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“Hey Caspian,” Chip started, casually hopping down from the plank that connected their two ships until he was situated on the Crescent Moon. His boots thudded against the wooden floor and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, smiling at the Water Genasi as if he didn’t have a single care in the world, an odd sense of lightness lifting from his shoulders and giving him room to breathe.
Caspian turned from where he was working with the ropes of their sails, tugging in order to get them to loop correctly around the pins. His ear twitched and Chip saw the way that his thin, barbed tail swished back and forth behind his legs.
“Hello, Chip,” Caspian slid his tongue over his lips as he greeted the other man, giving the ropes another firm tug to test the security of the knot he had just tied. Chip’s eyes trailed over to the ropes for a second or two longer than deemed comfortable before he shook whatever thoughts he had been having out of his head.
Chip scrunched up his face a little bit when he smiled at Caspian, brown eyes almost seeming to shine amber in the sunlight. Caspian smiled in return and tried to ignore the way his heart seemed to pound in his chest at the expression on Chip’s face. The gentle pull of his lips to expose his crooked teeth, and the tilted way that he smiled at Caspian made his heart melt.
“Can I ask you a question?” Chip raised an eyebrow, his head tilting to the side as he approached Caspian, standing just a foot or two away from the other man. Way too close for normal comfort, but Caspian knew Chip just liked being close to people. He had a skewed definition of what personal space meant. It didn’t bother Caspian.
“I believe you just did,” Caspian leaned down a bit to be at eye level with Chip, a playful grin spreading across his face. The tip of his tongue poked out from between his lips and his ear twitched happily in Chip’s direction.
Chip groaned and reached up to drag his hand down his face, “You know what I mean, Cas.”
“I am just playing, you may ask me anything,” Caspian waved his hand dismissively and puffed out a small, breathy laugh. Chip’s cheeks darkened a little bit and he averted his gaze, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“I was thinking about this earlier,” Chip started, spreading his hands in front of himself before bringing them together to fidget with his fingers, “And I mean I look at Gillion all the time because he’s my crew, you know, and he’s got like very obvious gills on his neck... like they’re super big.”
Chip brought his hands up to his neck to mime where Gillion’s gills were, tracing his fingers in a line just about halfway up his neck, feeling as if he had gills himself. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and stared at Caspian expectantly as if he would know what Chip was getting at. And a part of Caspian did have a small prediction of where the rest of this conversation was going.
He raised one eyebrow at Chip and hummed in confirmation to urge Chip to go on. “Gillion is a Triton, they have noticeably more aquatic features than I do. Us Water Genasi are more… water-like, I suppose, for a lack of better description. No need for fins or webbed hands or glow-in-the-dark scales.” His tail moved thoughtfully back and forth with his explanation, thin point at the end flicking in each direction.
“Yeah, I suppose that makes sense,” Chip nodded thoughtfully and reached up to rub his chin, furrowing his eyebrows deep in thought. “But how do you breathe underwater? Do you have gills too?”
He leaned closer to Caspian, eyes tracing up and down Caspian’s neck, looking for some hint of noticeable gills. Caspian resisted the urge to step away, his heart practically leaping to his throat at the way Chip examined him. His gaze was focused, eyes slightly squinted and eyebrows furrowed.
Caspian knew what he was looking for, and even though he knew Chip was looking in the wrong spot, he still felt his heart pounding at how exposed he suddenly felt. As if he were a child trying to hide something from his parents and just about to get caught. If he offered no guidance, Chip wouldn’t discover his gills on his own, especially since Chip was respectable enough to keep his hands away from Caspian when he knew that it would be inappropriate.
But still, Caspian clammed up a little bit. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, ears pulling back towards his skull to regain some of his composure. Chip was still staring at him expectantly, not really focusing on Caspian’s face (thankfully) but instead trying to inspect his neck and throat. Caspian swallowed thickly and he was hyper-aware of the fact that Chip could probably see that movement.
“Well…” Caspian started slowly, brain working a million miles a minute as he tried to figure out how to respond to Chip’s question, “Like Gillion, I also have gills in order to breathe water…” He slid his tongue over his lips and sucked in a deep breath. His tail flicked back and forth and Caspian could feel the thin limb hitting against the back of his legs as he did his best to pull it close to his body so he didn't hit anyone.
Chip looked up to meet Caspian’s eyes and Caspian faltered. His deep brown eyes were so full of curiosity and wonder, and with every question, Caspian knew he just wanted to learn as much about both him and Gillion as possible. He was naturally curious in the same way that Gillion was curious about oversea customs. Chip wanted to know about the undersea.
It was cute. Really, it was. And Caspian was trying not to get too flustered by that thought. He had to tell himself that Chip probably didn’t know about the weight that his questions had or the effect they had on Caspian. He was a human, so of course he wouldn’t know the implications.
“Really?” Chip’s eyes widened and now he seemed even more insistent on noticing Caspian’s gills, “Where? I don’t see them.”
Another tentative swallow past the growing lump in Caspian’s throat. He fought an internal battle between letting the conversation die or telling Chip where his gills were. It was a rough battle. One that in order for Caspian to reach a conclusion, he would have to weigh how much he really trusted Chip. How fond of Chip was he? How much trust did he feel that he could put in Chip’s hand? How far did this small moment of unintentional intimacy go?
“Well…” Caspian reached up and coughed into his fist, slowly flaring his ears out around his head to hide his embarrassment. Chip’s eyes were caught by that subtle movement and he felt even more exposed. “I don’t have them in the same place that Gillion does. Our anatomy and physiology are different. Gillion would rely almost solely on his gills while in the water, whereas I need them much less so they are smaller and in a less obvious place.”
That just seemed to make Chip more interested, he raised one eyebrow and widened his eyes. Caspian shivered underneath his gaze.
It would be easy to just let Chip know that this was a sensitive topic and that the things he was asking about were things only shared with people of the most intimate bonds. Caspian could just explain to him the nuances of undersea culture and the special meaning and intimacy that gills held. Chip would understand. He just didn’t know at the moment, and really, Caspian should be the one to tell him before he gets himself punched by someone who doesn’t understand Chip’s innocent curiosity.
And yet, there was something thrilling about this entire situation. Something almost dangerous with the way that Caspian’s heart would pound as he watched Chip look him up and down, searching for his weak point (although Chip obviously didn’t know that). He felt vulnerable, exposed, flayed, and pulled open by Chip’s innocently curious gaze.
Caspian felt that he was about to do something stupid.
“Here,” Caspian reached out slowly to take Chip’s hands, giving Chip the opportunity to pull away if he wanted (even though Caspian was the one currently shaking in his boots). Chip’s expression shifted and he almost looked confused for a second as he allowed Caspian to take his wrists.
Chip’s skin was warm, almost tantalizingly so. Like touching a gentle candle flame without all the pain that came with fire. Caspian had to resist the urge to pull himself closer, that was not the point of this interaction. But he was warm, comforting, and so oddly dry that it was always so weird for Caspian. He almost felt bad at the way Chip shivered at the contact, knowing his skin was unpleasant to the touch, but Chip didn’t pull away. He let Caspian do what he pleased, eyes watching each movement carefully.
Cautiously, Caspian brought one of Chip’s hands up to his torso, slipping both their hands underneath the hem of his shirt. Chip’s eyes widened at the contact, and Caspian felt his breath hitch, heart beginning to pound now with growing fear and anxiety.
He maneuvered a little bit so that he was holding the back of Chip’s hand, their fingers slightly intertwined together from behind. Caspian guided Chip’s palm to his waist where his small gills rested underneath his shirt, just on the sides of his torso. They were pressed flat to his skin, barely noticeable if someone was actually looking at them, one would just assume they were scars or skin markings.
But he guided Chip’s fingers to the lip of his gills, showing him exactly where they were and how they felt. Chip’s jaw dropped and his fingers twitched slightly over Caspian’s gills. Caspian tried not to flinch away, sucking in a deep breath and steeling himself so he didn’t react to the odd sensation. It always felt so weird having someone touch his gills, and he couldn’t help the rising anxiety from tying his tongue in knots and making it hard for him to explain anything when every thought seemed to leave his mind.
He only focused on the feeling of Chip’s hands, tension bubbling just underneath his skin as he felt like a spring compressed for too long and ready to snap.
Chip smoothed his fingers down his gills carefully, being conscious and incredibly, incredibly gentle with the way he followed how they folded. He didn’t poke or prod or pull, just idly felt the different texture of his gills or the edge of his skin where the little lip opened and closed when Caspian’s gills fluttered.
Caspian’s heart pounded so hard in his chest that he couldn’t help but feel lightheaded. His gills fluttered instinctively and Chip almost pulled back, but Caspian kept his hand there. He even went so far as to take Chip’s other hand and guide it to the same spot on the other side of Caspian’s side. He pressed Chip’s palms over his gills, holding his hands there as he covered the most sensitive spot on his body.
He pressed down on Chip’s hands, forcing him to hold his palms a bit tighter over his gills, covering them with enough pressure that Caspian couldn’t open them when they tried to flutter. It didn’t hurt, but it was uncomfortable, and even if Caspian was using his lungs to breathe, it suddenly felt like he was having more difficulty with the action than he should.
He held Chip’s hands there, playing with the feeling of suffocating beneath Chip’s palms, entrusting his very life to the other man. Trusting that Chip wouldn’t harm him.
Caspian couldn’t help but squirm at the sensation even though he had put himself in this situation. His stomach stuttered and each breath he sucked in felt like it pulled into his lungs with barely a wheeze. The heat of Chip’s hands was almost unbearable against his gills, uncomfortable, itchy, so sensitive that any touch made Caspian want to flinch away. But he didn’t.
When a few seconds passed and Caspian felt like he was starting to see black spots in his vision from the way he struggled to breathe, he lessened the pressure on the back of Chip’s hands, allowing him to pull away slightly. His gills fluttered against Chip’s palms now that they could open from the lack of squeezing.
Chip stared at their intertwined hands as if he could hardly believe the situation that he had gotten himself into. Caspian avoided looking at Chip, face darkening into a deep, deep shade of purple. His tail whipped back and forth at a faster rhythm than before, anxiety thrumming deep in his chest and making it hard for him to control the rest of his body. All his previous composure seemed to crumble instantly, leaving him a shaking mess beneath Chip’s palms.
“They’re small,” Chip muttered breathlessly, tilting his head to the side curiously, flinching back a little bit every time the skin of Caspian’s gills fluttered against his palms. As if the sensation was so odd that Chip couldn’t help but twitch at it, but at the same time he didn’t pull away, curious enough to continue to trace the edges of his gills.
Caspian felt that if he tried to say anything, it would just come out in a startled squeak. So he held his jaw shut and remained silent, basking in Chip’s presence and hyper-aware of his hands on top of his gills. His stomach trembled with each shaky breath that Caspian pulled into his lungs (conscious of the fact that he might accidentally breathe through his gills with the way that Chip kept him aware of them).
He thought about how easily Chip could hurt him. How easy it would be for Chip to hook his fingers underneath the lip of his gills and dig his hand so deep that Caspian would be unable to breathe. He could dig deep enough, cause him to bleed and infect his sensitive gills. He could worm something deep inside him and make it hard for him to function.
He could even just scrape his nail along the edge of his gill and cause Caspian enough pain to certainly double him over for a little bit. It would be easy. And if it were anyone else, Caspian would never allow them to get this close. Gillion was the only other exception.
When it felt like he was going to pass out from both the anxiety and the feeling of Chip’s hands covering his gills (suffocating. It felt suffocating), Caspian let his hands drop from around Chip’s wrists. Chip blinked and he pulled his hands off of Caspian, a few inches of space remaining between his skin and Chip’s palms.
Caspian let out a long sigh of relief, slumping his shoulders and blinking up toward the sky. He couldn’t help but deflate all the tension from his limbs at the sudden lack of contact, he felt like he had just run a race through a trapped track, adrenaline working fast through his body and making him exhausted now that it was beginning to drain.
Delicately, Chip hooked his fingers around the hem of Caspian’s shirt, pulling the fabric up to expose Caspian’s stomach and waist. Caspian hovered his hands a few inches away from his body, dropping his chin to look back down at Chip, chest heaving.
He couldn’t stop the way that his gills continued to flutter, trying to settle back into their neutral closed position now that Caspian was above the water. His tail whipped back and forth and Caspian didn’t even try to keep it close to his body, risking whoever might come up behind him getting stung with the barb. He didn’t care at the moment.
Chip pulled his shirt up, leaning down so that he could examine Caspian’s gills, not just feel them. Caspian watched him with a flushed expression, shakily reaching out to put his hands on Chip’s shoulders to steady himself from the way he felt like he was going to faint. He was lightheaded, and he was sure that his gills were irritated from all the touching, they sure felt even more sensitive than normal. Even the way they fluttered seemed to itch.
“Wow,” Chip muttered, reaching out to touch his gills again, then he hesitated and pulled his hand away suddenly as if he had remembered something important. “Aren’t your gills super sensitive, though?”
Caspian’s eyes widened and he found himself unable to look Chip in the face. He felt his cheeks darken significantly and he almost pulled away a little bit. Chip jerked back and let Caspian’s shirt drop back over his torso.
“Yes…” Caspian muttered, voice sounding oddly high pitched and out of breath. He slid his tongue over his lips and clasped his hands behind his back to keep himself from fidgeting. “They are one of the most vulnerable parts of an undersea person.”
“Why did you let me touch them?” Chip furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at Caspian with worry, “What if I had accidentally hurt you.”
“Well… that’s the thing,” Caspian brought his hand to his face to cough into his fist, trying to hide his embarrassment as he peeked at Chip out of the corner of his eye. “I trusted that you would not hurt me. I trusted you with my most vulnerable place and you did not hurt me like I feared. And I do not think you would use this information to hurt me in the future.”
“Oh,” Chip pulled his shoulders back a little bit and he shut his mouth with an audible click, “I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“I trusted that you wouldn’t,” Caspian muttered, still trying to even out his voice as he tried to convey every nuance of this situation that Chip would understand. How could he possibly explain in human terms the sensitivity and vulnerability required for Caspian to do what he just did? How could he possibly explain to Chip how much that meant to him? How important that was to Caspian.
How could Caspian ever explain to a human the important intricacies of every undersea ritual? It was nearly impossible to do so because even with the best explanation in the world, Chip didn’t have gills of his own, so he would never be able to fully understand what it meant. He wouldn’t know what it felt like to have someone’s hands so close to the most sensitive spot on one’s body. How it felt to fully entrust his life into Chip’s palms, knowing that he would never intend him any harm.
Caspian didn’t think he would ever be able to give Chip a proper explanation of what that situation meant for him. He wouldn’t be able to convey the intimacies of being so close to someone and allowing them to feel his gills.
As uncomfortable as it was, Caspian felt that he would allow Chip this close any time the other man wished. It was a dangerous, tantalizing feeling, one that Caspian feared would be the death of him one of these times. But he couldn’t help but allow Chip (even Gillion), so close that they could feel his very life underneath their fingertips.
It was a sort of thrilling closeness that Caspian found himself longing for. He would let Chip as close as he liked, hold him, and soak up the warmth like a moth to a flame, knowing that one of these times he was sure to get burned. It was dangerous and Caspian knew that.
But he couldn’t help but disregard the danger for a closer embrace.