#orc reader

It had been a week since this hellish journey had started and the physical toll was starting to affect his mother and youngest sister. He and his other sister could survive better on the scraps of food they were given than the other two. Nephite noticed one night his sister trying to decide how to ration out the stale slice of bread so she could still eat and the youngest could have more. He took his sister's hands and smiled at her as he gave up his ration to be split among the other three. She looked at him with worry but didn't argue about receiving more food. Nephite knew it wasn't sustainable but he feared their destination would bring worse.

A few days of giving up his ration later their captors stopped at a large spring of water. Nephite heard them laughing, almost certainly mocking the poor wood elves they'd captured. He listened, hungry and desperate for the impending meal time but instead he heard shouting. An elf from his village was shouting something he couldn't make out but was certainly defiant, then an orc tried to intimidate him, the sound of a scuffle, and finally the horrific sound of death. His mother covered the youngest's ears but it was too late, she began to cry and wail. She sobbed loudly about how they were going to kill her father and brother.

An orc came over to the cage and banged his sword against it. He said something, it might have been something like "quiet down" or maybe it was just an angry grunt. It did nothing to calm his sister. So of course the orc grew angrier. Nephite could hear similar grunting and banging from other cages in the caravan, almost all of them followed by the sounds and smells of pain or death. The orc in front of him now started to open the cage up, surely to beat or kill his sister for being unable to calm down. Nephite's heart sank as he watched the keys turn.

Suddenly he found himself throwing his entire body in front of the orc. "Please, no!"

The orc says something this time but Nephite has his eyes screwed so tight he can't predict the creature's next movement. Then the orc grabs a headful of his hair, pulling him behind as it lumbers out of the cage. He can hear his mother and sisters shuffling, small squeaks and whimpers as they try not to scream. And then soon he's too far to hear anything.

Nephite is dragged until he reaches the middle of the camp, other more injured elves are already kneeling in the mud. He has to force himself not to be sick when he also sees a few corpses littering the ground. The orc pulling his hair throws him into the mud with the others and even despite the pain and indignation he kneels. Above them the orcs are talking, laughing, presumably mocking this little rebellion. Then all at once they're silent.

"Lift your heads" A new gruff voice speaks.

Nephite lifts his head to see before him on a makeshift throne of pelts and logs, a large orc with scars littering its body and battle hardened eyes that seem to pierce through his smaller body. Immediately he feels a sense of superiority from this orc, as if its only a given he kneels before their feet. Its you.

You look down at the filthy and frankly disgusting elves before you. Every corpse is more gold lost but your crew have already told you about their attempt at rebellion, if you don't punish them they'll get bolder. Your eyes look over the frail bodies, their pretty skin now tainted with dirt and grime and bruises. You were going to force them to bathe today, now you're considering letting your men have at them in front of the cages. So annoying.

"Do you have anything to say for yourselves?" Your tone was commanding, Nephite almost believed you weren't mocking them if not for the jeering laughter from the others.

He looked at the others, their faces awash with indignation and anger, they weren't making a move. He swallowed his pride and crawled forward. "Please spare us."

Your eyes widened slightly as the blue haired elf knelt before you. You caught the other elves disgust at the sight of their fellow elf purposefully bowing before an orc. "Why should I? Your brethren certainly don't seem to want mercy."

"Please, spare my family." Nephite begged, bowing his head low enough that his hair caught in the mud.

Your fellow orcs started to laugh but you raised your hand to silence them. You walked to his thin frail frame in the filth and muck, crouching in front of him you lifted his head. He had a pretty face, his eyes were a beautiful golden color, his hair was silky even without being cleaned and cared for, and his lips were soft and pink. You moved his head upwards so you could get a better look at his body but it was hard to tell past all the dirt what was bruising and what would wash off. You noted he looked a little bit thinner than the others, like he hadn't been eating even the stale bread you'd been feeding them. You met his eyes again as you were about to stand and you saw the pitiful desperation, the need to protect the people he loves, pleading with you.

You dropped his chin. "Will your family be obedient?"

"Y-yes!" He shouted too quickly.

"We'll go get them then." You stood up again to motion for one of your men.

"W-wait please- M.. my sister is young and she's very scared. And my father and brother were separated from us." He grabbed your boot desperately.

You looked down and considered him for a moment. "You just said they would be obedient."

"They will be- Please.. please let me explain things to them." He begged.

"..Alright." You began speaking in orcish to your crew, giving your orders.

The orc responsible for taking care of Nephite and his family grabbed the blue elf by his muddy hair to start dragging him behind again. You smacked his hands out of the elf's hair and clearly scolded him, a bit harshly, before you were by Nephite's side again. You were gentle as your rough hands eased him up out of the mud. He wasn't grabbed or pulled and he wasn't even shackled with heavy chains. It was like you were testing his promise of obedience, if he tried to run now he would likely be slaughtered and if it wasn't for his family he might have even made the attempt. Instead he walked slowly between the orc who had grabbed his hair and you, who was following them for some reason. As soon as he could no longer see any of the other elves he heard the sickening sounds of slaughter.

Nephite practically threw himself into his family's arms when he was returned to their shared cage. His mother and sister fretted over him, over the scent of blood on him and the mud in his hair. It was hard to catch his breath through tears of relief but eventually he calmed himself down enough to explain to them the situation. They just all have to behave and do as the orcs say and they won't just live they might even be freed. Nephite could see his mother's hesitation, her pride but also her fear for what they might ask of her and her daughters, but his sister reassured her it was for the best. Nephite walked to the door of the cage with the rest of his family who bowed their heads in respect to the orcs.

"My brother and father are over with the other boys." Nephite pointed out their cage to you and the orc behind you grunted and snarled.

You looked down at him, your expression somewhere between pity and anger. "That's not for the men. That's where we sanctioned off the disorderly elves."

You went over to the cage, hand on your weapon, as you banged the cage. Upon seeing their family Nephite's father and brother ran over, a fight in the younger one's eyes as he looked between you and the small elves. You didn't want to make anything worse so you motioned for you and your fellow orc to fall back while the family reunited. Nephite wasn't anything special from the look of him, the same kind of elf bitch you were used to seeing used and thrown out on the streets but he was somehow different. He didn't have the same foolish pride that led elves like him to bloody deaths he was more worried about the other members of his family. You had planned to turn them all into expensive obedient toys the moment you got the chance but you couldn't help but respect Nephite's shamelessness. Even now you were watching him beg his family to just pretend to behave just to keep themselves alive. The self preservation and the desperation was absolutely beautiful on his face.

"Th-they agreed to behave..." Nephite came up to you, hands slightly trembling.

You motioned for the cage to be opened and the two male elves were dragged out. You could see apprehension on their faces as they waited for the other shoe to fall. You spoke to the other orc in orcish before you took one of Nephite's small delicate hands.

"There's a lake nearby, you and your kin can bathe there."

---

It was impossible to ignore the suspicious and angry eyes on you while you watched the elf family bathe. The riled up eldest child kept glaring at you with disgust and rage while his father kept staring at you like you were a wild animal. Its not unusual, the elves are told stories about how horrible and savage and cruel orcs are while orcs are told the reverse stories about elves and their cruelty. It's a wonder if you all would even be here without all those stories always flying around.

While you were sitting there watching and wondering Nephite walked up to you with his head bowed politely. You looked over his freshly cleaned body, the mud washed away revealing his thin frame that had a few bruises but was still beautiful like fine glass. He looked nervous, frightened, and still so much braver than any elf you'd ever met as he continued to show you respect.

"Speak."

"Have you taken a bath yet...? I... I've heard stories of elves being forc- I mean... Assisting in orc bath houses. I don't-" He shifted from side to side.

"Is your plan to seduce me and then when I'm undressed your brother steals my blade and kills me?" You laugh at the pathetic plan from stupid elves. "Do you realize how quickly my wolves would slaughter you? They'd rip your corpses apart and drag your entrails-"

"Stop-!" The blue haired elf's golden eyes were full of tears. You almost felt bad for being vulgar.

"Anyway... Your plan won't work, just know that." You looked away from his pathetic state and back to the other elves.

Nephite noticed he didn't have your attention any longer and he felt his stomach churn as you looked out at his sisters. He could feel his own desperation rising past the point of no return, he would throw away his entire life to protect his family. He moved closer to you until his hairless cunt rested on your knee and his arms wrapped around your neck.

"You're right I.. I have ulterior motives but it's not that I'm trying to kill you." He didn't know if it was intentional anymore that his voice sounded so small and weak.

You looked back at him, surprise quickly turning into amusement on your face. "Are you going to confess you're one of those dirty elf whores who always wanted to be an orc's slave?"

He had to fight the bile in the back of his throat. "No... I'm just.. scared. I.."

He swallowed again when he noticed your eyes were completely fixed on him now. "I don't like how you're looking at my sisters and I know we're all hungry... If.. If I could-"

You grabbed his hips and forced him to sit properly in your lap. "Are you really suggesting that you'll take the place of the females? For a bit of extra food?"

Nephite wrapped his arms completely around your neck, drawing your faces even closer. "I'm a virgin too.. It would be worth it..."

You had never personally taken an elf in any sense. The disgusting haughty personality where they look at you like you're trash even when they're covered in orc cum isn't something you particularly care to deal with. Sure they're pretty, it looks fun to break them, but that pride never seems to really break. Even the elf on your lap right now doesn't look broken, just desperate. You wrapped an arm around his waist to hold him still while another hand played with his freshly cleaned silky hair.

"You... Do you love your family so much? You would even die for them?" You ran your fingers through strands of his long soft hair.

"...If my death would be what secures their future."

"I have a proposition for you. I will guarantee their safety and comfort for the rest of their lives if you become my personal slave wife."

Nephite was taken off guard and his big desperate eyes lit up with excitement and joy. "Really? You would protect them from other orcs too?"

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, yes the only thing that will kill them is the passage of time."

Nephite hugged you tightly. "Yes! Yes! I'll be your wife, your slave, I'd even drink mud if you wanted!!"

Your chuckling turned into full blown laughing at the reaction. "You're far too excited for what you've just agreed to."

---

You kept your promise. That night after all of his family had bathed you and your men had given them clean clothes and an actual meal. They had to be shackled but were given far more privilege than the rest of the elves who wasted away in their cages. And the entire time Nephite acted as a perfect little servant wife, pouring your drinks, massaging your shoulders, groveling at your feet if you asked him. While the elves certainly seemed jealous and bitter that they weren't receiving the same good treatment the moment you would bring Nephite over and make him humiliate himself for your amusement they all agreed that it wasn't worth it.

Eventually you and your men dropped the cages of elves at the black market and the caravan scattered and dispersed into different groups. You formed a significantly smaller group of the men who were all more eager to get home with their wealth and a mage you paid steeply for.

The next stop on your journey was an elf village in the middle of orc territory, a village that obeyed orc rule and paid for protection. Nephite was tearful when you dropped his family off there but he seemed very happy that it was just like a regular elf village and they could live peaceful lives. You even promised him that he would be allowed to visit if he was a well behaved little wife.

And finally you were home. There was a feast to celebrate you and your men's return. You weren't the village chief but you were pretty close being one of the strongest orcs in the village so your return came with a lot of work and news. Lots of frankly boring meetings that postponed what you actually wanted to do. But then that just gave Nephite time to stew.

---

The process of making an elf your wife isn't as simple as saying it and then fucking him. It doesn't even involve the same ritual as marriages between orcs. The process begins by marking the elf in question with permanent ink. Elf slaves will be marked with several different kinds of markings to establish their owner, position, the time they were obtained, where to return them if they escape. Nephite's arms were marked as normal, your family crest and town along with anniversary and his importance to you all easily displayed on his arms. His stomach held a different sort of marking, a tattoo that would be the vessel for a powerful spell.

The second part of the process is imbuing the stomach mark with magic from the orc owner and a magic user. You spilled your blood over the marking to transfer your magic energy before the mage reinforced it with an intense amount of power. The spell would enable Nephite's small frail elf body to accommodate your cock and even carry your children. It also left him feeling incredibly horny and desperate, his pussy constantly dripping and he would grind against anything he found.

Finally to solidify the spell and the marriage you had to stabilize it by breeding the elf in question under a full moon. If you missed the full moon then the spell wouldn't be complete and you'd have to go through a lot of trouble to reinstall it. As that night grew near you and Nephite grew excited.

Under the white light of the full harvest moon your bed of furs looked ethereal, and the elf on top of the furs looked even more gorgeous. The way he was looking at you, you could even believe this was love. Your large body dwarfed him, almost like you swallowed all the light as you hovered over him. Your large rough hand ran up his incredibly thin and smooth leg, pushing the frail limb up until his knee was against his stomach and his ankle hooked on your shoulder. The drooling and needy cunt between his legs greeted you and your thick fingers. There was no reason to be gentle with a glorified sex toy but still you pressed your index finger slowly into the sopping slit. Nephite let out a soft moan like he was just finally getting comfortable.

You leaned down, your tusks rubbing against his neck before your lips began to softly nip at the fragile skin. "Such a good bitch." You praised against his skin.

His tight virgin pussy stretched to accommodate the size of your fingers but he did not cry out in pain. Moans fell from his lips like prayers as you started to spread him open. The tight walls squelched and contracted around your digits like the endless slick was trying to suck you in deeper. It was the filthiest sounds you'd ever heard between his sinful pussy and his heavenly moans.

You could feel your heavy cock straining against the thin cloth you wore under your pelts. Every sound and squeeze sent a shock through your entire body that made your cock twitch and jump. Heat spread through your entire body like a well of anticipation. You could feel conscious thought giving way to your instinctual need to breed. You removed your fingers with a wet pop which earned a heavy huff from the elf underneath you.

"Don't worry, pup. Gonna fuck you." You assured him as your slick soaked hand made short work pulling away the cloth and pelts that covered your groin.

Nephite shifted upwards enough to catch the glimpse of your enormous length. Your girth was easily the width of his arm and probably half the length of it. A size that otherwise would have killed him or severely damaged him but now his body had been made just to accommodate the massive length. His head that had been dizzy for the weeks leading up to this moment was now filled with surprising clarity.

"Fuck me."

You didn't need to hear it twice, your body was already screaming at you to oblige him. You lined your bulbous tip with his soaking cunt, the size of which practically dwarfed his entire pussy. You could hear Nephite's breath catch, either in anticipation or fear, and you realized that you weren't really breathing either. Part of you wanted to assure him, promise it would be good, but then again you both were aware his pleasure didn't really matter. You rocked your hips forward, the tip rubbing against his drippy folds and soaking your cock in his juices. Electricity shot through both of you and you moaned loudly.

"Please-"

Nephite's soft cry was followed by his arms wrapping tightly around your neck. It was a familiar position, it reminded you of the night he promised to be your wife. And now a few months later you were going to fulfill that promise. Your large hands rested on either side of his head as you looked down at the absolutely gorgeous elf. He was marked for you, he was wet to take you, he was born to be in this moment right now. Your thick tip pressed into his impossibly tight hole and you let out a loud snort as warning before you finally shoved in.

Nephite screamed as his virgin pussy stretched beyond what should be possible and his mind melted into nothing. His tight walls spasmed and squeezed as his sweet honey sprayed all over your body. You could barely see the gold of his eyes anymore with how hard they rolled back into his head. How he tempted you to follow him with your own building orgasm but you resisted. You waited for him to come down, his body twitching under you as his walls started to relax just a little bit. You rolled your hips forward and your length sunk down, down, down into his pussy, until you were a little over a third of the way inside. You felt his body's natural resistance but you knew it didn't matter, he would be stretched so full he might die.

You shifted your position, getting onto the balls of your feet and using your muscular thighs to press his knees against his chest. His entire body folded in half so his legs stretched out above his head and you had so much more access to his body. Between your bodies you could already see the tip of your cock bulging in his stomach inside the very mark you had stained him with. The mark itself had shifted form slightly to show something like an empty tank waiting for you to fill it. Nephite let out a small grunt quickly followed by a low whine.

"Cum inside-"

You didn't need to be told twice as you felt your sense of reason slip from your mind. You used your large size and heavy weight to slam yourself even deeper into his sopping pussy. Then you dragged your hips slowly out, it was like agonizing torture as his tight walls clung to you. Then your weight fell onto him again pushing your cock so deep you could see your length stretching his stomach fully now. Nephite made a choked sound as his cunt gushed again, squirting more of his love juices all over you. His filthy incontrollable squirting made the sounds from your bodies even lewder.

You lifted yourself until only your tip remained inside his cunt and then slammed into him with a wet schlap of skin meeting skin. You could feel the heat of lust coiling in your stomach like a heavy knot begging to be cut free. The pulsing, twitching pussy desperately trying to milk you and the lewd choked moans of the elf underneath you were enough to drive a man to madness. The only thing that kept you from tipping over the edge was the consuming desire to fill him completely. Ignore how his body was stretched out beyond reason to accommodate the massive size difference, you weren't completely inside him yet. He could still be fuller.

You let out a primal grunt as you slammed down into his fragile body again. A little bit more. You pushed your cock deeper and deeper into his small body. Finally Nephite, who was absolutely drunk on lust and succubus magic, let out a pathetic hoarse sob. Your tip rested against his cervix, nestled so deeply inside his body, and your heavy balls were flush against his ass. Your bodies were completely joined, it felt like every inch of your skin was touching him. You were both unsure where one of you began and the other ended, minds, bodies, souls intertwined in a filthy union. You couldn't think of anything anymore, words were lost on you as you grunted animalistically.

Cum erupted into his womb staining his formerly virgin walls white with thick ropes. The mark on his stomach glowed a deep pink as the tank filled a little bit. Pink smoke seemed to fill the room and encircle your bodies but you were both too far gone at this point. The smoke filled your lungs and like a man possessed you began a rough animalistic pace. You fucked into Nephite so hard you could have shattered his hips. But you and him were too far away from the physical reality of your violent mating. You were too busy devouring his soul and staining every bit of him in your colors and he was drowning in you.

---

You're at full capacity now, and you had expected your merman friend to stop and rest as he usually does during his longer courier runs, but you haven't seen head or tail of him yet.

You have found yourself looking out at the water more than once, absentmindedly scanning the spaces between white caps for his bright blue dorsal fin cresting the surface. 

Eyes skimming the water one last time as the downpour becomes unbearable even for you, you sigh, and head back inside to your cabin.

He probably just didn't need to stay this time, you assure yourself. You just hope that he’s somewhere safe from the impending storm.

You strip out of your rain gear in the open bridge area before walking into your sleeping quarters, so as to not make any puddles on the floor. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep after climbing into bed, more fatigued than you realized and rocked to sleep by the familiar roll of the ocean.

You wake later with a start to the sound of something heavy thudding loudly on the deck above you, audible even over the howl of the strong winds and pelting rain.

What was that? 

Probably equipment or supply crates bumping against the gunwales from the force of the storm. Usually nothing to worry about, but that sounded louder than normal, and something may have broken loose despite your detailed preparations. At worst, a thrill-seeking passenger decided to take a stroll in the storm and is in grave peril…

Caution wins out, and you rouse yourself from your comfort.

Hurriedly, you jump out of bed, pull on your raincoat and the pair of waxed trousers you have set out for tomorrow, and step into your boots. You have the foresight to grab your handheld spotlight as you head out of your cabin to go investigate.

The raging winds whip about you as you take a step out onto the open deck of your ship, shielding your face from sea spray with your forearm, your free hand holding you steady. Your eyes follow the beam of light through the poor visibility, searching for the source of the noise.

A lone crack of lightning streaks across the sky, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

It doesn’t take long to locate a familiar pop of vibrant color. Beautifully reflective azure scales illuminate under the focused beam of the spotlight, stark against the greyed out haze of your surroundings. 

Sprawled out across the wooden planks is your dear friend - mostly limp and listless, being tossed around across the slippery surface with the force of each strong wave. He's managed to wrap the guide rope up around one of his hands, holding on for dear life as he's pelted by the elements.

"Noa!" You shout to the merman over the tumult of wind and rain and thunder, your body rushing into motion without active thought.

He weakly lifts his head at your voice, but if he responds, it's completely drowned out. He’s not shifted his tail into legs for some reason - so you steel your resolve to carry him in.

After stowing your spotlight in your pocket and waiting for a break in the onslaught of waves, you heave the merman’s body up with a grunt of effort. There is a surprising density to his athletic, piscine form, like that of most merfolk. 

The motion of hauling heavy loads of fish may still be second nature, but you've grown a bit soft in the middle since your fishing boat days. Life as a ferry ship captain carting tourists around the various island chains of the Indra-Thalassic isn't anywhere near as physically grueling - something you're thankful for, even if it makes this situation slightly more challenging.

You wobble slightly on the path back, your boots threatening to lose traction on the slippery deck from the uneven weight. 

Much more distracting is the feeling of his damp, smoothly scaled body against your fingertips. You can’t help the way you feel about him, despite how much you’ve tried to quash it over the course of your friendship… And you certainly don’t think it’ll ever be reciprocated, so you’ve resigned some time ago to continue to keep it to yourself. 

He would have to be the one to initiate a relationship anyway, due to Orcish standards…

But now is not the time to ponder this. So you brush those thoughts away, and try hard to focus on getting you both back to safety.

Luckily, you know your ferry ship like the back of your hand, and you manage to navigate back into the main cabin despite the treacherous weather and low light.

You carry your friend across the threshold like a prized catch. The heavy door shuts on its own behind you with a thud.

“Can I get a room?” Noa asks wryly, his voice tired.

You can't help but laugh.

"Boat's full up." You say simply, and then think to clarify as you glance out the porthole; "But I’m not turning you away in this mess. You can share my cabin for the night."

“Thanks.”

“You alright?”

“I’ll live. Just… too tired for legs right now.” He weakly motions to where his tail sways beneath your grasp.

"Got it. ...Now where to put you, then…" You wonder aloud. “Ah, I know.”

You enter your personal quarters, pass the alcove where your bed is, towards the head. The compact corner tub seems a good enough place as any to store a merman that’s physically incapable of shifting at the moment, so you carefully deposit him there.

“Huh. Neat.” Noa remarks, leaning back against the broad edge of the tub and removing his waterproof courier pouch. His bright eyes run over the bathroom fixtures in interest, his coiled braids quivering softly with the slight movement of his head.

From what he’s told you of his life, he hasn't spent a lot of time on land, so you have to wonder if he’s ever even seen a bathtub in person before.

“You must be cold and sore after all that.” You sit on the edge of the tub and turn the faucet, letting comfortably hot water rush over his flank and begin to fill the tub.

“Ah… That’s… nice.” He relaxes considerably.

"Why on Hearth were you out swimming during a cyclone?”

"Couldn't pass up the job, the gold was way too good." He sighs, holding a spread hand to his brow. "But the storm came in too fast, even for me."

He always seems to be working himself too hard. It makes you worry for his health…

“Mmn. How’d you get up on deck?”

“Jumped.” He says, far too nonchalantly for the impressive feat of agility he’s describing.

"Ah." You chuckle in admiration. “You’re amazing.”

“Keep telling me that and my head will get fat.” He smirks.

“Where were you going that was that important, anyway?”

Noa simply growls, throwing his head back in frustration and scrubbing his face with his palms.

"Sorry. That bad?"

"No. Just- don't worry about it." His brow knits, and his tail slaps the edge of the acrylic in irritation with a hollow thump. "I just… had a second stop there’s no way I’m going to make now. Stupid delivery held me up…"

“Hmmm. That’s rough.” You rub your beard, steering the conversation to a topic that will cause him less distress. “...You know, I don't think I've ever seen your colors like this. Did you always have so much purple in your scales?"

Noa’s scales are usually a gradient of blue and white, with stark white horizontal stripes lining his sides. But now his fins are an almost ultraviolet purple, with the darkened shade of his blue scales making the purple accents pop. The small, thin fins on his hips flutter rhythmically under the rising water.

"No, it's… seasonal."

That makes sense, you suppose. You don’t see him much at all during the migratory months.

“Suits you, is all.” 

You chat a bit more, until the tub has sufficiently filled. You cut off the flow with a metal squeak of the knob and rise to your feet.

It’s difficult to pull yourself away - you would spend so much more time with him if you could. And you may or may not be enjoying this view… as guilty as you feel for it.

"I should get some more rest before daybreak. But I'll be right over there if you need anything." You motion to where your bed is nestled into the wall.

"Thank you again." Noa nods, the grateful smile and sense of relief in his body language more than enough gratitude. "For always being here when I need you."

"Haha, not a problem at all, my friend."

You second guess stripping back down to your underclothes now that you have company, but your desire for comfort wins out. The humid air from the storm all but requires it. 

So you do, and quickly switch off the lights before returning to your bed for some much needed rest after all this excitement.

You hazily wake up what must be a few hours later, to the sound of water sloshing and wet footsteps. It'd be irritating being woken up for the second time in one night, if you weren't used to it coming with the territory. Something always needs attention on a boat.

More than anything, you're confused. Then, you remember - Noa is in your cabin tonight. 

"Nnnh-?" You go to say his name, instead being abruptly silenced by the sight you register.

Noa is standing on his own strong legs at the foot of your bed, water rapidly wicking off his completely bare skin. The saturated color of his scales is even more apparent in the brief flashes of light from the storm outside.

"Cold." He says simply, quietly, staring you down with a strangely intense look in his eyes.

Ah, the tub water must've gone cold.

You grunt in acknowledgement, holding up your quilt and motioning for him to join you without putting too much thought into it. 

Noa doesn’t seem to need an explicit verbal invitation, climbing up onto your raised bed without a problem.

But rather than the slightly awkward warmth of sharing a blanket at a platonic distance you were expecting, you get something much different.

He straddles you, his weight pressing sweetly against your groin. From this angle you have a clear view of the pink flush on his lower stomach, framing his swollen, needy genital vent, even in the low light.

“Noa?” You finally inquire, your voice still froggy as you let the raised quilt slip from between your fingers. Certain parts of your body are waking up faster than others.

“I was going to Spawn. That's where I was headed,” He finally admits in a pained, breathy response. “Thought I could make it in time… But…"

Well, the subtext there is pretty clear.

You’re stunned for a moment, unsure that this is really happening, or if you’re still dreaming. It’s not every day the object of your unrequited affection crawls into your bed and essentially asks for sex.

Noa presses his hips flush against yours and grinds, restless and agitated in his movements, as if you needed any more confirmation of what he wants.

Your body has taken little time to react, given your pre-existing affection for him. You can feel the persistent throb of your newly erect cock as it prods against Noa’s pelvis.

You know you shouldn’t… that this will end in heartache, like it normally does for you… You’re fairly sure Noa isn’t typically into men and is just desperate, and that never ends with anything that lasts longer than arrival at the next port.

…But it’s him. 

The rubbery soft skin gliding against your own makes your head empty of any other thought, valid concern or not. Not to mention the pressure and movement against your loins starting to let it take the helm over your brain.

“You know I need something a little more direct than that to work with.” You say, the taboo of initiating on your end the only thing still holding you back.

“Please,” Noa all but begs, his voice shuddering. “I need… Nngh… Help.”

Thunder cracks outside, breaking the silence, followed by a flash of lighting illuminating Noa’s form on top of you.

Ultimately, you are weak. You can’t resist, and start rubbing yourself against him in turn from beneath.

An excited, ragged sigh escapes Noa’s chest in response.

Oh. You definitely need to hear more of that.

You reach down, drawing a line with a finger along the edge of his swollen slit, enjoying the way he squirms at the sensation. Then you press your finger inside, immediately sinking in deep from the copious amount of natural lubricant.

Noa gasps in surprise and a brief look of panic flashes across his face, before it’s completely obliterated by an expression of enjoyment, his eyes glazing over from watching your fingers thrust in and out of his own body so easily. The muscles around his opening start to contract rhythmically around the intrusion, squeezing you.

You pull your fingers out when you feel Noa’s phallus start to emerge, rigid but still slightly squishy to the touch.

Noa shifts to hover over you, balancing his weight on his palms and knees, and you allow yourself to be pressed back against the bed. The ends of his braids tickle your exposed chest.

“Aah- Never done this out-  outta the water.” He chokes out in warning. “Or with a man-”

You want to reach upwards - hold the back of his neck firm and kiss him - and for a moment you’re tempted to act on the impulse. But, you resist.

"It's not all that different." You reassure him. “I don’t have any lube at the moment, so my mouth will have to do.”

Noa grunts in approval, clearly fine with whatever he can get at this point.

You hook your legs on the edge of the bed and shift your body downward using your calf strength. Your mouth trails down Noa's chest and torso as you go, until you're at hip height, staring down his now throbbing cock.

Grip firm on his hips, you guide him into your mouth. Noa, unsurprisingly, tastes a bit like the ocean, a subtle hint of salt pooling on your palette..

He immediately lets out a shuddering gasp that morphs into a groan, hips bucking forward in automatic, biological need.

Your curved tusks press against the firm muscles of his inner thighs, his skin soft and ticklish against your facial hair. 

After adjusting his knees into a position at your shoulders slightly more conducive to pumping, he tests the roll of his hips. You grunt encouragingly, sucking and pressing your tongue along the underside as he moves, pulling an eager groan out of him.

It doesn’t take long for him to become comfortable with the motion, and he starts to shamelessly and forcefully thrust into your mouth. The tip of his cock repeatedly jabs at the soft flesh at the back of your throat. The urge to gag is strong, but you manage to tamp it down and relax your throat. You dig your calloused fingers into the side of his thighs, bobbing your head against his strokes.

Despite being fit and having enough stamina to swim cross-ocean for a living, Noa is clearly already worn down from his recent ordeal; already at his limit barely after starting.

In what seems like no time, Noa lets out a string of breathless grunts and his struggling thighs tremble around your jaw. You’re nearly blinded by his vibrant colors that seem to literally light up the dark cabin - The stripes on his sides flicker in phosphorescent white, like the streaks of lightning outside. 

Cum shoots down your throat without you even needing to swallow, completely coating it. The subtle salty taste from before is a full-blown brine now.

Noa rolls off of you and limply collapses onto his back against the bed, chest heaving for air so deeply you can see the pink flash of his gills peek out between his ribs each time his lungs expand.

“T-Thanks- Sorry? Nngh-” He gasps in shame, looking like all his life force has left his body. 

“No problem at all.” You say, a bit hoarse, rubbing your throat.

By the time you’ve fully caught your own breath and propped yourself up, he’s already out like a light, fast asleep exactly where he landed.

You let out a sigh of a laugh, and get up to lumber into the head to take care of yourself.

Not the least sleep you’ve gotten in one night in this line of work…

You did tell Rosing a good bit about what happened - she's just too good at extracting information from you, basically being your family at this point. You just tried to stay mindful of which specific details you shared, for Noa's sake.

"Yeah. It'll probably only take half a day. But I know you like to take your leave in port, so I wanted to make sure that was okay with you before committing to this plan.”

“Doesn’t bother me, if it’s what you need to do. Dancehall will still be there.”

That’s a pretty glowing endorsement from her, so you’re pleased to have the support.

The day after next, you've arrived at your destination and anchored your boat. Unsurprisingly, it’s begun to languidly drizzle while you’ve made your preparations. 

You pull on your raincoat and say your goodbye to Rosing. Then, you board your captain's gig and lower yourself into the water with the winch.

It's difficult to not second guess yourself, when it's just you and the sound of the outboard motor and the raindrops smattering loudly against the rubber hood covering your head. 

You are technically going against his wishes by getting involved, but… You know you can help him. You have the ability to easily solve his problem- how could you claim to love someone and sit idly by while they suffer? You certainly can't.

The rain is persistent the entirety of the short trip towards the other, looming ship, to the point of you wondering if the small dinghy will completely sink while you're gone as you secure it. …A risk you're willing to take, you decide as you climb out of it.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been on a working ship; a vessel that isn’t completely spotless as to not offend tourist sensibility, but one that exists in a constant state of semi-grime. Still, it’s far less disgusting than the deep permeating filth of a fishing boat - at least the rain is giving it a good wash.

It doesn’t take much time between someone spotting you as out of place, and you being escorted to the captain’s cabin. The cabin itself is pretty cluttered and dingy, but it isn’t its state of cleanliness that puts you at unease, so much as the poor lighting exacerbated by the weather. Every corner is coated in thick shadow, like a spectral hand could reach out and grab you if you get too close. You take off your raincoat and hang it on a nearby coat rack.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.” Uttar actually has a flash of surprise visible on his face before it swiftly vanishes underneath his hardened features. He motions to the ratty velvet padded chair across from him. “Folks tend to get lost.”

"Hello, nice ship you have here.” You take a seat and say, meaning it for the most part- you've been on much, much worse, after all. As far as fishing boats and pirate ships go, there isn't that much difference besides decor.

"My line a’work has it's perks. Better than breaking my back haulin' fish all day. But I’m sure you know all about that, yerself.” Uttar grins as he pulls a cigar box from his desk drawer. 

“True.” You have to question just how similar your work is now, but you can at least agree on that point…

"Now, what brings ya to my neck of the seas?" He slowly selects a cigar, and motions to offer you one. You decline with a subtle hand movement, so he puts the box away and proceeds to light his own. “Can’t imagine a little social call in this sort a’downpour.”

“No, this is more of a business matter, I suppose.” You chuckle, trying to break up the undercurrent of slowly building tension in the conversation. "It's regarding… a mutual friend."

"Well now, that does sound interestin'. I was under the impression that we didn't have many a’those left these days."

“Oh, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. You seemed to enjoy yourself the other day, at least?”

“Didn’t say I didn’t, but I haven’t seen head or tail of you in near’a decade and then I see ya twice in a fortnight? Things don’t just go’n spring up like that without reason, as it were.”

He’s not asking the question directly, but it’s there all the same.

"The reason is Noa." You say, cutting through the niceties to the heart of the issue.

You dig a hand into the breast pocket of your kurta and set a neatly packed case of thin, flat traveler's gold bars on the desk.

Uttar takes a long drag from his cigar and rubs his wiry beard in thought, probably to avoid looking like a salivating hound upon seeing that much gold presented to him.

“Didn’t think ya the type of man that needed to buy himself whores.” Uttar sneers in a teasing, infuriatingly chummy tone. “Old charm not what it use’ta be?”

“Oh no, I do fine for myself in that area.” You keep your tone even and a smile on your face, even if the language choices he’s making really make you want to reach across the desk and throttle him yourself. “And to be as clear as possible, this isn’t for any service of his. It’d be to pay off his debt in full.”

“Surely ye understand why lettin’ ya just waltz in here and purchase one o’ me gold makin’ assets out from under me is a bad business decision.” He draws a long inhale of smoke, and lets it filter out through his nostrils, dubious. “Interest is the whole point of lendin’.”

“I thought you might say that… If it’s not enough, I can make up the remainder."

"A whole lot to spend on a ship with a broken mast, that." He mutters derisively. “Yer outta yer mind.”

“I feel quite sound of mind, actually.” You chuckle politely and unclench your jaw. You’re not sure exactly what he’s getting at, but the implication that Noa is broken angers you, regardless. “But thanks for your concern.”

Calm. Deep breath. You just have to get through this without trying to kill him, and it’s almost over.

"Oi… Fine. It's a deal." Uttar extends his free hand over the table for you to shake after a few more moments of deliberation. "But only because we got history, aye?"

"I appreciate it." You shake his extended hand.

The cabin settles into a somewhat tense, but not unwelcome silence while Uttar double-counts the gold tablets and scribbles some notes down in his own records as he goes.

But something that's been on your mind for a while just won't vacate the space. You know it'd be better to ask Noa directly, but you haven't exactly had the opportunity…

"I do have a question, if you don't mind me asking."

"Aye?"

"Do you know what his debt was for?"

"Dunno. Investigatin' sordid history ain't in my job description." Uttar shakes his head, knocking some ash into the overfilled tray. "These contracts don't track that sorta detail, anyhow. I can tell ya I bought his debt off a pleasure boat eastern like. So that leaves ya with what? Drinkin' or druggin', or gamblin', or fuckin' to excess - then tryin’a stiff the tab."

"That doesn't really sound like him..." 

"Oi? Didn't realize yer boy toy would come with some pricy habit or another?" Uttar laughs, making a show of pressing the stamp into the vermilion ink and then onto the paper. When he lifts the stamp, a bright red rectangle containing the Orcish characters for 'paid' remains, emblazoned across the section containing his information. "They always do. But we already shook on it all proper-like already, so no refunds!"

He slides the paper across to you.

You take the parchment. It feels strangely light, for how much weight it's been causing Noa to carry for who knows how long.

While scanning the information to make sure it's correct, you notice you overpaid by a considerable amount. But that's fine -  You can always refill your savings. What's important is the relief you're feeling on Noa's behalf. And honestly, you expected to be stiffed when you came here, so you're not exactly surprised. 

"Her Ladyship pick up her special cargo yet? …" Uttar speaks into the receiver he’s picked up from his desk. "Good. Bring 'im here." 

It doesn't take long for the cabin door to be thrown open and Noa to be thrust through it.

"Ugh, you don't have to be so rough, asshole! I know where-"

Then he sees you, and freezes in his tracks. He stands motionless as the cabin door closes behind him. 

"There he is!" Uttar coos facetiously and curls a thick finger at him. "C'mere."

"...Why?" Noa sneers in suspicion at Uttar, but is looking directly at you when he says it- as if he's questioning you as well, for entirely different reasons. 

"Just c'mere, you obstinate shit! Spirits, I don't know if I'll miss ya or be chuffed to be rid o’ya!"

"Rid of me?" Noa says incredulously, eyes still locked on you, before they settle on the paperwork and gold still strewn on the table. A panicked look crashes over his features as he puts the visual clues together.

But Noa still complies, moving to stand next to Uttar and spinning around when he motions to. 

Uttar produces a short, wooden wand from the pen cup on his desk; one carved with uniform runes, typical of the preloaded varieties you can buy in most magic shops, that are easily usable by non-magi. He presses it to the top of Noa’s back, right between the shoulder blades.

There is a small fizzle of magic at work, followed by a shimmering, nearly imperceptible shattering of something unseen. Noa raises his hand over his shoulder to rub the affected area, and when his hand moves, the small marking on his skin is gone too.

"There ya go," Uttar says with an almost bored air of finality as he waves his hand. "We’re all square. Trackin’ rune's gone. He's your problem now."

Even though he’s visibly mad at you and you definitely have more pressing matters that require attention, you can’t help but be struck with just how gorgeous you think he is. And you’re simply so pleased to see him again after how things were left, it’s hard to think straight with your heart hammering in your chest.

But to his credit, you’d be mad if you were left in the dark like this, too. You just have to get somewhere you can have a calm, rational conversation, and you’re sure that he’ll understand why you chose to do this.

You rise from the chair, rolling up the contract.

“You heard him.” Noa shakes his head in disapproval and shrugs his shoulders, voice dripping with simmering resentment. “I’m your problem now.”

“I know this looks bad-” You begin to at least start some verbal damage control on the way out.

“It doesn’t matter how it looks. I don’t get a say in it, right?”

“That’s not the case at all-”

"This is all real sweet love reunion ‘n all. Real cute. But I’ve got things to do.” Uttar interrupts, kicking back in his chair and puffing his cigar with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, reminding you that you are indeed having this quarrel with an audience. “So unless one of ya is gonna suck my cock, get off'a my fuckin' ship."

Noa doesn’t need to be told twice, or even very long to process the words - instead jumping at the offer to no longer be present. He storms out of the cabin, leaving you to hastily pull your raincoat back on and chase after him.

“Noa, wait-” You try to call after him to get him to slow his pace so you can speak, but he’s already out of earshot.

By time you get yourself together and get outside, you hear a tellingly large splash down below. You get back to the gig as fast as you can without risking your boots slipping on the wet surface of the deck, and get yourself into it. Luckily, it’s still floating, and you don’t need to spend any time bailing it out.

“Noa! Noa-” You shout at the water’s surface fruitlessly, knowing your voice won’t carry far underwater or through this wall of rain- let alone both. “Will you just give me a chance to explain?”

“Explain what?” Noa snaps in rage after his head crests the water near the side of the dinghy, water flinging off of his braids in a fine spray as he whips around to face you. "Was this the plan the whole time? You just wanted to buy me too?"

“I wasn’t buying you! I wouldn’t want that-”

“Oh yeah? Because that’s sure what it looked like!” Noa grips the side of the boat as he shouts, slightly rocking it to one side, his dark blue fin spines flaring straight out in anger. “I should’ve known when that sleazy bastard was cozying up on your ship that you were just as bad!”

Admittedly, that stings quite a bit.

“I’m not- you know that’s not true. I wanted to help you!”

“What do you not get?! I don’t want to owe you like that!”

“But you don’t owe me anything!”

“You say that now! But there’s always the expectation attached! It always comes back up! You think I want to try to go on with that always hanging over… whatever this is?! It will absolutely ruin it-”

“Noa, It was your gold!”

“...What?”

“It was your gold. You paid for it.”

“You’re lying- That doesn’t make any sense!”

“I’ve always hated taking gold from you for your room, ever since we became friendly. And especially when we got involved.” You struggle to explain, your voice starting to grow hoarse from straining to be audible over the heavy rain. “I meant it when I said it was on the house. But you were so stubborn about paying anyway…”

It’s a strange sight to see. Noa is dumbstruck, completely silent and nearly motionless in the water, despite the fact you know his tail must still be working to keep him afloat under the surface. Rivers of rainwater run down the slopes of his face and body, which he seems to be completely unaffected by, aside from the hazy nictitating membrane that slides horizontally across his eyes every now and then.

“...I had already set it aside. I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I have a big enough margin even without that room, and the ship didn’t need any pressing maintenance. I thought I’d just end up giving it back to you sooner or later anyway…” You continue, slightly unnerved by the sudden silence and the intense, unrelenting stare. “Then when I found out how badly you actually needed it- it seemed like the best use for it there could be.” 

The longer you try to explain yourself, the more you begin to doubt your decision - but when you think about what the alternative would’ve been, you just can’t bring yourself to regret it. Even if Noa never forgives you for your overstep, at least he’s free now.

“And you just… made all of these decisions on my behalf. Without even consulting me.” Noa cuts in, sounding more distraught than angry at this point. That’s still some small progress, you think?

“Noa… We both know you would’ve refused to let me help." 

Another pause. In this case though, it’s because you know that he can’t argue with you on that point. He would’ve never accepted the gold. He’s just too proud; too convinced that he can handle anything by himself.

“Stupid.” He says bitterly, so quiet now that you can barely make it out over the noise. “I didn’t ask for this. So why?”

Honestly, you can’t really argue with him that you haven’t been stupid; at least not about the way you’ve done things, if not the reason behind it. Sitting here in this dinghy that’s threatening to sink with the cacophony of rain pelting down on your head is making you rethink every single decision you’ve made along the way.

You should’ve just said something earlier - been clearer, or more direct in getting your feelings across.

No time like the present to change that, you decide, Orcish cultural taboo be damned.

“I love you,” You pull the now slightly soggy roll of parchment out of your pocket and hold it out towards him. “And I want you to be able to choose me, if that’s what you want.”

That is how your beloved ferry ship, typically hauling around prim and well behaved tourists, has become overrun by grisled seaworthy men during this port of call.

A surprising number of the former crewmates you invited showed up - enough to have more than enough men for cards, with some rotating out and mingling. Most of them are men that you had formed significant bonds with during your time on the same vessel. …Then again, there is significant overlap between the ones that showed, and the ones that you have had no-string-attached trysts with while you were married and suppressing your true desires. 

It’s just good to have some of your old friends together in one place.

"Hah! Well well, I'll just be taking these spoils for meself now-" Uttar slides the pot full of loose notes and coins towards himself, to a chorus of displeased groans from the rest of the players at the table.

“That’s it, I’m washed!”

“C’mon now, that’s the third hand in a row! Ye must be cheatin’!”

“Aye, that’s what happens when you go on account, as it were.”  “Hornswagglers, the lot of ‘em.”

Many of your buddies from your time working on fishing boats are still in the trade, while some have pivoted to… less than legal marine careers. Easier on the back, they say.

You can't say you're that harsh of a judge when it comes to some of them turning to piracy. Not everyone had the opportunity to save up for their own ship to fix up the way that you did.

“Not my problem none of ye can muster a serviceable hand this evening.” He snorts, rising with his winnings in pouch, and for a second you worry he’s about to hock a loogie on your freshly cleaned boat deck. Thankfully he doesn’t, instead directing it over the gunwale.

“Hey, it could just be a string of lucky hands. No reason to jump to accusations.” You say, seeming to successfully deescalate the situation well enough.

“If yer not cheatin’, play another round then. Or are ye turnin’ tail now that the jig is up?”

"I know when to quit when I'm ahead," Uttar laughs, motioning to Rosing, who’s cracking her knuckles as she sits down at the table where one of your friends has abandoned his spot in the game. “That one knows what she’s doin’, unlike you lot. I need to wet me whistle and have a smoke, then I might give ye an encore.”

Another round passes, then another. Your guests come and go from around the table, filtering between the main deck and the galley.

Just as there's a lull between rounds being filled with jovial conversation, apparently an interesting sight captures your tablemates' collective attention. The source of the hubbub is easy to guess, so you're unsurprised when you turn to see Noa emerging from the main cabin entrance.

"Ohoho, and who's this Mr. Fancypants o'er yonder? I've never seen a fishy with quite so many stripes!"

"Reckon they must be lost. Far too pretty for this lot."

"He's a good friend." You say in a diplomatic tone, yet hopefully stern enough to tamper any potentially tasteless comments.

"You hear that, ye barnacles? The man said keep yer filthy peepers off!"

Noa must’ve come up through the hatch in his room (that you now keep reserved for him) and gotten changed first. Probably for the best to not be completely bare, considering the present company, even if Merfolk tend to… He's wearing one of the pairs of slouchy pants Rosing was kind enough to tailor for him; his fully aquatic lifestyle hadn’t given him much need to own clothes before.

“Oh good, I didn't miss the entire thing.” Noa says, approaching the table and pulling up an empty chair.

“Nope. Would you like to play a round? There’s space.” You say, unable to keep the grin off your face just from laying eyes on him again.

There's a pleasant series of small clattering sounds from the shell beads on the ends of his braids hitting the top of the metal folding chair behind him as he takes a seat. He smells good, like he always does. And the early evening light makes his blue skin nearly shine, even if his markings are more subdued now than they are during Spawn.

“Hah. No. I know better by now than to play Rosing for real gold.” Noa smirks, which the kobold woman returns with her small, sharp teeth. “I’ll just watch.”

“Smart lad!” One of the orcs howls. “No use in wastin’ yer gold, not with these sharks in the water.”

"What's the occasion, anyway? I forgot to ask."

You open your mouth to respond, but are interrupted by a loud guffaw and an audible slap on the back from the man closest to your left. You almost forgot there were other people here…

"Why, this seadog finally dropped the ol' anchor!" You snort and shake your head in mild mortification as he emphatically goes on. "She's really off sleeping with the fishes now, bwahaha- No offense meant o'course laddy, nothing wrong with likin' the fishfolk."

"Congratulations." Noa nods in acknowledgement, a muted, bemused smile forming on his face. "How do you feel?"

"Free!" You laugh, probably a bit too loud from the slight buzz you’re cultivating. "Like a new man."

"That's great. I'm happy for you." Noa says, before you both get swept off into the greater flow of conversation at the table.

A few more rounds later, Rosing is separating everyone from their gold as expected. This development seems to be much better accepted than Uttar’s previous win streak, for whatever reason. 

The supply of beverages at the table has dwindled significantly. In fact, one single bottle of ale sits amongst the half melted ice.

"Who's gonna bite the bullet, laddies? Poor bastard that takes the last cold one makes the galley run."

Noa reaches out and grasps the neck of the bottle before anyone else can volunteer.

"I've got it- Since I'm not playing anyway." He says, picking up the cooler as he stands. "I'll be right back."

The table is nearly silent until Noa disappears past the galley door, at which point the table immediately breaks out in excited chatter.

"Nice boy, he is." One of your friends says in what is probably supposed to be a dry tone, but he's too amused to muster it. "Very niiiice."

"Oh no, please don’t-” You feebly chuckle, feeling the wave of playful torment rising up to crash down on you.

"And fit- Sink me-" Another chimes in, fanning himself. "I'd walk around shirtless too if I had that sort of build around me middle! If only we all could be so lucky!"

"I don't recall that keeping you from going shirtless any time before-"

“He got a brother?” A third laughs. “Or a father would do. Or we could share ‘im. No need to be stingy, aye?”

You suddenly get to your feet, feeling the heat creep up your neck and onto your cheekbones from the merciless banter.

“I need a little breather.” You laugh, the ribbing becoming slightly suffocating, even though you know from experience it's good natured teasing. Despite the embarrassment making you feel as if you could drop dead at any moment, there is a genuine smile on your face. “Go ahead and play a round without me.”

You head into your cabin’s head for a bathroom break. When you’ve finished washing your hands, you splash some water onto your face to help cool the embarrassment from your skin.

As you stand there, you can make out the muffled sounds of a conversation happening in the galley through the wall. Normal, as this part of the ship always carries sound due to the way the plumbing runs through it.

Ah. Maybe I should put some more insulation in next time I do some work…?

“Why are you even here? I wouldn't have come if I knew you were going to be here.”

You don’t want to eavesdrop, but as soon as you recognize that one of the voices is Noa’s, you’re straining to hear every last word.

“Ugh. I’m just trying to take this back out there. Just let me by!"

“Sorry. Ya want by, you’ll have to pay the toll.”

And the other voice - that’s Uttar. They know each other?

“What, you going to charge me gold?”

“Oh no- I was thinkin’ a different form of currency this time.”

Whatever this is, you shouldn't be hearing it. But your concern keeps you frozen in place, your palms still dripping above the sink.

“Let go of me.” Noa snaps, losing his cool in a way you've never heard him speak before. "I told you before- I’m not interested."

"Oh, yer gonna be interested, fish. Sooner or later.” Uttar laughs a grumble of a laugh. “Interest adds up fast… especially with a tab the size o’ yours. You’ll have to pay it off, some way."

Tab? Noa has a debt with him?

You know that sometimes pirates in the area also deal in loansharking, but you can't really imagine the Uttar you used to know being that ruthless.

But with this playing out (practically) in front of you, it’s hard to doubt. People do change…

Noa…

You dry off your hands quickly, a knot forming in your gut. You need to get back above board and make sure nothing worse happens. It’s bad enough that he’s being harassed at a party you’re hosting.

And, if you’re honest with yourself, there’s a small flicker of anger on his behalf.

When you emerge onto the deck and head for the galley, readying to throw them open and make a scene, when Noa exits through them before you can reach. To your relief, he makes a beeline straight to you as soon as he sees you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Oh. Do I not look okay?” Noa tosses his braids over his shoulder. He laughs a clearly fake laugh, and draws a clearly fake smile. 

He’s standing so close to you that in any other circumstance you would think he was crowding you.

“You look a touch pale, is all."

"Must be the ale," He brushes it off, already regaining his composure. "I don't drink that often."

That would be an easy enough to swallow lie, if you already picked up on the fact that Noa doesn’t drink. Even the ale from earlier he picked up stayed in the cooler when it returned to the table.

For the rest of the majority of the night, Noa sticks closer to you than normal. Not that you’re complaining, because it keeps you from worrying about his safety. He finally seems to be less on edge when Uttar departs, just after dark. When Uttar says goodbye to you, he acts completely normal, despite Noa being seated beside you. You wouldn’t be any the wiser that anything was amiss, if you hadn’t overheard their interaction earlier. You manage to thank him for coming and wish him well, despite it.

Evening proceeds into night. Eventually it’s become so late that all of your guests have either stumbled back into one of the empty rooms on the ship you allocated for that very reason, or dispersed into port to keep the night rolling. In the past you may have gone with them- it's your celebration, after all- but you don't want to put your liver through that much abuse. Your cushy ferry ship captain life has destroyed most of your tolerance from the old days by now, and you think you’ve had more than your fill by now.

You also find that where you really want to be is here, anyway; since the only one left now is Noa. You sit at the edge of the lower deck, with your legs hanging in the water.

You hoped he’d stay the night, and it seems he had similar intentions. At least, given the way that he’s currently attacking your mouth with such fervor, you assume he wants to stay the night.

This isn’t the first time Noa’s kissed you, but it might as well be, given how it makes the surface of your skin tingle. Every slight movement of his wet lips teasing yours sends you further towards a blissful precipice, and the warm feeling of his hand on the back of your head just another push towards your demise. It’s an exhilarating mix of thrill and fear. 

You know you shouldn’t be kissing if you want things to stay casual. You would assume he knows too, but he keeps seeking out your lips whenever he visits.

The thing is, you don’t want it to end.

You certainly don’t at this point, but Noa hasn’t given any indication that he’d like things to change. And because you are the penetrative partner, as an orc, it would be taboo for you to be the one to initiate a romantic relationship. You’re stuck.

You knew when you started this arrangement six months ago that it would lead to this. But you just couldn’t help yourself…

“I like having you so close.” You say faintly when Noa breaks for air, your lips still close enough to brush against his as you speak. You can’t ask him directly to date you, being an orc in your position, but hopefully he catches your drift. “It would be nice to see you more often.”

“Yeah.” He says in agreement, and pulls all the way back, leaning back with his weight on his palms behind him, looking up at the sky instead of at you. 

You’ve heard this ‘yeah’ before, many, many times; just not from him. You’ve spoken it more times than you could possibly count. It’s not an enthusiastic one, and more one of non-committal placation. Of knowing that what you’re agreeing with can’t really happen, and hoping that the topic just gets washed away with the conversation.

"Ah, sorry. Do… I have the wrong idea?"

"No, you don’t. I just- I couldn't. My job…" He sighs and rubs his neck, wincing. "There's a clause in my contract against dating. It complicates things."

"Quit, then. You’re already renting the room- You can stay here full time. We could see each other as much as we’d like. And there’s more than enough work, if you want a job. Rosing’d probably love the help.” You find yourself hazily and eagerly rambling your daydreams out loud. “Would that be so bad…?”

"You don't get it." Noa says, clearly trying to keep his tone even, but even the irritation that’s seeping into his words sound more like a cover for sadness than true ire. "I can't just quit."

Unfortunately, you do know why he can’t just quit. At the very least, you can hazard a guess. But you can’t tell him without revealing what you heard - even if you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it’s something you didn’t learn with permission. Noa is a secretive man, and you don’t think he’d take kindly to you having information he was keeping private.

“Why not…?” You quietly give him an out, if he wants to use it.

Noa just shakes his head, keeping whatever secrets close to his chest. Too stubborn to accept your help.

A cold silence sets in. You decide to break it early, before it becomes unbearable.

"...Yeah. So… I don't want you to feel pressured by the offer." Your lip quivers slightly around the edge of your tusks from the tension of your drawn smile. "Nothing has to change if you don't want it to, between us. We can talk about it-"

"I don’t want to talk about it. I need to think." Noa finally manages to say after a long, troubled pause. “I should go.”

"...Yeah. And… I should probably get some rest, huh?" You rub the back of your neck to ease the shame,  the last vestiges of tipsiness vanishing fast. “Sleep this booze off…”

Noa removes his pants and hoists his weight overboard, smoothly entering the water tail first with barely a splash into the night-darkened sea. And then he’s gone into the dark blue, without another word.

You’re left alone, the weight of the silence oppressive, now.

You want to fix this for him. Even if it’s something you can’t fix, you want to help him, somehow.

If Noa doesn’t want to tell you, perhaps you could find out for yourself…