“As long as it includes something chocolate and a coffee, I’m in,” Cameron said, tilting his head to lean against Emory’s.Emory raised his free hand to caress Cameron’s hair. Even when wet, it was still a poof around his head.
It only took Emory a few swipes and clicks to place their order, and Cameron wondered if it was a frequent order for him. Cameron couldn’t really judge, since he usually subsisted on cereal and coffee.
With the order placed, Emory flicked back to his work email, and his shoulders stiffened. This man truly was a workaholic, and while Cameron understood the sentiment, he’d gotten the sense from Christopher and Ronan the previous night that it wasn’t a good thing. It wasn’t a particularly good thing for Cameron, either. If he had anything else in his life, he would gladly work less. Sadly, he didn’t… Or at least, he hadn’t before meeting Emory.
Now, he had this man, who, based on how high his shoulders were rising, was quickly slipping into work anxiety when they were supposed to be spending the morning together. Cameron squeezed Emory’s shoulders, going for comfort but perhaps squeezing a little harder than necessary. Emory dropped his phone on the table, glancing up at Cameron with wide eyes.
“Cameron, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Do you…” Emory cleared his throat. “Work out?”
Cameron laughed in surprise, releasing Emory’s shoulders, and Emory turned around in his chair to look up at him. “I just meant that you seem to be incredibly strong. Do you think it’s because of being an octopus?”
Cameron caught Emory’s wince before he could hide it. He was probably afraid his innocent question would elicit a similar response as the night before. This time, though, Cameron was focused on his fated mate, not on the past he could do nothing about.
“I’m not sure. Again, I don’t really know any other octopuses, but you’re not the first one to ask me that. As a kid, I used toclimb on my parents' backs, and they’d wear me like a backpack. Even as a kid, I was strong enough to hold on by myself, so they could just go about their day. They’ve gotten older now, so I don’t really do it anymore, but sometimes I’ll do it to Shay just to annoy her or when I’m feeling particularly lazy.”
Emory’s smile was warm and a little sleepy. “I love envisioning that. A little Cameron riding around on your family’s backs.”
Cameron took a seat across from him. “My parents grumbled about it more as I got older, but I’m pretty sure they miss it.”
Emory’s phone buzzed, and he turned it face down. “Your parents sound lovely. How do they feel about you finding your fated mate?”
“Oh, they’re thrilled. Seahorses are very culturally romantic, and personality-wise, my parents are quite codependent.”
Emory smiled a bit wistfully. “I can’t wait to meet them.”
Oops. His parents weren’t very traditional, but there were a few aspects of seahorse culture they stuck to. “Actually…in seahorse tradition, my parents asked if we could wait to meet until after we’ve mated.”
Emory’s eyebrows shot up. “Afterwe’ve mated? But…what if they don’t like me?”
This was one part of seahorse shifter culture Cameron loved. Some of the rules they had around mating were arduous, but this one made sense to Cameron.
“So, for seahorses, mating is almost exclusively between fated mates, and no one—not family, friends, or even village elders, if you live in a village like in the Indo-Pacific or some coastal areas of the Atlantic—can get in the way of that. Traditionally, when seahorse shifters turn twenty-one, they go to a huge beach party where they try to meet as many other seahorse shifters as possible, to see if one of them is their fated mate. Think speed-dating but aquatic and times a thousand.
“If they find their fated mate, they rent separate hotel rooms and spend a few weeks going on dates and getting to know each other during the days and developing their mating dances separately at night. At the end of the event, they go into the ocean to shift and do their mating dances for each other. That night, it’s tradition for them to mate and share a bed for the first time. Sometime in the month after, it’s expected that they go visit their in-laws and, at least in the Before Times, the hope would be that the omega would be pregnant. Obviously, nowadays, fated mates can be between any configuration of primary and secondary genders, and lots of couples choose to adopt, use surrogacy, wait, or not have children at all, so there’s less emphasis on the pregnancy aspect. If the omega is pregnant, though, there’s usually a huge party, and then begins the whole process of eggs and brood pouches and… Well, I won’t bore you with all of that.”
Emory looked almost awestruck. “That’s…incredible. They definitely didn’t teach us all that in school. I just remember the mating dances being tailored for their specific mate.”
Cameron nodded and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “Yeah, it’s a lot, and as a non-seahorse shifter, I wouldn’t participate in any of the mating ceremony, but my parents have always wanted Shay and me to make our own decisions about our mates, and to introduce them after we’ve mated.”
Emory stared down at the spotless tabletop. Cameron hadn’t noticed when he first walked into the kitchen, but Emory must have cleaned this morning. “That’s all really interesting, actually. I love learning about other cultures and traditions. Do, uh…your parents expect us to come home pregnant?”
Cameron had known this question would come up, but he’d hoped he would have more time, and maybe a little food and caffeine in his system before they had to hash this out. “No, they don’t. They just want me and Shay to live happy lives,whether that involves adopting kids...or not having kids.” He very specifically left out the option Emory had asked about. He desperately wanted Emory to offer his opinion on the matter first before Cameron said anything else. “What about in lion culture?”
Emory shifted his jaw back and forth. “For lions, it’s important for the parents to meet the fated matebeforethey mate. There are some traditions around it, as well as the actual mating, and the wish is definitely for cubs.”
For the first time in Emory’s presence, his octopus shrank back. Where had that reticence been this whole time? Cameron had known this was a possibility all along, but his octopus had wanted them to dive in headfirst.
Well. Here they were. Diving in headfirst.
Cameron tried to keep his face neutral as he asked, “And…your family? Do they follow that tradition?”
Emory laughed harshly, and Cameron’s hands clenched the fabric of his borrowed sweatpants. “Do my mother and overbearing aunts want me to have cubs and continue the family line?”
It didn’t really sound like a question Emory wanted Cameron to answer. More like a question he expected Cameron to know the answer to…and to bend to. Before he could stop himself, he was out of his chair and backing towards the hallway.
Emory spun around in his chair, concern etched into every crevice in his face. “Cameron?”
“I…need to use the bathroom,” he said before darting down the hall.
