This deep in South America, along the edge of the Amazon River, it never stopped raining. Elisa hid from the soupy heat for twelve straight hours, in a small wooden shack elevated just above water level, like a treehouse on stilts. By the time her mate came for her, the dial drawn in the dirt had receded with the waves of the river. One day the lush green would swallow her up, pulling flesh back through the earth until all that remained was bones.
But today was theirs alone. Her feet dangled from the edge of the makeshift porch, barely skimming the surface of the water when two sparkling eyes emerged. Transparent eyelids retracted as the creature drew closer, effortlessly gliding toward through the marsh. She slipped from her clothes and into the soft, sun-kissed current beside him.
The moment she touched him, he was glowing, cerulean backlit by the light of the moon. Seaweed twisted around her like silk. They kissed like they were half-asleep, half-dancing. He pulled Elisa close and she pressed back, tracing the scales on his shoulder blades with the pads of her fingers. The choir of buzzing insects stilled at the low rumble from his throat. A frog croaking in the distance was effectively silenced.
She slipped her leg between his and he opened up against her thigh, sex unsheathing to its full size. The two of them fit together, closer to a second skin than a glove. He followed the tremor in her rib cage with the tips of his claws before reaching down to bend her knees and prod her slit with the tip. Elisa nodded, rubbing her forehead against the leathery armour of his shoulder.
Hurry, she signed, squirming.
His pupils dilated after he processed the gesture, gripping her tightly from behind and impaling her on his cock. She reached below her belly to touch herself while he held her, slowly rocking into her flesh. He vocalized when he was close, fins spread out like a paper fan. Her fingers curled against the hard plate of his chest while her muscles spasmed, orgasm drawing her thighs to a close.
When she thought he was finished, she found that he was watching her, waiting for her to meet his gaze. Very carefully, he brought two of his fingers together on each hand, before knocking them against each other. Unprompted ASL was such a rare occurrence that for a moment, she didn't process it as language at all.
Egg, her Fish repeated eagerly. He closed his fingers and brought them from his chest, as if he were offering a precious gift. Give you egg.
First Elisa thought she knew what he meant, and then she was sure. The throbbing rod that emerged from between his legs performed more than one function. Her fingers searched for purchase and found nothing. He steadied her with an arm behind her back, guiding them through the water until they bumped up against a mossy boulder along the shore.
There were biological differences, and not all of them were as easy to appreciate as those first delicate moments in the bathtub together. Her face pinched as she struggled to accommodate the organ stretching her.It was hard to say where the similarities ended, and there was a part of her that was afraid to find out.
She hadn't kept a paper calendar, but she'd taken to drawing dashes on the back of a yellowed newspaper to mark the days she'd bled. The moon was waning, if that was anything to go by. When she finally tore her eyes from the sky, she found him staring.
Her throat closed up tight, thick with feeling, as the first egg was deposited inside her. It was smaller than she expected, smaller, perhaps, than a half dollar coin. There was no tapered end as far as she could tell. No, it was round as a marble, but bigger - gelatinous - entirely ensconced in a thick lubricant. Her calf spilled over the surface of the rock, smearing radioactive green across her skin.
Egg, she agreed, hands shaking uncontrollably.
He mirrored the gesture against her chest before wrapping his arms around her. His hips trembled and the second egg dropped, wet and smooth. It was bigger than the last one and less perfectly shaped. She wiggled and his cock shrank back before swelling. The second was quickly followed by a third, fourth, and fifth, glued to each other by a layer of jelly.
More? She wanted to keep them all. How many?
His organ twitched when he kissed her ear, bumping the batch of eggs clinging to the walls inside her. Each time she was surely stretched to full capacity, he squeezed another in beside the rest. Her lungs were overworked, she was so full she could hardly pass air through them. She looked down at the shape of her round, bloated belly, distorted through the rippling water.
Wait, she signed.
They parted like a ripped bandaid, losing the last of the eggs in the unforgiving Amazon river. Her fingers curled around his biceps as she watched, helpless, as the current carried them away. He dove beneath the water to cradle her stomach, mouthing at her navel and bringing his knuckles to the delicate folds of flesh. He covered her slick, twitching hole with the heel of his palm, where it struggled to close against his skin.
She wound her legs around his shoulders, effortlessly hooking her ankles together behind his head. His fins fluttered before he pulled her under, water wicking through the gills on her neck. He was glowing again, bioluminescent and beautiful. His soft, round eyes were glossy, but not with sadness.
He caught one of the floaters and they stared at it together, through the clear film at the tiny black dot in the center, unmoving. It was filial, this part of her that yearned to shield them from the world. Elisa pointed to it. She had taught him this sign a long time ago.
Alive?
They were surrounded by water, but her throat was dry. He shook his head and released the unfertilized egg, sliding lower to nuzzle her distended belly with his cheek. Just as the muscles were starting to cramp, something moved inside her. Elisa blinked, thumbs stuck out like hitchhiker as she pulled her curled fists toward her chin.
Alive, she signed, over and over, until the gesture had nearly lost all meaning.
Panic followed in the aftermath of the miracle, under the unpleasant realization that she could not protect them forever, or even for nine months. The danger of the surrounding environment was screaming at her, but cutting through the silence was a low trill, her mate calling. She floated toward the sound, guided by a low hum that reached the marrow in her bones.
For the first time, she realized how alone they were together. He threaded their fingers and pulled her into an alcove along the underside of the house, kissing the divot of her belly button. A feeling of safety engulfed her, knowledge that came from the part of her brain without language. The ring of muscles gave out and the eggs popped out one after the other, as if they were threaded on an invisible string.
The moment her knees buckled he released her hands and swam beneath her. A streak of blue light electrified the riverbed, blinding her. When she opened her eyes, the waves were alive, eggs strung through the water like aquamarine Christmas lights. He collected them before they could drift away, crowded around the base of his dorsal fin by a sticky gel. When they embraced she could feel them there, like jello that had been carefully eased from molds.
Me and you, he reminded her. Together.