ricochetlove | Open post

We have to be sneaky about it! I understand.

[It’s a little harder to find a good meeting place, because it has to be accessible by both land and sea— there are only so many places that meet that criteria and are also well hidden.]

There’s a cove about half a mile down the beach, if you head west. Do you know where that is?

[Sampo had thought it might be good to hide goods for some small time smuggling, but it might also work as a rendezvous for secretive mermen. It’s not very easy to get to by land— kind of the point, so that people don’t just stumble across your smuggling operation on accident— but Sampo could make it work. Especially for the sake of his fishy savior.]

I can find it. [There's a slightly stubborn jut to Gepard's jaw, a slight tension to him. If Sampo actually knew who he was as a person, and could see him better than the angle he got, he'd probably recognize it as challenge fucking accepted. As they didn't know each other all that well, and the angle sucks, who knows what he takes from that.

And then, with a slight hint of a challenge to his voice (who is he challenging? does it matter? it probably matters, but he wouldn't know) Gepard impulsively tosses up the 100% meaningless golden pendant he picked up, and tries to not think too hard about how it seems to shine as it arcs in the air, nor how he wanted to find something...nice. It would be something that his human would like, but he didn't really know his human besides the delirious things he rambled about on the beach, so he went for nice in general.]

Here. [Catch!] You seem to be doing well enough for yourself, but in case you wanted something to barter with... [What was the story attached to it? Oh, right, something like-] It's said that it was made by a witch who took to the sea, in memory of the sun she was leaving behind, but I don't know how true that story is.

[He's carrying the cactus like it's important, which, it is, ever so slightly leaning into Figaro's grasp without realizing he's doing so because he's a bit preoccupied. Furthermore, even if he's not...

Interested, like that, Figaro is (unfortunately) tall and warm and nice to lean against, and so Gepard does so like he's a preoccupied cat, staring at his cactus.]

What sort of name? [Would it end in an -o...]

But it's such a cute name!

[And he can't go around calling him Captain anymore, so what else is he supposed to call him? His name, all the time? Sure, he could do that sometimes, but it's so much easier to tease him when he has a cute nickname to call him by.]

[Sampo idles by the door as Gepard locks up for lunch. He can protest as much as he likes, but Sampo knows that he's won-- he's still going out with him.]

I'm a very good businessman, I'm sure I could manage a few old ladies. And who knows, maybe I could bring in a few more customers with my many charms!

Two cute pictures? It's my lucky day!

[How's he supposed to choose which one to use as Gepard's picture in his phone? The little Gepard da Vinci is adorable, a cute little caricature of Gepard himself, but the selfie is equally cute. He looks faintly sheepish in the picture, as though he isn't aware of the fact that he's handsome in any light.]

[Is he not aware of the fact that he's handsome? No, no, that would be ridiculous. Hot people know that they're hot.]

Don't worry about it! Go make that bread.

[He grunts as Sampo calls it a cute name, his keys jingling, locking the locks, weighing his options, and then Gepard looks at Sampo. Because who is he if not someone who'll call Sampo's fucking bluff when he's full of this much shit?]

If you're serious, I could always ask the owner to take you on part time. Once or twice a week, just you and me, Koski. [He probably couldn't manage more than that. The budget wouldn't cover it. But, maybe a few hours...

But that's only if Sampo is serious about it, but he's not.]

[Sampo's left on read for about a half hour, and during that time Gepard draws and sketches, and doodles, and draws a bunch of eyes not for any reason - it's to give his fingers something to do as he ignores the fact he sent Sampo a selfie, and then he very determinedly tries to ignore that. Trying really hard to ignore it!

...he ends up with a page full of eyes, which looks either unfortunately creepy or fortunately artistic depending on one's perspective.]

I think I'm in a rut.

[And sure, Sampo can see the page of eyes.]

Something that will make you want to take care of it, I guess!

[Suggestion time. What names would make Gepard roll his eyes the hardest? It’s like a game, and the prize is exasperation.]

Leo? Theo? Antonio? Maybe Romeo?

[More ooo’s. You can never escape the Ooo, not while Sampo is around.]

[Sampo puts a hand over his heart.]

Why, Gepard, if you wanted more of my company so badly, you just had to ask! You don't have to try to get me employed for it.

[Besides, Sampo works much better when he's self-employed. A real entrepreneur, he is.]

I'm sure I could carve out a little extra time for you, outside of our little lunch dates! What kind of pal would ol' Sampo be if I left you lonely?

[Just what you always wanted, Gepard-- more of Sampo Koski. And now that the door is all locked up, Sampo's going to be even more obnoxious and hook his arm through Gepard's, so they can stroll along together to the cafe. Very chummy, the two of them! Thick as thieves, as the saying goes.]

[He stiffens like his arm is caught in a bear trap, and he's torn between cutting it off or fighting whatever it was that had clamped onto it - Sampo. Breath held, Gepard closes his eyes for a moment, just one moment, a moment so brief that someone might think of it as him blinking. He exhales, shuddering, soft, quiet, so quiet that Sampo is the only one that can hear it.

Gepard doesn't look at him. He doesn't make a point of looking away from him, so much as he's trying to act normal and failing at it. They're two strangers, walking arm in arm towards the same destination.]

Sampo Koski, there's easier ways of getting a free lunch than to spend time with me. [That. Focus on that.] And I didn't say anything about dates.

[When Figaro says Leo, Gepard gives it consideration. He makes a thoughtful noise. He examines the cactus, asking himself if it looks like a Leo.

When Figaro says Theo, Gepard stiffens, because sometimes? Sometimes you come up with a good name, and it ends in an o, and that doesn't mean anything. Coincidences happen. Two names, though? Less coincidental. He tries to not react to Figaro, fails when he's bludgeoned by Antonio and Romeo, and he just stares for a moment. Just stares.]

I'm not naming a plant after you. [Bad enough he'll think of Figaro every single time he looks at the cactus.] I'm sure you've used all of those names some time or another.

[Sampo replies about ten minutes after Gepard sends his text— he does sometimes have to do work, even when he has pretty blonds texting him.]

that’s a lot of eyes

[If he didn’t know that Gepard’s an artist and thus would draw random body parts as part of the general practice of his craft, he might think that was pretty weird.]

Have you been doing the same kind of tattoos lately? Oh have you been getting a bunch of those cybersigilism tattoos??? It’s been blowing up on TikTok lately. Kids these days!

You say it like it would be a hardship! It would’ve been a fun way for you to get my suit off.

[But here they are, on Gepard’s special balcony. The heaters warm the air up enough that it’s fairly comfortable to stand outside, even without a coat. He was right about the view— it is excellent, looking down at the city with all the twinkling lights of this planet’s last bastion laid out before them in the snowy dark. They’re far enough from the party that no one could have reasonably spotted them, but some of the staff must have opened the windows of the ballroom to let cool air in, because the sound of the band playing a waltz is still distantly audible.]

[They’re still holding hands. Sampo turns and steps into Gepard’s personal space, puts a hand on his shoulder and moves seamlessly into a waltzing stance, taking the following position. Surely a man like Gepard would be more comfortable with the lead.]

Well, if you don’t want to do that, you could get a dance. [The band has started up a new song, something pretty that Sampo’s pretty sure he’s heard before.] Just until the song ends.

[Gepard sighs, soft but not so soft that Sampo can’t hear it. His face is still impassive, though, maintaining his composure even in the face of Sampo Koski. But he doesn’t pull his arm away, so Sampo’s going to count that as a win. Just a little win.]

[They walk, two men going in the same direction.]

Ah, is it a free lunch? How generous! I’ll graciously accept, of course.

[Thanks for offering to take the bill, Geppie, that’s very kind of you. Sampo certainly won’t object to it!]

I suppose you only agreed to one lunch date, but I don’t know if I could tell you all of my stories in just an hour or two! We might need to meet for another, so I can finish.

[Gepard tosses something into the air, and it sparkles briefly in the light as it arcs up towards Sampo; he isn't expecting to play catch with his mermaid acquaintance, so he fumbles the catch at the start. Juggles the thing briefly before catching it securely and taking a look at the little trinket that Gepard brought for him.]

[Gold, it feels like, judging from the weight of it in his palms. And an odd make, the designs on it don't look like anything that Sampo has ever traded before. He's been to a fair few places, so it says a lot if he can't recognize it. There's the whole glowing part, too, that's definitely unusual.]

Well! It definitely looks valuable!

[There is a certain temptation to sell it, of course, because gold always sells well and unusual gold can sell even better if he can find the right buyer, but... well, how can he really part with a gift from a merman? A glowing, golden pendant given to him by an actual merman? It's like something out of a fairy tale. It even has a fairy tale to go with it, about sea witches and such.]

I'll take good care of it. Ah, but I didn't bring a gift for you! If I'd known, I would've gotten something for you.

[And that gets Gepard to shoot at look at Sampo, straight at Sampo, not past him, not around him, not in the middle distance as Gepard forces himself past...something, right at Sampo. He tries to remind himself that Sampo Koski is a criminal. He's a conman, a thief. He's a smuggler, for good causes as well as bad, probably, and who knows what else he's done. That if Sampo had insisted on paying for lunch, there was a decent chance that it would be money stolen from his wallet, pickpocketed when he wasn't paying attention.

And, well, it's a pretty good reminder. He intends on saying one thing, but out slips,]

I missed you.

[It's less sentimental and more of an accusation. That's fine.]

You're the only person ridiculous enough in all of Belobog to want to trade stories for food.

[What the shit, Sampo wasn't supposed to want to keep it, and Gepard ducks his head underwater for a moment. Just a brief moment. If asked, he's prepared to lie and say that it's to keep himself hydrated. Proper hydration is important. Dry gills tend to get sensitive. He can survive out of water far longer than a human might expect, at the cost of really sensitive gills. Could be worse.

And it's technically true, though the real reason is because he had to hide the moment in which he felt flustered (slightly widened eyes, a slight smile) when his human said he'd take good care of it, because that sounded like he wasn't going to trade it to the first person, which- well. Well.

Well well. Well well well well he should say something instead of basking in feeling pleased.]

You don't have to get me anything. [...] Besides, I'm a fish. [Basically.] I'd probably ruin anything you got me just because of what I am.

[Sampo turns and steps into his personal space. The music strikes up, and without thinking about it, like it's the most natural thing in the world, like he was born for it, Gepard starts dancing. Waltzing. Sweeping Sampo up into a dance- he's not that good at dancing, it feels like he's marching like he's a toy soldier instead of dancing, this doesn't feel like he's doing a good job of sweeping Sampo off of his feet, but it's nice. Quiet. It's nice not feeling like he has to perform for anyone.]

Thank you for indulging me.

[He says this very quietly, as if they're on the dance floor and have to worry about some other couple overhearing it, like it's a secret pressed between pages and hidden in a book, like it's a soap bubble that will pop the second it rises in the air. Like if he speaks it too loud, some servants will find them, he'll have to arrest Sampo - or Sampo will throw down some smoke bombs and vanish - and he'll have to trot back down and do his duty.

But it's a nice night. It feels soft. Quiet.]

[Gepard is, as expected, a very adequate dancer. A little stiff, maybe, but exactly on-beat and so predictable in his movements that he’s easy to follow. Sampo feels very confident about the safety of his toes, even if he wouldn’t be as confident in their likelihood of winning any dance competitions.]

[But that’s fine. It’s fine. Gepard’s face is quietly pleased as though this is the nicest thing that’s happened to him all week, and they’re waltzing to the distant sound of the band underneath the stars and fluctuating auroras. Those ladies down in the ballroom would have eaten their own expensive silk skirts to be in Sampo’s position right now, with Gepard’s hand in his, dancing under starlight.]

You are my favorite. And not half bad at a waltz.

[The music eventually fades, though, and the dance ends, as all good things must. But it does give Sampo an excellent opportunity to kiss Gepard, which he very much takes advantage of. If you’re presented with the opportunity to kiss your situationship on a romantic balcony in starlight, you’re a fool if you don’t take it.]

You're only half fish, I think.

[Don't ask him, he's not a fish scientist or anything. Are mermen considered one of the perks of being a marine biologist?]

Come on, it isn't like everything up here gets ruined the second you put it in water! There has to be something that you'd like.

[Something shiny? Something rare? A tasty morsel that he couldn't get underwater? Maybe that's a thought, Sampo could bring him pastries and cake, baked goods that he wouldn't be able to get in the ocean. You can't bake a croissant at the bottom of the sea! Gepard could try what Sampo brings when they meet up in the cove, and decide if he likes any of it or not.]

If you can't think of something, I'll figure it out! Don't worry, Sampo Koski is great at giving gifts!

Maybe, maybe not! No hints for our game, that would be cheating.

[He’s not going to tell you what aliases he’s used, Gepard, you have to figure that out yourself! Otherwise it ruins the game, and Sampo is invested in how well Gepard does. How smart of a boy is Belobog’s favorite Captain?]

I suppose you could name it something else, though. What kind of names does the Captain like? There must be something that you think is cute.

[Cute is what’s important. If the name is cute, than Gepard might be guilted into keeping it alive longer.]

Cosmo. [He says this with all the confidence of an edict from the Supreme Guardian, gazing at the stupid cactus like he's two seconds away from ordering it to not die.]

It's a good name and you've likely used it as an alias at some point. [He also says this with all the confidence of a Supreme Guardian ordering her men into battle.] And thanks to you, I'm having problems thinking of something that doesn't end in an o.

[Meanwhile, he's debating the merits of ducking his head underwater and vanishing, but- ah, he promised he'd meet his human at his cove, and he...actually wants to meet his human at his cove (he's been a good soldier, he deserves this much) and that means he can't just escape this conversation. Even if he leaves now, the subject will probably come up again.]

I didn't save you because I expected a reward. [Which brings up the question of why he brought a gift-] And I stayed with you because when you save a life, you're responsible for seeing things through. [Or...something, very duty minded, very practical. Which brings up a question. Can a fish blush? If he can, he is, if not, there's still a certain fluttering of gills. Because this is very nice. He rescued a human and he turned out to be handsome and nice and wants to bring him things, and Gepard is going to be very disappointed once he learns what Sampo is really like, probably. And by then it'll be too late, probably.]

But if you insist, I'll be happy with whatever you bring.

[Sampo calls him his favorite, and it sends a little thrill down Gepard's spine. It shouldn't. But it does. Because Sampo could've had the entire universe, but he picked Belobog? He picked him? It's probably a line. It's probably a lie. But he believes in it- which is terrible, but they're waltzing under the starlight and everything feels perfect.

The music fades. And it's tempting to pave the path back to something resembling normalcy - a comment about the game, about how they might as well get on with it, a comment about Sampo's criminal ways - but he's kissed and Gepard promptly melts in Sampo's arms. He leans into the kiss, a little desperately (with a whimper, muffled), hands twisting in the fabric of Sampo's jacket before one hand sides into Sampo's hair. It feels like a dream. He danced under the starlight with a man who makes him feel special, everything's absurdly romantic, if he woke up in the snow Gepard wouldn't be entirely surprised. Upset, but not surprised.

But he breaks the kiss for air. The moment holds. He's a little bit surprised and hopes Sampo can't tell.]

How do you want to... [Um.] ...conclude our wager?

Reading that makes me feel so old.

[And he can take that as he will.]

I thought I'd add to my flash sheets, but, as it turns out, I don't have any ideas of what to draw.

I know the tattoos you're talking about and I thought I'd start there, but as you can see I didn't really go anywhere with this.

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