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M'Baku felt ridiculous. It was midday, and the loud announcement of the next mermaid show blared from the aquarium's speakers, interrupting the constant murmur of water and the laughter of visitors. His break had started just a few minutes ago, giving him nearly an hour before he needed to return to the office. Still, he could afford a little detour; after all, he was a prominent figure in the company, and if anyone questioned his absence, he could always blame it on some urgent matter. Adjusting the jacket of his impeccable three-piece suit, he walked with a purposeful stride among the exhibits, standing out like a giant among the crowd, especially the children running around him.
The air smelled of salt and disinfectant, a peculiar combination that nonetheless felt familiar and comforting. He knew exactly where each tank was and what creatures inhabited every corner of the aquarium. His gaze barely lingered on the vibrant tropical fish or the jellyfish drifting like ethereal dancers in their illuminated displays. In his hands, he carried a carefully prepared lunchbox, intended for someone special—a being who, to him, was nothing less than an aquatic marvel.
At that moment, the speakers began playing an unexpected song. Calle de las sirenas by Kabah mingled with the chatter of visitors. The irony of the musical choice brought a faint smile to his lips as he continued down the main hall, each step echoing on the wet tiled floor. When he reached the massive main tank—an artificial coral reef towering over twenty meters high—he allowed himself a moment to pause. The biodiversity within was breathtaking: fish of all shapes and colors danced among the corals as if performing an underwater ballet.
M'Baku settled on a bench facing the glass. Glancing at his watch, a luxurious Rolex glinting under the lights, he calculated that it wouldn’t be long before *he* arrived. Even so, time seemed to crawl slower than usual. His attention drifted to a trio of children arguing a few steps away from where he sat.
“I already told you, Morgan, mermaids don’t exist,” said a boy with light brown hair and a freckled face, crossing his arms with the authority of someone who believes they hold the absolute truth. He couldn’t have been older than eleven, but his tone carried the weight of a teacher scolding a student.
“Harley, even if they don’t exist, you don’t have to say it like that,” retorted another boy, this one with darker brown hair and a visibly uncomfortable expression.
“Shut up, Peter! Mermaids do exist, and they say here that one has even been seen for real,” shouted a smaller girl, no older than eight. Her braids swung wildly as she stomped the floor in frustration.
“I’m telling you, Morgan, mermaids aren’t real. There’s no scientific research to back their existence, let alone one appearing in some neighborhood aquarium,” Harley scoffed, exuding the condescending attitude that only know-it-all children seem to master.
"Yes, they do! Yes, they do!" Morgan began stomping harder, her small figure trembling with indignation as her eyes filled with frustrated tears.
“Enough, stop fighting,” Peter intervened with a conciliatory tone that was completely ignored.
The scene drew a smile from M’Baku, who, unable to resist, leaned forward and spoke, “Hey, kid. Mermaids do exist. You should stop saying otherwise.”
Morgan turned to him, her face lighting up with a mixture of hope and surprise, while Harley squinted at him, clearly unhappy with the adult’s interference. Peter, meanwhile, seemed undecided, watching him with a mix of distrust and curiosity.
“That’s not true,” Harley retorted, puffing out his chest. “If they did exist, we would’ve seen them by now.”
“You haven’t seen them because you don’t know how to call them,” M’Baku replied mysteriously, letting his words hang in the air. Seeing Morgan’s eyes grow as wide as saucers, he knew he had her full attention. Harley frowned even more, while Peter continued observing silently.
“Is there a ritual?” Morgan asked, practically bouncing in place.
“There is,” M’Baku said, nodding solemnly. “It’s a very simple ritual, but it requires patience and a lot of faith.” He leaned down to her level, his voice soft but charged with an air of seriousness. “The first step is to place your open hands in front of where you believe the mermaid will appear.”
The girl needed no further instructions. She pressed her small hands against the tank’s glass with such devotion that it brought a smile to M’Baku’s face. Meanwhile, Harley scoffed again, crossing his arms and muttering something inaudible, though his expression betrayed a flicker of curiosity. Peter simply observed, seemingly willing to wait and see what would happen.
M’Baku glanced toward the water with a conspiratorial grin. They had no idea what was about to unfold.
“All of you need to do it,” M’Baku added, his smile teetering between mischief and camaraderie. He watched as Peter gave Harley a gentle nudge, coaxing the reluctant boy to mimic Morgan’s gesture. Though skeptical, Harley eventually relented with a dramatic huff, as if it were the greatest burden ever. Now all three children stood with their hands pressed to the glass, their tiny figures casting shadows on the illuminated tank.
“Now, concentrate,” M’Baku instructed in a low voice, almost a whisper laden with an ancient mystery. “Put all your hope, all your faith, into summoning a mermaid.”
Morgan poured every ounce of her energy into the moment, squeezing her eyes shut so tightly her face scrunched up like a crumpled piece of paper. She stuck out her tongue, as if that might channel her wishes more effectively. If not for the solemnity of the situation, muffled laughter might have echoed from some amused observer. The girl was so focused it was easy to imagine steam pouring from her ears.
Peter, more restrained, closed his eyes as well, his lips moving slightly as though whispering a wish to the water. Harley, on the other hand, wore an expression of irritation and disbelief. Yet under Peter’s subtle pressure and Morgan’s contagious enthusiasm, he begrudgingly shut his eyes, doing so with the reluctant air of someone indulging a ridiculous whim they couldn’t wait to escape.
“You have to put all your will, all your heart into it. That’s how you summon a true water dweller,” M’Baku continued, leaning toward them, his voice deep as the ocean itself.
Morgan, her forehead almost touching the glass, stretched her tiny hands forward and shut her eyes, as if silently reciting some secret wish in her mind. She gathered all her energy, concentrating her desire to believe, to see something magical, to have a real mermaid appear before her. The intensity of her yearning was almost tangible, as though it could pierce the glass separating her from the water. Her whole small body seemed to vibrate with contained emotion, and the murmurs of the aquarium faded away in her mind. She was completely absorbed.
Then, a sound. Soft taps, like a muffled echo, resonated from the other side of the glass. Morgan’s eyes snapped open. Her mouth formed a small "oh" of wonder as she saw it. Inside the massive tank, among the corals and the dancing light of the water, there was a mermaid.
No, it was a merman, and his very presence was overwhelming. His skin had a warm tone, a perfect blend of bronze and honey, glowing as if the light of the water was caressing him with devotion. His hair, black as jet, floated around him, undulating with the movement of the water, while his dark eyes, as deep as the night, seemed to contain stars. His gaze was captivating, powerful, as though it could bridge the distance between them and read every thought in the minds of the children watching him.
He wore a chest piece adorned with golden and multicolored beads that shimmered like treasure lost at the bottom of the sea. His chest was proud, imposing, decorated with intricate bracelets and necklaces that jingled with each movement. On his nose was a jade piercing, as if it had been carved by the gods themselves. But what fascinated them most was his tail, a majestic extension of deep green scales that glistened like gems under the light, decorated with chains and golden necklaces that danced with every movement.
Peter and Harley, who had initially been standing farther back, slowly approached, their eyes wide open as if they could barely blink. Harley’s disbelief crumbled in an instant, while Peter muttered something incomprehensible, caught between awe and doubt.
"He's a mermaid! A real mermaid!" Morgan exclaimed with uncontainable joy. She bounced in place, staring at the figure in the tank as if she’d just discovered the answer to all the universe’s mysteries. "What’s your name?" she asked with the fearless spontaneity of a child.
The merman flashed a sly smile. Slowly, he swam closer to the glass, extending a long, slender finger adorned with golden rings. He pressed it gently to the glass in front of Morgan, then began tracing letters in the air with deliberate movements.
"N... A... M... O... R..."
"Namor! Your name is Namor, isn’t it?" Morgan squealed with excitement, clapping her hands. Her enthusiasm was infectious, drawing a soft smile from Peter, though Harley remained too stunned to speak.
Namor inclined his head slightly in an elegant gesture, acknowledging her guess. Then, with a fluid motion, he swam away. The show was just beginning. He moved with the grace of a dancer, his tail gliding effortlessly through the water, yet there was an undercurrent of predatory intensity in his movements, like a shark prowling in the depths. The fish didn’t scatter as one might expect. Instead, they followed him, swirling around him in a mesmerizing vortex of color. Namor commanded the tank’s attention, a sovereign of his watery realm.
The growing crowd around the tank buzzed with awe. Murmurs gave way to gasps and exclamations of admiration. Men, women, children, and elders all stopped in their tracks, transfixed by the marine spectacle. Namor’s movements stole their breath, his spins and sudden disappearances behind coral leaving the audience hungry for more.
At last, after one final elegant twirl, Namor vanished behind a shimmering curtain of fish. It was as if the ocean itself had reclaimed him, leaving behind a silence charged with wonder.
“Did you see that?! I *told* you mermaids are real!” Morgan shouted, pointing triumphantly at Harley. Her accusatory finger and victorious expression were impossible to miss. “There was a real one, right there!”
“Oh, man... Mermaids do exist,” Harley muttered, his disbelief crumbling into pure fascination.
“Thank you, sir! Because of you, we saw a real mermaid, and—” Morgan whirled around, eager to thank the man who had made this magical moment possible. But the bench was empty. M’Baku was gone, vanished as if he’d never been there.
“Sir?” Morgan called out, her voice trembling with a hint of unease. She glanced around, but there was no sign of him. Peter and Harley exchanged glances while Morgan continued her search.
It seemed M’Baku had disappeared... just like the merman.
...
M'Baku stepped through the door marked with a sign that read "Employees Only – Authorized Personnel." For anyone else, it might have been a clear boundary, a line not to be crossed. But for him, it was little more than a formality. With his commanding presence and air of authority, he passed through without hesitation, his footsteps echoing with confidence on the tiled floor.
On the other side, a break room unfolded before him, starkly lit by cool white lights. The space was utilitarian, bare of decoration or warmth—nearly empty save for one figure who seemed to fill the entire room with his mere presence.
There sat K'uk'ulkan.
He was perched on a bench, a towel draped over his shoulders as water trickled down his bronzed skin. His dark, damp hair hung in loose strands, absorbing every bit of light in the room. On a small table in front of him lay the pieces of his costume: the golden chest piece and bracelets that had shimmered so majestically underwater. Here, stripped of context, they seemed lighter, almost unassuming. K'uk'ulkan was in the middle of removing his earrings, his fingers moving with deliberate calm.
The sound of M'Baku's approach made him glance up, a playful smile spreading across his face. It wasn’t just any smile—it was that smile, full of mischief and warmth, the one he knew made the African’s resolve waver every time.
“I didn’t know you had a knack for entertaining children,” K'uk'ulkan teased, setting the towel aside.
“Ha, and you enjoy being the center of attention far too much,” M'Baku shot back, his lips curling into a half-smile.
“Well, this ‘attention hog,’ as you say, happens to be your boyfriend,” K'uk'ulkan retorted with mock indignation, one eyebrow arching provocatively.
M'Baku sighed, a dramatic show of exasperation, before closing the distance between them. He leaned down, pressing a brief but meaningful kiss to K'uk'ulkan’s lips. Though the gesture was routine, it sparked something deep in both of them—a quiet reminder of the connection they shared.
“Namora sent me to bring you lunch,” M'Baku explained, placing a neatly packed lunchbox into his boyfriend’s hands. “Apparently, your family’s comfortable enough with me now to use me as an errand boy.”
“And don’t complain, because you’re very good at it,” K'uk'ulkan replied with a cheeky grin as he opened the lunchbox. He pulled out two carefully made sandwiches and wasted no time taking a bite out of the first. “Tell Namora I appreciate this. It’s delicious.”
M'Baku lowered himself onto the bench beside him, watching as K'uk'ulkan ate. The room smelled faintly of chlorine and salt—a scent that might have annoyed him in any other context. Yet on K'uk'ulkan, it had the opposite effect. There was something about that blend of his natural essence with the lingering traces of the sea that drove him wild.
As K'uk'ulkan ate distractedly, M'Baku studied him in silence. The sharp line of his jaw, the glow of his still-damp skin, the way his lips moved as he chewed… Everything about him was magnetic. Before he realized it, M'Baku caught himself sighing like a lovestruck teenager.
"I was thinking about buying a new monofin," K'uk'ulkan said suddenly, breaking through M'Baku's thoughts. "I saw one I really liked."
"Another one?" M'Baku replied, raising an eyebrow in a mix of disbelief and mockery. "How many do you have now? Twenty?"
"Five. I have five," K'uk'ulkan corrected, rolling his eyes. "And this would make six, so stop exaggerating." Without hesitation, he balled up his napkin and threw it at M'Baku, who dodged it with a laugh.
"You can’t stop collecting those things, can you?" M'Baku teased, still chuckling. "Though I guess it doesn’t matter. The aquarium’s probably more than happy to pay for them."
"Maybe," K'uk'ulkan admitted with a shrug. "But this new one is expensive, even for them."
"Aren’t you the main attraction here?" M'Baku grinned smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tell me, how long can you hold your breath underwater? Twenty-five minutes, right?"
"Twenty-seven, actually," K'uk'ulkan corrected with pride, puffing out his chest.
"Exactly. You’re a phenomenon, K'uk'ulkan. They should be begging you to take whatever you want."
K'uk'ulkan let out a dramatic sigh, but his expression quickly shifted to something more mischievous. His dark, glimmering eyes took on a playful sparkle—the kind that always managed to disarm M'Baku completely.
"Luckily, I have a billionaire boyfriend who could buy me that monofin," he remarked with feigned innocence, tapping his chin as if he were seriously considering the idea.
"I'm not buying another mermaid tail. Six is overkill, even for you," M'Baku declared, crossing his arms with a raised eyebrow. His voice was firm, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of resignation, as though he already knew how this would end.
K'uk'ulkan, seated with all the patience in the world, smiled slyly. "Yaan k'iine' ma' tu páajtal in muk'yajtikech, ts'áa nib óolal tumen táan in yaabiltikech yéetel a jats'uts yich.," he murmured, his voice in Maya flowing like a gentle stream—soft, rich, and dripping with intent.
"English, please," M'Baku drawled, his tone teasing, though he couldn’t hide the slight tug at the corners of his mouth.
K'uk'ulkan let out a light chuckle, the kind that always unraveled him. "That I love you so much, I really need your help with this," he said, his timid smile morphing into something more genuine, more intimate.
M'Baku let out a deep sigh, turning his head as though searching for something on the opposite wall that might help him resist. But his mistake was glancing back at K'uk'ulkan. There his partner sat, his bronzed skin glowing under the harsh lights of the room, still glistening with water droplets clinging stubbornly to his face and chest. K'uk'ulkan's dark eyes watched him with that blend of devotion and mischief that always managed to shake M'Baku's resolve.
"Alright," M'Baku finally relented, letting his arms drop to his sides as though surrendering to an unbeatable foe. "But this better be the last mermaid tail," he added, attempting to sound stern, though his tone faltered at the end, giving way to resignation. He pulled out his wallet and handed over a credit card. "God help me, this is my fault. Who told me it was a good idea to date a merman?"
K'uk'ulkan's laugh filled the room—a free, contagious sound that chased away any regret M'Baku might have felt, dissolving it like smoke. In that moment, he realized he’d have bought not just the monofin, but the entire aquarium, just to ensure he could hear that laugh for the rest of his life.
K'uk'ulkan rose gracefully, moving toward him with quiet ease. He wrapped his arms around M'Baku, holding him tightly despite the size difference between them. There was something deeply tender and genuine in the way K'uk'ulkan clung to him. Taking M'Baku's face in his hands, his fingers traced the strong lines of his jaw with gentle precision. Then, with a softness that contrasted with his usual firmness, he leaned in to kiss him.
The kiss started slow, as though both were savoring the moment. But it quickly deepened, turning into something more passionate, more consuming. M'Baku held him by the waist, pulling him closer until their bodies fit together perfectly. Their tongues met in a dance that was both a struggle and a surrender, a shared exchange of need and intensity. K'uk'ulkan tasted of salt, sweetness, and something indefinable that was purely him—a flavor M'Baku couldn’t, and wouldn’t, resist.
The sound of a loudspeaker interrupted them. "The next mermaid show will begin in just a few minutes. Please take your seats." K'uk'ulkan pulled back slowly, his expression a mix of amusement and apology.
"That’s my cue. Break’s over," he said with a sigh, slipping out of M'Baku’s embrace.
M'Baku glanced down at the damp spots on his suit, left behind by K'uk'ulkan’s wet arms and torso. "Hey, you soaked my suit," he said with mock annoyance, shaking out his sleeves theatrically.
K'uk'ulkan paused at the door, turning to look at him over his shoulder, that charming smile still on his lips. "What can I say? You fell for a merman," he teased, his laughter echoing down the hallway as he disappeared.
M'Baku laughed too, shaking his head. He didn’t really mind being soaked. If anything, each drop felt like a mark of K'uk'ulkan’s love—a tangible reminder of their bond. After all, what else could he expect from someone so unique? He had fallen under the spell of a merman, and there wasn’t a single thing he’d change about it.