Long Awaited

Xanadu Weyr - Craft Complex

CONTENT WARNING: Parts of this log have been edited, though some of the subject matter may still go above a PG-13 rating.

No matter the weather, no matter the season, the wheels of the craft just kept on spinning. It didn’t care about feeling of loss or turbulent emotions, there was only the work and it was good. M’ti had arrived in Xanadu early that morning, meeting with several senior Journeyman to receive his final project as an apprentice and to go over all the parameters and rules there of. By the time that their discussion concluded, it was well into the afternoon, and the greenrider’s head was still buzzing even after he’d slung the plans over his shoulder and headed back outside. The light shining down from above was glaring in comparison to the gloom of the workshop, making M’ti wince and pause just outside the main door before propelling himself forward once again. It wasn’t exactly a hop, skip, and a jump to where Cherith waited for him in the meadow and the crafting complex was enormous to boot. With a sigh, he prepares himself for the very long walk ahead, starting his feet down on just one of the many paths that would eventually return him to his lifemate.

There’s a lesson to be learned about visiting places of old — one never knows when the past will come back to haunt. Truth be told, it was not a planned outcome but more of a series of chaotic chances that, by some miracle, suspiciously aligned. Kihatsuth would be (and is) delighted by such weaving, though remise she had no talon stuck in this affair. No, it’s purely by chance that Ru’ien is in another part of the Craft complex and that his business concludes not long after M’ti’s. It is by chance, that he catches a familiar glimpse and acts upon it. Chance ends, when Ru’ien confirms that the one he is quietly tailing is, in fact, a very familiar young man. With a mischievous smirk to rival any that Kihatsuth ever implies, he will move in silently for the ‘kill’. Ghosting behind, then alongside, when the path allows and a few tandem strides until he breaks the spell of sneaking along. “… quarter mark for your thoughts, rider?” he muses, voice pitched just-so, between a bemused, low rumble and snickered breath. Even his expression hints at teasing-trickster, with a smugness likely oh-so fondly remembered. Blue eyes are narrowed but bright, mouth curved, while his hands are tucked and folded behind his back in a false air of innocence. Not much else has changed about him; he’s still the towering height, same frame with a build more wiry and lean from a change in livelihood, but overall? Ru’ien is still Ru’ien, weyrling or no.

Truth be told, M’ti was not paying attention, after all the Craft Complex was big and plenty busy. People were either strolling along or rushing towards their next destination, some in small groups or in twos, others still deeply engaged in conversations on a myriad of topics but all in passing. The greenrider doesn’t stop and listen, he’d tuned them all out, already planning his next few sevendays in which he would select a wood from those offered to him and after it’s delivery to his weyr would begin carving it with all the care that he possessed in the world. This is why he doesn’t notice a familiar face among the proverbial sea of strangers, or the fact that someone had fallen into step behind him, a gentle breeze cutting through with just enough strength to free the hair trapped behind his ear and send it falling into his face. It’s enough to snap him out of his thoughts, but it’s a distracted sort of thing, to such a degree that when Ru’ien does speak M’ti nearly jumps out of his skin. The startling effect is comical in every way possible as he clutches his chest and gasps sharply in surprise, stopping short. It’s followed up quickly by the snapping turn of his head, and then the immediate widening of hazel eyes. For what must seem like forever— is this stare— through which Matty clearly indicates that he doesn’t believe what he’s seeing, and forever still until he lets out a rough sounding, “Ru?” Two beats of a Harper’s drum is all it takes then before M’ti is dropping all he holds to the ground and throwing his arms as best he can around the much taller man’s neck and clinging to him desperately. Even if he has to literally dangle from there. “RU!” Fingers curl into hair and fabric alike, the greenrider taking a long deep proper inhale of Ru’ien’s scent, even as tears of absolute joy well up behind his scrunched lids.

“Hey!” Ru’ien exclaims in a way that is both laughter and grunt, as he absorbs that exuberant greeting. He wouldn’t be himself too, if he didn’t act further upon it. M’ti already firmly gripping him, it’s easy for him to slip his arms about the smaller frame and, playing upon the little momentum, enacts a little twirl and spin. Yet there’s no denying how tightly he embraces back, how genuine his delight is in the younger greenrider’s reaction. It was all and more he could ask for, without knowing why it mattered so. Greeting aside, he will steady them both, even as he leans back and puts a small amount of distance between them. Not to draw away, but more for him to angle his head for a rather thorough look over; his features are easy to read between the change of emotions. Oh, Ru’ien is definitely pleased to have run into him! The wry grin that broadens is almost unnecessary by the look in his eyes alone. “I’ve gotta say… I don’t think I’ve ever had a reaction quite like that.” he teases in the next breath, giving M’ti one last affectionate hug before taking a proper half step back. His last parting gesture will be to lift his hand to playfully ruffle his hair, unaware of any mixed signals that may cause. Clearly, some things never change! Turning his focus to the pathway and their surroundings, it should come as no surprise to M’ti at all that the suggestion to follow is nothing short of: “So… what’s bringing you to Xanadu? Business?” His eyes slide back to him, lips curving ever-so more with wicked suggestiveness. “Pleasure?” A heartbeat and he sighs laughter, sobering just enough in the next breath to make it obvious that this is serious — or at the very least, genuine. “If you’re not hurrying off, you… wanna go somewhere quiet?” Oh sure, he makes it worse with a wink but the offer still stands.

To say that M’ti is thrilled would be an understatement, letting out a sound that was happiness in its purest form, even if there was the softest of sobs along for the ride as he holds on all the tighter. It had little to do with the fact he’s picked up and swung around, that teary exclamation, though it does play a part in banging loose emotion he’d been trying to suppress for months. That he’s embraced back so firmly certainly has an impact, making soft murmured words on repeat to be muffled into the place where the greenrider had shoved his face into. Whatever he says, he means it, just as he does the expression on his face as Ru’ien sets him back down with that final hug to have a good look at him. The echoing affection that had been found in one another's arms was written all over his features, loosening a hand to wipe at his eyes, “That’s what you get for being away for so long,” he attempts to kid, definitely confused by the almost brotherly ruffle of his hair, given the sudden stiffening of his shoulders. It’s something he tries to dismiss, but really that’s all it took to awaken old fears and set his stomach to twist in on itself. Ah, if only Ru’ien had some idea that everything he said and did affected M’ti the way it does. At the reminder of where he is and what for, those hazel eyes blink once, “Oh shit!” Huh. That’s probably not the response that the weyrling was going for, having to bear witness to M’ti scrambling to pick up his bag and the tube he’d dropped. “Craft business,” he hastily replies, dusting this and that and breathing a sigh of relief when everything was more or less in the same condition it had been before being cast aside in such fervor. He’s in the process of this when curving lips and ‘pleasure’ is purred past them, tension finding his frame as he ever so slowly creaks his neck all the way back up to Ru’s face. One drumbeat, two, and with his jaw firming M’ti reaches out and grabs the weyrling’s hand, dragging him back towards the general direction of said the guest weyrs, “If you mean for sex, then yes. Absolutely. Right now.” Well, then.

“You’re just as bad, y’know, for staying away!” The counter is given with no heat and much bemusement from Ru’ien — even if he doesn’t grasp the whole reason why and merely contents himself with the surface excuse. No high emotions as a fresh weyrling, right? As M’ti goes to collect his hastily discarded items, he will breathe more laughter quietly. “Missed you too.” His delivery is meant to be in jest and it certainly begins that way, at least on his part. How does it strike for M’ti, though? Tearful reunion though it is for the younger greenrider, Ru’ien is the opposite, though delighted is unquestionable! His hand will be easy to take, despite the momentary blink of his eyes and the shocked look written all over his features. “Woah,” he exclaims, a slow blooming, face-splitting grin following. “… I was not expecting that but damn if I’m not on board!” His grip will latch firmly with M’ti’s hand, squeezing tight in reassurance and promise. So much hinted in just that span of seconds, in the smallest of gestures and sidelong, heated looks. “Alright,” he purrs, huskily, giving him one last once over of appraisal and approval. He’s already keen on this ’new’ side of M’ti! “Let’s go.” There will be no turning back now, unless explicitly told so, as once Ru’ien has made a decision, rarely does he hesitate or not see it through. Even when it comes to something so basic as sex. Tugging him along, Ru’ien will be “considerate” enough to wait until one of the lesser used (or at least, no traffic currently) residential paths weaving through the coastal woods. It’s then that he strikes again, by leaning in despite having to crouch down to hoarsely whisper. “… I am several months of touch starved. Just a heads up~” Its warning and foreshadowing both, followed by the lightest brush from his lips against the curve of his ear and neck as he withdraws. His hand will slip from M’ti’s then, only to promptly reach around and firmly caress his backside. No shame, no regrets. Just that smug, arrogant, attitude of his as he lengthens his stride and sets the lure. Not that it’s necessary at all but hey, Ru’ien is always up for a little game of chase! Luckily for both, they do not have far to go, whether they take it at a hurried walk or more of a frenzied jog. Once they are through the door of that vacant guest weyr and sanctuary attained, barely has the outside world been shut away that he’s upon him. Why bother waiting, when the closed door makes for ample anchoring surface? That’s where he’ll pin him down, hard and fast with a delicious, slow grind of his hips and firm lean of his body. Arms lifted and pressed to either side, both for support and to cage — yet welcoming M’ti to reach for him, to touch freely (and yes, he’s already quivering from that anticipation alone). Even in the natural light from the windows, his eyes are fever-bright with pent up lust and desire, which translates just as well in the deep, hard, slow burning, kiss that follows and is only broken by the mutual need to breathe.

Narrator Voice: And as they rose together to meet at the very height of passion, M'ti cried out repeatedly those three words he'd been holding back for so long, finally revealing his feelings for Ru'ien.

For a moment, he is deafened by his thundering heartbeat and the ragged sounds of his breath, as well as M’ti’s… but he will catch the repeated cry. “… what?” It’s breathed, a touch comically extended, on the cusp of one of his panted breaths, dumbfounded as his thoughts misfire, too lust-hazed to be running smoothly. Until they do and it lances through him like cold-fire, enough to have him freeze in place — never mind that he is still very much buried inside of M’ti and his full weight pinning the slimmer frame between his larger body and the door. Eyes, rounded now in shock, lift to meet his and hold, though they shift a little under the weight of his own rebooting thoughts. His lips part, but there are no words, just the continued sound of his heavy breathing and his skin is flushed dark from exertion; although perhaps there is more to it now, the blush of red staining the bridge of his nose and cheekbones and even the tips of his ears!

Whether it is his, or Ru’s, or a combination of both their voices that deafens him is beyond his comprehension, only that he remembers the huff of the weyrling’s breath and his panted words of encouragement until he throws his head back and the words just flow as his body shudders, teeth claiming his neck as Ru’ien does below. Distantly he is aware of the rough groans and grunt as he’s slammed that final time, that he cries out as he clings to him desperately. But then? “Wh-what?” he hears himself finally say, dazed hazel eyes finding themselves locked to blue, and he struggles to pull himself back from the sea of pleasure before he was really ready to because Ru’ien was looking at him like that and he had to let it go. A few blinks, a slight knot forming on his brow as he tries to think about what he’d said, and as realization hits he tenses. Considering the weyrling was right there and IN there, well, he’d feel him tightening down on him as his eyes widen and his already flushed face takes on that characteristic redfruity appearance, “Oh. Th-that…” Yes, THAT, Matty! With lungs not caring about what all else is going down, he has to pant to catch up on the oxygen he failed to take in before, though he does lower his gaze as he moistens his lips. No going back now that the feline was officially out of the bag, right? For about a second he does contemplate laughing or playing it off as something that’s happened purely in the heat of the moment, but instead he breathes out a soft, “I love you, Ru…been in love with you for a while…” Idly fingers pluck at the leather cord of the necklace he had shoved at him that day in the meadow before the hatching, “…was going to tell you that day…but…you were…busy…” He was rambling a bit, still breathing hard, but already he was bracing himself for what he naturally assumes is not going to be the best of reactions, “…and then the hatching…and then…”

It could have gone so poorly, but so far has not and remains in only an awkward tableau. Ru’ien doesn’t move, not by much, his gaze fixated on M’ti in that same shell shocked stare. No, there’s no going back and not even he can brush this off. If anything, the slip up is a blessing, because his guard is down and that small window of opportunity for him to manipulate the situation with his tactics of humour are gone. Even if he isn’t the one pinned against the door, he is well and truly cornered. “I — I…” Nope, he’s still broken! He swallows thickly, shallow, as his breath continues to rise and fall heavily, post-coital bliss rapidly burning out to be replaced by a new thrum, born of adrenaline and frazzled nerves. His brows furrow briefly, his gaze lowering only when M’ti tugs at that necklace and more words, more realizations strike home. Everything spoken is heard clearly, cuing up shards of memory to fit everything together. With a quiet scoff, Ru’ien’s expression twists as he pulls at his lower lip, struggling not to beam one of those false trickster-grins. It’s a losing battle, as shock gives way and his control slips. Lowering his head, his forehead will rest against his collar-bone and shoulder, hiding much of his expression. Shaky breath starts as a chuckle, gradually morphing to something closer to hushed laughter. “… love sick. You were love sick…” It’s not laughter directed to M’ti, but at himself and while despite the whole scenario, it comes off light, there’s a subtle edge that it’s more self deprecating than it is on the surface. “I guess she was right,” he exhales next, on the cusp of another hysterics-chuckle. “… I am such a bastard.” Whispered, almost under his breath, before he takes a steadying one and lifts his head. With that, his eyes find M’ti’s, still filled with a complex mix of emotions. Namely? Still shocked. “Why?” Now it’s Ru’ien’s turn to let something slip that wasn’t quite intentional, and while he visibly winces, he doesn’t try to backtrack from it. Instead, he wets his lower lip and just digs a worse and deeper hole. “I’m… not the kind of guy people are supposed to love, Matty.” The honesty is from his personal belief, spoken truthfully, regardless of how it sounds — truly, because he remains oblivious to that fact. And through all of this? He remains connected still to him, even amidst this storm, unwilling to let him go. His body knows, even if it will take a moment for his heart and mind to follow.

Awkward, didn’t even begin to cover what this was, but M’ti didn’t have any choice in the matter as timing had erased all other options. There was no way he could speak with Ru’ien staring at him like that, feeling the rush of heat to his face that told him he was blushing something fierce, and so he looks away and begins to say, things. Things that once they start dropping out of his mouth just keep coming until the weyrling starts stammering and their proximity allows him to fully experience the thickness of that swallow, then muttering of into relative silence. Well, aside from some more ill-timed panting. It doesn’t cover up that scoff though and hazel eyes lift, just catching the expression on Ru’ien’s face before he hides it and any others that may come to pass in the crook of his neck. It just seems a natural thing to do, to slide his fingers up the back of his neck and into the fine auburn hair to be found there, turning his head inwards and resting it against his. Nervous beyond measure as Ru’ien laughs and breathes like that, for a moment M’ti avoids looking him in the eye, however that question catches him off guard even if he should have seen it coming. His gaze darts to his, brows furrowed slightly, as if he could not comprehend what was being asked, “Why?” And with that he takes a deep breath, slowly letting it rather unevenly out, “You should be asking, how couldn’t I?” Gently shaking his head, M’ti leans back into the door so that he can apply the palm of his hand to the side of Ru’ien’s face, the pad of his thumb caressing over the height of his cheekbones, “You were the first person I’ve ever met who didn’t think I was weird. You listened and accepted everything I ever said to you, never once questioning its validity or laughing at me, and before I realize it I knew I could talk to you about anything.” A heavy sigh comes next, ashen lashes lowering, “Not to mention that you kept chasing me all over fucking Pern, and wrote me the most obsurd letters.” he adds in a deadpan tone before it softens and leans forward to press a kiss to the weyrling’s lips, “Ru, I’ve had more fun with you than I have in my entire life. Between this and all the pleasure I’ve experienced in and out of your bed, how could I not have fallen in love with you?”

Will it be a surprise, how readily Ru’ien tilts his head into the touch of M’ti’s hand? It doesn’t seem to register with him, how instinctual his reaction is to something so mundane as affection. Not the movement, or the way his eyes close and, for a fleeting moment, his features shift. The expression is a soft, vulnerable one, as though he’s not experienced something as loving as that gesture. “Well,” he breathes at last, eyes drifting slowly open and upturned to meet his gaze once more. His mouth quirks into a familiar styled smile, though the usual brightness is tempered. “… when you put it that way, I guess there’s no arguing it — and I’m all the bigger asshole and fool for not realizing sooner.” Oh, does that ever sound terrible, on further reflection but Ru’ien doesn’t even consider how it can be misunderstood; as he always does and always will, he speaks his mind first and deals with consequences later. Lifting his head up and away from his touch, he’ll begin to move at last and gently so in contrast to the roughness moments before. Separating draws a low sigh from him, but there’s no immediate step back under the echo of his poorly timed words. Instead he waits for M’ti to steady himself on his own feet, before leaning in to speak quietly by his ear. “Let’s clean up,” he suggests, all while one hand seeks his, threading their fingers together if permitted and squeezing firmly. Who is it that needs reassurance, at this point? “And continue this laying in bed. We… clearly need to talk.” Again, the poor wording, but Ru’ien means it — as much as it makes his skin crawl to have to address matters he prefers to avoid. Even if it means facing his own neglected feelings! As he moves to step further into his weyr, he’ll give a small tug on his hand. Perhaps too, his next words will put out some of the fires set by his too-honest and blunt ways. “I never took it off, y’know?” His free hand gestures to the necklace, and he turns his head to glance over his shoulder; just enough to glimpse a near shy smile. “I tried thanking you for it.” Only M’ti never responded, but Ru’ien doesn’t accuse him of being at fault. He will merely continue to drift through his living space, preferably with the younger greenrider in tow to find what is needed to clean themselves. It won’t be a drawn out affair or necessarily notable; just routine. It’s the comfort of something so plain and yet distracting that keeps him talking. He may not smile as much or joke, but he proves expressive in subtler ways too — and perhaps M’ti is glimpsing a side no one has seen yet. “… I’m still not sure if you loving me is a good thing,” he admits quietly, without a note of shame or regret. “I won’t stop you and, if I’m gonna continue being so damn honest, there’s mutual feelings. I’m just,” Stubborn? Oblivious? Scared? It’s probably all three, among so much more baggage but Ru’ien’s not opening that pandora’s box this time. “Not… great at realizing.” Ahh, there’s a scoff now, and a more easy going smirk. “As you’ve obviously noticed. You’d think I’d pick up on my own behaviours but no,” His tone is more playful now, as he mocks himself with a little more of his usual sarcastic enthusiasm. “No, I had to have it all spelled out for me and by my own lover!” With that aside, he’ll drop rather heavily to the side of his bed, feet braced firmly on the ground though he extends his hand in a ‘join me’ gesture to him. “No second thoughts?” Oh, there’s the teasing! Some sun, after the storm.

If it is a surprise to M’ti, it must be a happy one, a smile appearing ever so faintly on his lips and his expression softening by a notable degree. It’s all subconscious on his end, far too busy trying to convey what he was feeling and looking deep into those blue eyes to spare a thought that direction. Give him time though, he might be a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but eventually everything would catch up to him. It’s decidedly more that change in expression that strikes him, about to open his mouth to say something, when Ru’ien breathes out that ‘well’. There is a pause in which the greenrider lets him finish that thought before his brows lift minutely, “I wouldn’t say that,” he interjects in a quiet murmur, giving that cheekbone another slow pass with his thumb, “…it’s not like I said anything and you pretended not to hear.” That, would have been a dick move in his book. If there was more to read into that and misinterpret, clearly he’d dodged a bullet there. “I was…too scared to tell you when I first realized it myself, afraid of what you’d say. I have a bad habit of reading too much into things, as Alexa is so very fond of reminding me.” With Ru’ien lifting his head, Matty’s hand falls away to be returned with his arm back around him, making a soft hissing sound just under his breath with a single wince of discomfort to filter across his face. Very gingerly, thanks to vigorous activity in a position his body is quick to remind him was ill-advised, M’ti returns to his feet and settles himself back against the door to steady the wobble in his legs. “Mhmm,” he breathes out in the affirmative to soft words expelled against his ear, and all too easily interdigitates his fingers with his just as he is to return that reassuring squeeze. Hey, they both probably needed it at this point, freaking out internally for one reason or another. As for what Ru’ien says next, well, that there is some very mixed messages ’“Okay,” he says very quietly, his nerves cropping back up again despite himself, allowing himself to be tugged forward to trail after the weyrling. The ability to read minds, sadly wasn’t gifted to him either, and so of course his imagination runs wild with what he believes Ru’ien wants to say. So lost is he in the gloom and doom of his inner thoughts that he nearly misses hearing a rather significant fact, “What?” The lip he was chewing on slips free from beneath his teeth and he looks up and over, brows lifting as their eyes meet for all of moment, “You didn’t?” FWOOOSH! Yes, welcome back blush old friend, he hadn’t missed you even remotely as much as he did the man that seemed to be able to induce that state with disturbing ease, “I’m sorry…” he says next and the apology is genuine, the note of regret for his past behavior ringing true. “…I was angry and jealous when I had no right to be.” After all, he hadn’t even told Ru’ien how he’d felt about him, how on Pern was he supposed to know that being huddled in the dark seclusion of place with someone was the sort of thing that would set the greenrider off. Getting clean goes off without a hitch with M’ti being awfully quiet and not as subtle as he thinks he is as he steals long lingering looks of the weyrling when he thinks he isn’t looking. Whatever there is to see is seen, beyond a shadow of a doubt, and whatever he learns or observes is most certain— at the very least— filed away for later. “Ah,” he says softly with a single nod before he can stop himself, feeling the sorts of feelings about that statement that certainly conflict with soft words, held hands and offers to lay together in bed. After all, M’ti had spent plenty enough time with Ru’ien to understand that he really was a good man, perhaps this was his version of letting someone down easy? He didn’t know, but what comes next out of the weyrling’s mouth most definitely catches him by surprise, “Wait, what?” Matty is the one staring now and really is it that far fetched that he got mentally and emotionally snagged on that precious little tidbit of admittance? As if to make matters worse, Ru’ien has to go and throw in statements like “my own lover” to really give the greenrider’s head a spin. What. Was. Happening? It’s not like he needs to do any thinking to take that offered hand, but what he does is seem to see it as an opportunity to sit on the man’s lap rather that plunk himself down onto the bed beside him. Instantly arms are wrapped around Ru’s neck as he scoots forward and snuggles in for a much needed and long time anticipated embrace. Ear to ear, chest to chest, and clearly M’ti left his shame back there in his pants, “No,” he says without hesitation, “No second thoughts.” And with that, he gives him a squeeze. “None at all…” At last, M’ti had found his happy place.

“You can’t tell me there weren’t signs or hints, though?” Ru’ien counters with a small, crooked smirk, not relenting so easily on the fault being his as well! His eyes will follow M’ti as he moves towards him and there is only a pleased chuckle when shame is left well behind. Sitting in his lap? NO complaints from him! He merely adjusts his legs to better support his weight, while his arms slip around his sides. Hands will rest long his back, fingers curling ever so lightly anytime they drift towards the curve of his lower back. It’s a gentle, almost tender caress, albeit idle in nature. Ru’ien’s expression is still very much obvious with it’s dazed appearance, brows furrowed more often in thought then smoothed. “Good.” he breathes, to the reassurance that no regrets have surfaced — yet. His eyes grow heavy, as he leans his head in to nuzzle into his neck; the kisses that follow are slow, lingering ones, placed to his skin. Once again, more tender and, yes, hesitantly loving. He’s been ‘gentle’ before but this? This is new. Like dipping a foot cautiously into water, Ru’ien is taking his first in exploring a small piece of M’ti under this new revelation. And the verdict? He really likes the way it feels, even if he cannot even begin to parse the effect it’s having on him! Oh, but all good things have a catch, don’t they? And Ru’ien, despite his carefree attitude and blatant positivity and joie de vivre… has his own fears and anxieties. Which is why, as he lightly trails his teeth along the curve of M’ti’s jawline, he sighs as if conflicted with himself. “… you mentioned earlier feeling angry because you saw me with someone?” He was listening, even if his recounting wasn’t spot on. “You… you know the kind of person I am, right? Always teasing, joking around…” To put it lightly. “I don’t — I don’t think ahead much. I don’t want to, y’know? So I always go with the flow of the mood. Sometimes, people joke along and others flirt. I flirt back. Because that’s all it is? And some kiss and sometimes I kiss back — I have kissed someone. Not the same as you and I, just now…” He leans back, head tilted slightly as he cups M’ti’s cheek and takes his turn to rub the pad of his thumb over his cheek bone and then down to his lower lip. His eyes are narrow in thought, but distantly admiring even in his inward reflecting; oddly bright despite the troubled edge to his expression. “But I have only slept with you since we met. You… I don’t know how I didn’t see it before?” his last words are nearly a sigh, tinged well with regret. Which is short lived, as he moves on. “And you’re certain, knowing this, that you could love me?”

“Well, um…” M’ti considers aloud, looking away with a simple roll of his shoulders, his voice trailing off briefly, “I wasn’t exactly….discreet…once I figured it out myself, no.” There had been plenty to pick up on had Ru’ien been paying attention, regardless of the lack of directness in which the greenrider had expressed his feelings. That chuckling aside, he makes himself most comfortable in the man’s lap, shivering every once in a while as goosebumps rise to the surface for the wandering splay of fingers drifting along his back. By Faranth though, if being wrapped in those strong and familiar arms didn’t relay to him a sense of absolute safety, as if finally coming home after a long and arduous journey. Unhurriedly, M’ti combs his fingers through that auburn hair, releasing a soft breathy sound as Ru’ien moves in closer and bestows those soft intermittent pressing of lips. The change in how being touched by the weyrling felt now comparable to then, was undeniable, and it has its effect as well but on an entirely emotional level. Feelings swell, chest growing tight, and his face prickles with heat before tears sting his eyes, soon blinking them away. Fuck, he loved this man. Loved him so much that even as he goes on to say the things that he does, knowing deep down the truth of it, he slowly nods and scrunches his handfuls of dark red waves, “Yes,” comes in a breathy exhale, ashen lashes lowering, turning his head to give that mouth and the teeth it contains unfettered access to jaw and neck, and then somehow softer still after some delay as all that he says truly sinks in, “I kissed someone too…” There’s guilt clearly suffused throughout his tone, “It was nice, but when it came down to it, it wasn’t you…” He’d felt nothing, not like when he kissed Ru’ien anyway, not by six Queens’ lengths. This confession made, the rest brings an unwelcomed pang of the very same jealousy he’d felt that day, picturing the weyrling flirting and being flirted with, holed up somewhere kissing them. Noting the shift of weight, M’ti leans back a little himself, meeting those beautiful blue eyes with his muddy hazel and the love to be found in them despite everything just said was undeniable. The intimacy to be found in the simplistic gesture Matty’s given, the very one he turns his face into and makes his breath stutter, brings forth such emotion that it blurs his vision until spilling over with the very next blink, taking in every word that’s spoken, “There’s been no one but you…” Flights don’t count, you see, at least not in his book. It was all becoming too much with that mutual omission, all that was coursing through him building an aching head and thus needing escape somewhere, somehow. This is why Ru’ien barely gets out that sigh and question before M’ti is pulling his head down as he leans up for a kiss. It wasn’t a passionate exchange, but it was deep and thorough, as if the greenrider was searching for his answers in there, “Yes,” he breathes out unevenly, drawing back only so much as he needed so that their gazes could meet, “I love you, Ru…I don’t think anything is ever going to change that for as long as I live…” And even then, he would love him; that was an undeniable fact. “…but it’ll take some…adjustment.” Which was putting it lightly, “Do you think you could love me, even when I’m being a jealous idiot?”

“Did you?” Ru’ien’s voice has dropped to a sudden husky, bemused purr, not an ounce of jealousy within. His eyes glance upwards and sidelong, no doubt in hopes of glimpsing the change in expressions he so covets. Clearly, he’s not wholly unlike Kihatsuth in the end! “Was he good, at least? Even if it wasn’t me?” Oh, he teases so slyly, a hint of a wickedly curved smirk following. He’ll anticipate a good smack to his shoulder or even to the face for his humor, but it doesn’t have him taking the comment back. No, he just keeps his gaze focused on him, while his hands roam over his frame in gradual, intimate, caresses. “Mhm,” he hums, seemingly pleased and all the more amused by the confession that no other has ‘claimed’ M’ti’s attention — not that Ru’ien would’ve judged or held it against him! He’ll lean in to accept the kiss, returning it with as much depth and thoroughness, more emotion bound than raw lust and passion. Under that confession and the verbal sort, Ru’ien will look visibly reassured, as he smiles a warm, lazy smile. “We’ll see, won’t we?” he says, not intentionally grim but merely stating what is an accepted truth to him. He’s seen what loves does to people, how it changes them; good and bad (mostly bad). It’s left him eerily optimistic yet pessimistic in the same breath — coupled with the fact he never looks too far ahead in life, he can remain purposely ignorant to his own anxieties. Laughing throatily, quietly, he’ll nip playfully at his jawline and chin, while slowly drawing him more firmly in his lap. “Yeah,” he muses breathily, cocky and smug as ever as he grins. “I think I can manage.” Will he, though? It’ll remain to be seen if he even clues in half the time!

Alas, poor M’ti, not quite to the point in which he’s wise to everything that is Ru’ien. As anticipated, guilt washes over the greenrider’s expression and he averts his gaze as he nods once in confirmation. Oh yes, there was kissing, and really the tone of voice that his companion chooses to use at this time was more than a little confusing. A flush blossoms over his cheeks as he squirms enough to be noticable, brows furrowing, even as his shoulders stiffen to some degree. It was only because he wasn’t looking at Ru’ien that there is conflict to be as honest as he knew he should be, an inner battle that scatters to the four winds once hazel eyes dart back to meet their bright blue counterparts. With a blink upon seeing all that smirk and smug, M’ti doesn’t appear to know what to make of it before the light proverbially dawns and he scowls ever so faintly while giving the handful of auburn hair he’s suddenly got a firm tug, “He wasn’t you…” is all he says in return, unwilling to admit it had in fact been quite the kiss. Those work-roughened hands wandering over his body weren’t helping retain whatever conflicting feelings Matty was having, finding the unease draining out of him as he leans in, only to have it vanish entirely as their lips meet. There is the added bonus of erasing any other questions that the Weyrling’s hum might have raised, saying nothing as their kiss breaks and Ru’ien says what he does about the unforeseeable future of them. Although, ashen lashes do lower almost entirely even as his forehead comes to rest against his and his arms tighten as if he planned to never let go. It’s as much of a promise that his feelings would never change as he can manage, given that he was most unfortunately tuning in to the reality of those words. M’ti didn’t want to even imagine a time in which he was alone and without Ru’ien again, for even as he is mused over and chortled against, shivering beneath the lips and teeth that make half his body rife with gooseflesh, “I’ll hold you to that,” he breathes out before inhaling sharply as he’s drawn forward via the hands firmly planted on his rump, unable to keep himself from rolling his hips up against Ru’ien, letting out a soft breathy sound of nothing less than pleasure, “And I hope you don’t have plans for the rest of the day…” he says in airy exhale, curling his fingers tightly into all that dark reddish brown hair and drawing Ru’s head back by it, “…or the next…” comes with the tease of his lips over his, just a brush of tongue chasing it. After all, weyrling-ing requires walking straight, right? For now, Matty was going to set aside any and all nagging reservations and worries that might have risen due to his lover’s— whose were perhaps not so clearly spoken as they were strongly suggested by their conversation. It had not escaped him that what he was being given here was a chance to prove that what they had was the start of something real that might last a lifetime, a prospect that was as daunting as it was exciting, and there was no way in hell M’ti was going to pass that up; no matter the obstacles in their way.

Ru'ien quirks a brow and the effect only heightens the devilish look set on his features. "Wasn't me, huh? Mhm, you do have it bad, don't you? Not even a small, flickering, moment of enjoyment?" he teases again, roguish smirk firmly in place all through it. What's the aim? To have Matty squirm? Perhaps he's trying to see if guilt does manifest? Who knows. He could be purely unaware of the ripple effect his probing could cause. The intimacy of their foreheads touching is welcomed and relaxed, his eyes drifting closed for the duration of the spell that is cast. For all his chaotic tendencies, Ru'ien lives as much for moments like these — even if he's not aware of it, this time. Someday, the pieces will come together and at a much needed time; perhaps when he screws up and needs a solid reality check to make him SEE what he can lose. As Matty takes the lead, he is all too happy to hand over the reins for the moment, chuckling low and husky as fingers thread into his hair. Chasing that brush of a kiss with a playful nip, his eyes fixate, heavily lidded, on him. Hungrily, desiring and oh-so intrigued by the suggestiveness. "I've got my duties. Weyrlinghood takes no vacation, remember? But… I am free tonight and much of the morning. Are you suggesting you wish to stay?" Two can play the teasing game and Ru is doing his best to keep his gestures minimal, though a subtle tensing to his body suggests he's close to taking control. "… Do you have something in mind?" It's all but purred seductively, lips drawing up in a wicked curved grin. He has an idea what the answer will be, and that much is written all over his features. Right now, he has ALL he could ever ask for — and so much more. How could he resist a night of offered pleasures? Of course he will readily agree! And Matty will NOT be disappointed, or left unsatisfied.

That lofting eyebrow brings an instant flush to the greenrider’s cheeks and he can’t help but avert his gaze, squirming minutely in the embarrassment he’d discovered the focus on his omission had inspired, and just like that guilt flitters over his features not long after. While he doesn’t reward Ru’s playful prodding entirely with a verbal response, M’ti wasn’t even remotely skilled in hiding what he was feeling or thinking, everything written on his face as easily read as a little’s storybook. Yes, he did have it bad for Ru’ien, but that kiss he’d shared with someone else? It looks as if there hadn’t been anything wrong with it at all, save for the fact it hadn’t been with the man whose lap Matty was currently occupying. That moment of pause in which they just were, foreheads touched and eyes closed, was thus a welcome reprise and gives the greenrider the opportunity to at least start sorting out his thoughts on the matter. Ru’ien didn’t seem upset with him over his indiscretion, which was a relief, and he does his best not to fall too much further down the rabbit hole there. Instead, he grasps onto the words he hasn’t had the time to fully process yet, that the weyrling did have reciprocal feelings for him. Yes, he had said that, even if not in the perfect crystal clear clarity he himself had expressed so inadvertently. Did he really need to hear those three words exactly? Perhaps not now, but… Before M’ti has the opportunity to delve too deeply in that direction, Ru’ien is chuckling, and the sound triggers a cascading response in him; most of it pleasant as he shivers and tightens the security of his hold on him with a breathy catch when teeth press into his lower lip. Ashen lashes part, hazel eyes latching onto bright blue, and there is nothing less than a perfect echo of sentiment to be found within them, “Ah, of course.” Disappointment next, breathed out as muscles loosen moderately, his gaze dropped. Now that everything was out in the open, surely Matty’s unspoken feelings of the past were that much more obvious if Ru’ien stopped to think about it, that ‘but’ bringing his eyes back up with an undeniable flicker of hope. One that explodes a second after Ru’s teasing inquiry into a supernova of happiness, bringing a glossy eyed smile that could have leveled half the planet as he nods crisply and kisses him quite firmly with a laugh. How could he have missed signs as blatant as these? Then, drawing back a little, Matty spares a hand to wipe at the emotion that'd snuck out of him, “How about dinner and no sleeping at all?” he offers, half crying and half laughing, and none of it born of upset.

"Sounds like my idea of a perfect night!" Ru'ien is quick on the draw to agree to M'ti's offer, sealing it with laughter of his own, while wordlessly wiping away a few of those tears from the younger greenrider's cheeks. Leaning forwards, he will press his much larger frame purposely against his, hands firmly caressing over hips and legs — both to tease and to keep them both balanced. His head lifts, tilting to whisper hoarsely by his ear, breathy with shameless lust and need. "… let's have some more fun, first? Dinner can wait." Ru'ien grins the smuggest, fox-like, grin possible and should no objections come forth, he will make good on his promise. but here is a different note to this session. He will ravage M'ti, until they are both utterly spent and satisfied, but it is a gruelling slow pace that he sets. Deep, thorough and intense in far more extensive way; it's not ground that Ru'ien is overly familiar with but he does not hesitate in dipping into those waters. He'll pull M'ti down along with him, as he explores those layers, tentatively, into more emotional realms beyond purely physical. The words Matty may be waiting to hear do not spill from his lips, but his voice carries the right edged tone, as he does not hold back in calling his name. Even as their second reunion comes to a gradual, hotly burning end, Ru'ien does not relent entirely in touching him in some way — not even when they take a break to eat, to rest and talk. If this is what Matty sought, he will NOT be disappointed in that regard. He keeps to his promises too and the night will be eventful and endless, with one small moment of sleep shared entwined in each other's arms. Short lived, as Ru'ien wakes before dawn and, knowing time is precious and limited, will gladly resume the night's celebrations with renewed vigor. At this rate? They'll both be hobbling out of that guest weyr come proper morning!

Add a New Comment
Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 License