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I will never forget the look of absolute giddy joy on Aleks’ face when he saw the cases of Sonic Mango stacked up in the living room of my old house on the Mazarine Coast, the first stop on our travels. I gave him a few days of unlimited access to the caffeinated drinks, but after two days of hearing him complain about his racing heart and insomnia, I took over. He pouted, of course. He told me I was a fuddy duddy, whatever the hell that meant.

Now he gets one a day, and the whispered “Thank you, Daddy” makes me the happiest man alive.

I am, probably, the happiest man alive.

Our days on the Mazarine Coast with the merpeople ended when the bitter, late-summer storms blew in from the sea. Next up was a month in Soledad, where we beat the heat skinny-dipping in Aleks’ secret swimming hole and eating tostadas and chile con queso with Aleks’ brother, Damian.

It was clear from the moment Aleks ran up to his brother and playfully punched him in the shoulder how much the two men meant to each other. Damian’s good-natured ribbing and Aleks’ sharp sarcasm played off each other, and I spent hours sitting back and watching the two of them verbally sparring like there was only a finite amount of time and oxygen to be had.

Now, though, we are taking some much-needed time for ourselves.

After our flight landed in Yucatec’a, we made a quick stop at a market and then drove our rented car for three hours to this remote and wild section of the Caribe Coast. It is the perfect place: far enough away from any towns to prevent someone accidentally stumbling upon us, and only a half an hour from my abuela’s house farther inland.

“Can we swim now?”

Aleks has already pulled off his shirt, leaving his upper body bare and his sun tanned skin on display. My eyes trail over him. He is in a pair of cut-off jean shorts that show off the new tattoo on his thigh—a black-inked bust with barbed wire scars under the chest he got done in Soledad. Now that it is fully healed, I kiss it when I lay between his thighs. The scales on the side of his neck are even more vibrant against his sun-kissed skin. I know, when I look in the mirror, there will be tiny flecks of the same shade of green in my brown eyes.

“Have you brought your stuff in?” I ask.

“No, but—”

“And the food? It needs to go in the fridge.”

Aleks throws his hands up. “Daddy, please,” he protests. “Do you see the water? It’s perfect. It’s so clear and the waves are so gentle!”

I cross the room, crowding his body until my stomach presses against his. My hands come up to cradle his jaw, and I kiss him, slow and sweet.

I love you, I tell him with my body. Every day I wake up and you are here, with me. Drawing back, I shake my head at him. “I will put the things away,” I say, because I love this man and all I want is to see him happy. “Go, boy. Say hello to the water.”

He kisses the tip of my nose and takes off, running across the little back patio that opens onto the beach. Sand kicks up behind him, and I snort as he almost trips trying to get out of his shorts and briefs.

I watch him run naked into the sea. His transformation hits, legs fusing, scales covering his tail, ears elongating and fins erupting from his back. Diving into the oncoming waves, he disappears from view, and I hear the echoes of his familiar song.

It only takes me a few minutes to get our things put away and by the time I get to the beach, I am sticky with sweat and my inner thighs are chafing. Taking off my clothes, I fold them on the sand next to Aleks’ haphazard pile.

I walk down the gentle slope to where the waves slip up the wet, glistening sand. My toes sink down as water rushes up over my feet before the gentle pressure tugs, tugs, calls me out into the deep.

The wind is warm on my skin. The air feels like home.

I wade into the water, my breath catching in my chest as a wave splashes against my cock and balls. Dios, it always takes me a minute to adjust, and I dive forward, letting the saltwater catch me.

Waves rock my body and I roll onto my back, splaying my arms and legs wide. I let out a slow, contented breath, only to yelp when something cold and slippery wraps around my ankle.

“What the—” I force myself upright in the water, coming face to face with Aleks’ grinning face.

“Gotcha,” he says, and I recognize the feeling now as his tailfin slides up my calf.

I splash him, unable to keep my own smile from my face. “You are a menace,” I growl, but there is no heat in my voice.

“And you love me.” His long neck tilts to one side, and his green eyes glow in the fading light. “Do you regret any of it?”

It is shallow enough that my feet are firmly on the sandy bottom, and I take a few steps closer to him. When I extend my hand, he slides his webbed fingers over my palm. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” He looks out toward the open sea, a soft, contemplative frown on his face. “Sometimes I think about you, about how you heard me sing and your whole life was upended. You had to leave home, to leave your family and Yucatec’a. I see how you are here, Javi. You love this place.”

“I do,” I agree, because he’s right. I do love it here. Yucatec’a will always be my homeland. “The love I feel here is…maybe nostalgic is the right word. I am grateful to this place, and I know it will always greet me with warmth when I visit.”

A bird wheels overhead, and I watch it, wondering if it, too, was born on these shores, only to migrate away with the changing season.