Chapter Text
Quackity was a sailor. Some would say a pirate, but he preferred sailor. A swash-buckling, ship-stealing, sailor. Yes. He and his crew were sailors.
God, he had been everywhere. Felt like he’d seen everything. He watched entire empires of ships rise and fall, he’d seen more treasure than anyone could imagine, he’d seen all the beauty and love the world had to offer, but he’d also seen all its sorrow.
What he’d never seen, however, was a siren.
He was sure the beautiful beings of the sea existed. He knew they did. Once, standing on the bow of the ship, he saw a shimmering blue-green tail in the water and then it was gone.
The waves gently rocked the ship late at night, and Quackity could not sleep. He decided to wander out on deck, taking in the fresh sea air. He leaned on the railings of the port side, watching the water as it glittered.
Staring at the waves, he nearly missed the singing that drifted in on the salty breeze. He tried to brush it off when it caught him, excusing it as a trick of the ears. Being in the cabin for so long had to be getting to him.
But again, he heard the singing, and this time, he felt drawn to it. He walked to the stern of the ship, and…
There, sitting on a rock nearby the ship, sat a siren.
It was the most beautiful creature Quackity had ever seen. Eyes of honeygold that churned like the sea itself, ringlets of earthen colored hair framing his face, broken only by a single strand of snow white, appearing impossibly dry despite being so damp.
As the gorgeous creature hummed, Quackity found it impossible to look away. Even the thought of averting his eyes felt downright sinful.
“Hello, handsome,” the siren crooned. His voice rolled like the ocean during a storm. “You’re up late.”
Quackity couldn't speak. He was far too lost in those eyes. Those wild, dangerous, honeyed eyes. Soft enough to make him believe drowning might feel like flying. He took a slow step closer to the railing of the deck.
The siren followed the movement with his gaze, tilting his head as he watched the man approach. The smirk grew wider, revealing the sharp ends of slightly fang-like teeth. Those eyes were almost hypnotizing, and as Quackity got closer, the pull was even stronger.
"Aren’t you so bold?" he teased. He was beautiful and terrifying all at once, a dangerous, captivating creature. "Come on, darling. Let me take the suffering from you. Just jump in the water.”
Quackity wasn’t thinking as he felt the rush of water around himself. He tried to fight the current, once he registered its existence, but it was a fight in vain. When the beautiful siren swam closer, it didn't seem worth it. This siren was so much more amazing up close.
His chest burned as he lost oxygen. The slender fingers of the siren gently cupped his face, and he wasn't entirely mad that it might be the last thing he ever felt. It wasn’t a cruel touch, like something that was killing him might have. He appreciated it.
- - -
The siren's touch was cool, silken against Quackity's skin. He pulled the man closer, almost tenderly, letting his tail loop around him to keep them together despite the current's efforts to separate them. His honeyed eyes flicked over Quackity's face, taking in the sight of the man.
He couldn't remember the last time a human had looked at him this way. No fear, no anger, just... awe. It was almost cute. Almost enough to make him guilty. Almost. At least, that’s what he told himself.
"You're beautiful," he whispered softly, his breath ghosting over Quackity's cheeks in the form of gentle bubbles. Something akin to remorse stabbed through his chest as he watched this man drown. He looked so sweet.
He watched the last remnants of oxygen bubble out of the sailor’s mouth, and a jolt of panic shot down his spine. He wasn’t sure why. This man should be nothing more than a meal. But he did nothing to the siren. He did nothing to deserve a fate such as this. It shouldn’t matter, his logic told him.
But it does matter, said his heart.
In a very short war, his heart won out. He wrapped his arms under Quackity’s shoulders, and pulled him up above the water. He laid him on the rock, and tried to figure out what to do. He knew how to make a man drown. Saving a man from drowning was a separate story.
He gently brushed a strand of hair from his face. His lips pressed into a tight line at the sight of Quackity’s eyes so tightly shut. He slowly, gently, pressed down on his back. He watched as the man coughed and expelled sea water. It made him sigh in relief.
“Come on, darling, breathe for me,” he whispered, repeating the action. The sailor’s coughs grew louder and more violent, before he was sitting bolt upright, hacking the last bits of water up. In a small panic, the siren fell back into the water, only his eyes surfacing to watch Quackity.
- - -
Quackity took a few heaving breaths, one hand going to grasp at his chest. It rattled and burnt, but on the bright side, he wasn’t dying. Probably. He looked around for his savior, and slowly spotted the pair of eyes just above the surface.
“You saved me,” he rasped out. The siren emerged from the water a slight bit more.
“I also almost killed you.”
“I’m focusing on the fact you saved me.”
The siren rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms on the rock, and stared up at Quackity. There were those churning eyes of gold again. Absolutely beautiful.
“You’re strange,” said Quackity. The siren frowned in offense, and Quackity blanched. “Not in a bad way!” he quickly corrected. “Just…strange. What’s your name? Do sirens have names?”
The siren rolled his eyes, and splashed at Quackity. “Yes, you imbecile, sirens have names.”
“And yours is…?” Quackity gave him an expectant look. He scoffed.
“Your turn first, darling.”
Quackity huffed. Insistent siren. “Quackity.”
The siren nodded. “Good.” He shook his head, a few water droplets flying onto Quackity’s face. “My name is Wilbur.”
Quackity snorted. Wilbur gave him a look, and he waved a hand. “Sorry,” he said between giggles, “but fucking Wilbur?”
“I can and will pull you back in, you know that?” Wilbur pulled away from the rock, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at Quackity. Quackity shook his head.
“No no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll shut up.”
“Good,” Wilbur nodded. He dropped his arms, and looked away from Quackity awkwardly. “I’m…leaving now. Figure out how to get back on the ship.”
“Wait!” Quackity called, reaching a hand out for Wilbur before he swam off. “When will you come back?”
Wilbur paused in his exit. “...Back? I just tried to drown you.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t. So when are you coming back?”
Wilbur sighed. “Whenever I feel like it. Good-bye, sailor.”
Quackity gave a lop-sided grin and waved. Wilbur felt the corner of his mouth twitching as he dropped himself back into the water.
Quackity watched the siren swim away, and let his shoulders drop. That was an oddly pleasant experience. He hoped to meet the siren again, at some point. He really hoped he would.