The Fucky Mer AU ( Keith x Kolivan )

To the Victor Go the Spoils

Being a male seahorse is dangerous business. Besides the usual predators and humans he has to hide from, Keith's got a whole other problem to keep in mind. A certain problem that may or may not be very appealing to a certain octopi.

Chapter 1

He really shouldn’t be out like this, completely and totally exposed in open water. If he was smart he’d be hiding down in the kept or lurking near a system of caves only he knew. He knows it’s risky, knows what’s likely to happen if he’s caught, but he doesn’t give a fuck. It’s better off living his life than hiding the entire time.

Keith sways in the currents, a gentle glide, bobbing here and there to look at the wreckage littering the reef and tumbling onto the seafloor below. Light filters down from above, dancing across the planks of rotting wood and coral reclaiming it. Times like these are the best to be out, when the tides are light and other menfolk are out in the depths, hunting. Something catches his eye, something shiny, glinting, completely different from the other remains. It takes some acrobatics, his tail is nowhere near as agile as he wish it were, but he manages to get down to the sandbank just fine, and brushes away the last few grains obscuring it.

A coin, as silver as a tuna’s scales as twice as bright glitters up at him. He picks it up, admiring the weight the small object has, turning it over to make out the markings the ocean has slowly been chipping away at. If he squints he can swear he sees a face on it.

Now that he’s down below he can spot more twinkling specks around him, tantalizing little pearls just waiting to be uncovered. Within minutes he’s collected a good handful, some bronze, some more silver, even something different carved from mother of pearl. He’s almost satisfied, ready to return back home to his hideaway, when something else catches his eye.

It’s like a river of sunlight, pouring out from the crack in the wreck’s hull. Keith swims a little closer. They’re more coins, just like the ones in his hands, but these are gold. He eyes the pile in his fist, and then those scattered just outside the hull. What was the harm in taking one or two? Even if someone were to swim by he could just hide himself in the wreck until they passed, go completely unnoticed by predator or fellow prey alike. Quickly he places his pile in a neat pile nearby and begins to sort through the new treasures. Instantly he recognizes they’re in much better condition than the other coins. The designs are almost mint new, barely a scratch of wear on them. Some have intricate suns carves into them while others have moons and twinkling stars. Several even have plants he’s never seen before, fanned out in painstaking patterns.

He’s so engrossed in sorting through them he doesn’t notice the shadow until it’s nearly on top of him.

“Now, what do we have here?”

Keith lets out a shriek of bubbles and darts into the wreck. Whatever it is follows him in, silent in it’s pursuit. He needs to hide, and needs to do it fast. Keith darts through a hole in the floor, around broken rafters and barrels when suddenly he spies it. A porthole, smashed and open, ready for his escape. It’ll be narrow, he’ll have to watch his shoulders, but there’s no doubt that whatever is following him won’t be able to make it through there. He can hear his pursuer now, moving beams out of his path as he makes his way towards Keith. He makes his choice, and dives.

His shoulders clear by a narrow margin and Keith lets out a sigh of relief, only to be jerked to a standstill, half in and half out of the porthole. He tries to wriggle forward. No luck. He tries backwards, same thing. Keith curses his hips. He’s always been generously gifted there, a hefty layer of muscle and fat padding him out, but he’d never thought they were quite this wide. He was stuck thanks to his own biology.