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Something is wrong with Ghost. There must be. He’s been calling through the barred window that separates their enclosures on and off all day, but his friend hasn’t responded. Soap can’t think of any other reason the deepwater mer would be ignoring him, Ghost usually acts annoyed like he doesn’t want to hang out, but he always comes when Soap calls. Sometimes just to tell him to fuck off or that he’s feeling sick and wants to rest for the day, but he’s never just completely ignored him. And he’s definitely still in there, Soap can smell him, his scent is a bit off but he knows it’s him.
He’s been trying to tell the humans but there’s not as many as usual, they don’t seem to understand no matter how clearly he tries to gesture for them. They note his behavior on their little boards, chatter between themselves, and smile at him behind the glass, but no one does anything. Gaz would help if he was around, the selkie had proven invaluable multiple times by bridging the gap in communication between mer and man.
Pacing doesn’t do much to ease his worries, especially when each lap brings him past their window and he gets another hit of Ghost’s scent. He surfaces, snorting hard to get his lungs working and taking in all the smells the air has to offer.
There’s no one on the beach, but the little box with the lens and red blinking light that the humans can see through is where it always is, mounted on the dividing wall with its twin looking out into Ghost’s space. They’ll see if he beaches himself, that would definitely get their attention, maybe then they’d notice something was wrong.
But what would they do? No one ever goes into Ghost’s enclosure, not even Gaz, he’s too big and defensive for them to risk themselves getting hurt.
Soap rolls his shoulders as he stares calculatingly at the wall. He and Ghost are friends, maybe edging into something more he hopes, they can communicate with each other better than the humans could with either of them, plus they’re more similar in size. The wounds on his back are still tender and quick to let him know if he’s pushing himself too hard, but they’re completely closed and healing more every day. He could probably handle himself if Ghost got hostile, enough to get away at least.
It’s been a long time since he’s done any breaching, especially with the speed he’ll need to get over the wall. The first few practice jumps make him feel a bit juvenile and uncoordinated but he quickly gets the hang of it again.
He’s lining himself up on the opposite end of his enclosure when a figure appears on the beach from the boardwalk that leads to the dock. It’s Price, the human that captains the rescue boat and leaves his scent on Gaz and sometimes brings him treats and treasures. The man calls something, a question based on how his voice pitches at the end but Soap is warmed up and determined to check on Ghost. He dives just under the surface where he’s faster and flicks his tail hard, quickly building speed and closing the distance to the wall. At the last possible moment he angles up, surging out of the water and over the barrier.
In the distance he can hear Price shout but the noise is quickly washed away by the rush of water as he goes back under. The jump is almost perfect, he barely knocks his tail against the concrete on the way down. Once back in the water he circles excitedly. He did it, he was in Ghost’s enclosure! The water seems to buzz around him, tingling in his nerves, Ghost always makes him feel like that.
He shakes himself, he needs to calm down, he’s there to make sure his friend is okay not to pester him, though he wouldn’t be opposed to staying to socialize if Ghost wanted him to.
Ghost’s space is just like his, the same size, the majority of it open water with a rocky and sandy floor, on the island side there’s a beach on an overhang and an alcove underneath, half of which has a glass wall that the humans can study them through and the other half is more closed off and private. Ghost is there. Or at least that’s where his scent is strongest.
An alarm blares above the surface, red lights blinking on the barrier and behind the glass, but he pays no mind to the commotion, he’s on a mission.
Swimming into the alcove reveals something he didn’t expect. Gaz is there on the human side looking distressed as Price bounds down the stairs to join him. Gaz had been here watching Ghost? Had they already known something was wrong with him?
The selkie gestures hard at the wall, demanding he leave and go back over. Why would he do that? He wanted to help, it’s not like they could do anything from the other side of the glass.
He turns away with an eyeroll, not even bothering to gesture a reply. Only to be slammed full force back into the smooth surface.
Ghost is a lot bigger without anything between them. And much, much stronger than anything Soap has ever experienced, his form packed thick with muscle that pins Soap like he’s nothing. There’s a low growl that does something funny to Soaps insides then a flash of massive razor sharp teeth. Ghost lunges and Soap just…relaxes, his body going lax even as fangs prick at his throat. He’s pulled away from the glass, feeling oddly mindless as he’s dragged belly-up through the water, big hands holding tight around his wrists.
Soap grumbles softly, he wants to look at Ghost, he wants to touch him, wants to explore every inch of him. He shutters, intakes flaring to draw in more water and pulling in a wave of Ghost’s scent stronger than he's ever had it before. His jaw falls open, tongue feeling thick as he murmurs his friend’s name. He doesn’t fuss about the lack of a response, Ghost’s mouth is already occupied after all. Honestly he isn’t sure what Ghost is doing to him but he doesn’t really want it to stop.
Before he knows it he’s brought back into the shadow of the cave, this time pinned against a side wall. From the corner of his eye he can see Gaz and Price and some of the other humans looking panicked, but when Ghost lets go his neck is unharmed, not a single drop of blood spilling out.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he growls and Soap frowns.
He was being nice and caring and helpful, why was everyone so against that? “Yer scent is off and ye weren’t coming when I called, the humans didn’t look like they were doing anything so Ah just wanted to come ch-”
“I’m in season Soap,” the mer cuts him off, his fingers twitching around his arms, he sighs when he only gets a look prompting him to continue in return, “the process is rough on me and I’ve always done it alone, you can leave, I’ll be fine in a couple days.”
“Ah can help,” Soap blurts before he can even think about it, eyes falling to the other mer’s slit and the added thickness above it where the eggs have been gradually growing without him even noticing. He’d fooled around a bit with others and laid clutches solo every few months when he went into season before his injury, but after having his back mangled by a propeller and being brought to the sanctuary the stress on his body has caused him to miss at least one- possibly two- sets. He doesn’t think he’d be strong enough to carry to term, doesn’t even know if he’s biologically compatible with the deep water mer, but he's been told having a slit to clutch into makes it much easier.
Ghost presses the ridge of his nose hard against Soap’s jaw, a groan spilling from his throat and a shiver wracking his entire body, driving them closer together, the lengths of their tails aligned, the press of flesh sensual, “You don’t even know what you’re offering me, Soap.”
“I dinnea have tae know. It’s you, Ghost, I like you. I trust you. I wanna help, I wanna take your clutch.” Ghost jolts at that, his hips pressing forward, grinding their slits together. Soap moans openly, head tipping back against the wall.
He whines when Ghost forces them apart, hands holding firm to his pelvis and putting a bit of space between them, but it frees his hands to explore so he doesn’t complain too much. “Our first time meeting with no separation and you’re begging me to breed you, with an audience no less? Who would’ve thought you’d be such a slag.”
Soap scrunches his nose with a huff, busying his hands with the strong planes of the body before him, thumbing at his gills to feel the rush of water being pushed through with each rise and fall of his chest. He can feel all the eyes on them but refuses to look. “It only counts as ‘breeding’ if it takes, and given that I’m not even strong enough to take care of myself, I’m pretty sure it won't."
Ghost lifts his head to meet his eyes, they’ve nearly completely blown out, just a small sliver of white still visible. They flick to his shoulder, where he knows some of the deeper wounds carved all the way around, the scar is bright pink and slightly stretched from him pulling at it too much. The shame he carries around the topic of the accident makes him cringe, but Ghost puts the attention somewhere lighter. “Of course, you’re just a little reef dweller, there’s no helping that.”
He laughs at the familiar tease, the slight tension sloping from his posture as he leans forward into Ghost. Making Soap smile, helping him relax, Ghost would be a perfect mate, even the little shift in his scent and the flex of his abdomen where Soap rests a hand is appealing. Or maybe that’s Ghost’s body sensing the willing mate in proximity and readying his eggs in response. Nevertheless.
“Ghost,” Soap murmurs, one hand curling around his waist to keep him close and the other cupping his cheek, “you gonnae give ‘em to me?”
With a low, sharp noise Ghost pushes forward again, pinning Soap with the entire length of his body, hooking their tails together and lining up their slits. “Yeah,” he purrs, hands petting up and down his hips, moving closer and closer to his opening, “gonna stuff you full with as many eggs as you can take.”
The smaller mer keens, holding on to Ghost’s shoulders as he watches those hands knead at the soft skin, thumbs gently coaxing his slit open to reveal the tips of his cocks, eager for the slightest attention to draw them out. They get it soon after Ghost gets his fill of playing with his folds, manipulating the delicate flesh to massage his hole and tease the heads of his lengths. He gasps when thick fingers dip inside, eyes fluttering closed as they stroke the underside and guild them out. It’s been a while since he’s taken care of himself, and much longer since anyone else has taken care of him.
“Ghost, I-” both of his cocks fit perfectly in the other mers’ fist, throbbing in tandem with his heartbeat when he drops his head against Ghost’s collarbone to watch.
“You what, sweet boy?” He asks, stroking the lengths in slow, slick pulls. He can’t answer, throat catching around a moan as his hips jerk into the friction. It feels so good, so mind numbingly good, maybe it’s just all the time he’s been solitary but Ghost’s fist feels better than anything he’s ever been in before. His eyes slip closed as he rutts into that perfect grip, jaw going slack with pleasure. Just as that coil starts to make itself known deep in his pelvis, building steadily, that hand moves away to wrap around his throat. “Answer me,” he rumbles.
“I’ve never done this before,” he says softly, holding Ghost’s eyes rather than turning away to hide from the embarrassment of his inexperience. The last thing he needs is for the other mer to get the wrong idea.
Ghost’s brow furrows slightly, “You really don’t know what you’re offering then,” he states, but it’s not an outright rejection. And those hands are still on him, so Soap doesn’t think he’s taking it too poorly.
“I’ve got a decent idea about what happens,” he snarks playfully, even throwing in an eyeroll for good measure, “And ye make a good pick, I’d be happy to have ye as the first mer to give me a clutch, regardless of the outcome.” His eyes drag down the other’s body appreciatively, hands following the same path as far as they can, landing conveniently at his slit. Tipping his head down, he presses a tentative kiss to Ghost's wrist as he thumbs over the opening.
The deepwater mer pants as his cocks start to harden, sliding into the open on their own, pushed out by the hefty eggs sitting above them. Ghost uses his thumb to tilt Soap’s head back up, “If it’s too much, you need to tell me. Do not let me hurt you because you’re trying to help. Trust me, it’s enough just having you here, being able to smell you…being able to touch you…” He trails off, nuzzling into Soap’s temple as the hand that had been holding on to his hip glides to Soap’s members twitching for more attention.
“I’ll tell you, Ah promise,” he gasps, mouthing at Ghost’s neck just above the scar that encircles it, using both hands to stroke his cocks to fullness. A whimper pulls from his throat as more and more length emerges, as long as his forearm and just as thick at the base by the time they’re all the way out, muttering a quiet ‘fuck, you’re huge’ into his skin.
Fingers move down to delve into his slit, two pushing inside, his slick walls opening eagerly to the intrusion. Ghost groans from both his assurance and the warm muscle clinching around him, “You’re my good boy, gonna be so perfect for me, gonna look so pretty trying to take me.”
Soap nods mindlessly at the praise, guiding the tip of one of Ghost’s members towards his entrance. And it stays just outside there as Ghost decides to add a third finger, flexing and spreading them against those soft velvety walls.
The reef mer chitters discontently, tilting his head down to press his teeth to Ghost's shoulder. He gets a very interesting reaction for the sting that the not-quite-a-bite causes, Ghost moaning softly, eyes fluttering shut and fingers curling inside Soap. “Like tha’?” he grins, dazed in his own pleasure, nibbling a little harder. The sound Ghost makes, the thrust of his hips and the frotting of their cocks, the gorgeous blush rising to his cheeks…it’s addicting, devastating in that Soap knows he’s ruined from anyone else forever. “What aboot you? Ye ever done this before?”
Ghost makes a pensive expression at that, slipping his fingers out, the hand that had been at Soap’s throat moving to cup his cheek, “Not sure,” he murmurs and his gaze goes a bit too far away for Soap’s liking. It happens sometimes when they talk about their lives before being brought to the sanctuary, he’s never gotten much detail out of Ghost but occasionally he turns quiet and distant, and that tells Soap enough. The scars around his neck, wrists, and tail, healed but gnarled, are physical marks of something done to him intentionally, and Ghost’s suspicion of the humans that care for them gives him a good guess about what species caused them. He never presses for answers, would much rather be left to wonder about the deep water mer’s history, than to drag his tortured mind back into it.
He doesn’t know what possesses him then. A lingering curiosity about something he’s watched Gaz and Price do to show their affection for each other. A deep rooted desire to be closer to Ghost, closer than anything either of them have ever known, beyond what’s normal for mers.
He surges forward with a little flick of his tail and presses their mouths together. It makes Ghost freeze, drawing him back from his thoughts and straight into the surprise of an unknown touch. Soap’s eyes are closed like he thinks they’re supposed to be and he moves his lips against Ghost’s, trying to coax a response out of him. When nothing happens he pulls back sheepishly, gearing up to apologize or try to explain himself, but just as he opens his mouth to speak their lips are pressed together again, this time by Ghost. He’s just as timid with it as Soap was, but with a broad palm he tilts Soap’s head just so, allowing them to slot even closer together.
From there the gesture becomes more comfortable, more intimate. They sink into each other, the lines of their bodies perfectly entwined, the slide of their lips becoming easier as they learn from each other. It’s then that Soap realizes Gaz and Price part for the sole purpose of breathing, because right here and now, with water flowing through his gills unobstructed, he’s not going to stop until something makes him.
Ghost seems to share the sentiment if the way he’s clinging to Soap, one hand still holding his jaw and the other coming up to coil around his shoulders, is any indication. And then he retaliates for the little nip Soap took earlier, taking hold of his bottom lip until it parts on a cry. He’s on the verge of a complaint when Ghost does something that completely halts anything resembling a coherent thought.
His tongue presses in. Slick and hot and strong, delving in to taste behind his teeth, forcing a devastated noise out of Soap. The sound has Ghost shuttering in return, the hand on his cheek moving away. There’s no chance for him to mourn the loss of contact because it returns a moment later, much lower. Soap’s insides clinch when two fingers slip just past his entrance and spread, holding him open for the tip of one of those monstrous cocks to breach him.
Ghost draws back, breaking the seal of their lips, Soap would’ve chased after him if it weren’t for the hand grasping his nape and the absolute weapon spearing into him with the slow inevitability of the tides. “Your perfect little slit is pulling me in,” he murmurs, lips trailing across his cheek and up to his hairline, “you feel it don’t you? You’re gonna take my clutch beautifully.”
He can’t respond with words, just nods helplessly as Ghost touches him deeper than anything ever before. A deep seated pressure makes his eyes roll back, pleasure flickering through him as that cock fills him as deep as his insides go, the tapered tip nestling against his womb. “Mate,” he wheezes out, because it’s the only word he can conjure in his addled mind.
“Mate,” Ghost rumbles in reply, sounding just as fucked out as he starts to roll his hips. “You can take me deeper, I promise, you were made for me. You can take all of it, just relax, let yourself feel it,” he trails off, lips still moving around words that he can’t manage to put any sound behind.
Soap wants to deny it for a few fleeting seconds as an odd anxiety tries to take hold, something fearful whispering in the back of his mind that he’s not good enough, that he’s gonna disappoint Ghost and the mer won’t want to really be mates. But then Ghost moans approvingly, both of them dropping their gazes to where they’re joined, and sure enough with each firm, relentless thrust, that remaining length steadily disappears as Soap’s body adjusts to the massive intrusion. His own noises join Ghost’s, pitching higher as he clings to his mate and starts to meet his thrusts with desperate grinds.
He can feel himself winding tighter, each brush of his lengths against Ghost sending sparks through him, sliding over that slight bulge where the eggs currently wait, each press of Ghost’s tip against where they'll be by the end of their coupling making him clinch. And then that fist wraps around his members again, squeezing perfectly with each pull. His head falls back with a wail of pleasure, his skull only saved from the wall by Ghost’s forearm braced against it.
He cums harder than ever before in his life, cocks throbbing milky white into the water between them, his entire body jerking against Ghost until he’s fully seated and can’t physically get any closer. The world goes dark to him in flickering bursts as he loses his senses, knowing nothing but the press of Ghost against him…inside him.
As soon as it’s over he wants more, needs to feel the waves of pleasure take him apart like a small boat in a storm. But much the same, the first orgasm has already taken its toll, which he discovers when Ghost shifts his hips and loosens his hand.
Soap gasps as oversensitivity sinks in, every little movement making him twitch and whine. “Almost there,” Ghost soothes into the skin just above his ear, “they’re coming, I just gotta move a bit to help them. You’re doing so good, mate.”
The eggs. He’d gotten so caught up with Ghost, with their pleasure, their union, that he’d nearly forgotten what had prompted it. The reminder has him aching for it, now he understands what Ghost had been telling him, he can feel his insides shift, stuffed full as he is, he can feel his body trying to draw in more. He whimpers as both of Ghost’s hands go to his hips, guiding the steady rocking of their bodies, so he wraps both arms around the back of his neck to keep them close. “Mate,” he croons as oversensitivity ebbs back into gentle pleasure, “I want them.”
Ghost shivers in his hold, and when he tilts his head to look at his face, he finds his eyes closed and brows pinched, lips slightly parted as he focuses on giving his mate what he’s promised. ‘He’s so pretty’ Soap realizes, really looking at his face up close for the first time. His markings aren't nearly as harsh from this distance, and while Soap had already found them appealing before, now he never wants to see them from any other distance.
Ghost's eyes slide open, slowly drifting over to meet his own, and then he feels it. The deep water mer breathes hard as the base of his cock swells, spreading Soap's entrance where it's already stretched taut around the thickest part of Ghost's length. He mewls as he feels that shape move through the core of where they're joined, jaw slack as he stares up at his new mate and it really sinks in that what he feels pushing into him right now may very well be a child one day.
He winces slightly at the dull burn flaring deep inside him, but keeps calm and distracted by that thought. He doesn't know how many eggs there will be, but he imagines, hopes, that one will make it. Ghost and Gaz and the humans will take good care of him and the baby. Maybe it'll have his bronze tones, or Ghost's stunning iridescence, or-
He feels a slight pop, the suddenness of it draws him back to the present. The burn is gone, replaced by an indescribable fullness. Ghost sighs with relief, his grip easing where it had gone slightly too tight on his hips.
“There, mate,” he says with a dreamy little smile, “there's your first egg.”
His first egg…his egg- it's his now, he's carrying an egg in his womb. And it's from Ghost, this gorgeous, powerful, intelligent mer from what might as well be an entire world away. He's earned his trust and affection enough to be given this, to be given a clutch.
“Is it okay?” Ghost whispers, brushing their noses together, “does it hurt? I can stop if you need me to, it’s okay, we can-”
“More,” Soap cuts him off, rolling his hips to encourage the next egg forward, “Mate, give me more, please.” Ghost nods compliantly, that shy grin returning as he resumes pushing into Soap, leaving kisses against the corner of his mouth and on his cheek.
It feels good, Soap decides, moaning softly as he feels another egg start to descend. The subtle shifting of Ghost's cock against his walls provides the perfect amount of pleasure to not overwhelm after he's already came, the stimulation keeping him hot and open and ready for more, the stretch of the egg first entering him is enough to make his breathing stutter but not enough to hurt, and the closeness, that's what's he's enjoying the most, being pressed bodily against his mate, sharing warmth and touch.
The second egg lands against the entrance of his womb at the same time that a third egg presses into him. Ghost makes a noise that could be described as pathetic if it had come from anyone else, his hips working hard in tight little circles to get the eggs where they belong. The stretch doesn't burn as much as last time and the egg slips in easier than the first, the thought- the knowledge- that his body is already adjusting to better take the clutch makes him throb.
“Doin’ so good, so perfect,” Ghost praises, nuzzling into his hair, “Taking them so well, mate, thank you. Thank you for taking care of me, thank you for taking my clutch. Gonna look so pretty full of my brood.”
Soap nods along mindlessly, caught between the sincerity Ghost doesn’t often show and the sheer fullness he’s never experienced as egg after egg is deposited.
Five, he thinks. Five eggs sitting safe and comfortable in his core when Ghost slumps against him, laving his tongue along the top edge of his ear. Then with a mutter of “Almost done,” his thrusts pick up again, feeling all the more devastating now with the eggs giving his insides less room to stretch. “Gonna cum,” he warns, rutting into Soap hard enough to jostle him entirely, the spike in pleasure has his half retracted cocks firming up again.
They moan in harmony as he floods Soap with it, hot and viscous, the thick base of Ghost’s cock keeping most of it inside but through sheer volume and lack of space some still spills out.
“So full,” Soap churrs happily, nibbling at his jaw, “feels good carrying my mate's clutch.”
Ghost hums contently, drunk on pleasure, “Too full for the rest?” Soap’s head tips up to give him a confused look, brows pinched and a slight frown tugging at his mouth. “Still gotta do the other half,” he says like that explains everything.
“Other half-?” Soap starts, looking down. Ghost’s other cock, the one that hadn’t been used, is still fully erect, while the one that had just ravaged his insides is steadily softening and retracting back into his body. “Oh,” he says, reaching a shaky hand out to stroke the eager length. He thinks about it for a long moment, he’s fuller than ever before but it doesn’t hurt, it’s not even uncomfortable. The more eggs, the higher chance that one makes it he reckons, so he nods, “Let’s try.”
A little disbelieving noise escapes Ghost, a half-sigh, half-laugh that makes Soap flush but doesn’t dissuade him, even if he's a bit embarrassed about how eager for this he’s become. Ghost pulls out gingerly, groaning softly at the sight of Soap’s slit gaping open after it, mournfully leaking thick wisps of cum into the water. Soap lets his head loll to the side when the second lines up, dazed eyes wandering.
They land on the glass to his right. And more notably their observers behind it. The selkie and his mate are the only ones remaining, clearly teetering between being enraptured by the sight of their mating and wanting to turn away out of modesty. For a brief moment he wonders about the social complexities of humans, but the thought doesn't last, not when Ghost pushes into him again.
The deepwater mer moans, low and drawn out, his hands dragging Soap away from the wall and onto his length. A whine spills from the smaller mer, his eyes rolling back as he drops his cheek to Ghost's chest. They're both reduced to primal noises as Ghost rebuilds his rhythm, his pace less controlled now, drifting from frantic to tiring. He's losing himself, falling into his instincts, mind and body focused solely on breeding.
“Halfway there Mate,” Soap coos, reaching up to stroke his thumb delicately along the pale ridge of his cheekbone, “halfway, then you'll be done, and I'll be properly full of your clutch.”
He shutters, cock throbbing within Soap's walls, which eagerly clinch in response. The words seem to help, the pace evening out as Ghost steadies them by readjusting his grip. “Pretty,” he murmurs, “you're so pretty, Mate. They'll be pretty like you.” A long groan follows, and then Soap finally feels that stretch again.
There's a moment where he worries about how addictive it's becoming, how turned on he is by the thick slide of an egg being pushed into him. But Ghost nuzzles their faces together, joins their lips in another kiss, and it passes. He focuses on the gentle push and pull of their mouths, and the mirroring motion of their bodies, moving in sync by natural instinct to coax more eggs through.
“Mate,” Ghost gasps hard, breaking the kiss, several eggs lined up with almost no space between, drawing him taut, each thrust making him whimper. Soap can't even conjure the wherewithal to respond, nearly clawing into the flesh of Ghost's strong back as he's filled to the brim. He's lost track of how many he's taken, and as the cluster is fucked into his womb he realizes he's rapidly reaching his limit.
“So many,” he wheezes out, shuttering, “such a good mate, making sure it's gonna take, huh?”
Ghost nods against his temple, pushing hard into him, eager to finish. Pleasure flashes through the reef mer like a jolt of electricity, making him clinch tight, pulling another egg in and drawing attention to the orgasm that has been steadily building since the oversensitivity from the first faded.
“One more,” his mate groans out, sounding wrecked. Soap keens, mourning the end before they've even finished, but as the final egg starts its descent he knows he wouldn't be able to take any more.
It settles at the opening of his womb, blocked by however many are already packed inside. They breathe hard against each other, Soap trying to make himself relax while Ghost rutts hard, both of them desperate to get the final egg in.
It's a struggle, but when Soap feels Ghost pull back in the slightest he growls, biting at his shoulder. He wants that last egg, he's not giving up, not gonna let it go to waste, not gonna let Ghost discard it. He jolts with a cry at the feel of sharp teeth sinking in, and that's what it takes to force the egg past his cervix and into its place with its siblings.
“Almost,” Ghost pants, thrusting as deep as he can, which is only about three quarters of the way now, driving his tip firmly against where Soap is achingly full.
“Me too,” he whimpers into his skin, “so close. Give it to me, make sure they take.”
The growl and following flood of cum are expected, but the sheer sensation of it all has Soap tipping over the edge too, their cries echoing through the water together.
Soap blacks out for a few seconds, just long enough for Ghost to lounge back in the water, gently swaying his tail to put them in the reverse of how this meeting started. Ghost is now the one belly up, gliding easily even with Soap on top of him.
They're still joined, which Soap is grateful for, even though Ghost has mostly softened. He's not ready to separate, he knows the clutch isn't going anywhere, he just needs some more time. Needs to strengthen the bond with his new mate.
The thought draws a giddy little laugh from him. He's mated this absolute stunner, and taken his clutch. Not quite how he thought his day would go, but he wouldn't dare complain.
“What's so funny?” Ghost murmurs from where he's mindlessly paddling them along.
The reef mer places appeasing kisses to his collar bones, “Quite the turn of events is all.”
“Do you regret it?”
Soap wrinkles his nose, concerned about Ghost even saying such a thing, let alone his tone hinting that he actually believes it. “Never,” he growls, setting the possessive ring of his teeth to his throat.
Ghost shivers, his cocks giving a mild throb. “Thank you,” he whispers, and Soap's teeth are immediately hidden behind soft lips that kiss over every accessible bit of skin.
They wander for a while, their tails still entwined, hips still flush, Soap resting atop Ghost while the deepwater mer disperses the remainder of his excess energy.
“So,” the smaller starts, as Ghost finally steers them towards the alcove. He waits to get a hum in response before continuing, “You gonna return the favor next time I'm in season?”
Ghost twitches hard enough to make the both of them gasp, “Fuckn hell Soap,” he groans, but Soap can see the flush blooming on his cheeks.
He smiles, tired but still bright as they slink into the shadows. Price and Gaz are still at the glass, the selkie standing with arms crossed like he's still upset about Soap potentially putting himself in harm's way but his human is tucked against his back with arms around his waist and lips to his shoulder, facial hair shifting as he speaks against his skin, easing him with each word.
“Yes,” Ghost says, and Soap has to chirp for him to explain. “Yes, I'll take your clutch when it's your time.”
Soap stares at him in awe, both because now he's seriously thinking about breeding this mountain of a mer, and because as they delve into the secluded, closed off area of the cave the darkness reveals the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Ghost is bioluminescent. Tiny blips of soft light dot his skin like the stars, each one a slightly different colour just like his iridescence.
“I love you,” is the only thing Soap manages to word together through the whirlwind of thoughts tangling in his head.
Ghost looks at him, and in the faint glow he can see the softest smile lift his features.
“I love you too.”