Disinterest was the one thing that Perseus showed outwardly as he watched Jason’s cock being suckled by a tendril of water of his own making.

Jason, though, could not be fooled. He could feel Perseus’ arousal through their bond. He could feel the fire that had been stoked in Perseus’ loins. Perseus’ want was sharp and pungent. It was scathing and savage, but at the same time, it was also playful.

Jason truly did not know what to make of it, but there were more important things on his mind. “Perseus,” he hissed as he was cheated of a climax for the tenth time in as many minutes.

“Perseus!” Jason shouted through the bond between his mind and Perseus’. “Unhand me at once!” he demanded. A part of him wanted to think that Perseus would listen to him just this once, but the gleam of mischief in Perseus’ eye told him that help—and the freedom that came with it—was not going to be forthcoming.

Jason struggled against the taut tendrils of seawater that bound him. Wrists, waist, ankles. All the places he could have moved himself were bound save for his wings, but he suspected that if he used those to try and get away, they would be bound too.

Inevitably, Jason’s resistance to the tendrils crumbled. He had been trying to climb out of the chair for the last few minutes, but it was as ineffective as it was tiring. The tendrils pulled him back into a proper sitting position atop the throne, the back of the chair moulding to fit his wings comfortably.

More tentacles snaked out of the watery surface of the throne and wound around Jason’s thighs and his calves. They pulled his legs apart, and up toward his chest. The tentacles exposed not only his limp cock, but also his most private entrance.

Nico sat on a fencepost at the end of the farmland that had been left to him after his father’s untimely death no more than a year and a half ago. He did not want to look back on that time, but when everything in the farm reminded him of the family he’d lost, it was difficult at times and almost impossible at others.

Mournful notes drifted from the wooden flute that Nico held to his lips. Behind him, much of the farmland that had lain fallow since the last winter—the last time that he had had help with the management of the farm.

The song Nico played was a lilting and grieving one. It was difficult not to grieve. The solitude of being a lone farm boy on a property much too big for one man to handle, much less a boy just on the cusp of becoming one, was almost crushing.

Nico was at a loss for what to do. He hadn’t known where to go or whom to talk to for the longest time. “Bianca,” he whispered, to no one in particular. The notes from his flute fell silent. “I wish you were here,” he said.

Jason’s memory of the first time that he had gone through one of the merfolk Waterways was both fuzzy and not-so-fond. That had been quite the traumatising experience.

Jason had, after all, gone through the Waterway clinging just to the very end of Perseus’ tail. Even then, he had only just barely been able to hold on.

Truth be told, Jason liked to think that the entire ordeal had been quite the turbulent experience for the both of them. He still hadn’t wrapped his head around how close he had been to getting catapulted to gods know where—and left to drown there without any help.

Thankfully, Jason never had to go through that terrifying darkness again.

When Jason woke up, the sun was already shining brightly through the window of the captain’s quarters. It wasn’t too great an inconvenience. Perseus was well aware that Jason didn’t have much more to do that day than hopefully find a worthy crew for the ship.

“Good morning, sunshine,” said Perseus, as the sky-fae blinked bleary eyes at him. He pressed a kiss to Jason’s face and tried to shift, but found himself well and truly stuck.

“Why am I sticky?” Jason groaned. He stretched his arms above his head. Just as he did, Perseus saw an opening and jammed his fingers in Jason’s armpits. Jason roared with laughter. “S-s-stop!” he begged as Perseus mercilessly tickled him.