feel the warmth of the sun heating the water around him. He smiles contentedly as the soft motions of the current above him begin to lull him to sleep.

~~◇~~~◇~~

George is swimming along the surface of the sea, gently pulling some unidentified figure along behind him. They are giggling as they fight to keep their faces above the waves, struggling to continue holding hands in the water. It's nighttime, and even though George knows the water should be cold, the only thing he can feel is his own giddiness at the thought of being so close to someone.

Somehow, George knows that he's not allowed to turn around, that he cannot look at this man. It's an unspoken rule, a simple promise communicated between their interconnected hands. This, surprisingly, does not upset George. Despite not knowing who this mystery man is, George feels completely safe. He can sense their connection in the quiet gasps for breath and in the small hearts the figure is tracing over George's thumb.

Suddenly, a wave pulls their fingers apart. George can sense the man slipping further away, and he races after him blindly. After a few moments of desperate searching, George feels his body collide with the other man's. George quickly wraps his arms around his torso as their bodies turn and tumble under the waves. When they finally come to a stop, sand covered and breathing heavily, George feels the man pull him tightly against his chest. With a face pressed into the figure's neck, and eyelights tightly shut, the merman clings on like an opihi. He is so tempted to open his eyes, to finally be able to see the man in front of him, but he does not want to scare him away.

George feels calloused hands cradle his cheek, a damp forehead press against his own, and the gentle exhale of lips that must be only a few breaths away from his own. His heart stutters painfully in his chest as he realizes that in a few moments, he will finally be able to taste the man that has been haunting his dreams for the past year. He sighs in anticipation and waits for the kiss to come.

It never does.

Instead, he feels the man begin to tap. tap. tap. against his cheek over and over again.

~~◇~~~◇~~

George wakes up with a start, sitting up, and looking around desperately for his mystery lover, but there is no one in sight. There is, however, a small fish that, after a few minutes of distress, has resumed his irritating tap. tap. tap. against George's face. He sighs. I guess I dreamt about him again.

"Oh won't you fuck off?" George huffs at the fish and its incessant prodding. The fish doesn't. George, now resenting the fish that ended his dream so rudely, snarls his teeth and begins chasing it. After being such a total pain in the ass, the least the fish could do is provide him with some dinner. And so the race begins.

It's been about ten minutes, and George is STILL after that one fish. He's not really hungry, but he's definitely bored, and it's been a great way to pass the time. He knows that the fish is starting to get tired, and he pushes himself a little further to catch up. Just a few more inches, he thinks as he reaches out, so close he can almost taste it. Suddenly, he sees a shadow move above him. He freezes.

Somehow, while he was chasing his meal, he must've stopped paying attention to his surroundings. He must've followed that bastard fish all the way up, blissfully unaware of the rising temperatures and the warm rays of sunlight. How could he be so dumb? George has been up to the surface before, of course, but only during the night. He has spent countless hours floating along the waves, gazing at the shiny dots that sparkle against the dark sky. George knows not to go to the surface during the day. Although he cannot quite figure out why, his instincts tell him to be scared, to flee and pray to Poseidon that the creature is a slow swimmer.

George, however, does not like to listen to instinct. George is an idiot. A curious idiot. He cautiously turns around, looking for that shadow. Directly above him is the shape of perhaps the weirdest looking turtle that he has ever seen. It is long and ovular, with 4 disproportionately lanky limbs sticking out at strange angles, no head, and no tail. The oval-turtle is moving its front two arms lazily in the water while drifting slightly in the waves. After a few moments of watching, the oval-turtle abruptly turns around to face the shore and begins moving its arms quickly and powerfully, and it takes off! After a few minutes of the frantic paddling, the limbs disappear at once, but the turtle keeps moving.

Confused and intrigued, George pokes his head above the water and is surprised to see what is clearly not a turtle: a very, very (did he say very?) pretty boy standing atop a flat, round platform thingie.