shipping | psl

"...What? Kill - ? No! Dagon's teeth, n-"

Crowley's protests are stifled suddenly by a kiss. Oh yes, this is definitely closer to what he had in mind when seeking out a human. He'd been hoping for more conversation beforehand, but this is completely fine too.

His arms wrap gently around Aziraphale's waist as he pulls him close - oddly careful as he'd heard humans are very frail. And this one was a very important sage, which likely meant he should be handled with great care.

"Mm - that's very nice. But don't I need to - "

He gestures vaguely out to the distant ocean.

"- Bring you gold and jewels and things first?"

Oh, well. This was quite a lot nicer than he'd thought it would be, considering the fact that he thought he'd be pulled down into a watery grave with only his wits and the additional boon of being able to breathe without struggling.

He blinks. "What d'you mean, bring me gold and jewels? I've no use for gold and jewels, and I'm not some-- oh!" his eyes widen in realization. Ah, yes, the other sort of tale to be heard from the merfolk of the sea - the seducers. "Oh no, dear boy, I am no mate. Incompatible, you and I. I mean, you are presumably a man, yes? And I am a man, as well, I-- I know I'm not quite as manly as most of the sailors you might see out on the open ocean," he starts, gently attempting to unravel Crowley from around him. "And I'm very flattered, you see, because you're-- well, you're very attractive. The upper half of you, anyway, though I'm sure, if I were an eel, I'd be saying the opposite. Or not at all, eels don't talk, but, I..."

He's rambling. "The point is, I'm afraid you've got the wrong sort of human for um, mating. Won't have anything to show for it, nine months later." Not that he thought that mating was possible between a fish-man and a man-man, but well, there was possibly a reason that merfolk existed in the first place, and took on human upper halves. He wonders now, if centaurs are also real, and if they should've been borne from a man and a horse.

Crowley watches the human with interest as he disentangles himself from his coils. Such a shame - Crowley would argue he'd have quite a lot to show for it. Aziraphale was very pretty, and the status of mating a human sage...? He'd be boasting for years - perhaps even accepted into society instead of living on the fringes.

But he's not about to force the issue either, even if Aziraphale was the one to kiss him.

"No need for fretting, Aziraphale. Not here looking for a mate or dinner or whatever you're worrying about. Just got curious."

He holds up his hands, the universal disarming gesture.

"So why's a sage studying the ocean? What's so interesting about fish? You trying to figure out which are the tastiest? Because I can tell you now, it's salmon. Best you can get."

Oh, well. That was interesting. He was thinking that Crowley would put up more of a fight. They usually did, in the stories. Not ones to say no. But then again, Aziraphale had always quite thought it unfair, that sailors should blame sirens for drawing them to crash against the rocks, when they were just singing in their own territory.

"I do like salmon," he answers. "And tuna. Very good fish. Herring, when it's fresh, and even... pickled, yes. Mm." He supposes that human meat might not be to Crowley's taste, and may not be to his taste in another form either.

"But no, I'm just trying to study them to... study them. Don't your sages thirst for knowledge? For instance, we know very little about your kind. I'd love to learn more about you. We usually depict your kind as rather... voracious, for either food, or... a partner. So please excuse me if I've misjudged you. I understand we are usually known for exhibiting violence for sport, though I assure you that I abhor that sort of thing. I'm a pacifist," he says. "You aren't at all scared of me?"

"Nope." He pops the 'p' and puffs up his chest, as well as raising the red fringe on his black tail. A lovely display, he hopes, of how very courageous and handsome he is. Perhaps Aziraphale may reconsider kissing him again when he sees how pretty and well-kept Crowley's scales are.

"Not scared. Haven't seen a human around my little home in ages."

He settles down a bit when Aziraphale doesn't jump him, instead opting to give this lovely sage what he's thirsty for - knowledge.

"You aren't off though. Most of our interactions with humans are for mating. Or eating. Or both, when it comes to Sirens. The Great Old Ones think you're a hardy species and our blood's strengthened by mixing, blah blah blah, very dull stuff. But I'm not one of the Chosen for that sort of thing. Technically shouldn't even be talking to you, but who's going to know way out here?"

He rests his chin in his hand, eyeing Aziraphale up and down.

"Why'd you kiss me anyway? If you're not actually. Y'know. Interested."

"Do your kind kiss as well?" he asks. "Fascinating." He thought that was a purely human thing, to kiss. Though perhaps they'd learned it from the humans. After all, humans did like to kiss, even those "Chosen ones" who would lure them to their deaths.

He shakes his head. "Yes, sorry, I kissed you because I'd heard that kissing a merperson would allow me to breathe underwater. I don't know if it has to be willingly given or not, but you know. It was still when I had thought that you might want to kill me."

Crowley is indeed very handsome, though, Even without raising the fringe on his tail, though Aziraphale assumes it's some sort of display of strength, instead of a mating ritual.

"But that's not to say... I mean. You're beautiful," he says, not trying to draw Crowley's ire. And, he speaks only truth. "And fascinating." He gets the feeling that it is not improper for merfolk, to lie with humans, or to lie with other men, so he doesn't explain that it's frowned-upon in his society. After all, it is the 1800s. Progress has been made, but there's still much left to be had.

"You'd need to drink some of my blood if you wanted to breathe under water. Should've bit me instead."

He sounds just a touch sullen, slouching down into the dinghy. At least he knows why this human kissed him now.

But he also calls him beautiful, albeit in that sycophantic way many try to butter up the priests of Dagon. Perhaps he's trying to let him down gently. Or perhaps he wants Crowley to prove himself adequate. He'll start bringing gifts then, just to see which it is.

"I could help you with your work, yeah? Got nothing but time these days, and you're not going to see much up here in this - uh -"

He pats the side of the dinghy. "-You call them ships, right?"

"Don't worry," he says, watching as Crowley looks downcast. "I mean you no harm. I wouldn't have bitten you, not to draw blood." That sounds barbaric. He doesn't want to hurt this lovely creature, and he feels a little odd about studying him, since he has a brain that's quite like any human's. He's clever, and he speaks, and he has many thoughts.

"And this is not a ship. Ships are very big. This is just... a dinghy. I will be on a ship soon," he says. "For research. In a months' time, I've boarded passage on a ship going to Denmark. I'll have to come back soon after, I imagine." He can't afford to stay in Denmark, naturally. No pleasure, only business. "But it's sure to be very enlightening, and I can fill up all my slides!"

He smiles so wide, undeterred by Crowley's insistence that he won't see anything at a surface level. "But if you'd like to help, I'd certainly appreciate the hand. I can't swim, you see, so that's why I've got this pole. It'll help me pick things up from down below."

His eyes light up when he talks about his work. It's clearly something he's very passionate about.

"A dinghy," he echoes, listening intently to the human's explanation. A dingy dinghy, he thinks over and over. Perhaps he'd compose a clever little tune and sing it for Aziraphale.

He does puff up again, looking quite eager to help - perhaps Aziraphale simply hadn't seen how pretty and well-kept his red fringe was. He shifts his tail as well, so that the onyx scales glitter in the sunlight. Look, he thinks, Look how shiny and impressive I am.

"S'not gonna reach that far. What are you trying to get? I can go fetch it for you. And what's Denmark? And why are you sliding...?"

"Oh!" he exclaims, excitedly. "Well," he says, eyeing Crowley up and yes, noticing that lovely red fringe and those pretty onyx scales, momentarily distracted by them but trying not to be rude. "I suppose I can take you to shore and show you. I'll have to carry you in, of course, wouldn't want to damage your tail."

He doubts that he could slither on land, the way a snake does. It's a good thing Aziraphale lives in such a remote location by the shoreline, lest they be happened upon. But it was only once in a lifetime to be able to invite a merman into one's home, and he wasn't about to give up the opportunity.

"What do you say, come over for a drink? And I'll tell you all about the humans, and slides, and Denmark."

Crowley looks downright triumphant. A successful seduction landing him an invitation to Aziraphale's den! And he even gets to learn about clever, curious human things like whatever Denmark is and why Aziraphale wants to go there.

"Never seen where a human lives before. Or what they eat and drink when they're not out here. Here, let me get out an push - if you're going to be carrying me, seems only fair."

With a great deal more grace than he got in, Crowley dives over the side, and quite soon the little dinghy is speeding towards the shore.

Oh, wow. Crowley is sure a strong one, because they're back at shore much quicker than if Aziraphale had rowed them back, as he was planning to do, in order to show Crowley how self-sufficient and strong he is. He moors the boat to his dock and gets out, taking out his basket of supplies and then leaning over the side of the dock to offer Crowley a lift.

"Come now, it's not far, just that one over there," he says, nodding his head over. "Rather small thing, but it's enough to get me by." Obviously, he's temporarily embarrassed of his castle, which is somewhere in Denmark. Clearly.

Crowley hoists himself up onto the dock, and wraps his arms around Aziraphale's shoulders so he can more easily lift him.

"Don't worry about the tail dragging a bit. It's pretty long."

He did hope Aziraphale didn't mind getting his clothes wet - there was little chance of staying dry with an armful of sopping wet merman.

Well, he was already a little wet from earlier, so he wraps Crowley around him as best he can and carries him off, bridal style. He is quite heavy, but it's mostly because his tail is so unwieldy and slippery, that it takes extra effort to hold him still.

Yet, they make it back to the cabin, it's a very short distance, and Aziraphale manages to get the door open. It's a small, one-room space, and he gently deposits Crowley onto his bed, leaning over him only a moment before letting him go in order to go fetch one of what takes up the most room in his tiny little home: a book.

"Yes, here we go, Denmark." He opens up an Atlas, and shows Crowley a map. "This is the map of the world, and we're right here," he says, pointing to their little town. It's not even labeled, just a little piece of line next to the only labeled city on their island: London.

"And here's Denmark. It's a country where-- ah yes, here we are, Copenhagen. I'll be there for a day or two, and come right on home." He draws an invisible line over where the sea is, marked only by waves. "That's the ocean in between the two lands, do you see?"

Oh - he isn't expecting Aziraphale to be so nice and warm. Like a tropical current made solid. He may cling just a little closer than is truly necessary.

The bed is also a marvel; Crowley squirms around, cuddling into the covers and nuzzling into Aziraphale's pillow. Everything smells like the human and is just as warm and soft. As far as Crowley's concerned, this might as well be a palace in Denmark.

The map, however, is fascinating.

"It's like an inverse of our maps. Where all you got is waves and sea monsters, we got our cities, towns, territories and stuff. The land bits are pretty much blank except around the shores."

"Yes," he says. "That's just like the opposite of ours. That's fascinating!" he exclaims. He smiles at Crowley and then goes to get a pen. "Will you write down where your cities are? I'd like a full picture, if possible!" he says.

But maybe Crowley could get him a map, and he could study the material and get him a map of the land in return.

"I did say I'd get you some tea," he says. "Let me go put it on. Are you comfortable? Not too dry? I don't really have a tub, but I have a barrel bottom if you'd like. It'll be a little tight, but it'll hopefully do in a pinch, and the ocean's right there. Oh, are you cold?" he asks, looking over at Crowley and then procuring a jumper from his wardrobe, and offering it to the merman.

"Not - well, not off the top of my head. But I could bring you my maps. You'll have to wait 'till night to read them though - made for low light."

He shifts, rolling onto his side while his tail flicks to and fro. He wishes he could get up, explore around the cabin, poke at Aziraphale's books and knickknacks.

"And I'm alright for now. Can stay out the water for hours so long as I'm not in the sun," he brags. "What's tea, though? And why would I be cold? Your nest is lovely and warm."

He wriggles more into the covers, grinning his most salacious grin.

"You're very warm too, did you know?"

Crowley looks at Aziraphale quite indecently, and it makes him feel just a little bit colored in the cheek. Why Crowley finds him so appetizing, he might never know. Sure, he was very pale-skinned, a sure sign of nobility, and he had very delicate wrists and the bluest eyes, but surely there were other very good-looking mermen and maids more worthy of Crowley's attentions.

Or worse, perhaps he was just some conquest. And, truth be told, he was rather interested in the idea of getting to bed a merfolk, particularly one he would find himself attracted to if he were a full human - and, yes, he did sometimes have eyes for men sometimes, but only the very sensitive and artistic sort. And Crowley certainly looked like a muse, long red hair and pillowy lower lip, gorgeous lines of muscle from his strong swimming, and very, very shiny scales.

Oh, he's staring.

"Yes, well, I do suppose it's quite cold under the sea. Tea is a warm drink, it's very good for you. And am I?" he smiles, curtly, at the compliment. He's clearly unable to take one such as this from a creature who expresses interest in him where anyone else that might has steered clear once getting into conversation with him.

"Perhaps you just need a little warming up, is all. Ah-- have you ever seen a fire?"

Aziraphale is staring and Crowley can't be more pleased with himself, puffing up his narrow chest and flaring his red fringe. It might be a very impressive display underwater, where he could flit about and show off his prowess, but it rather lost something with him laid up in bed.

"Seen it a couple times, yeah. You get liquid fire coming up very far below, water boiling around it. Can't even think about getting close without some serious enchantments. Then I saw a ship go up once, all loud blasts. One of your progeny fell overboard, all burned on her arm. Got her to shore but - "

He shrugs.

"Dunno what happened from there. She was still breathing when the humans found her. I reckon I like your warm better than fire."

"You helped save a girl? I think I heard about her, 'twas a miracle she survived. They did tell me the seas here were mystical. Oh, Crowley." He sets two cups of tea down on a tray by the bed, and takes a seat by him. "You're really too kind."

"You know, if you... like it here, you could stay the night. I've got some fish you could eat, and plenty of bread. I don't know if you like bread, do you like bread? You just look so comfortable lying there." He looks at Crowley with such a soft gaze.

And he'd like for Crowley to stay all night so they can talk about the differences between their worlds, and so he can gaze into those hypnotic golden eyes a little longer. He yearns to be in this moment with him for the most he can get away with, fresh and new and wonderful.

Crowley's gone quite red in the cheeks, and looks away almost sheepishly.

"S'good to know, even if it may not be the same girl," he murmurs softly, quite a bit less puffed up now.

"Dunno if I like bread. Could try though."

He sniffs the tea, though it's much too hot for him to even think about trying. Maybe he and Aziraphale have very different standards for 'warm'.

"Dunno if I can stay through the night though. I'd like to, very much."

He knows, though, if he can get his hands on one of those pendants for the Chosen, he could stay with Aziraphale as much as the human wants.

"I'll stay as long as I can. Tell you anything you want to know. So..."

Crowley reaches up to touch a soft, pink cheek and grins.

"...Tell me about yourself, too?"

He gets up to cut some chunky pieces of bread, and butters up both of the slices. He then gets out a jar of homemade gooseberry jam, and gives a generous smear on them, before presenting a plate to Crowley for him to have with his tea.

His soft pink cheek turns a lovely rose red, and he stammers just a little bit before continuing.

"Well, I'm a researcher. But I grew up not too far from here, though I'd always been landlocked. There's... hm..."

He gets up again, to unearth a small pastel drawing, one of a meadow on a bright spring day. "This one was gifted to me by my mother. It's just outside where we used to live. The grass grows so tall there, and the wildflowers are so lovely, and there's always the sound of birdcalls and buzzing. I'll have to take you sometime, in person."

Aziraphale looks at Crowley and he's compelled to reach out to him, to lay the flat of his hand on that narrow chest, and try to feel his heartbeat.

Crowley is about to point out the logistics of getting him inland when he's presented with a plate of buttered bread and jam. And lovely pictures in colours they never used in the vast, dark green murals of the temples. There were beautiful things in the deeps, but once the sunlight was completely gone - well. It was just gloomy.

His heart is aching when Aziraphale rests his hand on his chest, fluttering and pounding against his ribcage. Please, he thinks, please come back into your nest with me.

"I'll take you to the reefs then. Show you how to swim, and write underwater, and you can study anything you like."

"Oh! That would be lovely," he says, as he moves closer to Crowley, so close that he might breathe the air that he does. "But... I can't hold my breath longer than two minutes," he confesses.

How is he meant to go visit underwater? He would love to, but it just seemed unlikely, not as much as Crowley visiting him here.

And... despite how warm Crowley thought he was, now that he's dried off a bit, he's plenty warm himself. And he smells of salt and the briny depth, but a little bit of warm spice and something warm underneath, begging for Aziraphale to take a closer gander.

His heart beats the same as a human's, if quite a bit quicker. And his skin is just as soft, just as rouged underneath the warm daylight.

He likes Aziraphale this close. The human's hand feels so soft and warm, and he has such a foreign and yet familiar scent, Crowley can't help but feel comfortable in this place. He's at the human's mercy, in a sense, and yet there's no worry in him that Aziraphale won't help back to the water when he needs to go.

It does make him feel a touch reckless.

Crowley bites his own finger, hard enough to just break the skin, then holds it up in offering to Aziraphale.

"Two drops and you can stay under for hours. I won't let you drown. And you'll get to see all sorts of things you never would from your dingle."

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