((News bomb: this is over 4,000 words. On a plus note, I know how to write a decent kissing scene now!
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Enjoy!))

---

Staring, ogling, watching in complete awe, Mumbo observes with a limp jaw as the captain signals her crew to reel in the catch. 

Captain Cleo, with a daring smirk and strong determination, places her hands on her hip as the net lifts above the surface of the water. The hazy rain showering from above makes her waves of hair stick to her face, but that didn't stop her from grabbing her trident.

"Hurry it up, boys! Lieutenant Joe," Cleo twists her head to glance at the second in command of the deck. She pulls something small out of her ears, presumably earplugs, and hands them to the brunet male beside her. "Make sure everyone is snapped out of the siren's song. We caught a nice one." She grins, triumph shining through her eyes.

Joe grabs the earplugs and rushes off, almost slipping on the slick deck while doing so. As Mumbo and a few of his friends watch from the sidelines of the boat, the entire net plants down on the planks. What was inside startles Mumbo, his eyes growing wide as he takes an unknowing step forward to get a better glance.

Writhing under the weight of the rope is a male siren. His eyes are large and round, pupils dilated with terror as he relentlessly flaps his tail to break free. The siren's attempts are worthless as Doc, Xb, Keralis, and TFC hold him down. They all pull out spears that were tied to the sail post, all glittering with the rainfall, and point directly at his skin.

"I'm sorry! It was my father who took one of your crew members, not me!" The siren suddenly pleads loudly. The light chocolate scales etched along with his tail shimmer under the limited streaks of light passing through the grim clouds. The pastel brown color reminds Mumbo of a codfish lazily strolling inside a river on an afternoon day.

Cleo presses the three-pointed ends of her trident into his chest, letting the spear tips sink into his scarred olive flesh like a knife cutting through butter at room temperature. Tiny spheres of blood collect on his chest and trickle down the siren's body. They leave a fresh blood trail before rolling onto the wooden planks of the deck.

"Your kind still took one of us," Cleo hisses. "Your filthy kind has stolen many humans, feasting on us like it's Thanksgiving. Xisuma was perfectly fine before your ugly species lured him into a trap! His innocent nature never had a chance at seas." She presses harder, making him cry out with a choke cluttered at the base of his throat. He tries to take Cleo's trident off of him, but the female captain didn't even budge.

Mumbo wasn't sure why this felt wrong. He wasn't sure if it was the blood that had streamed down the sides of the siren's torso or the labored choking cries resonating the misty air, but his heart wrenches painfully, not finding any second of this scene pleasant. He thinks a mile per second, and for a tiny glimpse, he could've sworn the siren's begging eyes flickered over to his.

"Stop!"

It was unnoticed at first that the word passed his lips until most of the pairs of eyes on the deck hunted his body. He was certain that it wasn't him that said that but when Cleo gave him a sharp glare, he suddenly realized that it was indeed himself that mistakenly yelled the word.

"What do you mean 'stop'? His generation of disgusting sirens has killed far more pirates, it's only fair that we have fair trade," Cloe sneers. While Mumbo knows Cleo has a naturally good heart, he has never seen her look more fierce before. Her eyes bubble with rage, angrier than her brilliant orange hair when it's not tamed.

"What I mean is," Mumbo's eyes dance across the member's outside before looking back into Cleo's ferocious green ones. "If you kill him now, his tail will rot. Selling his tail will surely provide a lot of money since it is incredibly rare catching a siren or mermaid. So, we keep him. Then, when we get back to the harbor, you slice his tail off for millions."

"Blimey, it will take a month to get back to the shore of our homelands!" Cleo growls before looking down. The pressure of the trident seeping into the siren's chest eases. "But you make a fair point. Selling his tail and torturing him is more worth it. His tail will rot if we kill him now, hm." She ponders for a stunned moment of silence.

After what seemed to be hauling, deliberate minutes of absolutely no words from the captain, she pulls her trident from the net and strikes it by her side. Mumbo sighs with sweet relief despite the agitated expression spreading across Cleo's face.

"Boys, bring him to a bathtub and make sure you chain him up!" Cleo demands, pinning her eyes on Mumbo. "We're going to head back. And that is an order." She growls, alerting Mumbo to nod his head silently to indicate he listened to her. He makes his way up the stairs to the steering wheel before changing the direct path of their ship.

---

Setting down a bucket of dead salmon and grey carp next to a bathtub full of water, Mumbo reaches out gingerly to take off the cloth that acts as a gag for the siren. Grian, as Mumbo learned the siren's name over the weeks, rubs his sore face as soon as Mumbo unlatches it.

"Thanks... again," Grian mutters, the split fin at the end of his pale hazelnut tail flipping in what Mumbo assumes is happiness. As the weeks have been ticking by, Mumbo has been serving Grian a bucket of fish every other day while gaining knowledge of Grian's whereabouts. Cleo may claim Grian is wasting all of their food, but Mumbo refuses to believe it.

There was something about Grian that has captured Mumbo's attention. Despite Grian describing all the magnificent diamond blues and peridot greens on mermaid's tails, and even saying he is nothing special, Mumbo was still interested. All the merfolks had told Grian that he was infamous for his many scars and they found him revolting. Scars were seen as hideous markings underwater, yet, Mumbo found himself staring at the dozens of pale lines littering Grian's body.

"I don't understand why you saved me. Even though I'm going to have a more horrible death, no thanks to you, my life was not worthwhile. Hell, I'm not even that special compared to other sirens. Dull brown tail with scars and dull golden, mopy hair. I'm seriously not worth the trouble," Grian sighs.

"I really don't mind the colors. But your scars..." Mumbo trails off, making Grian wince slightly. Grian knew the topic of his scars would come around. All the rude comments about his body should have made him used to the hatred by now, but it has not, and every single nasty remark stings his lonely heart to this day. "It's like," Mumbo's heart stutters as he tries to gather words. "It's like I'm looking at a history book. Each scar marking an event in your life. They're gorgeous."

Grian's breath seems to vanish as he begins to hack on nothing but his very own surprise. To add on, his face flushes a gentle wine red. Mumbo's eyes widened, now regretting that he said anything at all, and for a split moment, he believed he said something offensive. Just as he was about to apologize, Grian holds up a finger and presses it flatly against Mumbo's lips.

"You... actually like them? I have always found them gross because of other sirens but," he lowers his hand back in the bathtub. "I don't see why they are great. I don't want them." Grian lightly coughs and lays his head on the brim of the bathtub. His face has become noticeably paler than the day he was captured.

"I see your condition is not doing any better," Mumbo says and pushes the bucket of rotting fish closer to the tub. As much as Mumbo wants to tell himself that it's simply just malnutrition, he knows full well that sirens need the open water for good health. Guilt washed inside of his chest and he's ashamed for keeping a nice, amiable siren inside the bathtub.

"No duh," Grian comments, rolling his eyes and turning over so Mumbo can only see Grian's backside. "I'm very homesick and I'm not feeling my greatest. I'm counting the days to my demise." He gives another sigh, this one heavier with much more emotions, such as the gentle waver in his breath like he was about to cry.

Mumbo sits on the ground and concentrates on any possibilities of improving the evening. Although they have known each other for around two weeks, Mumbo knows not only intel but research about Grian's species to know what factors can improve their condition. Withdrawing away from his mind and back into reality, he stands back up and reaches over to the faucet.

Both the hot and cold metal dial on the faucet twists and Mumbo allows the water to pour into the bowl of the sink. It hisses as it rushes out, and Mumbo plugs the drain before any water could get wasted. Grian lifts his head from raw curiosity. His blue eyes gaze at Mumbo's figure as he obtains towels before stuffing them under the door to prevent any water from escaping the room.

"Mumbo, what are you doing?" Grian stretches his words with an unsure tone as he sits up.

"What? I can't give you some fun?" Mumbo's lips curl into a wolfish grin and he begins to strip his clothes off. First, his bland shirt, lazily and teasingly pulling the article of clothing over his shoulders. He adds it to the small collection of towels, shoving it in any available gaps.

"Oh my goodness!" Grian squeaks as his cheeks flush to deep, hefty ruby. He tries to turn his head to glimpse away, but his eyes cannot stop studying Mumbo's built body as the man in front of him removes his dark trousers.

"Relax. I won't reveal everything," Mumbo laughs despite the drizzle of red spreading across his face. "Sirens and such don't wear clothes, so I thought this would feel a little bit more... natural?" When the words passed his lips, Mumbo found himself cringing inwardly. In an awkward response, all Grian can do is laugh shyly.

The water from the sink has flooded and begins to drop down to the floor. Generally, Grian may not understand humans and their inventions, but he has twisted the knobs of his bathtub a few times before to quickly figure out that water would spew out. And knowing Mumbo will not stop the sink faucet anytime soon, he turns the dials at the end of his bathtub to let water pour out.

"I think I figured out your plan," Grian says loud enough over the sound of rushing water. The surface rises, which makes Mumbo grin wider. Furthermore, when the surface of the water reaches Mumbo's waist, Grian submerges his head underwater and drifts out of the bathtub. He ruffles his dirty blond locks, watching it as it floats around his head before diving upwards to meet back with Mumbo.

"I know you like it, admit it," Mumbo says and smiles again once Grian pops out of the top. His drenched hair overlapped across his eyes.

"Oh hush, this is sort of fun. The water tastes like metal, which is not appealing, but some of your things are floating which is funny," Grian giggles and picks up a toothbrush. Quickly, Grian gasps and drops the toothbrush back inside the water. "I almost forgot! Humans cannot breathe underwater!"

Mumbo figured Grian would question it. Even though Grian has limited knowledge about people's technology, inventions, and species roaming the land, Mumbo knows Grian has far more intelligence than many other species underwater. Not only that, but Grian's escape routes out of the ship weren't bad. One of Grian's plans was to entirely deluge the bathroom, as they are doing right now, but the crack under the door would be a dead give away and drain the water before it has the chance of filling the bathroom an inch.

"That's why I won't fill the entire bathroom. I'll leave a little bit of air at the top for myself. Unless you want me to drown," Mumbo answers. Grian narrows his eyes and thins his lips in thought.

"Well, there is an old myth that I can try then," Grian says. Mumbo decides not to question it as he turns off the bathtub's faucet. The pleasant water has reached over halfway, finally enveloping Mumbo in warmth. His head was close to the low ceiling of the ship anyways, it was a reminder, so he kicked over to the sink before twisting that faucet shut as well.

The low rumble of rippling water clouds Mumbo's ears. The only sound he can make out is a faint swish of what he inquisitively presumes is Grian swimming around. His vision consists mostly of shapeless blobs of colors, mainly brown from the walls and Grian. Miniature air bubbles escape from his nose and he swims up to catch a quick breath then sinks back down.

His eyes squint as he looks at Grian while the siren treads closer. His movements are not rapid, but rather calm, collective, and relaxed as he twirls around Mumbo. The thin end of his tail grace across Mumbo's face. Mumbo shakes his head or tries to as the water restricts his actions, to get the tale away from his face. He can shape out the smirk on Grian's face, his blurry flushed lips curling upwards into his plump cheeks.

Admittingly, Mumbo wasn't sure what the round of 'Fin-slapping-face' game Grian was playing. He supposes Grian is only messing around with him, probably since it will be the only opportunity he will ever have with slapping Mumbo's face with his delicate, feather-light fins. The raven's feet land on the ground slowly and he jumps up to get another batch of air.

But when he did that, Grian took his hands. Alarms begin to flair around in Mumbo's mind as Grian pulls Mumbo back down, forcing him to stay underwater. His lungs started burning, screaming for air, and the way his face contorted with discomfort told Grian that he was silently asking for oxygen.

Instead of letting Mumbo free, Grian leans forward to link their lips together. He was above Mumbo, so he tilted the other's chin up to make their connected lips fall into a deeper kiss. His tail manages to wedge in between Mumbo's legs and wrap around one of his ankles. Fear rises inside of Grian for he wasn't sure if the myth he was thinking about was true. If it wasn't, he would have to rush Mumbo above the surface.

Mumbo's heart drums inside of his ears, the only other noise occupying the soothing silence. His lungs stopped frantically requesting for air. Likewise, Mumbo thought he was ready to enter infinite darkness and ready to embrace death, but it didn't happen. It wasn't necessarily a bad death, kissing an attractive creature from the seas, instead he has accepted his expiration.

His lungs were not prodding like blazing needles anymore.

He immediately realized that he was breathing underwater. Like a new passageway entered and carved at the side of his neck. Before he can react any other way, he roughly pushes off of Grian in extreme panic. The padding of his fingers skims the flesh on his neck and to his suspicions, little bumps line across the side of his neck.

That's when Mumbo, with no mind in his head to rationally think, decided to rapidly unplug the drains.

---

"I'm sorry," Grian says while facing downwards to avoid any means of eye contact. "I wasn't even sure if it was true or not. And now tomorrow morning, my tail is going to be ripped off and I will die. Ships ahoy. By early dawn..." His freckled cheek lays against the metal wall of the tub. "You will reach the shore. May this be our last night, Mumbo."

During the span of his small talk, Mumbo leans against the dry outer shell of the bathtub. Speechless. A bucket of fish bones and flies rests next to Mumbo's feet, the purifying odor not affecting Mumbo because of the many years he has witnessed the reeking aroma of the ocean. Not that all oceans have a stench, but the many dead fish and garbage he has come by surely have a rancid whiff occasionally.

"I'm sorry I freaked out weeks ago. It's a nice surprise, the ability to breathe underwater I mean. Even if some people are peculiar of my neck," Mumbo says. His eyelids flutter shut and he leans his head back, facing the ceiling. The tension between them has hardly eased since the night of their little fun. It was hard to speak normally to one another without apologizing for the cumbersome anxiety.

"Right. I should have asked for permission, I dunno. Before we depart, I just want to say that I had some fun. You made my month less miserable, and I appreciate it," Grian smiles even though Mumbo can't see it from the position on the floor. Based on the tone of Grian's voice, Mumbo didn't need to see the siren's expression to know that he's accepting his demise. It was truly unfair how he was captured for his father's doing, but nothing could be done about it since the hatred inside of humans drives them to hunt threatening species in the water.

Mumbo smiles weakly as an idea collects in his brain, almost like an animated light-bulb popping into existence above his head. He sits up and dusts himself off, telling Grian he would be back later when everyone is asleep. The bathroom door shut behind him, and while his plan was risky, he mutely prayed that it would work.

Everyone's guards would be down on the night before reaching the shore. Meaning the crew members would want a well-rested night for the next morning. Everyone knows the siren has not attempted to try and escape, mainly because there were no good routes to follow. One idea was luring a crew member into helping Mumbo pull Grian, but Cleo would hear the call of the siren and know something was up.

As Mumbo walks down the wooden corridor, his shoulder brushes against another person. A hand abruptly seizes his shoulder. Mumbo's snap wide and, without any reluctance, twists his head so he can see the person. He recognizes the hazel eyes behind the black-rimmed glasses all too well.

"Oh," Mumbo says and turns his body to fully face Joe. "Hey, Joe..."

"Mumbo," Joe's eyes dart around, confirming that no one else is nearby. "Don't think I know what is going on between you and that siren." Mumbo's throat turns dry as he tries to plaster a poker face. Joe continues. "The way you stare at him and... I want to help."

"Help?" Mumbo raises an eyebrow, confusion settling clearly across his expression.

"Help him out of this place. Creatures of the blue seas have been merely fascinating and I cannot witness a poor siren get half of his body sliced off. I know I should have told you sooner, but I feel this is the perfect night. I was going to be on guard patrol, making sure the captain is asleep and help you."

If there were a flight of stairs, Mumbo would have tumbled down them and been already at the bottom. The word shock could not comprehend the feeling welling inside of his chest. Excitement? Overjoyed? Relief? Combined all together, it was more than Mumbo can limit himself to.

"Oh my gosh, Joe!" Mumbo smiles widely, almost on the brink of squealing. "Thank you so much! Let's discuss this in your bedroom for more privacy."

---

The night was pushing further into the morning time. Even though it was exhausting, Mumbo felt proud of the plan working.

Joe stayed with him through the entire process, keeping a sharp check on all of the rooms while also helping Mumbo carry Grian out. A siren is not exactly as light as a cloud. They weigh plenty more than a human because of their large tails, which consists mostly of muscle.

Mumbo leans against the deck railing, glancing towards Grian who is sitting on top of it. The obsidian haired man advised Grian not to sit on the railing because of splinters, but Grian waved it off, explaining that sirens can heal fairly quickly. It wasn't enough to convince Mumbo. However, he let the rebellious siren do as he wished because of the high level of cuteness Grian provided when he begged to sit on top.

"Is this goodbye?" Mumbo sighs. He rests his chin on his folded arms. The black sky has emerged to a dim blue near the eastern coast of the water. Grian's lips twitch to a comforting smile, but even he can't seem to give reassurance.

"May the stars of our ancestors align and may we meet again, Mumbo," Grian says formerly as if he is praying or giving a small blessing to the twilight sky. Mumbo looks down at the rocking waves, moving slickly yet elegantly against the side of the boat.

Mumbo has considered living with Grian plenty of times. But there were many cons to the future he wishes to have. Sharks would easily kill him because he doesn't have a tail to swim with. He will get homesick, or rather land sick. The pressure of the water would absolutely crush him if he sinks.

Grian completely understands a human that can breathe underwater needs more than another set of lungs to survive. And the other way around would be the same if he was on land. The siren would need loads of water. Hell, he couldn't even walk on land without someone carrying or pushing him around. Despite Mumbo giving a funny tale on how he can heave Grian around on a wagon, he knew that would get tiring and inefficient.

"Maybe again soon. The captain would not be pleased to see you again," Mumbo says and tangles his fingers with Grian's open hand. "But maybe our souls will reunite." With an absent mind, Mumbo lifts himself on his toes to kiss Grian's lips once. The heat rose to his cheeks as Grian breaks it off before kissing his lips back.

It wasn't hungry, begging for a desirable kiss, but rather one of desperation and passion. Such as not wanting to win a battle, but to rather seek union and closeness with one another as Grian cups Mumbo's face. It was sweet and short-lived, their lips repeatedly meeting tenderly. Their pepper kisses were inexperienced, but each kiss reflected a different emotion that made both of their hearts drum together in a lovely rhythm.

When a warm, yellow light flickered on, the two disconnected their lips with a startled look. There were no signs of another person despite the light flooding onto the deck. Grian gently tilts Mumbo's chin, staring longingly at him with sadness to his gaze.

"May the stars align," Mumbo uses a strong effort to smile. Grian smiles back. The two share another tiny kiss before Grian promptly hops from the railing. The water crashed when he landed inside. Mumbo waits a minute, peering down at the water, watching like the very day they met.

Grian didn't come back as the minutes stretched the silence. Mumbo might never see Grian again in the duration of his life. As the rushing dawn dragged the sun above the horizon, he knows one thing deep in his heart.

The stars will connect one day, and their souls will happily reunite once again.