Page 13 of Entranced By the Nakken
One word. Three syllables. The name he’d scorned all his life, and all his fear and amusement washed away in a flood of hot, insistent desire. His gaze shot up, snagging on the heat in Tsunis’ crystal pools, which were so much closer than before. He could feel their breath coming out in soft gusts along his jaw. Their hand fisted the blanket, thumb brushing the knob of Casey’s knee.
“Tsunis,” Casey breathed, leaning in, tugged by an invisible string, until their noses brushed.
“I want to hear your song.” Tsunis released the blanket from their death grip to place their palm on Casey’s chest. Violin-calloused fingertips grazed his pec, reminding Casey that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Casey wasn’t the type to fluster easily. He’d keptt love out of his love life for years. When Tsunis touched him with their bare hand, it was like the first strike of the strings when the bass is plugged into an amplifier, and the electric currents zoom through every neuron of Casey’s body. There was no universe in which he wouldn’t crave this ravishing creature’s touch now that he’d felt it on his skin.
The pause went on too long, and he could see the looming threat of Tsunis’ retreat. He covered the small, almost dainty, blue hand with his own, and closed the distance between them entirely, pressing his mouth to the soft curve where Tsunis’ lips met.
They didn’t pull away. Nails like claws sank into Casey’s flesh. Breath like the steam of a boiling pot ghosted over the shell of his ear. Casey rested his cheek against theirs, giving them the power, the fear of watching their fin disappear below the spume kicking back in.
The two of them remained frozen on the shore, the cascade babbling happily in the background for more breaths than Casey could count. Finally, he squeezed Tsunis’ hand andbroke away, bringing their knuckles to his lips and kissing each one before letting go. Tsunis looked at their hand a moment before using it to tuck a stray silver strand behind their ear. A splash of deep midnight blue colored the tips of their fin to the divot of their neck, the darkest shade of blue Casey had seen on them yet.
Casey cleared his throat, awkwardly resituating the keyboard to cover his lap. He had no way of knowing if Tsunis was affected by this…thing between them by physical glance, though he was ashamed to say he’d glanced at the smooth space genitals usually were on a person at least a few times when his dick was running the show.
“I’ve been working on something I was hoping to run by you.” A heavy weight lingered in his chest, but Casey forced a playful grin. “I promise it’s worth your time.”
“Hmm.”
Even their dismayed grunt sounded like music. They gave Casey a look that expressed their doubt, but, to his delight and relief, they didn’t move away. They moved closer, until their arm extended behind him, both legs curled up and under them as they lingered over his shoulder.
Deep breath. It was no different than playing with Sophie in her living room. With Tsunis’ breath ghosting over the sensitive hairs of his nape, Casey sang.
Chapter Seven
Tsunis
Tsunis stared at the human’s mouth, the spot where their own lips connected to their cheek tingling like the sting of a sweetwater eel. They balled their fists to keep from checking if it was puffy like a mate mark. The thought should be frightening, but Tsunis wasn’t afraid. They wanted more.
Then Casimir sang, and thoughts became raindrops that foretold a coming storm. Everything became clear in the center, with Casimir’s voice engulfing them, his spirit song so powerful it might uproot the oldest cyprus trees. The strength of it grabbed hold of Tsunis’ soul and wrenched them along for the ride.
They swayed with the force of its winds, falling forward. They landed on a hard surface and clung to its safety as waveafter wave of Casimir’s spirit raged around them. It was the kind of storm that tore through everything in its path, clearing the way for nature to pave anew. The kind of storm that remade worlds.
When the winds slowed enough for Tsunis to catch their breath, droplets had gathered at the corners of their eyes. The hard surface keeping them upright was Casimir.
“Hey,” Casimir whispered. He moved the instrument off his lap and shifted toward Tsunis, concern written in every line of his face. Concern morphed into horror when he noticed their tears. With urgency, he twisted, taking Tsunis in his arms and wiping the water away as though it offended him. “Hey, hey. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.” Tsunis barked, but it was weak. They allowed Casimir to wrap them close, so close they were practically on his lap. “Do not apologize for your song, Casimir.”
Consternation painted their human’s beautiful face. Their human. It felt so natural to say.
“But it made you cry,” Casimir argued. He supported Tsunis with one arm, the other reaching up to sift through their hair. It felt too good, especially when his fingers grazed their sensitive ear fins.
“The best songs do.” Tsunis bit back a moan as the tips of Casey’s fingers grazed their fin tips again. “Your song is mightier than the mountains of Glacis. I could drown in its depths and die whole.”
“You wouldn’t drown.” Casimir traced Tsunis’ jaw, his eyes full of mirth, not understanding how serious this was. “You can swim.”
“You’re impossible. The worst pupil to ever contract me.”
Tsunis’ gaze landed on their human’s smile, trying to gain the courage to replicate what they’d done earlier. It was some kind of human mating ritual. They’d seen others do it, facespressed together before escalating to more normal reproductive behaviors that Tsunis would recognize no matter the difference in equipment.
“In Glacis, my kin and I fought for music to be shared equally,” they shared through raw vocal cords, though they hadn’t been the one singing.
Casimir continued his sweet petting, grazing skillful fingers over the points of their earfin. Tsunis shivered and gave in to temptation, reaching forth to trace Casimir’s plump lower lip. They would inform him how intimate his touch unknowingly was. Soon. Not yet.
“Centuries ago, merlings fought merlings, syrens and nakkens alike. Kin against kin. The war with the krakki–similar to your krakens–is only the latest disagreement between water dwellers on how the waters and their music should be shared.” They were blathering on about ancient history, absently playing with Casimir’s mouth. They snapped their hand away. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Casimir’s breath hitched as Tsunis forgot to resist the temptation to lick their thumb where it’d touched his mouth. “I will listen whenever you have something to say.”
