[ Inspired in part by this lovely artwork by @plumadot ! ]
"So I've got a theory," Joel started.
It was a nice day; temperate in a way that heralded the approaching warm season. A lot of hermits were taking advantage of it to check the things off their to-do lists that weren't easily done in cold or wet weather. Etho had broken off from the others for just that purpose, but as soon as he mentioned needing coral, Joel invited himself along.
Which meant a return to form in the shape of them, once again, sharing a boat.
"Do I have to listen to your theory?" Etho asked. The answer didn't matter much when he was a captive audience, but their conversations up until this point had been general, casual nonsense. How they spent their morning, how they liked their steak cooked, what ore they'd most be willing to eat. Time killers at worst, amusement at best.
Joel scoffed. "Don't act like you don't want to know what I'm thinking," Etho felt an elbow land against his ribs without any real force. It might have been rougher, if they weren't currently faced away from each other. Joel liked watching the wake the boat left behind, so they were pressed back-to-back. "It's about your obsession."
"My obsession? Don't you mean yours?" He retorted. Joel snorted, and Etho could imagine the smug grin that'd be accompanying it.
"This projection is getting embarrassing, Etho," Joel said with thinly veiled glee.
Etho rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Just tell me about your theory," He said through a chuckle.
From behind him, Joel wiggled like he was trying to look over his shoulder. The boat rocked hard to the left, and Joel stilled before crowing, "I knew you wanted to know!"
Etho stopped rowing to peer over the boat's edge. The ocean here was deep, illuminated only faintly by magma pockets and the occasional rogue glow squid. They'd made a lot of headway, but there was still a ways to go to reach an untouched reef. "I wonder if I could swim back to shore from here..."
"I'll push you overboard myself if you don't let me get a blummin' word out," Joel griped, even as he fisted a hand in the back of Etho's shirt. It wouldn't do much if Etho decided to move, but the idea that Joel might want him to stay was more than enough for Etho to do so.
Not that Etho would ever tell him that; his ex-soulmate's ego was big enough.
"You're the one stopping, though?" Etho answered, rebalancing the boat and adjusting the oars to continue rowing. Joel's inhale was audible, and before he could argue, Etho urged, "Let's hear your theory."
Joel crossed his arms with a huff. Etho grinned. Joel was probably pouting and everything. "D'you remember what Gem said this morning?"
"Hmm," Etho had to think the question through. They'd been hanging out with Gem, Impulse, and Scar that morning, a lot of things were said. "Mmmmaybe?"
After a few minutes of fruitless sifting through snippets of conversation that Joel might have found noteworthy, he threw Etho a bone. "When we were arguing about who built a better cherry tree, still me by the way, she said-"
Ah. "'Just kiss already', or something?" Etho offered.
Joel clapped once, "Exactly."
Etho laughed, pitching his voice up in a mockery of Joel's, "Oh no, I'm not obsessed, I'm just chasing him making smoochy sounds and thinking a lot about Gem telling us to kiss-"
"That first thing was literally your fault!" Joel argued, "And I'm not thinking about it, alright? There's nothing to think about, it's just a thing that is!"
"What is?"
Joel seemed to shrink, curling forward so their backs were no longer touching. "If we kissed, the world would sorta collapse, wouldn't it?"
Etho stopped so abruptly that he almost dropped an oar. What? "Uh. No?"
"Of course you'd say so, it's stupid how bad you wanna kiss me," Joel scoffed. The turn in conversation was so jarring that Etho didn't even argue the point about wanting to kiss Joel. "But the stir it'd cause would be massive. Gem would explode. Bdubs would probably explode, maybe Grian? Scar and Skizz, definitely, we'd never hear the end of it."
Etho locked the oars and turned around in his seat. If Joel noticed, he gave no indication, plowing relentlessly forward as if he'd realized there was no going back now that he'd started. Etho recognized that habit from their time together in Double Life- an anxious Joel with no other outlet would ramble himself breathless.
"Your mask as well," Joel continued, "Nobody's seen you without it-"
Etho tugged his mask down.
"-that's probably grounds for server obliteration in itself-"
He put a hand on Joel's shoulder.
"-if the first time anybody saw your face was for a kiss like that, then-"
He turned Joel to face him.
And before Joel could say another word, Etho kissed him.
Silence. Bliss. Etho's lips were dry from the mask, and he kept the press of them soft until he felt Joel's stiff body melt, meeting Etho's lean halfway. He tilted his head, and he could feel the flutter of long lashes against his face as Joel's eyes shut. The world kept turning, and Etho let it, stealing a moment just for them.
It only ended when Etho pulled away, leaving a dazed Joel to process what had just happened. Etho didn't bother putting his mask back up when he grinned. "Still alive?"
"Wh- y-?" Joel floundered. Etho chuckled, and Joel scowled, even as a dusty blush painted his cheeks pink. Even as he turned to face Etho properly, dropping his head against Etho's shoulder. Even as Etho felt lips against his racing pulse.
imp n skizz + 27... the besties. did you know skizz irl sometimes kisses impulse n the cheek. to annoy him
Send me a pairing + a number! || Accepting
27. A platonic kiss, Impulse/Skizz, 873 words
This may have been the greatest day of Impulse's life.
The exhilaration of starting anew had hit him full force. The space between seasons had been spent dreaming up builds of grandeur, and he was finally able to see what he was working with. Better still, he had a partner in crime to share his vision with. Providing Bdubs his first clock was a point of pride, and Bdubs had accepted it with promises of a great future ahead of them.
He'd made momentous progress. Maybe not on the scale of Doc and his villager operation, but the humble underground iron farm he and Tango constructed would serve them well. The land that would become a sprawling cyberpunk city was sectioned off. His strip mine was fruitful, piles of diamonds to be fashioned into armor and equipment as needed. Everything was coming up Impulse.
When the day was over, the rest was well-earned. The Mountaineers, as Scar had named them, reconvened to share dinner around the fire. He took the chance to wash up in the river- a water well would be a tomorrow project, once he had a place to lay his head that was more permanent than the blocked off mouth of his cave- and laid down for a good night's sleep.
...Any minute then.
Impulse rolled onto his back and sighed. It didn't feel right, and Impulse knew what was missing.
This may have been the greatest day of Impulse's life, because Skizz was there.
Skizz was there, and so much as thinking his name made the thread connecting them hum. Before Skizz was a hermit, when Impulse had been summoned and made the decision to stay, it was easy to ignore. The proximity now, though, made it impossible. His very soul knew its other half was near, and Impulse longed.
Skizz hadn't wanted to be coddled. He was determined to stand on his own two feet in this server of building gods and redstone masters. It was with full support that Impulse had agreed to let Skizz forge his own way, neighbors instead of roommates.
...But surely Skizz wouldn't mind a late-night visit, right?
Impulse relit the torches by his bedside. He didn't change, just throwing on his shoes. On his way to the door, he wondered if it would be worth taking his wings out. It would make the trip incredibly short, at the cost of nearly guaranteeing he'd spend all night at Skizz's. He wouldn't mind, but if Skizz did...
"Aaah!" A yell made Impulse jump as he opened the door, snapping him out of his thoughts. An equally startled Skizz stood in the doorway, a hand on his chest as he settled down. "You scared the dookie right outta me, dude," He said, heaving a breath, "Don't you know it's like, dumb o'clock in the morning? Nice jammies though," Skizz snickered.
Impulse snorted. Skizz was wearing a matching set. "These old things? Aw, they're nothin'," Skizz barks a laugh, and Impulse chuckles with him, a line of tension leaving his shoulders, "I know it's dumb o'clock in the morning, what're you doing at my front door?"
"Well I- y'know, I was in the neighborhood," Skizz started, wings held around his shoulders like a mantle, "And I'm thinkin' to myself, I think, y'know... I'm really feelin' it! And if I'm feelin' it, my best buddy over here, Mr. Impy Dimpy Dippledop, well, he's gotta be feelin' it too, right? Am I right? I bet I'm right," Skizz poked at Impulse's cheek.
Impulse huffed fondly, lightly smacking Skizz's hand away. Nobody could manage to be longwinded and straightforward like Skizz could. "I might've been on my way to yours for the same reason," Impulse admitted.
"Good thing I beat you then," Skizz cackled, "I don't have a bed yet!"
"Skizz!" Impulse laughed, "That's the first thing you do!"
"I was excited, okay? Some stuff fell through the cracks!" It only made Skizz laugh harder, "Are you gonna invite me in or not!"
"Okay, okay," Impulse placated once their laughter calmed into the occasional giggle. He stepped away from the doorway and gestured Skizz to follow him inside, "Come on in, make yourself at home. Don't forget to shut the door behind you."
Impulse heard the door close. The place was basic, really, meant for function over form. A double-wide bed, some chests for storage, and the simple wall that separated the space from the outside. There was a joke on the tip of Impulse's tongue, something about excusing a mess that wasn't there, but it's forgotten the moment he feels arms around him.
Arms, and then wings, warm and white and all-encompassing like a blanket settled around his very soul. If Impulse looked behind himself, he was sure Skizz's halo would be showing. In turn, Impulse's horns grew. Dark scales climbed up his arms where he held Skizz's arms across his chest, and his tail found purchase around Skizz's leg.
Skizz squeezed him in a hug, lowering his head to leave a kiss in Impulse's hair before burying his face in it with a content sigh that made Impulse want to melt into bed and never get up again.
"Yeah," Skizz mumbled, soft and tired, "This is home."
16. A kiss while someone watches, Bdubs/Joel, 849 words
Honestly, Bdubs saw this coming ages ago.
Since Double Life, in fact. He'd have to be blind, deaf, and stupid not to notice the way Etho and Joel clicked. Like two halves of the same whole that had Bdubs wondering, not for the first time, if the game knew something they didn't. Bdubs hadn't been surprised when Etho came to him two sessions in to say that being with Joel felt Good. The kind of capital-letter-warranting feeling that Etho used to describe how he felt with people like Doc, like Beef, like Bdubs. Bdubs was sure at that point that Etho was in love. He was just as sure that, in time, he'd love Joel as well.
A lot had happened since then. Limited Life, the Rift debacle, The Decked Out 2 invitations, Secret Life. Season Nine had ended. When Season Ten began, Joel was there, and he took to being a Hermit like sparks to dry kindling, getting happily caught up in the whirlwind of early-game adventures.
Joel always seemed busy. Never too busy to indulge a conversation with any passersby who grabbed his attention, never too busy to pay calls and visits to his wife, and certainly never too busy to build- but busy enough that by the time he showed up on Bdubs' doorstep, Bdubs hadn't seen him since the season introduction.
It was nice, having Joel to himself for a while. They chatted, they caught up, they talked about their building plans as Bdubs toured Joel around his house and the space he'd cleared for future projects. Joel was a great rubber duck, taking all Bdubs' ideas and bouncing them back a little to the left, helping him see what could change for the better. Using the tree as a living indicator of the passage of time? Genius.
Bdubs tried to be the same, when it came time to tour Joel's base, but what could he add to perfection? His builds had so much visual interest, each decorated sign and hanging banner significant to the image as a whole. It felt like a part of a city, chiseled right out of the mountainside, and Bdubs was incredibly impressed. Verticality, especially, was a tough thing to work with.
They were on their way through the shopping district when Joel stopped. Bdubs walked a few paces ahead before he noticed, and stopped as well to let Joel catch up. The next time it happened, Bdubs paused with him. "You alright?"
Joel seemed to stare at the corner of the building they'd just passed. "Fine," He said, turning back around and gesturing with a nod for them to keep moving. As they did, Joel continued, "Any ideas why your boyfriends are following us?"
"What?" Immediately, Bdubs tried to backtrack to the corner Joel had been staring at, but Joel grabbed him by the arm.
"Shh! Bloody- don't make a scene of it. Etho's lurking behind the building," Joel nodded towards the shade behind the oddly tall pop-up shop, "And Impulse is going from roof to roof."
Bdubs had known for a long time that he was going to love Joel some day.
He just... didn't expect it to start here, with enchanting eyes glinting mischievously and a smile that made compelling promises as Joel said, "We should mess with 'em."
Bdubs' throat dried. Now wasn't the time to be looking at Joel's mouth. "Yeah, uh-huh," He said with a nervous-excited chuckle, "They've got it coming! Wh-what do they think they're doing, spyin' on us!"
Joel giggled back, and the sound made Bdubs' heart do these funny little flips that he hadn't felt since he and Impulse were bound in Double Life, "Gotta make it convincing," Joel warned.
Oh. Joel's lips were soft.
Softer than Bdubs would have expected from a man who bit them while he thought. Warm, as well, and Bdubs' awareness narrowed to that point of contact. It was tame, as far as kisses went. Joel wasn't much for tame, and possessed by resentment that Joel might be doing something stupid like holding back, Bdubs grabbed Joel by the folds of his kimono and pulled him closer, kissed him harder.
They broke apart with a gasp only after hearing the sound of Impulse falling from his rooftop perch.
For a moment, there was nothing. They both stared at where Impulse had been, then to the dissipating smoke of his lost life, his items scattered haphazardly around the area. They looked at each other, kiss-drunk and surprised, like they'd forgotten that this started as a way to get back at Etho and Impulse for stalking them through the shopping district. Like they'd forgotten that they're very much still in the, very public, shopping district. Admittedly, Bdubs might have forgotten his own name if they'd kept up like that for much longer.
They laughed.
"That's enough of that," Joel finally said, "We should get Impulse's stuff put away, before it despawns on 'im."
Bdubs nodded his agreement, already in the process of crafting a chest. "And what happens then?"
"After that," Joel had that mischievous flicker in his eyes again, "I think you and I've got a lot to talk about."
Among the sound of breaking blocks, running water, and falling gravel, the survivors' communicators pinged in tandem. Etho dared to hope that his partner had earned his keep. Lizzie was gone, a glaring red smear in chat announcing her demise the result of fall damage, and from where Etho was, trapped in a cave system far underground, he had no way of knowing if Bdubs contributed.
He waited a moment. There'd be a sign, Etho was sure, a message, a bold confirmation that the deed was done, maybe even an echo of boisterous, proud, manic laughter. It was what Etho wanted, however impossible; Bdubs, head held high as he mined the survivors out of their cavern and proclaimed that he was one of them once more.
The communicator pinged again.
BdoubleO100 was slain by Grian
And that was that.
Ren had him by the hand as they dug their way out of the cave, Cleo at his back with fleeting, encouraging touches whenever he drifted a bit too far. They kept him moving. They kept him talking, offering condolences and advice, plans and promises. They got him above ground, cheering at the sight of the sun and heaving lungfuls of fresh air, but Etho found it no easier to breathe.
The grounding hand was back, turning him gently, stopping him before he could get any closer to where he last recalled the reds congregating.
"Where are you off to?" Cleo asked, but something in her voice sounded like she was already well aware, "The session isn't over for another hour."
Etho's mouth dried. "I, uh. I don't think this is something that can wait, Cleo."
"Sure it can," Cleo said, not unkindly, but straightforward in a way that had Etho's guts in knots, "What're you going to do if you walk straight into the reds?"
"I won't," Etho reasoned, "I won't, they- there's no reason for them to double back, right?"
"Depends on where he- where the fight happened. I'm not letting you join them," The hand on Etho's shoulder squeezed, "We can't lose another, is all I'm saying. I can't."
Cleo stared, and Etho stared back until he couldn't stand the mirror he found there any longer. Her loyalties never truly faded, and if it wasn't for the need to press forward, to carry the memory of allies long since fallen and survive, she'd be as stricken as Etho.
Etho took her hand off of his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, "I'll be back," He promised, "It's only for an hour." Outside of the session, the reds couldn't touch him.
Cleo looked him up and down, as if appraising whether his word could be trusted, until finally, "I'll hold you to it." She pulled on his hand, and when he leaned in, she kissed his cheek over his mask. "Give him that for me, then?"
It was the least he could do for her.
For Bdubs, when Etho finally found him, Etho would do much more.
"Of course you had to go and die somewhere this inconvenient," He said, short of breath from scaling the mountain Bdubs had been climbing when he died, an attempt at levity that fell short.
Bdubs was curled up on his side, the jut of two fatal shots piercing the gaps in his armor. Etho eased the arrows out of Bdubs' back so his body could be laid flat, and a shuddering breath tightened his stomach as he covered Bdubs' eyes with a softly-placed hand, sliding them shut.
It didn't suit him, the image of a warrior fallen on a battlefield. "You don't wear anything this heavy back home," Etho said as he loosened buckles and untied straps until the diamond plate could be set aside. Etho paused, and after staring for a moment, he shrugged off his coat and laid it over Bdubs' chest like a blanket. "Yeah. Yeah, you look more comfortable already."
Nothing answered. The sun was setting, and with dusk would come fresh dangers, but Etho laid down beside Bdubs and watched the sky darken.
"You know," Etho mumbled into the empty air, "I meant everything I said this morning." He turned his head. Like this, it was easy to imagine Bdubs was just sleeping, that any moment he'd crack a smile and agree, be proud of himself for winning Etho's admiration, "You were the best teammate I could have asked for. And when I-" He swallowed, cleared his throat, "When I said we wouldn't be friends, I- man, I hoped- I wanted so badly for it not to be you."
Etho rolled onto his side and ignored the way it made the suspiciously warm streaks on his face change course, "And now it's my fault you're not here. Heh, can you believe that? I'm gonna be kicking myself for ages. You earned that life and I didn't pull the trigger fast enough."
Etho closed his eyes and breathed, deep and chilly, pulling his mask down on the exhale. The snow fort was always cold. Bdubs wasn't, though, the brief immersion of being home gone the moment Etho reached a shaky hand to rest across Bdubs' waist. "It's still your life, I think, I'll keep it safe. Get a win maybe, give you something to really be excited about."
Without his coat, the snow seeped into Etho's clothes, leaving him cold and wet as he sat up. The sun had set. Session hours were over.
Etho leaned down, and kissed Bdubs' cheek. Then, his lips, and if a few tears dripped onto his face in the process, at least he wasn't awake to notice.
Contrary to popular belief, Doc enjoyed slow mornings.
He was an early riser, when his ambitions were lax enough to allow him a full night's sleep, or his friends insistent enough to demand it of him. Something about seeing the sun crest the horizon and paint the sky in gloriously bright color always lit a fire under him, reminded him that there was a new day at his disposal and urged him to make the best of it. He could grind for hours on that motivation alone.
But, that didn't mean Doc didn't know how to appreciate downtime. There was a contentedness that came with everything being in its place, his builds ahead of schedule and his workspaces organized in a way he understood, even if nobody else did. In the distance, Doc could hear the sparking redstone and firing pistons of various contraptions, a cadence so familiar that he could tell they were working properly by sound alone.
The eggs were fresh from Doc's chicken farm. The steak had sat in an herb bath overnight. The coffee was ground from Doc's latest attempts to crossbreed a sweeter bean. The berry juice was pressed and chilled that morning. Ren was running downstairs in a rush-
...Wait.
Doc looked up as Ren flitted and fretted around their shared space, disheveled from sleep. "I am so late, dude," Ren said in way of greeting, apology, and explanation, all in one.
"I can see that," Doc said, putting down his coffee mug, "What's the hurry?"
Ren disappeared back upstairs. Into the bathroom, were Doc to guess, the door left ajar for the sound of running water and brushing teeth to travel. "Hah a meeing wih Hreah an' Hrea," Ren tried.
Doc's organic side softened. "Try again," He said, standing from the table. If he'd known Ren had somewhere to be, Doc might not have made him a plate. He'd've at least woken him up to eat it sooner, but no point letting it go to waste now.
There was the sound of swishing, spitting, and a much clearer voice repeated, "A meeting with Stress and Cleo!" Doc heard rummaging from the direction of Ren's room as he worked to slice the steak and scramble the eggs, "Where's my-?"
"Your elytra is hanging in the front hall," Doc interrupted, "Where I left it when I last mended it for you."
"Oh," The delight in Ren's tone seemed out of place, and Doc huffed, shaking his head fondly as the rummaging kicked up again, "I was gonna say my shades, actually, but good to know about that, too!"
"Have you checked your head." It wasn't a question, and there wasn't an answer, just a telling silence that made Doc wheeze with laughter.
When Ren came back downstairs a bit later, he was out of his pajamas, teeth, hair, and tail all brushed. "We're just gonna ignore that little faux pas I did there, alright? Alright," Ren insisted casually, walking past the kitchen to grab his elytra and strap it on.
Doc met Ren in the hall. "You can ignore it," Doc pointed out as he offered him an insulated bundle. The steak and eggs were sliced thin and mixed together, and he'd poured the berry juice into a capped bottle. Ren might have appreciated the coffee, but it wasn't yet decaffeinated enough to be dog hybrid-safe. "I'll be thinking about it for the next hour."
Ren snickered, accepting the bundle with one hand and pulling the front door open with the other. "Yeah, uh, this morning's been a struggle," He stood on his tip toes to press his lips to Doc's, and then he's out the door, calling a "Catch you later, baby!" as he flew off.
Doc watched him go. He shut the door behind Ren, and returned to his place on the couch. His coffee had cooled. Doc took a sip anyway, and didn't even register the tingling of his lips.
"DOC!" Doc coughed in surprise as Ren careened back through the front door. His elytra would need to be mended again, but that was less of a concern than the wide-eyed expression on Ren's face.
Doc hardly had a moment to set his mug down before Ren was trapping him on the couch, a hand holding his weight on either side of the headrest. "What is happening, man?" He asked skeptically.
"Doc, what did I just do?" Ren asked him with an urgency that made Doc's eyes narrow thoughtfully.
"Ruined your elytra, again, and maybe the door?" Doc spared it a glance. Definitely broken, or at least knocked off one of its hinges, hanging askew in the doorway by little more than a prayer.
Ren shook his head, "No no, before that! I left with the bundle you gave me, what did I do right before that?"
Doc thought back. Ren had been rushing to leave. He'd brushed his teeth, gotten dressed, and found his shades. He'd been putting on his elytra when Doc stopped him for the bundle, and then-
Oh. Ren had kissed him.
"You should call Stress and Cleo," Doc said, half-dazed. It had happened so quickly that Doc hadn't even processed the action until now.
Ren raised a brow, "Why's that?"
Doc hooked his arm around Ren's neck and pulled until Ren fell forward, body against him properly, and returned the favor. It was more than the quick press of lips Ren had spared him at the door, but if the wagging of Ren's tail and the feel of his rapid heartbeat was any indication, there weren't any complaints.
They were both breathless when they broke apart, and Doc touched his forehead to Ren's. "You aren't going to make that meeting."
Gem could forgive a lot of weird things. It was the nature of the server to remind her at every opportunity that normal was relative. It was normal for Zedaph to dedicate his time to pursuits unfathomable to his fellow hermits. It was normal for hermits to be as shaped by their bases as their bases are by them, like Tango in the Deep Frost Citadel last season. It was normal for Joe to be a puppet- a very new normal, but nonetheless nobody had batted a lash at it after the first five minutes, because of course Joe would be a puppet.
Gem reckoned she knew enough about this fisherwoman schtick by now to know that her catches going missing as she reeled them in was... less than normal.
It was the same, every time. She'd cast her hook, watch her bobber, and reel the moment she felt something, anything, pull her line taut with enough force to be more than a passing wave. She caught the junk just fine, a growing pile filling the space behind her, but whenever a proper bite came along, there'd be a quick tug on her line like the fish was fighting back, and then, the hook would come up empty.
After that happened for the fifth or sixth time, Gem flopped back on the dock with a groan. She didn't even need the fish! She had barrels full, but now she was annoyed on principle. She earned those catches fair and square.
"I thought I was the favorite!" Gem reprimanded in no particular direction as she sat back up. The ocean would hear her no matter where she was. "Getting bored playing keep-away with Grian's mending book, so now you've gotta take my fish? Look at me! Fish is my thing!" She wasn't about to let the ocean take it from her, either.
One more time, she tried. Kneeling at the very edge of the dock, she cast her line without its sinkers, purposely shallow. She needed a fish she could keep an eye on, no matter the size. When she got a bite, she reeled it in slowly, and just as it breached the water-
A scaly hand reached out and nabbed it off the hook.
Gem gasped, tossing her rod aside to grip the edge of the dock and peer under it. "I saw that! Where is it?!" Only the water's ripples answered her, a blur of distorted motion below that was gone before she could catch a proper glimpse.
There was a beat of silence. Gem sighed in exasperation, pressing her forehead to the weathered wood of the dock.
"I'll forgive you callin' me an it," A voice from behind Gem said, "'cause you look like you're havin' a rough go."
She knew that voice. Gem lifted her head fast enough that she almost tumbled off the dock's edge. Pearl was in the water, one arm propped on the dock to keep herself above it. She grinned, all teeth, and offered a lazy wave with her free hand- a hand that was still holding the fish she'd pulled from Gem's hook. "Thanks for the meal, by the way. This is way easier than hunting 'em myself!"
The fish wasn't large. Pearl tilted her head back, held the fish by its tail, and dropped it unceremoniously into her mouth. Suddenly Gem cared a lot less about her missing catch.
"You're welcome," Gem answered, fully distracted by the state of Pearl's body. She hadn't seen Pearl since the season's introduction, only hearing through the grapevine that she was based near Tango and Etho, but she's pretty sure the fish tail is new. "I should thank you, honestly, I've got more fish than I have space. Hey, speaking of fish, how long have you been one?"
Pearl's eyes shined, letting go of the dock to swim a circle, giving Gem a good view of her tail at work. "Pretty cool, right?" Her scales glittered a shade of maroon that flashed closer to purple in the sun, with accents of green around her chest, face, and down her arms. "I've still got my land legs, of course- oh, oh! And I can be backwards!"
"Backwards?" Gem tilted her head, intrigued, "You mean-?"
"You heard me," Pearl giggled, "Fish top and human bottom! Makes it harder to swim, but it makes for a great prank. Nailed Cleo with it earlier today," She sounded proud.
"That's amazing," Gem said, grinning with mischief, "Get Doc next."
Pearl cackled, "I'll see what I can do."
In time, Gem returned to fishing. Pearl stuck around to chat and catch up, and demonstrated that she was more than capable of fishing for herself. Gem lost a lot of bait to the distraction, watching Pearl's lithe silhouette dart through the water faster than the fish could escape her, but she can't say she minded.
"Here's the part that I don't get," Gem began, reeling in a hefty salmon that Pearl had chased onto her hook, "You were only wearing that salmon helmet for a little bit! How'd your code take to it so fast? Beef's been walking around in a salmonskin suit, and he's not a fish! Grian's practically drinking the ocean! And being a Mer would be so on-brand for me!"
"Oooh," Pearl teased, following Gem to the water's edge to watch her ice her latest catch. She sniffed, "Do I smell a little hint of jealousy, Gem?"
"No," Gem replied wryly, "You smell a lot. I mean, look at you! You're big and fast and pretty, and think of how useful it'd be for building below sea level!" There were ways around it, of course. Conduits, potions, and the like, but it couldn't be the same. "I'd love to experience the underwater world the way you can."
"Do you want to?" Pearl asked suddenly, drifting back to the end of the dock.
Gem quirked a brow, closing the barrel and brushing scales from her hands as she followed, "I mean, of course I do, I just said-?" Pearl was gone. Gem leaned over the edge of the dock, looking for her.
A familiar hand shot up, grabbed a fistful of Gem's tunic, and pulled her into the water.
Gem had been in this water a thousand times before. Feet dangling off the dock, wading waist-deep to untangle equipment, swimming around to maintain the hull of her anchored tugboat, but it felt so much deeper when she didn't intend to be there. Briefly, she panicked, a flurry of bubbles that did more to disorient her. She wondered if she remembered to reset her spawn at her own home.
Familiar hands were holding her arms, holding her upright, and Gem opened her eyes against the salty sting to find Pearl's, mischievous and delighted. 'Relax,' Gem saw her mouth, 'I've gotcha.'
Familiar lips pressed to Gem's, and the gasp that followed was involuntary. The water burned, and Gem tried to cough, to move, but Pearl held her tight until, all at once, the discomfort went away.
Pearl pulled back. Gem watched her, confused by the kiss and the sensation of drowning that no longer felt like drowning. As if in answer, Pearl took Gem's hand and brought it to her own neck.
Gills fluttered under Gem's fingers.
"It won't last long," Pearl said, and Gem could hear her as easily as if they were above water. Pearl offered Gem her arm, "How's about I take you on a tour of that coral reef we saw on day one?"
"You better," Gem answered, holding Pearl's arm, "You owe me for that jumpscare."
Pearl's eyes wrinkled happily, "I bet I can make it up to you."
Laughing underwater was a strange feeling, but Gem could get used to it.
