#man it's been a while since i've felt the fuel for a pure crack ficlet

[shmisolo]

tfw suddenly inspiration

he's bigger, stronger; his lips are thicker than hers, his tongue fiercer; but rey has waited all her life for nothing, this impetuous huge fish knows nothing of patience.

you think you can beat me? he had bubbled at her through the water, his dark scales glinting red in the light of the crystals that surrounded them. she hadn't given him time to respond: she'd gone in, locking her lips to his.

a kiss of death, the seasongs called it. there were stories of fish who died, lips locked, determined not to be defeated. rey had only had to try it twice in her life, and both times, the other fish had faltered long before she'd been tempted to. their weakness had gotten the better of them. rey refuses to be the weaker fish now. that's why she had kissed him.

she is never the weaker fish. she can be patient; she can die before she'd break the kiss. especially when it had the unexpected benefit of making him shut up.

his tongue, like hers, is sharp. he's good with it too; it dances around hers, darting and pressing, trying to shove her own back towards her throat, to distract her into breaking the kiss. he continues their little duel in her mouth and she lets him. he will tire himself out soon with all that movement. rey can wait.

his eyes bulge, big and black in his eyes. there's a gleam of red to them too, but also, when she deflects his latest tongue foray almost lazily, a moment of shock, a moment of fear.

he doesn't know what he's up against.

he thinks he can frighten her, but this is a battle of wills and it's not long before his tongue falters.

is your will giving out? she wonders at him.

it's as if he hears her, the way his tongue redoubles his efforts, and in his renewed foray...

heat. boiling, blasting heat like the water over the undersea volcanoes to the south, like the empty shallows to the west that stretch on for miles and miles, where her parents were supposed to come find her again but never did. this heat isn't outside her, though, it's within her.

his tail lashes back and forth, and hers matches it. her tongue catches his and presses it back into his mouth. this time, when his jeweled dark eyes flash, she wonders if he feels the heat too. she wonders if he is growing impatient, if he wants the kiss to end.

she's not sure she does. not just because she wants to beat him, but because she's not sure she wants the heat to end. she doesn't want to go back to the cold, dark, lonely ocean. not when she's found someone who flashes in the dark and who meets her kiss of death with passion and patience.

their tongues slow. the dance gets lazier, the kiss somehow deeper. she notices the taste of his soul. she wonders if she imagines the loneliness there, or if it is her own. in his eyes, she sees understanding begin to dawn. maybe even sympathy.

this time, when his tongue touches hers, it is gentle. the barbs on the edge of it don't hurt her. he is reaching for her and she—she's reaching for him too.

it's frightening, the idea that it won't be patience that shatters this battle for dominance. she wants to break away from him, to speak to him again, to see what that understanding in his eyes means, to hear him bubble at her that she's not alone.

she's not ready to face that, though. because what if it isn't real, what if she is still alone? what if all this is a tactic to unnerve her and overpower her. who needs to break her patience if he can break her resolve?

he won't break her resolve. if that understanding and gentleness means anything, he'll have to pull away first.

until then, he'll wait with her. he'll wait for her.