Page 36 of The Merman’s Betrothal (Outcast Hearts #2)

R ory’s first day underwater with Fionn had passed in a dream-like blur.

During the brief moments when he caught his breath to think about it, he considered the whole thing to be a kind of out-of-body experience.

Rory felt he was more himself than he’d ever been before while simultaneously feeling like a stranger in his own body.

Here was the horizon he’d been longing for.

He was well over it—under it, even—learning about Bluefolk society at a break-neck pace.

Ullapool was far behind and he needn’t ever go back if he didn’t want to.

The whole ocean was his to explore. It was everything Rory had wanted and denied his entire life.

Yet somehow his dad and Ol’ Doaty still took up space in the back of his head.

Just when he was starting to relax, there they were sneering over his shoulder while he talked about running away with Fionn.

What did Rory hope to achieve, anyway? He was a useless piece of shite, wasn’t he?

Only good for catching lobsters and making cups of tea.

I don’t need to care what you think of me, Rory told his inner-Hamish. I’m not the real cause of your problems. And I’m not responsible for managing them, either.

The sneering voice retorted along a different track: as for the blue monster… since when did Rory submit to being thrown around by anyone bigger than him? Let alone swallowing cock like a fucking sissy-boy. Could Rory even call himself a man any more?

You wouldn’t dare argue that with Graham, Rory countered. Even the pricks who make cock-sucking jokes wouldn’t question his masculinity. They definitely wouldn’t dare take him in a fight.

Nor Fionn, Rory was sure. Anyone would have a damn hard time trying to suggest that Fionn represented anything other than a peak male specimen.

But maybe that was Rory’s inner bias talking. He certainly considered Fionn to be a peak male specimen, anyway.

Spending time with Neacel had provided a helpful comparison for Rory to reflect over.

For a while he’d wondered if all Minchmen were built exactly the same as Fionn.

His glimpses of other Bluefolk had indicated this not to be the case, though there were plenty who fit the same ‘tall and broad’ mould that Fionn had been cast from.

Neacel was the skinniest Minchman Rory had seen so far, and the only one with short-cropped hair. When he was floating next to Fionn the difference was almost laughable, and made the two seem an unlikely pair of friends.

But what Neacel lacked in brawn he made up for in a shrewd kind of savviness that complemented Fionn’s naivety. Rory had no doubt that Neacel knew exactly what he and Fionn had been up to since he left. When Neacel finally returned, Rory had a hard time looking him in the eye.

‘ You have gone quite red, ’ Fionn told Rory, full of concern and blissful obliviousness.

‘ I’m fine, ’ Rory croaked back, his vocal chords sore from the noises he’d been making for the past hour.

Neacel swam by and slipped a small plant-like ball into Rory’s palm. ‘ To ease your throat, ’ he said with a twinkle in his song.

The old Rory would have decked someone for inferring that he’d just enjoyed the pleasure of the guy next him. The new Rory gave an awkward shrug and muttered, ‘ Thanks. ’

Neacel seemed so genuinely happy for Fionn—and Rory, by extension—that they’d found one another.

He bustled around his home making things comfortable for them.

Nets were drawn across the cave to make a hammock large enough for two.

Neacel lined them with woven blankets that looked like seaweed, with their stray fronds waving in the water.

He laid out another platter of food for Fionn and Rory to feast on at their leisure.

And he otherwise kept himself unobtrusive, not challenging the way Rory’s curious gaze followed him around and instead offered only a friendly smile each time Rory felt he’d been caught gawking.

By the time it came for bed, Neacel’s hospitality had rubbed off on Rory to such an extent that he began to forget the bizarreness of the situation. Fionn and Neacel were so at home here, Rory felt that maybe he could be, too.

After Neacel waved them a cheerful goodnight and disappeared, Fionn opened his arms and nodded to the hammock. ‘ Come. I will show you how to sleep in one. ’

Rory swallowed. Fionn had quite recently been teasing and suckling on him like a greedy cock-whore, and yet the prospect of cuddling with him seemed rather more daunting.

‘ Could we do it without… without you holding onto me? ’ Rory asked.

Fionn’s expression drooped like that of a kicked puppy. A flash of rejection shot through the bond.

‘ I’ll still sleep next to you, ’ Rory said, uncomfortable that such small gestures could have such giant impact on the person he liked. Worried he might fuck it up. He wasn’t trying to hurt Fionn or push him away right now. He just needed some space.

Fionn lowered his arms and nodded slowly. ‘ It has been a long day for you. I am happy just to be by your side. ’

Relieved, Rory watched Fionn get into the hammock first and demonstrate how to twist himself up in it securely. Then he took Fionn’s hand and swam into the hammock, nestling back-to-back while Fionn performed the twist for both of them.

Being essentially trapped by the hammock was surprisingly comforting. After a day of drifting in the ocean, Rory found it nice to feel tethered to something for a change.

Still, despite his exhaustion he couldn’t sleep.

Rory stared into the dimly lit corners of the cave through the hammock weave. Fionn was a warm boulder at his back. Solid and comforting.

Strands of Fionn’s hair tickled Rory’s neck, lifted by the water. A similar tickle through the soul bond told him that Fionn was still awake as well. He was dwelling on Rory. On whether he’d done anything wrong.

Why did it twist up Rory’s gut to know how much Fionn cared for him? Fionn was so desperate not to let him down.

‘ I’d say you’re doing pretty well, ’ Rory mumbled into his seaweed blanket. ‘ I haven’t punched you again, so that’s a big win. ’

Fionn chuckled softly. ‘ Perhaps tomorrow we can spar and you may strike me all you like. If you can land a blow, that is. ’

‘ Doubt I’d stand a chance, ’ Rory answered, though the thought of a semi-serious wrestling match managed to stir some renewed interest from his extremely spent dick.

More time passed. Fionn’s emotions seemed to calm down, but Rory’s were still tumbling.

He was going through all the night-time encounters he could remember that had ended in his bed.

There were only a handful of times that anyone had ever stayed the whole night.

He remembered enjoying the novelty of soft skin: an arm draped lazily over his chest; a warm leg hooked over his thigh. Comfortable and companionable.

He’d always pushed them gently away in the morning. Created distance before either one of them could catch feelings. A future with a man like Rory wasn’t one worth having, after all. At least, that’s how he used to see it.

Rory desperately wanted to turn over and wrap his arms around Fionn.

Oh, and now there was a guilty flood of excitement coming through the bond.

Fionn huffed bubbles from his gills. ‘ Can you blame me? I am being very patient. ’

‘ It’s not fair, having you practically inside my head, ’ Rory replied without rancour.

He wondered how much easier it might have been to face his attraction to Fionn if they had figured out this soul bond communication thing earlier.

It was like they’d unlocked it by confronting each other, and now the current flowed both ways freely.

‘ I do not try to intrude. But you must feel it yourself, how the bond carries things between us? ’

‘ Hard to miss it. ’ Rory relaxed more deeply against Fionn’s back. He hadn’t realised how stiffly he’d been holding himself away. ‘ You want my permission or what? ’

‘ To do what? ’

‘ Cuddle me, for fuck’s sake. ’

Fionn spun so rapidly to embrace him that Rory had to choke down a laugh. Fionn’s arms closed around him in a gentle bear hug. His hips scooched forward to spoon against Rory’s backside, and Rory nestled into him instinctively.

Rory’s eyelids lowered. He was held. Secure. Safe. Loved.

It was wonderful.

He fell asleep to a whirl of answering emotions—protectiveness, joy, adoration—and Fionn’s smile against the top of his head.

* * *

The next morning, Rory was keen to learn even more about the Bluefolk kingdom under the Minch.

It was becoming real in his mind now, the possibility of a future in which he really stayed here with Fionn. Or left here with Fionn. Or at the very least helped Fionn get free of his arranged marriage. Helped Fionn be happy. Fionn, Fionn, Fionn.

Perhaps it was to escape this giddiness that Rory suggested Fionn take him north up the strait, away from the Shiant Isles. Fionn had hinted that Bluefolk hunters and fishermen lived out there, and Rory wondered how easy they’d be to run into.

‘ It is expansive, so it’s unlikely that we shall see anyone, ’ Fionn told him uncertainly. ‘ We are more likely to see a whale than a Minchman. ’

Rory’s eyes lit up. ‘ I would love to see a whale. ’

Christ, it was embarrassing how earnest his DeepSong sounded. Even Neacel glanced up at him with an amused smile.

Fionn, on the other hand, puffed out his chest and beamed with wholehearted enthusiasm. ‘ Then we shall find you a whale! ’

They set off after a breakfast of shrimp marinaded in a sweet sauce. Neacel stayed behind, promising to listen for news from the palace but also, Rory suspected, to allow them time to themselves.