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broadwayboy223

you gotta pay the troll toll
The sand was warm against his cold feet. Each grain and bead curled against his toes, it was going to be a pain and the ass to get them clean, but this was worth it. From here, Damien could see the ocean clearly, the rises and falls, the tide coming in. "Damn it," He mumbled, fists clenched. To be so close to the thing he loved most and yet so far was killing him. Damien didn't dare move a step closer. He knew all too well what would happen if he allowed the water to touch his skin. It was like something was gnawing inside of him, an ache that wouldn't stop until he let the cold, unforgiving ocean wash over him. And the only thing he could do was watch.

Damien closed his eyes and allowed the chilly wind to pass through him. Every nerve in his body could still recall the feeling of giving in to his true nature. When he was in the water, nothing else mattered, not his worries, his secrets, the humans. Damien could be truly free- well, maybe before he knew the truth. He gasped for air as he came out of a cold, wet memory, opening his eyes sharply. Being a merman on land fucking sucked. Raking a hand through his thick black hair, Damien attempted to return it to a place of normalcy before heading back inside. The wind always messed it up; of course, it kind of seemed messy all the time. It was thick and wavy. Never looked terrible, though! Guess that's something his mermaid genes guaranteed.

He sighed, breathing in one last taste of the salty wet ocean air and headed back towards the hotel. How long had it been now? Three years? It was hard to believe that Damien Silver came to this seaside hotel three years ago. He'd only been sixteen at the time, and good god was he a wreck. After taking human form, Damien had found this quaint little hotel and had been living here ever since. It wasn't easy, though. The merman had no money, no identification, no nothing. He wasn't even supposed to exist, at least if you believed most humans. Damien smiled sadly as he stepped up off of the sand and onto the plank that leads to the hotel. Lucky didn't begin to cover it. The day he wandered here from the ocean, naked, wet, alone, the owner had taken pity and let him have a room. Naturally, Damien promised to repay the kindness and start paying his way once he got a job.

And he did. It took a few weeks, but Damien found work at the local antique book store. Sometimes if he let himself think about it, he'd laugh. Objectively, it was way too funny that a merman was occupying his time in a dry, dusty book store. After three years of working there, he had become the manager. The high school and college-age kids that came through seemed to stare. They probably wondered why he wasn't in school. Well, spoiler alert, he wasn't a registered human being. There was no way to prove his existence to get into a school.

Oh well. Human school seemed weird anyways. They had these so-called "sports teams," and from what Damien gathered boys and sometimes girls would dress up in gear and hurt each other. The practice seemed beyond strange to the merman. But hey, who was he to judge? He was a frickin mythical sea creature. He chuckled at the thought as he stepped through the lobby door. "Hey Sasha, could I get some towels, please?" Damien asked as he stepped up to the concierge desk. "Of course, Damien! Just give me a few seconds" Sasha was one of the kinder humans Damien had met, with dazzling wide smile and stylish blonde hair she'd known him since he'd come to the hotel. Flashing a smile back, he nodded and watched her disappear into another room. Hearing a shuffling noise behind him, he turned and saw a strange young guy. It was weird because Damien had never seen him before. Huh, how odd. Must be a new guest? He gave the stranger a sympathetic smile and turned his head back to face the counter.
 
Nico was not excited to be there, not really. His father was a good enough man, he knew. Immature and easily irritating, yes, but good enough so that he didn't have a criminal record. Nico couldn't say the same for most of his coworkers back home.

Home. Where was home? Songs said it was where the heart was. He didn't like songs much, most were too loud and filled with optimistic lies. Films said it was wherever your significant other was. Nico scoffed at that, he'd never been kissed by anybody but his grandma, despite most boys his age having gone through at least one make-out session with somebody they'd probably broken up with already. Books said it was a variety of things: soul, mind, a certain magical school based in Scotland.

That reminded him: books. He said he went out to buy some, and though he’d expected the man who was known in their household for being deceitful (along with some other much more derogatory terms) to call his bluff immediately, turns out his blind trust overshadowed the reason for a divorce. A slight problem: his father only pointed him in this general direction. He could spend hours just trying to find a copy of something he’d never end up reading.

Nico tore his eyes away from the sea, the waves that overlapped and created a sort of white noise unlike any other. Another boy had been there, he was fairly sure. One with raven hair who seemed to find the ocean as pleasant as he did. Then he headed to a hotel, from what Nico could see, and he felt an urge to follow the other boy. Maybe he would find books wherever he was heading. Either that or somewhere away from his old man, and whichever way was a win.

The dark-haired lad was there, smiling in an odd way. With sincerity? Nico hadn’t known that until after he graduated from high school, and that was just because they were rid of him.

“Um, hello?” He said, trying to make it loud enough to be heard. Nico wasn’t good at initiating conversation, especially with guys who looked like they belonged in one of those supposedly romantic movies. “Do you have any idea of where I could find a bookshop. I-I’m new around here, and I don’t really know where anything is.” And now he smiled, most likely much more awkward than anything else.
 
Damien turned back towards the boy at the sound of his voice, the question all but confirming the guess. "There's a bookshop in the town," He paused. Looking around for a paper and pen, his hands were scanning up and down the front desk until he spotted some by Sasha's computer. Damien felt terrible for the guy; he knew what it was like to be a stranger in a strange place. Well, maybe they weren't that alike. This human had no idea what it was like to pretend to be something your not. Swooping up a sticky note, Damien began to write the address, "It's not very far. The store is in the town square." No rushing was allowed as he wrote the address. Merpeople had their way of writing. If you could call it that the practice involved several old runes and intricate symbols.

Damien had to practice every day to make his writing legible. "Here you go," He handed the note to the boy, smiling once more. Being kind and helping others was the least that he could do. Pay it forward, you know? Damien watched as the boy looked down at the note, something undiscernible filtering across his face. "I work there, by the way."

"I got your towels, Damien!" Sasha bellowed out in a singsong voice, her musical soprano ringing like a bell. She only stopped her signature dance when she saw the boy, who Damien still didn't know behind him.

Damien shrugged awkwardly, Sasha's eyes all about saying Who is he?!?. "Well, thank you, Sasha! I must get changed before I head to the store. See ya!" See ya? Jesus Christ. Damien was still working out the kinks of human verbal communication; all sea creatures communicated telepathically in the ocean. Feeling more awkward than ever, he quickly grabbed the towels and headed for the stairs that lead to his room, the need to be alone growing every moment.

Damien didn't realize until he got to his suite that he kind of left the new guy by himself, hopefully, he'd get checked in or better help from Sasha. As much as he wanted to help others, the merman was still a bit useless. And besides that, he needed to keep a low profile. The secret that he harbored was too precious and too shocking for anyone to know.

Quickly, he threw a dark blue sweater over his shirt and discarded his shorts for black sweat pants. Best to keep moving, don't let dark thoughts get you down. It was easier said than done, what would happen if the government or a scientist found out that mermaids existed? Damien swallowed as he looked at himself in the mirror, biting his lip as he tried to slow his mind. A merman like him would be experimented on, or worse...
 
"Cool, cool," he muttered as Damien, he now knew, wrote down the address. At least he knew where town square was. The other boy seemed to take his time while writing. Was he dyslexic?

He gave the paper to Nico wearing the same weirdly genuine smile. Friendly people were few and extremely far between back in Nico's town, so it was a relief that at least one person here was approachable. He looked at the note, reading the address. Damien's handwriting was quite interesting, with straight lines and almost perfect circles. Maybe he wasn't dyslexic, just really cared about how he wrote. He felt a bit more optimistic now, more when Damien said he worked there. He could actually make a connection here.

A girl, Sasha apparently, came out from behind the counter. She probably worked here. Or perhaps she was Damien's sibling, though they didn't look much alike. Or, if Nico's luck had been brought all the way with him, his girlfriend.

"Thanks!" He said as Damien took the towel and went up the staircase. He waved, a bit stilted and quite a bit too late at Sasha.

As he exited the hotel and headed for the antique bookshop, if the name was any indicator, he mentally groaned. He didn't even say his name. His aunt, he remembered, had kept on droning on and on at family gatherings, if you could even call them that (half of the family in question never even attended), about the rules of etiquette. Nico now regretted not paying more attention. If anybody needed to be more approachable, it was him. Though it would probably be a long, long road. His elementary guidance counselor described his smile as forced, and his elementary classmates described him as vampire. Fair enough, really, he hated sunlight. But who said he couldn't be a courteous bloodsucking paranormal creature?

He also thought a bit more about Damien. There was something about him, and it wasn't the grin. Nico just couldn't place what it was.
 
Damian gently handed Ernie, the cab driver, a few dollars, and some extra, shaking his wrinkled hand as he stepped out of the parked car. "Thanks, Ernie!" He watched and waved as the yellow vehicle slowly backed up and left the bookstore. Ernie had been kind of enough to offer his services whenever Damien needed them, and for that, he was grateful. Could you imagine? Damien shook his head, chuckling under his breath as he searched his pockets for the key to unlock the store. Driving a car himself was utterly out of the question. From what the merman gathered, most human's learned how to drive in their teenage years.

With Damien still tripping over his human legs after three years, there was no way in hell he could handle a mechanical transport thingamabob. The key was disappearing on him today. It figured, especially since underwater most mermaids had few possessions. "Where is it?" Damien asked the open air, quickly changing pockets and rolling his eyes annoyedly. Relief washed over him as he felt up his butt pockets, the dang little gold key was back there the entire time. He sighed as he put it in the lock and began to turn, opening the glass store slowly before stepping inside.

There wasn't much to do in terms of his job. Check on the books, dust, greet the occasional customer. People coming into the store were pretty rare, and it was a comfort to Damien. Keeping a low profile, not getting too attached to anyone, was imperative to his existence. And it didn't hurt that he discovered that he loved reading. Most of his time at the store was spent reading a good book in private. On occasion, he'd get a few high schoolers looking for used copies of To Kill A Mockingbird or Hamlet, but even then, that didn't happen much. No, he could be alone here. Just read his day away and try to forget about the ocean.

Walking over to his counter, he turned on the cash register and returned some stray books to the shelves; the store was open. Damien hummed as he looked for a book to read this day, what was he in the mood for? Hazel eyes scanned and searched until he found a title that intrigued him, finally settling on Jane Eyre. Wandering back to his desk, the merman couldn't help but smile down at the worn hardcover book; it's little crinkles and edges stuck out like a sore thumb, just like him. Or maybe it was better to say that both the book and him were good at hiding in plain sight. Contentedly ready to read a new good novel, Damien sat down on his chair and opened the book, giving the door just a glance before diving into his latest escape.
 
It took quite a while for Nico to actually reach the shop. He’d was a master of the true art of procrastination, as any of the unfortunate few who’d been assigned to work with him on literally anything. School projects on the eruptions of volcanoes, stacking up toothpaste in a freezing grocery store, waking up, the list was longer than an alcoholic’s tab.

There wasn’t much to do while putting off the things he really should have been doing. Mostly just appreciating the clean smell of the air, a faint saltiness from the ocean mixing in with the non-polluted, free-of-dog-crap odour. It wasn’t something common where he had spent most of his life. The rest had been debating internally on what counted as healthy and not healthy foods. The end had come when he realised he didn’t really care, he’d be eating pizza for the rest of his life regardless of the trans fat percentage. With no excuses left, he made his way towards the store, which required little to no effort.

He opened the door, and saw Damien reading a copy of some old book, one that his great-grandfather probably bought when the ink was fresh. Jane Eyre, he recognised. Nico has always related to the titular character, since his aunt was worse than Reed, in his eyes. Plus, every day at school felt like Lowood including the gender hierarchies, to the chagrin of the feminism club. Well, past chagrin. They’d been disbanded before the papers reached the principal.

“Hey. Great choice, loved it when I was in fifth grade. I mean, I still love it. I think. Don’t know, haven’t actually read it since fifth grade,” there were six million different thought going through his head just then, and half were just a line of swears. Nico had a problem. “Say, do you have any mythology books here? Specifically Greek.”
 
The world of Jane Eyre had completely enraptured Damien's attention, so much so that he didn't even look up with the bell rang, a signal that there was a customer. Jane's terrible early life, her aunt, being sent away-it pained him. He couldn't help the tears, Damien had always been sensitive and empathetic, but objectively it seemed ridiculous that he was crying over a fictional character. Jane's plight was so understandable. He, too, had to leave his home, his family, Damien was very much fending for himself the way Jane was.

The wetness traveled from his cheeks and landed on the yellowing pages, little circles of water shading the weathering book. A voice broke the novel's spell; Damien looked up, a frown creasing his lips as came face to face with the boy from earlier. Damien blinked, trying to take in everything he was saying, was this guy nervous? He sure talked fast. Rubbing his eyes, Damien tried to clear away evidence of the tears, his mind ready to switch into work mode. "I think we have a few things, here-" He said, standing up and heading toward a shelf. "Follow me,"

Damien bit his lip as he tried to find the mythology section. He'd been a little distracted at the hotel, not noticing the distinct features of the boy. "Everything we have that's mythology should be on this shelf." He pointed towards the exact spot. "I'm afraid we weren't properly introduced. I'm Damien" He looked and found that the man's grey eyes met his hazel unfailingly. The merman hadn't even noticed the olive skin. Humans were fascinating. Some were lighter, and some were darker than others, and some had utterly different ethnic origins.

Suddenly, he became way too aware of how close their bodies were. The two were practically standing next to each other in between to bookshelves. Damien swallowed, he was way too awkward for this. "Well, I'll just leave you to browse. Let me know if you need any more help." And with that, Damien started back for his desk.
 
"Actually, I could use some help. I'm trying to finding a certain story," he said. He found himself gaining slight confidence, as Damien seemed as tense as he was. A feat, since he felt he could knock over five shelves in under a minute if his arms weren't clammy as hell. "I'm Nico, by the way. Do you have The Iliad?"

The Iliad. A beautiful story full of murder, confusing words that he couldn't read after fourteen tries, and the supposed friendship of Patroclus and Achilles. Nico had always considered it more than a friendship, as much as his fourth grade English teacher had tried to convince him. It was why he had three copies, with the only thing that was different being the author's notes at the end and the varying levels of confusion the words caused in him. But no matter what his dwindling budget or the small part of his brain called sensibility tried to tell him, he still loved the book. And he'd neglected to bring any of the three, so he needed something to keep him occupied.

"Or I could just leave you alone with your book while I get distracted by the rest of Homer's works. I'm sure the grand escapades in Thornfield are much more exciting than helping me."

You're doing that thing again, he could hear his aunt say in his head. The same voice, squeaky and limitless in volume. Stop fidgeting! And what in the good Lord's name are you doing with your hands? For the sake of me, back straight! Straighter. As straight as a closet!

That had been an excerpt from a memory, long, long ago, before he'd even figured out just how straight his closet was.

Nico adjusted his posture accordingly. He'd gotten used to following that voice, whether it was in his head or not. And whether his closet was straight or not.
 
Damien nodded. Nico was a new name; at least he thought so. This town was full of Davids, Brads, Jennifers- it was about time there was something else. Questions floated through his mind. Where was Nico from? Why did he move to this sleepy beach town? Most of the locals had been here their whole lives, Damien himself had been the newest move to the city in over five years. His questions weren't necessary; after all, he wasn't supposed to get too close to any human. "I think we keep our copies of the Iliad down here," Bending over at the waist, Damien lowered himself to look at one of the shelves close to the floor.

Ah hah! Damien quickly grabbed one of the more beautiful copies of the revered text and raised himself. Chuckling at Nico's quirky difference, he handed him the book. "Don't worry. I'll get back to Jane's story soon enough. Let me know when you want to check out, and it was nice to meet you, Nico." Awkwardly, Damien curtsied and headed back towards his desk, leaving Nico alone with the book. If only he could slap himself. Why in the world would he curtsy? Being royalty, it made sense, but the merman had left that world. There wasn't exactly a guidebook for how to behave like a regular human. Damien all but scoured the shelves for such a book.

Back in the safety of his desk, Damien picked up the hardcover novel and picked up where he left off. The words flew off of the page and straight into his heart and soul; the story was stunning. If it were any other day, he'd be able to finish it no problem. But something was bothering him. Damien sighed, closing the book as he stared out the window. Though it wasn't visible from the shop, the sea still called to him. It had been a couple of months since his last casual swim. Was tonight the night to indulge? Damien closed his eyes, imagining the feel of the water against his skin, his glorious tail, the way the seawater wrapped him a salty-sweet cocoon of freedom.

He blinked his eyes open, reaching for the book once more. It had been ages since he exercised his magic too. Risks were something he couldn't afford, but how much longer could he ignore the sea?
 
Nico took the book, one of the better copies, he noted. One he'd tried to buy a few years back, being intrigued by the incredible art, but his mother had stopped him from doing so. Fair enough. He'd already had all three.

"Thank you," he said. Then Damien curtsied. A strange mannerism for somebody living in this town. As far as he knew, this was far from medieval times, and the boy was not a prince. Maybe he'd been raised by an old fashioned type of family. No matter. Nico had known those who did much weirder things after they spoke. One had even been arrested.

He decided to look through the rest of the mythology section. He had a bit of loose change left in his pocket, and he was begging for an excuse to not go back to his father immediately. Last time Nico had seen him, he'd been flirting with a baker in a way that if shown in theatres would require a strict parental guidance rating, and he did not want to get in the way of that.

They had all the greats, it seemed. The Aeneid, the story of a great travel to Italy. The Odyssey, the story of a wise man who took ten entire years just to get home. Prometheus's theft of fire, Hercules's many labours, Jason's loss of a sandal. He always found everything to be an escape from reality. Nico would much rather kidnap a three-headed canine from the underworld than do his homework, thank you very much.

"Right, I think I'm good now," he said, looking at Damien and holding the Iliad. "Can I check this out?"
 
Damien looked up at the sound of Nico's voice. "Well, most people usually just buy books, but I don't see why not." With a wave of his hand, he beckoned for Nico to follow him to the cash register. Opening up his laptop, Damien clicked and opened a new file for checked out books.

The antique book store wasn't exactly a library, but there a few people that the merman trust to return the book when they were finished. Still, he'd need Nico's contact information just in case he had to charge him for overages. His fingers fumbled with the keys as he made sure to note the name of the book and the date it was being checked out. With that done, all he'd need was more personal information from Nico.

A breath caught in his throat, and he coughed a little, looking away—time to get awkward. "So I'll need your full name, address, and cell phone number," Damien said softly, his cheeks warming at the request. Usually, Damien wouldn't even think twice. He'd taken multiple people's information, and it was for insurance purposes anyway. This time was different, though. Why was he so nervous?

Damien waited, his fingers primed at the keys, his eyes unable to meet Nico's. It was embarrassing, but Damien couldn't ignore that Nico was cute. For so long, the young merman had successfully ignored-didn't bother to notice attractive human men. There was no way on Posidon's damp earth that he could do anything, be with anyone. Reality had come knocking on Damien's door, and that knock was Nico.

The town was sleepy, and so were the residents! Most of them were in their golden years. Nico was the first young man that Damien had seen in years.

"Well?" Damien asked, still waiting for Nico's contact information. His brown eyes finally met Nicos.
 

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