Devilfish Annotated Read-Along · Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Declan kissed Elliot until his resistance melted into lustful desperation. He pulled back far enough to see Elliot’s face and smiled at him.
“Can we shift position a little bit, El? You’re crushing my legs here.”
Elliot slid off Declan’s lap and floated on his back in the middle of the pool. With the tentacles spread out under the clear water, flashing pink and red, Declan could finally see the whole of Elliot’s new form.End Notes · 1An octopus doesn’t just change color, it changes color in waves—rippling bands of pigment that travel down the length of an arm. Here’s something that I didn’t actually learn until after I wrote this book: In 2015, researchers at UC Santa Barbara demonstrated that octopus skin contains the same light-detecting machinery as octopus eyes—rhodopsin and the associated phototransduction genes—and that a patch of skin removed from the animal entirely will still expand its chromatophores in response to light. The skin sees. Not metaphorically. So while Declan is looking at Elliot in the sunlight and Elliot has his eyes squeezed shut against it, Elliot's new skin is, in some limited and completely real sense, looking back.All end notes → “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Show me, Elliot, I want to see all of you.”
Elliot blushed and tipped his face up, closing his eyes against the sun. He didn’t stop Declan from looking at him, though, and Declan started at the bronze column of Elliot’s throat, his pulse jumping in the small hollow there. His broad shoulders, flexing as Elliot’s arms moved just under the water’s surface, keeping his chest afloat. His chest was the same, sleekly muscled, his nipples sharp points poking just above the waterline. His torso still tapered down to a slim waist, a drop of water sparkling in the shallow cup of his navel. The pale skin over his firm abs darkened to a reddish brown and spread into five thickly muscled new limbs that shifted and writhed around Declan’s human legs. A sixth appendage, shorter than the others, peeked in and out between the front pair of tentacles.
Declan ignored this version of Elliot’s cock for the moment and ran his hands over the velvety softness of each tentacle from the firm width at Elliot’s waist down to each delicate, slim tip. The smooth texture changed under his stroking hand, prickling into tiny ridges and whorls the color of new red bricks, like the goosebumps Elliot got sometimes when Declan stroked his human skin.
When he reached the tip of one tentacle, he gently turned it over and ran his fingertips along the two rows of white suction cups marching up the pale pink underside.End Notes · 2The giant Pacific octopus, the species I had in the back of my mind for all of this, does have two rows of suckers per arm. Each arm has approximately 280 suckers, so roughly 2,240 on the whole animal. Elliot has six limbs, so do the math and appreciate what Declan has volunteered for. 🐙
Each sucker has two parts: the infundibulum, the grooved outer disc that makes the seal, and the acetabulum, the chamber behind it that does the pulling. The muscles lower the pressure inside, and the seal holds without the octopus having to keep spending energy on it. Each one is independently controlled, and the big ones near the base can hold something like thirty-five pounds on their own. I want to stress that I researched all of this for entirely legitimate structural reasons and then I wrote this scene.All end notes → The suckers were rubbery and firm, the tiny cups at the tip cool even in the hot spring but warmer as he trailed them up closer to Elliot’s center. He pressed a fingertip into the middle of one sucker and inhaled sharply when the cup tightened against his finger, like a warm, sucking mouth.
Elliot shivered, and Declan saw his skin shift and prickle in waves up each tentacle to the thick web of flesh where they all met just below his navel. Declan glanced up, and Elliot was looking down his body at Declan, a slightly drunk look on his face. “You’re so beautiful like this,” Declan told him.
Elliot blushed again but didn’t look away from him this time. Declan stretched his legs out, planted his feet wide apart on the rocks lining the bottom of the pool, and slid both hands up the underside of two tentacles. Elliot swished his arms under water enough to float closer, and Declan brushed the backs of his hands along the underside where the tentacles met until his fingers met around Elliot’s cock.
With Elliot straddled over Declan’s lap like this, Declan’s own cock leaped to attention, nudging against the firm, webbed skin. Declan explored all the secret spots under Elliot’s web with one hand while he slowly jacked Elliot’s cock with the other. Elliot arched his back, still floating on the surface of the pool, arms stretched wide, mouth open and eyes closed. His tentacles spread wide too, wrapping around Declan’s back and legs, pulling himself closer and opening more for him.
Elliot’s cock filled in Declan’s hand, and a slick wetness, entirely separate from the water they were floating in, coated Declan’s hand when he brushed his palm over the blunt tip.End Notes · 3Water is a terrible lubricant. It thins out anything you'd want to use and washes it away, which is why sex in a bathtub is a good deal less appealing in practice than in theory. I had written myself into a scene that takes place entirely in a tide pool, and I needed a solution that wasn't "and then they got out and went inside," because getting out and going inside would have wrecked everything Declan is trying to do in this chapter.
So I gave the octopians their own lubricant. Did I borrow that idea from the omegaverse? Yes. Yes, I did.All end notes → Declan brushed his hand over the tip again to gather more of that slick and rubbed it along the shaft of Elliot’s cock. That would make things easier, since the oil Declan had brought was in the pocket of his coat, on some dry rock above him.End Notes · 4Declan came down to this cove to have a difficult conversation and he brought oil, which tells you something about the man's approach to planning.All end notes →
He wasn’t sure how close to low tide it was by now, but Elliot was writhing in his lap, flexing his tentacles around Declan and thrusting his cock into Declan’s hand. The sounds he was making were making Declan hotter too, all rough moans and bitten-off curses. It was probably close enough to the right time.End Notes · 5Go back and read the first sentence of Chapter 23. Declan and Nance are in the library at three in the morning, heads together over a stack of books and papers, and Elliot walks straight past them and up to bed without asking a single question about what they're doing.
This is what they were doing. Declan spent the night working out the rules of what's happening to Elliot, which is why he arrives at this cove already knowing about the tide, and why he can say it's time with confidence while Elliot has no idea what he's talking about. Elliot never asks. He's too busy being a tragedy. Declan investigating on his own and then quietly steering the outcome without explaining himself is the single most consistent thing he does in this book, and it started back in Chapter 14 with the almanacs.All end notes →
He pulled the hand that had been exploring under Elliot’s web free, trailing his fingertips against the suckers on the underside of the tentacle closest to Elliot’s cock. Elliot whined in protest, and Declan shushed him as he slid that hand from Elliot’s navel up his chest. He crooked his fingers in a “come here” gesture. Elliot grabbed his hand with both his own, and Declan tugged Elliot until they were chest to chest. Elliot wrapped his arms around Declan’s shoulders, and Declan slid his arm around Elliot’s waist.
“It’s time, Elliot,” he whispered, still stroking Elliot’s cock and loving the feel of it sliding wetly against his own.
“Time?” Elliot asked dazedly. He thrust into Declan’s fist, and Declan groaned at the feel of another spurt of slick fluid from the tip of his cock. “Declan,” Elliot moaned, his hot breath tickling Declan’s ear. “I need, please, Declan, need you, need so much…”
“I know, Ellie,” Declan groaned, stroking Elliot’s cock faster. “You know what to do, Elliot, take what you need from me.” He was pretty sure Elliot’s brain hadn’t made the connections he needed it to, but figured Elliot’s new instincts would take over when the time was right.
He was right. Elliot thrust once more into Declan’s hand, then pulled back just enough to worm two tentacles under Declan’s legs. Declan lifted his ass enough so Elliot’s cock slid under his balls and nudged against his hole. Declan leaned his shoulders back against a smooth rock on the edge of the pool and pushed his hips forward and up, wrapping his legs around Elliot’s waist.
The tip slipped in easily. Declan had done what he could to get himself ready before coming to find Elliot. Even so, the hot burn as Elliot shoved farther into him was almost too much for Declan to take. He put a hand on Elliot’s chest and pushed against him a little. Elliot hovered above him, water dripping from his hair onto Declan’s chest, and some of the dazed look in his eyes cleared.
“Don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, even as two tentacles squeezed tighter around Declan’s legs.
“I know,” Declan said. He ran his hand up Elliot’s sweating chest and rubbed his thumb against his lower lip. “I’m fine, just need a minute, that’s all.” He took a couple of deep breaths, willing his body to relax as much as possible with Elliot stretching him open and filling him up. Elliot squeezed his eyes closed and clenched his jaw, and Declan knew he was fighting his instincts, trying to be still and give Declan time to adjust.
Declan pulled his knees closer to his chest, and the change in angle made all the difference. He groaned as Elliot’s cock brushed against the spot inside that made stars burst behind his eyes. Elliot groaned too, a hot wet moan that fired up every want Declan had ever had and made him want to do anything, absolutely anything, to make Elliot make that sound again.
Declan hooked an arm around Elliot’s neck and pulled Elliot closer, tucking his face into the join at Elliot’s neck and shoulder. Elliot planted his elbows on either side of Declan’s shoulders and pushed into him for what felt like forever. Declan hitched his legs higher around Elliot’s waist, his calves and the insides of his thighs gliding over Elliot’s wet, velvety skin. Elliot pulled back fractionally and thrust back in.
Elliot’s cock swelled inside him, stretching him, and twisted, brushing against that spot again and again, until Declan was breathless with the bright-hot feeling. Instead of pumping in and out, Elliot pulsed within him, expanding and contracting, twisting and writhing. Elliot’s other tentacles flexed and squeezed against Declan’s thighs and hips in the same undulating motion, like the relentless waves crashing against the rocks at the ocean’s edge.End Notes · 6An octopus arm is a muscular hydrostat—the same structural principle as an elephant's trunk or your own tongue. It has no bone and no fluid-filled cavity to push against; it works by staying a constant volume and rearranging its muscle. Squeeze it narrower and it lengthens. Contract the long fibers and it shortens. Fire the oblique ones and it twists. It can do all of that at any point along its length, in any direction, without needing anything rigid to lever against.
Which means that if I wrote Elliot doing the ordinary in-and-out, I'd be wasting him. Human sex is built around a skeleton and hinges. Elliot doesn't have either anymore—at least, not down there—and once I understood what a hydrostat actually does, the scene rewrote itself: he doesn't stroke, he undulates, and everything else he's got wrapped around Declan does the same thing at the same time.All end notes →
Declan’s own cock was squeezed between them, the soft give of the velvet web below Elliot’s navel surrounding it and lying heavy against Declan’s hips. Declan rocked his hips up slightly to slide his cock along that slippery skin. The friction was so good, it loosened something Declan had been holding tight since Elliot first entered him. Elliot’s cock expanded again, and Declan shut his eyes, let himself be opened and cradled and filled. He wrapped his other arm around Elliot’s lower back and rubbed his cock up and down against Elliot in time with the steady pace at which Elliot was fucking him, until he felt Elliot push impossibly farther in, go still for a moment, then shudder in the circle of Declan’s arms as he pulsed hotly inside him. Declan thrust up against Elliot’s body once, twice more and groaned as the world went white and yellow behind his closed eyes.
When Declan came back to himself, Elliot was lying heavy on top of him, his forehead resting on Declan’s chest. He was breathing hard, but his tentacles had relaxed their grip on Declan’s legs. Declan pushed a little and Elliot rolled off him, sprawling all his limbs in the water and resting his head against the edge of the pool. Declan stretched his legs out in front of them, wiggling his toes to get the feeling back in them. He rolled slightly to face Elliot, draping an elbow on the boulder behind him and resting his chin on his forearm.
Elliot looked even more debauched than Declan felt. His hair was a disheveled mess of wet spikes, and his cheeks were still flushed pink. A bite mark at the spot where his neck and shoulder met was blooming into a dark bruise. Declan vaguely recalled setting his teeth there when Elliot first flexed inside him and stretched his hole more than he’d thought possible.
Elliot’s arms were splayed across the rocks, looking as boneless as his lower limbs. Declan picked one of his hands up, kissed the center of the palm and the inside of his wrist, then let it drop back in the water. Elliot rolled his head against the rock and looked at Declan. His eyes were heavy-lidded but clear, and the strain at the corners of his eyes was gone. He looked more peaceful than Declan had seen him in months.
Declan traced a fingertip under the water at the line where Elliot’s human skin changed into the reddish brown of his octopus skin. “Try it now,” he said softly, still enjoying how the soft smoothness above Elliot’s navel shifted to the wet velvet below it. He’d loved the feel of that slippery skin against his cock. Still, they needed to get back to the house before someone came looking for them and caught sight of Elliot like this.
“Try what?” Elliot asked, his voice low and wrecked.
“Shifting back. It should work now.”
Elliot pushed himself upright, losing some of the happy relaxation in his expression. Water sloshed over the boulder Declan was leaning against, splashing all over his face. Sputtering, Declan sat upright too.
Elliot’s mouth was opening and closing, as if he had so many questions, he didn’t know what to ask first. Declan thumbed a few drops of water off his cheekbone and cupped Elliot’s jaw briefly.
“What’s the tide doing now?” he asked.
Elliot’s eyes flicked to the open ocean and his gaze unfocused, like he was listening to something only he could hear.End Notes · 7Elliot knows what the tide is doing without looking at it, and I based that on other marine animals that run on a circatidal clock—an internal rhythm of roughly twelve hours and twenty-five minutes, matching the interval between tides. It's been documented in crustaceans, molluscs, an acoel worm, even a mangrove cricket, and the crucial finding is that it's endogenous: take the animal into a laboratory with no waves, no pressure changes, no moonlight, nothing, and it keeps tidal time anyway. The clock is inside it.
So Elliot isn't reading the water. He's checking the time.All end notes →
“It’s turned,” he said. “It’s past the lowest point and is now coming in.”
Declan nodded. “And you’ve gotten off,” he said, flicking his eyes from Elliot’s face to his lap and back, “gotten what you needed at the low tide point. You should be able to shift back now.”End Notes · 8I wanted the shifting to run on rules a nineteenth-century person could actually work out with a pencil, a tide table, and a nautical almanac—no incantations, no mystic bargains, nothing that requires believing in anything. I’d already put in all the supermoon research into the book, the moon greatly impacts the tides on planet Earth, and a body that answers to the tide is only a slight exaggeration of animals that genuinely do. Tying it to Elliot’s…ahem…release as well was the other half: Elliot has spent the entire book trying to control everything through sheer clenched will, and the rule of his new form is that it lets go when he does. He's been doing the exact opposite of what works since…forever.All end notes →
Elliot looked stunned. “Is that how it works? How do you even know that?”
Declan shrugged. “Give it a try.” When Elliot just looked at him, blushing a little, Declan smiled and stood up. “I’ll just get out and get dressed.”
He kept his back to the pool as he picked his way over to where he’d left his clothes. The sun was high overhead but the air was cooler than the water and he shivered a little as he toweled off and dressed, resisting the temptation to watch Elliot shift back.End Notes · 9Declan spends this entire chapter asking to look at Elliot—show me, let me see, I want to see all of you—and then, at the one moment he knows Elliot would find it unbearable to watch, he turns around and studies his own bootlaces.All end notes → After a few moments, Elliot said in a low voice, “You can turn around now.”
He looked smaller, more like the boy Declan used to comfort after his nightmares, hunched into himself and shivering even in the warm water.End Notes · 10I put this here on purpose, and it's meant to catch slightly in the throat. These two grew up in the same house. Declan was the older stepbrother who’s bed Elliot crawled in at two in the morning, and there is a version of this story where that history makes what's happening between them impossible to write. I decided it does the opposite. Declan has seen Elliot frightened and small before, has seen it repeatedly, and has never once thought less of him for it. That's precisely why Elliot can survive being seen in this cove. The groundwork was laid years before the book started.All end notes → Declan knew they’d have to talk about it eventually, but for now, he could help Elliot keep a bit of dignity. “Where did you leave your clothes?” he asked. A little practicality now, that was the trick.
“Up there,” Elliot gestured at the rock ledge above his head. Declan fetched Elliot’s clothes and propped himself up against a tall dry boulder while Elliot dressed himself.
“Can I see your legs?” Elliot asked, head down as he buttoned his trousers.
Declan sighed. The last thing they needed was more of Elliot’s guilt eating away at him. But maybe if he saw that Declan was fine, he’d be able to let it go sooner. Silently, Declan unbuttoned his trousers and slipped them down to his knees.
Elliot crouched before him, tracing the red circular welts with furrowed eyes. “Go on,” Declan said with a small smile. “Touch them. I’m not that breakable, Elliot.”
Elliot ran his fingertips lightly over Declan’s legs. Declan shivered and Elliot pulled back sharply, his eyes lifting to look miserably up at Declan. “I’m fine,” Declan said gently. “Just tickled, is all.”
Elliot smiled tentatively back and put both hands on Declan’s legs, sweeping up the outside of his thighs. When he reached Declan’s hips, Declan was hard again, his cock straining toward Elliot’s mouth, right in front of him.End Notes · 11And there's the loop closed. Back in Chapter 23, Elliot stood on a rocky beach looking at red starfish on the rocks and could only see the welts he'd left on Declan's legs—evidence of damage, proof of what he was. Two chapters later he's crouched in front of those same marks with permission to touch them, and the thing they turn out to be evidence of is that Declan wants him.All end notes →
“You see?” Declan said. “I still want you.”
Elliot’s mouth curved up in that wicked smile Declan had missed seeing on his face. He put his tongue out and licked the tip of Declan’s cock.
“We should get back,” Declan groaned, but he didn’t stop Elliot from taking him fully into his mouth and sucking him until he spent a second time, fists clenched in Elliot’s wet hair.End Notes · 12Declan Fitzgerald: sound tactical judgment, poor follow-through. In his defense, that's the first time in weeks that Elliot has smiled at him like that.All end notes →
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