#sormikweek2018

There was a treacherous simplicity to the seal logs, Sorey imputing the data on file and adding it to their system. Between that, the soft sound of the music over the radio and of lunch cooking he had fallen into the rhythm. It looked like Mikleo had been lulled as well, the sun working on the seal until he was asleep.

Sorey smiled to himself, watching the seal for a moment before getting up to walk around the table. He had gone through a lot of the seal logs, more than enough to have earned a break. Besides, lunch would be ready in a bit and he would need to finish it off. He groaned as something in his back popped, Sorey stretching his arms above his head.

He lowered his arms, looking down at himself with a chuckle. He hadn’t changed out of his swim suit from Mikleo’s early morning swim. He had intended to, but then he’d come back with a text from Sergei and ceded the shower to Mikleo first. He remembered Mikleo saying something about giving his skin a scrub and hanging it to dry for a bit in the sun and seeing the skin turned fur side down on the coat rack and in the sunlight.

Sorey had had every intention of getting a shower himself, but Sergei had been talking about seal logs and how the Environmental Authority of Hyland had started demanding their data, which meant that they would have an inspection sometime this year. Sorey could only hope that it wasn’t during the tourist season, or else they would be run off of their feet.

He ran a hand down his face, looking around before shrugging. It was a nice enough day and lunch was close enough to being done that he wasn’t going to bother. Knowing Mikleo he was going to want to swim before dinner, so there was no point in changing, at least not yet.

Sorey walked to the oven to check on where the mantı were boiling away happily. According to the timer and what he could smell, they were nearly done. Sorey leaned in and took a deep breath, smiling to himself. 

They smelled almost like what his mother had made, but he had been playing around with ingredients. In Lohgrin it was far easier to get lamb meat than it was in Camlann. The thing in abundance was fish, especially with Mikleo and his in-laws. He had premade the mantı the night before when he was calling his mother, the two of them wanting to experiment with the family recipes. Mikleo had proven especially deft at folding them, although he tended to be overzealous with the filling. Sorey could see a few that had burst, but it was no matter, they would be preserved in the white sauce and eaten anyway.

He gave the mantı a gently stir before turning to get the bowls down. He ran his finger over the delicate paintwork, still in awe of it. 

They were locally produced and everywhere in Camlann. Myrna and her family had a little cottage industry going for them, churning out as many dishes as possible and the orders still came in. It was a point of pride for them, that their plates were so well known through Hyland and very possibly beyond. Part of the call the night before had been his mother fawning over the plates and dishes that he had sent her for her birthday. Mayvin had been equally amazed and offended, mostly that they were expected to eaten off of.

Sorey shook his head, tracing out the stylized seals with their noses pressed together. His set had come with his wedding, and was decorated accordingly, with all the right designs and auspicious signs for the start of a good marriage. There was a rather questionable mug that made Mikleo blush, but Sorey always laughed at it, because it was perfect.

He laid the plates out before going to the fridge to fish out the yoghurt. He frowned when he saw the contents of their fridge narrowed to a few tupperwares and a marinating fish. The latter was meant for dinner, and they might be able to add a few more tupperwares, but that would mean nothing for the next week, which meant shopping or fishing. Mikleo was always happy to do the latter, but Sorey couldn’t live on fish alone and Mikleo always got pouty if he couldn’t do his elaborate weekend desserts. They would have to start making a list soon.

Sorey placed the yoghurt on the counter, moving quickly to take the pot off of the heat and turn off the stove. He stirred the mantı one more time, giving them a serious look over before nodding. That was lunch done, and work completed, which wasn’t too bad for a Saturday. That still left them plenty of time, although for what Sorey didn’t know. They had a rare open weekend and he was determined to enjoy it.

He padded over to where Mikelo was still asleep in the sunbeam, smiling down at the seal. He crouched down next to Mikleo, reaching out to rest a hand on him.

Mikleo didn’t move, Sorey giving him a little shake as he spoke. “Mikleo, lunch is ready.”

He got a wide yawn in response, Sorey watching as Mikleo’s flippers came away from his sides and stretched out. Sorey claimed the nearest one, playing a little with the end of it while he waited for Mikleo to wake up.

Mikleo took a while, Sorey watching as the seal wiggled and grunted, finally waking up with a series of smacking noises. Sorey turned his attention to the flipper that he held, watching as Mikleo tapped his hand a few times before settling his flipper more firmly in Sorey’s hand.

Sorey stroked the soft, sun-warmed fur there. “Morning sleepyhead. Have a good nap?”

Mikleo bobbed his head and inched closer, playing his head in Sorey’s lap. Sorey reached out to scratch Mikleo’s back, listening to Mikleo sigh happily. “I’m going to take that as a yes. Well, since you’re up, you can get a blanket and set up things on the floor. I’ll get lunch, if you’re hungry that is?”

Mikleo perked up at that, the seal staring at him with dewy purple eyes. Then he propped himself up, Mikleo taking back his flipper from Sorey. He rolled partially to one side before slapping at his side with his fin.

Sorey laughed at the insistent sound, leaning down to press his nose against Mikleo’s. Mikleo rubbed their noses together with a happy sound, his flippers tapping against the floor.

Sorey stayed there for a moment before getting up and going back into the kitchen. Behind him, he could hear the sound of Mikleo moving from the hardwood to the carpet of the sitting room. There was a grunt, a thud and then a snort, Sorey looking back to see Mikleo glaring at the blanket draped over the back of the couch.

The seal tapped his tail against the floor before rocking back onto it, steadying himself against the sofa. Mikleo stretched himself out snapping at the end of the blanket before he managed to get it. Sorey pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, turning back to the mantı. He spooned yoghurt into the bowls before adding spoonfuls of mantı into each of them. He lingered long enough to grab a spoon for himself and a handful of napkins before he made his way over to where Mikleo was setting up their picnic area.

Mikleo was carefully unfolding the blanket, guiding each corner back before returning to get the next one. Sorey let him finish, knowing better than to try and help. It might take a little bit longer, but Mikleo saw nothing wrong with that. He was perfectly content to take the time as a seal. When he was done, Mikleo retreated to one end of the blanket, rocking to one side to slap at his stomach again.

Sorey shuffled forward, shaking his head when Mikleo increased the speed of his slapping. “Okay, okay, I hear you. You can’t be that excited.”

Mikleo fixed him with a look, but dropped back down as Sorey set the bowl in front of him. Mikleo stretched his head out over it, taking a deep breath before shivering. Sorey took that as approval.

He took his own spoonful, taking a bit of the mantı and letting it sit on his tongue. He made a face, testing out the flavor before shrugging and swallowing. “We might have to play a bit more with the sauce and maybe the spices. But I would give it a pass.”

Mikleo dipped his head, delicately taking a few bites. He tipped his head back, Sorey watching as Mikleo’s tongue darted out to lick at the sauce that stuck to his whiskers. Mikleo’s reply came as a long, pleased rumble, the seal dipping his head again.

Sorey bent to his own bowl, savoring the warm mantı and the sunlight that they were sitting in. In the distance, he could hear the ever present thunder of the surf and the seabirds. He was sure that most of the selkies on Elysia would be taking advantage of the day to sun and swim, which made it all the better.

He wants to drop the notes and textbook and run, but the notion doesn’t manifest into proper words before he’s instinctively, harshly throwing it away.

The notes are barely legible anyway.

There’s a certain degree of composure that’s expected of him.

He’d never get the mud stains out of his uniform.

The excuses compile without end, each as trivial as the last.

He tries to map a path to the edge of the street, where he knows he has a greater chance of finding shelter from the rain. Too much of the path is across open lawn, no matter what direction he takes, and the storm is only getting worse. Thunder rolls in off the slate of dark clouds in the distance. The wind catches him in a shiver bereft of cold. Maybe if he tries another exit--

“Mikleo, wait up!”

He closes his eyes in a soft sigh of laughter at the sound of footfalls racing toward him. He turns, the pull as natural and automatic as breathing, back to the hallway. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth just at the voice he’s known for years and years, at the same voice that haunts his thoughts and dreams, that fills his lungs with warm fireflies that flutter about both in wonder and in familiarity.

“Don’t run, Sorey! I’m still here,” he says with a shake of his head. The sardonic tone in his voice rings counter to his relief, but it’s the tone that he usually takes, that he prefers to hide behind.

Sorey’s a panting mess when he doubles over at Mikleo’s side, his hair a tousled mess adorned with  rainwater and sweat as it sways into his every breath. His cheeks are flushed in the stormy air, and Mikleo really shouldn’t find this angle, this lighting, this atmosphere, this moment, this boy, so breathtaking.

“Practice got cancelled?” Mikleo asks when Sorey regains his composure and stands properly. If his voice sounds a little too soft, he’s sure that Sorey doesn’t notice.

“Yeah!” Sorey smiles, “Can’t exactly run the trails in a thunderstorm. Coach said the creek might flood, so she let us off early.”

Sorey shifts his backpack and gym duffle around suddenly, smile still alight in his green eyes, “I’m glad I caught up to you before you left! You forgot your umbrella again, didn’t you?”

Mikleo’s shoulders fall in an exaggerated sigh as Sorey pulls an umbrella out, “Was I that obvious?”

Sorey’s gaze catches on Mikleo’s, and he hesitates in the motions of shaking the umbrella free. The second is still between them, nothing moving except the rain in their shared periphery. Mikleo watches Sorey’s chest rise and fall with a long breath, caught on the hook of… whatever it is, this electricity that’s pulling at them from their shared, unwavering attention.

The moment ends as suddenly as it started, and Mikleo doesn’t exactly know what to think of the pink in the tips of Sorey’s ears.

“You were rushing around this morning to get in early. An umbrella would have been easy to miss, as stressed out as you were,” he admits, suddenly sheepish.

Mikleo hums, relenting the point, but he feels the hints of his own blush forming across his pale skin nonetheless.

“So, um, do you wanna share?” Sorey continues, already holding the umbrella above them both.