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“Don’t even think about it, fish breath. You’ll get my books wet.”
The mermaid - merman? - stops halfway through the motion and sinks back with a pout. His azure tail moves in the water behind him, and Scara’s eyes follow, despite himself. He might act unaffected, but some days he still thinks he’s dreaming - certainly nobody would believe him if he told them that he goes to the water after school to meet his mermaid friend.
“It’s not my fault you insist on bringing your books around here,” Childe says, still pouting.
Scara rolls his eyes and settles on the rock, setting his bag aside. “I expect you to be able to behave.”
That is the wrong thing to say. Childe grins, and then - pounces, using his muscled arms to climb out of the water with surprising speed. Scara opens his mouth to shout, but before the sound can leave his mouth, he has a very wet merman right in his lap, strong, sexy arms holding him like a vice. A gorgeous, heavy tail resting on his legs.
“You should know by now that I never behave,” Childe says, and it shouldn’t sound as seductive as it does. Scara tries to push him off, but PE was never his favorite class, and he has nothing on the muscles of a merman built for battle.
(And oh, Childe is built for battle. The scars all over both his human torso and his tail leave no doubt about that. Scara would never admit it, but he often imagines running his fingers across them.)
“I don’t think you want me to behave,” Childe continues, and then - kisses him. Scara makes a sound of protest, and yet he kisses back anyway. His books may be safe, but his clothes are soaking wet.
No, he doesn’t think his friends would believe him.