Cold Water

“I don’t think I’m going to be around next week,” Bain says offhand.

Knauss frowns, “Why?”

“Cal is coming home, said he had some shit for me to do,” he replies easily, telling him absolutely nothing. Knauss’ frown deepens, turning towards the TV. Onscreen a man in sunglasses is talking about the price of a heap of metal junk that apparently humans must value. Humans must purchase things in other places than the mall, because this crowd has been trying to buy a random assortment out in the open air.

“For how long?” Knauss tries for blase, but he’s already thinking about a week without dinner.

“I might be home Tuesday night, but,” Bain shrugs in lieu of actually answering.

“Tuesday?” Knauss vaguely remembers the word from a song about days of the week. He grimaces and tries to remember the tune of it in hopes that the rest of the days will come to mind. Human perception of time as a linear thing is strange. That they measured days in terms of distance - how long they are - rather than the correct way was one of the most difficult things for him to grasp.

“Uh yeah, it’s Friday.”

“How many days?” Knauss asks.

“Cal’s coming home tomorrow, Saturday, and I won’t be back till Thursday. So six days? You ain’t gonna starve while I’m gone are you?” Bain asks skeptically, Knauss shoots him a cold look. Of course he will be hungry.

“I will not die. I will be hungry, return quickly,” Knauss demands, earning a scoff.

“Dude, bossy much? I’ll fucking try, but you can’t rush work stuff like this,” Bain rolls his eyes.

“What is your work?” Now that he had asked Knauss realized he was actually curious. He had never given much thought to what Bain did when he wasn’t with him. What did he get up to? What was life like on the other side of the heavy wooden door that Bain still took the time to knock on every time he could come visit even though the last person to come in other than Bain this late in the evening had been ages ago?

Bain shifted in his seat, “Just, this and that. It’s a family business.”

“What?” Knauss says flatly.

“Dude it ain’t important what I do, just know that I ain’t gonna be here for a week, okay?” Bain quips, Knauss raises a lazy eyebrow but doesn’t otherwise react. Whatever has worked the human up now will pass if he lets Bain simmer down for a moment or two.

“Do you have something to cut hair?” Knauss redirects before Bain can get huffy.

“Uh, what? Like, your hair?”

“Obviously,” Knauss shoots him another flat look over his shoulder. His hair has gotten so long that it’s become an annoyance. He would have had a pod-mate cut it with a sharpened shell or rock ages before now. It’s much more manageable when it’s around shoulder length.

“Shut up, I didn’t know you did that shit. When I first saw you you had fucking girly hair, how was I supposed to know you want it shorter?” Bain complains but he’s already getting up to go get whatever he needs.

“Bring apples,” Knauss calls after him.

“Fuck off,” Bain calls back, but when he knocks he’s got something sharp and an apple that he hands off, “So how do you want to do this?”

“What are those?” Knauss points at the metal things in Bain’s hand.

“Scissors,” he demonstrates, “they cut shit. Do you want to do this yourself or do I gotta do it? It’ll look fucking awful if I do it.”

Knauss scoffs in return, “I will hold, you cut.”

“Whatever, it’s gonna look bad,” Bain shrugs, but when he kneels to start cutting Knauss is just relieved to have the weight off his neck. About halfway through Bain lets out a startled laugh and Knauss winces.

“What?”

“You look like an idiot, here, I just gotta even this out,” Bain grins, earning a scowl. When they finally finish Knauss surveys his reflection in the water and he doesn’t think it looks that bad. He’d never say so to the human, though, so he settles on a neutral hum. Bain huffs an unhappy noise at the lack of feedback but he goes about scooping up the dark hair from the deck to dispose of.

When he comes back Knauss is running his fingers through his much better hair absently, eyes glued to the TV. The silence between them is comfortable but Knauss’ stomach is still churning.

Before Bain finishes packing his things to go back to his room Knauss can’t help but speak up.

“Will you return Tuesday?”

Bain pauses, thumb pressed on the power button of his laptop before he continues packing, “Yeah man, whatever. Tuesday’s fine.”

Knauss spends the rest of the evening trying to remember all the days of the week. When the lights switch to white he’s figured that 4 days is a lot more manageable than 6.

*

The first evening Bain’s gone Knauss is shocked how fast the apathy sets in. He stares out at all the fish swimming lazy circuits in the wash of purple light. How did he spend life like this before? How could he have possibly survived longer than just a few days, let alone a few months? Though it’s not even been a full day, already time is coming unglued at the seams. Hours could have been years.

Rolling over in his den he stares up at the ceiling and the divots in the rock that he’s no longer familiar with. Turning back to the white sand he sees the corals and plants that were used to disguise streams of bubbles that the filters spat out and he realizes that he doesn’t have the urge to redecorate the stale surroundings as much as he used to.

Maybe he should pick the habit back up?

Then again, it probably didn’t say much good about his mental health. He had been so used to swimming the pod’s entire territory every cycle, seeing one plain backdrop to his already dull life would have probably driven him insane.

It actually did, Knauss purses his lip. He still has the scales he lost, under a rock out of sight. There is a human saying about this, but he doesn’t remember it right now so it’s not really important. Outside his den is complete silence, Bain tried to leave the TV on for him but sometime during the day another human must have turned it off and he has no way of getting the remote underwater (Bain had been very adamant).

So that leaves him here. Sitting. Waiting for the hours to trickle by like years and outside the salmon continue swimming their lazy circles.

Knauss grimaces and closes his eyes, willing himself to sleep or for Tuesday. Whichever came first.

*

Another thing Knauss ponders is how captivity has somehow managed to spoil him. Though physically he hasn’t much changed since capture, he has come to expect regular meals nearly every night. Sometimes even with human food as snacks between.

Before, back with his pod, he had been the most active hunter, very rarely would he spend a day relaxing. There was always something to do for the elders, or for the mothers, or the calves, not to mention how difficult food was to come by. He has spent a lot longer than just a few measly days without eating.

So why is three nights with no dinner something akin to torture now?

Knauss makes a sour face, running his fingers through his hair just to have something to do. Just one more day and he can go swimming, though he will have to endure another night of wanting to crawl out of his skin from the boredom.

Just one more day.

*

It’s still early but the LED has been purple for hours and if it had been a normal night then Bain definitely would have been here by now. Maybe it was the wrong day, maybe he hadn’t remembered the list of days correctly, but Knauss had been so sure…

He feels like he’s peeking out to look at the door so often he’s going to have a sore neck, but as the hours drain away the less sure he is that Bain will make it.

With a sigh he leans back against the cave wall to try and rest.

He’s not sure how long he’s there dozing but abruptly the doors slam open and he’s darting out before he can even consider that it might not be Bain. Fortunately for him it is Bain, who is currently squinting at him from the other side of the room. Before he can even open his mouth to say hello Knauss is already speaking.

“You are late.”

Bain blinks, “What?”

“You are late,” Knauss repeats. Suddenly he’s got enough energy to swim laps all night, the hunger that had been eating away at him before is all but forgotten. Bain snorts incredulously but when he starts walking he staggers a little.

“Yeah, whatever. I told you I might be back Tuesday, not that I would. You just whined like a little bitch so I sade it back. Had to get a damn Uber,” Bain slurs more than usual when he speaks and Knauss swims over to the surface to watch him. Something is off.

“What is wrong with you?” Knauss asks urgently. Bain blinks at him in surprise, looking up from his boots that he’d been jerking off.

“Uh, what?”

“Are you injured?” Knauss presses. Now that he thinks about it, Bain had been wobbly when he walked. Something cold settles in his stomach and he quickly pulls himself above water.

“Injur - no. I ain’t that drunk, asshole,” Bain snaps and Knauss furrows his brow.

“Drunk?”

“Yeah. We went out for drinks but then I remembered you was here and I had to get back so I called an Uber - “ Bain is saying but the more he speaks the less sense he makes.

“Are you okay?” Knauss clarifies.

“Yes, Jesus Christ, I’m fine. I just had a few fucking beers,” Bain huffs. After he manages to wrestle his shoes off, Knauss is surprised to see that instead of going over to his chair he walks to where the mer is hanging off the deck. With a skeptical eye he watches Bain sit down hard on the wood floor.

“And that is why you are falling?” Knauss asks, scooting closer. Bain scowls.

“Shut up,” he quips, but he sounds distracted, his eyes are locked on the way the still water ripples in the pale light. Knauss hadn’t even noticed he’d forgotten to turn on the overhead light.

“What are you doing?” Knauss asks a little uselessly as Bain cuffs his jeans and shoves a foot in the water.

Rather than an actual answer Bain just curses and makes a gesture at the water with one flailing hand, “It’s so fucking cold in here.”

“It is not so cold,” Knauss hums mildly.

“You’re a fucking beast though - your arms are the size of my fucking thigh. That’s fucked up. Of course you ain’t cold,” Bain is babbling, Knauss is paying more attention to the casual way he’s kicking his feet in the water. The little waves break against his chest and he watches them till they splash against the glass. When he looks up he realizes Bain is staring expectantly.

Swallowing, he speaks, “Come again.”

Bain sighs like he’s the most difficult thing he’s ever dealt with.

“The fish. You eat the whole thing?”

“Yes.” How did the conversation end up here?

“But you like human food,” Bain says like a statement.

“Yes.”

“Do you think you could drink?” Bain wags an eyebrow.

“You have given me drinks before,” Knauss frowns, trying to remember what Bain had called it other than soda.

“No, not like that asshole. I mean beer.” Already Bain makes like he’s going to stand and Knauss grabs onto a pant leg. Mother, no. If this is what beer does to a human he’s not sure he’s inclined to find out what it will do to him. As if to prove his point Bain falls back down on the deck hard with a sharp yip!

“Maybe another time,” Knauss says. Bain huffs another annoyed noise but he settles on the deck again with no fuss. His hair is a mess, it usually sticks up a little in the front but right now it looks wild, falling on his forehead a little in some places. He’s got quite good bone structure, for a human. A good jaw, nose a bit pointed but nothing radical. His eyes are dark and clear even through the haze of alcohol.

“What are you doin’?” Bain slurs a little. Knauss doesn’t back away - when had he gotten so close?

“Looking.”

“You’re always fucking looking at shit,” Bain frowns but he doesn’t make to move away either. In fact, he spreads his knees a little to accommodate the mer’s girth. Knauss gives them a quick look, legs are strange in an alien way, before turning back to Bain’s face.

“It is nice to see. You have good lines,” Knauss says, tilting his head a bit and placing a hand on the deck by Bain’s leg for better leverage. From this distance things are between looking very sharp and fuzzing out because he’s too close.

Bain scoffs, “You said that before, I ain’t know what that means.”

Great English. Knauss shudders to think of all the poor habits he’s picked up with human speech just based off the poor influence Bain is. Rather than answering Knauss plants his other hand on the deck, effectively boxing the human against him. Bain gives a little nervous titter, swallowing thickly. He doesn’t look away.

“Knauss, dude, what are you doing - !?” Bain squeaks when he closes the distance between them. He allows the kiss for a moment too long before Bain shoves both hands out. Knauss lingers before acquiescing to the silent request for space, “Jesus Christ dude, what the fuck!?”

Licking his lips he grins, sharp teeth glinting in the dark light as he notes that Bain didn’t freeze up like he usually does. Little steps.

“Kissing.” There’s a long beat of silence where he doesn’t move further away than he already has, Bain’s heavy breaths panting in the space between them. His pulse is jumping beneath his tan skin, but Knauss just blinks at him slowly.

Instead of anger, when Bain opens his mouth he manages to squeak out, "Where'd you learn that?"

Knauss chuffs, "Not from Sesame Street." Which is okay, kind of a lie. Sesame Street had just explained the gesture he'd seen before. He mostly remembers a film involving a plane and the humans on screen had collided together when the man returned home. When he had first seen it it had looked more like fighting, though. Like most human gestures of affection - it looks more like combat than compassion.

He can’t say that humans got it all wrong though, licking his lips again he tastes Bain and something thick and sour from whatever he had been drinking. Knauss leans in and catches Bain in another quick kiss.

“Woah! Do you even know what the fuck you’re doing?” Bain yelps, pushing him away.

"Bain. I know what a kiss is," Knauss frowns, leaning forward with the intent to kiss him a third time.

This time Bain is too quick and he shoves a hand in his face, “You say that but I don’t think you do!” Bain squirms in Knauss’ hold, trying to close his legs but he just ends up digging his knees into his sides. It’s an incredibly strange sensation.

“It is something mates do.”

“I ain’t your mate!” Bain squalls, Knauss smirks.

“No, but I am pleased to see you.” While he doesn’t go in for another kiss he does lean against the hand Bain has splayed on his chest. It’s a feeble attempt to keep something as big as he is away, but he knows better than to push it.

“That ain’t the same thing,” Bain pouts.

“No,” Knauss agrees, leaning back on the heel of his palms to give Bain some reluctant room, “It is nice.”

Bain looks at him blankly, blinking a few times without actually seeing. Knauss stares at his mouth before looking up, when Bain still doesn’t move he heaves a sigh. The air is starting to make his gills a little chapped anyway.

“I am hungry, go sleep,” Knauss suggests, letting himself slip back into the water and out from between Bain’s knees. He grabs a fish on his way back to his den. He doesn’t go in until Bain stands on shaky legs and stumbles out of the room, back into the rest of the big house.