Taking a Detour (Warning: Mature Content)

Xanadu Weyr - Beach
The unerring range of subdued white rises and falls in a multitude of sandy dunes, creating an endless amount of tiny valleys constantly demolished and rebuilt by the frequent arrival or departure of a dragon. Smoothing out as it slopes gently to the edge of the deep blue water, the sand darkens and a shell here and there stands out for children to collect. The beach itself is set along a low cliff - the height lessening as one heads eastwards, blocking a portion of the beach from direct access.
The wide wide stretch of water opens up to the east, the far distant shore way beyond the horizon and the beach curves ever so slowly round to east and west, distant arms of land embracing the wind-ruffled Caspian Lake. East leads up to the mouth of the Rubicon River, where the protecting cliff is merely an arms length higher then the sand, and beyond that, a winding road leading out of Xanadu's territory. Westwards, the beach narrows as the cliff swings out, leaving a path wide enough for dragons in single file before cutting in to the sheltered cove designated the Weyrling Beach. However, cut in the cliff face to the north are a variety of rough, wide staircases, providing access to the clearing and to the meadow.

Continued from Formal Attire Is Required
Warning: Mature Content

Ka'el totally knows where he'd like to put her back leg. He grins. Then snickers. But he doesn't share why he's snickering because they're still in the etiquette classroom and SUCH THINGS are not appropriate! But that doesn't keep him from being very amused by his own thoughts as Sori takes his arm and the two of them follow the others out. Down, down, dooown to the beach! And to the weyrling beach area. Buuut no, he doesn't want to go that way. That way is back to rules and strictness and things they cannot do and notes and studying and all things … unfree. He starts to slow. Maybe no one will notice if they hang back a little. And veer off a bit, away from weyrling territory. "I didn't eat the oyster," he stagewhispers over to Soriana. "Y'think I failed? I think I passed. I passed the stealth Not Eatin' Crap Food test."

Soriana raises an eyebrow at Ka'el's (very dignified) snickering, but… she doesn't ask. Not in out loud words, anyhow. Down to the beach they go, and… well, it's getting dark, and it's not like anyone's paying that much attention to what they're doing, so as Ka'el starts to tug her to the side, not only does Soriana let him, but nobody else seems to notice. At least not so much as to actually comment on it or anything. Close enough! She keeps her arm in Ka'el's, now that it's there - not that the position is exactly a usual one - and at his admission… she laughs. "It wasn't that bad," she says in mostly quiet tones (how many practice toasts did they have?) "I mean… It was slimy and sort of salty, but I swallowed."

Just how many indeed? Enough to humor Darsce, likely, for the girl always seems to know exactly what she's doing. Not that anyone heard any complaints from Ka'el or anyone else for that matter. Sure, it wasn't ale, buuuuut beggars can't be choosers! And how many ever glasses of wine he had, it's enough for him to find humor in the most mundane things and innocent phrases. And so, as they leave behind their weyrlingmates and head down on sands less traveled, his grin only grows and eventually it bursts into a laugh. "You did? You do? That means you swallow? You swallow.." Definitely tipsy Ka'el. He leans towards her as they walk, his touch playful as he presses his weight against her side. With this nearness, it's easy to detect a different, subtle scent lingering about him other than his usual .. Boy. Why, is someone wearing cologne? Well … it did say 'formal', and what's more formal than a bit of fragrance that he apparently owns?

What? Soriana blinks as Ka'el begins to take her words in… ways. First her mouth opens. Then, it closes into a smirk, and she reaches over to punch his arm… not that she lets go of him in order to do it. She's got two arms. She can do both at once. She's multi-talented like that. "So. Not. What. I. Meant," she informs him… and then her smirks widens. "Also? Maybe." As Ka'el leans in, she leans back against him, because… it's a cold night, you see, and he's warm. Her nose twitches. Sniff. "…huh." Boy smell funny! Like… uh… fancystuff.

Owpunch! Ok, so it didn't really hurt, but that doesn't stop Ka'el from over exaggerating at all. First, he winces and sucks in a seething breath between his teeth. Then, he lifts his free hand to give his poor, abused arm a few deep rubs. Then, for good measure, he winces again. "Ah!…" and makes a pained face. Poor, poor Ka'el. And that is the end of Act One. His grin is back in an instant, but then, for a second, he finds himself out of words at her 'maybe' answer. Double blink. "..You…I…a-….really?" He's never sounded so eager! Or flabbergasted. Footfalls pause now, and he turns his body enough to face her. "Huh what?"

"Yeah. Maybe." Really, truly, maybe. It is, definitively, a possibility that can be neither ruled out nor confirmed… yet. Soriana turns herself toward Ka'el, like she's joined at the arm (oh, wait, she is) and is just rotating around a pivot-point set there. She grins, looking him over. Definitely hot. Also warm. That's why she was leaning in, right? Because he's warm. …and also hot. "You're wearing stuff." She pauses a moment, and isn't it lucky that the dragons are back at the barracks sleeping? That's why this class got scheduled when it did, after all. It's also why there's no questions from Luraoth, just a vague warm glow. Or is that from the wine? Either way. "Like… cologne or something. Since when do you have cologne?"

He's wearing cologne. And, "You're wearing a dress.." says Ka'el with a loose sort of grin. "Like … I've never seen you in a dress before. I've known ya for … turns. Seventeen….fourteen, when…." He talks himself through the math, because that's the only logical thing to do when one is trying to subtract fourteen from seventeen. "Three turns? Three, an' I've not once seen ya wearin' nothin' like this. Like.. I can see your legs," he notes, as if sharing a secret she might not have been aware of. Granted, he can also see her legs when she's wearing shorts. Or a swimsuit. But this is different. This is a dress! Ill-fitting maybe, but he's not noticing that. "An' you look gooood in a dress." So very good, and his hand moves around her to finger at the laced backing, trailing slower along the skin than fabric. "I've always had cologne, but I don' wear it much. Y'don't like it? They said girls like it." They. The faceless people who know things.

"I don't like dresses," Soriana says, and makes a face briefly. "But I told you I had one." And, to judge from the fit, this might be the very same one from the first time she said that to him. The grin returns as he compliments it, and her hand reaches in, brushing along his hip and the upper edge of black dress slacks. "Well, don't get too used to it," she replies as she leans closer. "It's not going to stay." Sniff. She takes in another breath of Ka'el plus cologne. "It's different," she determines. "Not bad. Just… different."

"I like you in dresses, but I think I'd like you in dresses more when I take those dresses off." That made total sense in his mind. Whether it does now that it's been spoken aloud… is up to interpretation. His eyes shift from hers to lower between them, past her chest an stomach, following the touch of her hand with a quirked smirk. "Maybe you'll wear'm for special times?" he asks hopefully, eyes back on hers, not specifying what those 'special times' may be. Turndays? Turnover? .. Oh, dances? His grin remains coy, and it's only now that he realizes the humming in his mind is silent. Kanekith? Asleep. Not dead to the world, but slumbering as he often does at night only to wake at some random time with some random request or question. For a moment, he looks lost, unused to such wakefulness when his lifemate is not. Under a blink, he focuses himself, and his arms close tighter around her, drawing her against him. "I wish y'could read my mind."

That's a nice dress, he'd like to see it around her ankles? Soriana laughs, leaning in closer. "Maybe I will," she agrees. Like formal dinners and official meetings… meh. Let's stick with Ka'el's turnday. "But maybe I'll make you help pick the ones that look best." Her arms slip around him as he draws her closer, and as their bodies press together, she tilts her head up to his, lips beginning to adjust themselves from a grin to… wait, what? She blinks. "Why?" she asks, nonverbal uses for her mouth put on hold… though her hands don't want to wait, the fingers of one trailing along his spine as the other one walks up Ka'el's arm toward the shoulder with slow touches.

Hmmm, a Sori model? Modeling dresses for him to choose? .. Ha, she /must/ be tipsy of she's agreeing to do that, but Ka'el snags the opportunity and nods. "Uh huh. I think I like the short ones. So like, we could.. probably start with those right? The ones that go up to…" One of his hands snakes down her, not leaving her body for an instant as it makes a deliberately slow journey down her back, following her spine, down to the curvature of her backside from which it is drawn around to the side of her thigh and down to the hem of her dress, which is already short due to its size. "Here?" Fingertips can be felt on her skin as he cinches the hem up a half inch more. A full inch. He leans forward, lips hovering above hers as her hand makes its way up his arm. "Cuz," he says, voice quiet, "I wanna show you all th'things I wanna do to you while he ain't lookin'."

Well, the alternative is that Soriana has to depend on her own fashion sense. Which… may have been kicked out of her brain to make room for all those names of bones of the wing. She's not sure, but she definitely hasn't heard from it in a while. "Yeah, I think we could start there," she says with a grin, her hips shifting slowly as his fingers near her rear - as if to press back against the touch, but oh, detour! - and then forward again, pressing her hips to his as her hands continue up around him. Well, the one on his arm continues up, anyhow. The other one decides it's gone up far enough and starts back down his back again as her hemline heads up, and up, and at no point in the lifting of it does she protest. "Oh," she says to his explanation, and lifts her head up, just a little - just enough to brush her lips to those ones so close nearby. "If I could… would we have the time?" Because if he's got as many as she does… even mindreading is only so fast!

The graze of her fingers against his shirt leaves behind a tingling feel upon the skin that resides beneath. A shock of attraction that zips through the body and tingles the extremities of fingers and toes. A sudden spike of excitement that nudges the link of a sleeping dragon. Ka'el wills him to stay asleep. Please, sleep. Slumber and allow him just this moment that his somewhat fuzzy mind does not seem intent on stopping despite how deeply they're treading in dangerous waters. His usual caution seems to have fallen sleep along with Kanekith. The touch of lips sends another shock, and at her hem his fingers press, grasping momentarily at her flesh before slipping beneath the fabric of that too-short dress and continuing up her thigh's side. The slide of his hand bunches the dress at his wrist, carelessly exposing more and more of her skin til another hem is reached. His lips curve gently. "No," he admits with a slow shake of his head. "Hours an' hours. Days.." The temptation of her lips is too great for him to resist, and the short distance between his and hers is gone in the second it takes for him to swoop down and kiss her, eyes closing.

Up Soriana's dress slides, until it's as daring as Darsce's slit skirt - no, until it's more daring still, her leg exposed to the darkness of the beach… but more significantly, more importantly, exposed to Ka'el's fingers. Luraoth still sleeps, though at this point Soriana's not entirely sure which part of the warm feeling comes from the dragon and which comes from herself. She's not drunk. She's only barely tipsy… but it's just enough to tip the balance, to help want-but-shouldn't turn into just-a-little, and from there into just-a-little-more. A half inch of the skirt being lifted, and another, and then Ka'el's fingers have found another hem, a different fabric. Maybe it's not the wine at all. Maybe it's the cologne… or the kiss. Actually, the kiss is seeming like a pretty good contender, because she exhales in a soft moan as Ka'el kisses her again, her lips pressing back to his as her hand lifts up to brush along the back of his neck and comb fingers up through his hair. The other one slides down over his back, brushing the shirt until it encounters pants and then, undeterred, sliding down beneath the waistband.

These are different waters that he's daring to navigate now. Swimming without a life vest in places he has no place being. His roaming hand pauses where it is, fingers touching the edges of undergarments unseen and lingering there. Hesitant? Yes. No… Maybe? Or maybe his attention is unevenly divided now that he has found her mouth. A kiss he has sought for months. Not a brief peck. Not a few seconds' worth before sense and responsibility got in the way. No. This is an honest to goodness, mind numbing kiss that has the tempo of his heart picking up a little and the temperature of his body rising. Turned on. Thoughts don't do this justice. Memories can't live up to the real thing and Ka'el is losing himself within the kiss as his lips part and his tongue reunites with its long lost partner. The press of his hips to hers can no longer be considered a press. He grinds, holding on to her tightly with his one arm as his growing arousal is made known to her with an answered groan and the insistent pressing of something else against her. And when her hand slips beneath the hem of his dress pants, his hesitance melt and those fingers of his hidden hand grasp and tug, out at first, then down. Though with the pressure of his body to hers, her underwear isn't going anywhere..but it's obvious just where he wants them to go. And all this lust is coursing through him rapidly, a fire in his veins. And even a dragon as peacefully sleeping as Kanekith can't disregard for overly long the heat that disturbs his dreams. Strange thoughts and feelings and words he's never heard echoing through his waking mind. The shadow stirs, unfocused. Startled.

Maybe. It's a question, an uncertainty… an unknown, until the moment arrives. Until… this. Until Soriana's lips, pressed to Ka'el's. Until his tongue, finding hers to flirt and play. Until the turn of her head that deepens the kiss, because there's deep and deeper and maybe even deepest, but right now she's not sure if that one exists. She knows she hasn't found it yet, and she knows she wants to keep looking. Oh, she wants to keep looking. Her fingers want to keep looking, too, though it's her stomach that actually finds. Her body is pressed too close to his to permit her hand to do the finding, but she doesn't want to move away. Complex thought is hard right now. Problem-solving and taking a step back to assess the situation… she could do it. She doesn't want to. So… she doesn't, and her hips grind against Ka'el's, pushing hard and harder both. Her underwear aren't going much of anywhere, though they get rumpled. Actually taking them off would require her to take a step back. Maybe if she did that, she'd think about what she's doing. She'd think about the dragons, asleep at the barracks. Well. They were asleep. Luraoth is half-asleep still, but her dreams are changing - and they're slipping past the confines of her own head, starting to broadcast themselves in a blur of emotions and vague images. The distant, dreamy warmth is growing closer as the gold dragon is swept up in her rider's emotions, in the excitement and passion of them. It's a feeling like a sunrise, like the triumph of the sun as it comes over the horizon; like the glory of the lavender and rose sky and the anticipation of the dawn. A cock stands against the horizon, with proud crest and curved tailfeathers. Any moment now, he'll crow.

The roused form, shapeless and dark, has jagged edges. Spiked and uneven, representative of the confusion that dominates. Something is .. off. Bad? Not entirely. In fact, everything felt and unwillingly shared from distant rider to waking dragon is undeniably good and very strong. But it is strange and alien, and the strength of it is beginning to borderline overwhelming as it swells and swells with no seen limit. His insecurity regarding it causes those edges to grow larger and sharper, like a porcupine protecting itself. It will overpower him. It will sweep his rider away to places he cannot follow! The prickling feeling of unease can be felt in the air around him, like static electricity that gradually grows in intensity until even Ka'el, entwined within a heavy wave of lust, can feel it too. A prickling to his skin, far different than the sensation that was brought by Soriana. But…damn it. He doesn't want to stop. He wants this kiss to last more than moments. He wants her hand to explore more of him and touch and feel the dips and curves and hard and softnesses of his body. He wants his hand to find places of her he has not felt before, and he wants to hear the sounds that escape from her throat that feeds something primal inside of him. He wants to press and grind and make real those things that have been conjured in his mind and refuse to leave. His wants are many. Oh so many. And there's a moment where he feels as if he can't stop. Her warmth, her tongue, the taste of her is more intoxicating than any wine could hope to be, and for a second, a mere second, he doesn't care what Kanekith does. He's wanted this more than even he has realized or dared to admit. He's hungered for it far before Kanekith, and now it's here for the taking. She's here for his taking. … And there's a bronze who is too young to understand, too possessive to try to, and at the moment, too overcome by what he does not know for Ka'el to ignore. Can he? … That's not a question. He has to. The kiss is broken as he pulls his head back, the movement necessarily swift. Eyes open with the parting, and the expression on his face is almost painfully feral. "Kanekith." One word, but it speaks volumes. The one word that explains why his hand is no longer gripping at panties and is pulled away, tensely.

The kiss ends. The cock does not crow. Soriana's eyes open abruptly. Ka'el stopped. Her gaze seeks his, holding questions. Worries. The sun beneath the horizon in Luraoth's pleasant daze pauses. It clings to the edge of the sky, as uncertain as Soriana's hands that are caught touching a Ka'el who's no longer touching her. Who no longer wants her? There's no hiding the change in his body, not with hers so close. The sudden tension is obvious to her, though the reason why takes a moment - and a word. "Shards." That's her word back, and her hand pulls out of his pants. "Shards!" Again, and her frustration makes it louder. So close. She felt him against her. She wanted… so many things, and she can't have any of them. She steps back from Ka'el, from the arms that she can't have around her the way she wants. From the body that she can't take. She turns her head away from him, because she can't look at him right now. She doesn't want to see… "Fucking shards." It's practically a whisper, that time. Her hands curl up on themselves, clenching into fists as she looks out over the dark water. In Luraoth's mind, the sun sinks below the horizon, never having risen. Only a false dawn, and the shadows grow deeper, the sky fading to bruise-dark purple.

Frustration is a word too tame to describe what he's left with after losing what he had. Their parting which leaves his body feeling suddenly too light. Too empty without her pressed against him. Her hand is where he wanted it to be. Perfect, almost, was this moment when they almost had what they've been wanting. Almost. Ka'el can't look away from her immediately. His hunger is too dominant, her touch too fresh, but he soon has to for looking at her is making him feel reckless again, and his gaze turns skyward. Fucking shards just about sums it up. Fuck .. fuck. The fingers of both hands are raked back through his hair, grasping and pulling at the strands a bit before falling away. His chest heaves with heavily taken breaths, doing what he can to slow the elevated beat of his heart and douse the fire that has been ignited. Heavy silence falls save the sounds of the nighttime surf, and gradually, oh so gradually, do those inky quills begin to shorten, shrinking into a bodiless form. "I'm sorry." The phrase is spoken lowly.

Soriana stares out across the water, watching waves she can't really see. It's dark, after all. She can't see more than a foot or two. Plenty of distance to have seen Ka'el, but… well. Kanekith. Her hands stay curled, her breathing a flimsy imitation of deep. The dozing Luraoth stirs again, this time with concern for her rider - a more private touch than the happy broadcast she echoed before. A more worried dragon; her rider's pleasure is one thing, whether she understands it or not. Her rider's pain is another. Soriana lowers her head, staring at the sand at her feet instead of the waves as she tries to calm her dragon; to tell her that everything's okay. To convince her of that… and Sori's fists unclench in the process, as she forces calm on herself to persuade Luraoth of the same. It's okay… no, it's not okay. It really isn't. But… finally Luraoth drifts back toward deeper sleep, soothed. Persuaded that things with her rider are close enough to okay. Luraoth sleeps, and Soriana is left with the silence of the beach, the steady sound of the waves. Ka'el speaks to that silence, and for a moment, Soriana just leaves the words there, letting the waves answer him. She inhales, another deep breath, and lets it out slowly. "I'm tired of waiting." She doesn't look at him. "I know. We have to." But she doesn't have to like it.

He can try to douse that fire of his, but it continues to burn, not entirely put out. Embers that glow. Small flames that lick at his chest. She doesn't like waiting? Ka'el hates it. With a passion. "I know," he agrees, two more words said in the same tone as his former. It will not be like this forever, but the wait for those days of utter control and dragon maturity has been and will be excruciatingly long. Quills continue to retract as Kanekith finds peace again. The feeling, whatever it was that was so suffocating and hot to the dragon, is receding. He can feel his Ka'el again, and despite his rider's frustration, the bronze is reassured. Time passes, the seconds turned to minutes, before Ka'el moves, his quiet footfalls heard on the shifting sand approaching her from behind, getting nearer. And then his touch is back, not exactly the same as before, but still, his touch. His hand is placed on her shoulder and ran down her arm to find her hand, slipping his fingers between hers. "When we don't have to wait anymore, I promise I'm gonna make it worth every second that we had to." His body is kept separate from hers, wisely under the circumstances, and he lifts her arm and brings her hand back over her shoulder, pressing his lips very gently to the back of each finger. His other hand grazes her side of her neck in a slow caress before falling away and his fingers slip away from hers, freeing her hand. "I gotta go to him, and I need you to go too cuz I'm not leavin' you out here alone." Protective he is, whether or not she wants him to be.

She knows. He knows. Soriana nods, ever so slightly, at Ka'el's words. She still doesn't look at him, though. Not even when she can hear his footsteps, coming toward her. The touch of his hand on her shoulder makes her breath quicken despite herself, and when his hand reaches hers, her fingers curl in against his without a moment's hesitation. She doesn't look to him, but her arm moves freely. Each finger twitches slightly with the touch of his lips… and then his hand releases hers, and Soriana turns, unwilling to give up the touch she couldn't admit how much she wanted. Her eyes seek his, and she nods again. "All right," she says softly. To his promise? To his need of the moment? Both, maybe. Her hand reaches out for his again. It makes it harder, to have that touch; the reminder of what even a small touch is like, the candle-flame that reminds her of what a bonfire is. It's hard… but stumbling around in the dark without even a candle-flame is harder still, and so Soriana will take Ka'el's hand, and hold it in hers as they go back along the quiet beach to the barracks… and their dragons.

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