Piece following Symbiotic. This can be read without reading the other first but I still recommend checking it out even after this. Trust me, you won't regret it.

This was written by way of inspiration from an IYOTP (imagine your OTP) tumblr prompt given on September 24, 2013. Polarshipping. Drabblish. Prose poetry as is my style.

Okay so it's not really drabblish but that's how it started out...

A symbiont is one of the participants in symbiosis. We have two here.

Enjoy.

. : Symbionts : .

"What about these?"

Too round.

The response came in the form of red-hued lips twisting into a frown,

"Those are for women. Ugh. No. I don't want them."

A little clack.

The scuffling crunch of sand underfoot, the grains having been tracked in by countless guests before the two of them.

He was taking his time, spinning racks like the carousels they were. Tall carousels with a basic supply for adult faces.

Pink. Blue. Orange. Black.

Mostly black.

The latter was what he grabbed and pressed up in front of his eyes.

"Whataya' think of these?"

His statement was accompanied by the flex of his arms.

Hers kept crossed under her chest however: the unquestionable sign of a woman running thin on patience.

But he was oblivious. Or stupidly ignoring it.

Yes. The latter probably.

She'd be oblivious herself once he made a decision and let them finally leave this overpriced tourist trap.

Oblivious to passersby, that was.

And she kind of liked the way he'd started sticking out an arm for her to take every time they started walking. That was how they looked before happening onto this place in all it's god-awful faux bamboo and neon art across the walls.

One moment she was leaning on his arm and the next – she nearly fell after he'd jerked out of her hold and darted off the boardwalk to the shop.

Like a kid and a toy store.

But then, kids didn't have nice broad shoulders which were just perfect for leaning your head against. But... the sleeves of a tee shirt covered now. Maybe if he hadn't decided to pull it back on then she'd be a bit more willing to wait...

"Ya' ain't even lookin'!"

"Yes I was. Those are fine."

Well maybe not. Were they a bit big..? She reached to push the sunglasses up...

His nose.

There they were across the bridge, spilling out under the corners of his eyes. It must have been the long hours out in the sun in recent days...

"You have freckles."

With the last word, something like a smile curled one corner of her lips.

"What?!"

An exclamation characteristic of him as was the animated snatching off of the sunglasses and stalking steps up to a bamboo-framed mirror.

He reached, poking at the faint spots as if doing so would make them go away. A brow furrowed with concentration was enough to draw her over.

Her reflection materialized adjacent to his for only a moment before she batted his hand away and turned his face to her own, the mirror left alone.

"Ah man. I gotta get rid of 'em."

He was frowning.

"Why?"

Her smile faded as confusion drew in.

"Ya' don't..."

A hand raised, reaching for the blond strands lying along the back of his neck.

"Ya' don't like 'em so..."

Faint red rose to his face, making the little dots all the more noticeable and, well –

"Cute."

The freckles. His reaction. All of it.

She'd never made him blush with just one word before.

Until now, she never knew she wanted to.

It was almost silly. They had been about as carnal as one could with another yet he was blushing about spots. Little spots she then extended a hand toward, nail drawing an invisible line from one to another. Once. Then once more. Like connect the dots.

And she was laughing about it. Not the loudest of outbursts but still a mirthful one she hid needlessly half behind the hand which then left his face.

Apparently that wasn't good. The blush vanished.

From a furrow, his brows shot up under the thick strands nearly hanging before his eyes, then they lowered again. His jaw set. He was the tough guy he tried to look like for so many years.

"You're makin' fun of me."

But her eyes were tuned enough to his. Brown irises flecked with sage around the centre. There was a waver, the tiniest of wavers only knowing eyes would see.

And she had seen.

Her hands dropped to her hips, fingers mostly along skin. The lower half of her bathing suit was but a section of plum hues wrapped around her.

Why did he take everything personally lately?

"I said they were cute. How is that making fun?"

"Because!"

A declaration that didn't even being to explain any more than his attitude did.

"Because of what?"

She wasn't yelling but it was loud all the same, to match him.

"Because you were laughing at me!"

"All the antics I've seen and laughed at over the years and now you're upset?"

"It was different back then!"

What was different?

"What are you talking about?"

And this was a yell. One loud enough to make the shopkeeper skitter back through the door into the storeroom.

"That was back before we - "

He threw his gaze aside from her.

Unsettling. Something descended overhead.

Her lips came together in a flat line that made him sigh and ruffle up his own hair. Like it would help him think.

But the words still weren't making sense as he tried to go on,

"Before we..."

"Before you found me?"

Still didn't fit.

"Nah not that."

It was a long moment before he spoke but she knew it was best not to rush him.

"Before we started dating."

And there it was...

And it still didn't make sense.

Laughter and dating. Didn't the two go nicely together? They sounded nice together, she thought.

"Joey what does that have to do with –"

"Shut up, a'right?"

All she could do was stand there and blink and look at his hands that'd curled into fists. Then make him watch as one brow quirked up over her eyes.

You better start talking. Fast.

"Just – Just lemme say this."

She was waiting like before, nails back to drumming. But she let him speak.

"Things are different now between us right? The things you do... I..."

Then she understood. He was being stupid. Making this such a big deal. She had worried for a moment! And here all he was doing was trying to admit he'd been taking everything too personally after their relationship had changed.

It had changed. But at the same time, it hadn't.

"Don't make it complicated, Joseph. We're still friends aren't we?"

"Best friends."

Her arms unfolded as she aimed a finger at his chest. He pretended to wince but the spreading grin gave him away.

"And don't you forget it!"

"Ah, Mai. I won't forget."

And it was the opposite of that dark night. Her face in his hands.

"I'm always here for ya'. No mater what."

The atmosphere softened. Dissolved.

She glanced around the shop to see the keeper had returned. The man offered a sheepish smile she returned with a little one of her own.

"Best friends with benefits right?"

Amethyst flicked into place, locking back onto russet brown.

The grin was nearly gone, a last bit reduced to a curve playing at one corner of his mouth. A small, knowing smile. Knowing because he'd suddenly figured out what he wanted. Knowing because she'd want it too.

He had this new way of smashing her thoughts to pieces with this single look.

The vanishing expression. The way his eyes would slide over her face. Fondly. Then settle on her lips. And after this, she wouldn't move. But then, she didn't have to.

A step brought him to her. His hands tilted her face up to his. Just a little, he wasn't all that much taller. And she sort of liked how the difference was obvious when she didn't wear heels. Because she didn't need them as much. Didn't need to try to look like she stood head and shoulders above so many others, she knew it was true. Finally.

Finally.

Finally, he brought their lips together. The same word in mind on that rainy night. The same spark. Electric where they touched. Where his tongue pressed inquisitively at the line of her lips. And she let him in.

How could she refuse when he was always so kind about it..?

When the kindness was a prelude for a kind of opposite...

The world fell to ruins all around and it didn't even matter. All she needed was this. His tongue against the little grooves of her mouth. This was good. He was good. A good kisser...

And the number of men she'd kissed was higher than she would've liked to admit.

There could have been a memory. From when so and so or whatever his name was kissed her but there were none. She remembered his first kiss on her lips. Raindrops on her face. Their slow stagger into the house and down the hallway...

Warm fingers gripping on her hips, pulling her up against him. Like she hadn't already had that idea. Like her hands weren't also wandering up. Twisting into the salt-water-dried strands of his hair. He smelled like the ocean. Waves. He'd dragged her in farther but kept hold of her.

He'd always been her anchor.

The one to pull her back from the edge. A new edge. The latest edge. For years she'd gone wandering to them like there were sirens below, united in the prettiest chorus only she could hear.

For the last time, she had gone off the edge. Driven her motorcycle off the side.

Lived. With both hands up, nails digging into the ground.

She'd gained the strength to keep herself from falling but not enough to pull herself up. The sirens gathered under, professing their song with more volume than ever.

Then he'd been there. Pulled her up. Grinning like always as he put his hands over her ears and kept them there until she didn't hear the song anymore...

All she could hear was his voice. His breath. His soft murmur just after her own. Quiet exultations for everything that was right. Right in the world. Right for them.

Right that she could feel the straight lines of his body.

Fingers digging into the soft curve of her hips. Warm like the sparks gathered within her. Lighting into a more solid flame. Flickering near his. Closer. But not yet joined, instead growing side by side.

Separate.

Their lips separated, yet them, still together. Still, his mouth on her skin. Lips dotting quick kisses. A twisting trail down her neck. Shivers incited. All the way out to the fingers then tugging at his hair.

A silent demand for what he's already planned, if his slowing trail down her chest was any indication...

"Ahem."

The world. Objects. Colours.

All came spinning back in within a second's time.

They broke apart like couple of kids caught loitering behind the school, red faced and purposely avoiding the eyes of their discoverer.

In this case, the shopkeeper.

"Sorry." A breathless apology from one blonde, then one followed from the other.

The planks of the boardwalk creaked in places.

The words were chiding but the smirk bled in,

"You know you shouldn't have done that."

"Hey, he gave me the sunglasses f' free. Think that's a fair trade for the show."

He was still grinning even after she smacked his shoulder.

"Did you even bother to thank him?"

"Yeah I thanked him! Whataya' take me for?"

He stuck out an arm and she took it, and listened as he went on talking.

"Remind me to thank what's his name for the vacation."

A soft laugh.

"I think you should be thanking Ishizu."

Someone really did deserve some gratitude.

Waking up to watch the morning light glow and break. Sparkling on the surface of the ocean. She'd smile and smile... And smile some more when she felt an arm wrap around her.

And by the time she'd see the ocean again, it was from under lazily fluttering lashes, that bright sphere of light hanging high over the horizon.

She was more grateful than a certain Egyptian might ever know.

"Fine, we'll mail 'em a postcard or something. To Moneybags..."

He'd stopped before he'd gotten started, just to make sure she was already giggling at the notion of what he had to say before he went on.

Written for this IYOTP prompt:

"Imagine Person A of your OTP playing connect the dots with Person B's freckles"

Hopefully I didn't lose anyone with the sirens metaphor. In any case, I really like how this turned out. If you did too, please review. Anon comments are welcomed as well.

May expand on this if you guys like it... So speak up?