Mixed Bag

Warning: Mild adult themes below!

Xanadu Weyr - Guest Weyr
Rustic and simple, this one-roomed cottage sits at the edge of the forest near the feeding grounds. The decor is spartan with a wide, comfortable bed and a couch, table and chairs and small kitchenette. Kept stocked with food and drink, the bed freshened with sheets and coverlets after each use by the weyrstaff, it's nothing more than a place to give riders participating in mating flights a bit of privacy when they need it.

The Comet greenrider was doing his absolute best to exhaust the proddy out of his system with a run, his go-to for any sort of problem solving, when Koth decided it was time to lead a handful of hungry suitors on a frustrating chase. V'ro is panting when he makes it where he's going, but there's only one face he's looking for when he gets there. Glorioth has won Koth every time she's risen thus far, so there's no particular reason to think this flight will be any different. At least not until the green succumbs to her own exhaustion in the grasp of a bronze who is decidedly not Glorioth. And that man? Not F'yr.

One of those ‘hungry’ suitors ends up being Zekath, the older bronze shedding his usual run of chasing gold in favour of Koth. She must have caught his attention in some way or perhaps multiple losses of late fuelled it. That the flight itself was frustrating drove him to his limits — and imagine his elated surprise when she ends up snared in his grip! Never one to crow his victories (like a CERTAIN BRONZE), he will secure Koth in a vice-like hold and twining together to carry her off, smugness kept purely to himself. K'vir was not expecting this turn of events, flustered and not the least bit thrilled but resigned to Zekath’s chase. The end, however, was definitely not the expected one — the bronze is so infrequent a winner, after all — but such is the humor of fate. Unfortunately, it’s not F’yr but K’vir who will seek V’ro out at the end. Where do they end up? Not that the details truly matter at that very moment — truly, the bronzerider’s mind is focused on a far baser, more pressing, matter!

Both green and rider submit to their champions, but V'ro is not so exhausted yet to be any sort of passive conquest. Whether K'vir needs any encouragement to abandon himself to the fervor of victory or not, the greenrider will lavish him with it until they're both wholly spent and satiated, V'ro panting for breath in the profound aftermath that the young greenrider still hasn't quite gotten used to. For all that he might want to doze off, to recover, he seems to be fighting the urge to instead keep those clear green eyes of his focused on the largely unfamiliar, but presumably more experienced, bronzerider.

Little encouragement is necessary, once K’vir can pick up on V’ro’s preference of fervor and enthusiasm. What is given by the greenrider, will be returned by the bronzerider, until they reach that spent and satiated state. He doesn’t quite collapse on him but around him instead, and K’vir isn’t immediately rolling away — hopefully V’ro isn’t entirely against the lingering intimacy! Because he doesn’t seem the least bit troubled by it. It could be due to him catching his breath or that his thoughts are completely shattered yet, still largely fogged by the residual flight lust. When at last he can slow his breathing and get some grip on his awareness, K’vir will slowly open his eyes… and meet those clear green eyes of an equally unfamiliar greenrider. He doesn’t tense or draw back, his features settling into a mixed expression — chief among it being lingering passion and unspoken questions that can wait, if needed (or not be spoken at all). Does he pick up on how V’ro struggles? Maybe… and maybe not. Exhaustion could be mutual and it certainly comes across that he doesn’t mind just resting there. Nothing has to be said (yet), but if they drift? So be it.

As soon as V'ro has decided that K'vir is safe, however he comes about to that conclusion, it's obvious that he isn't at all against intimacy with this relative stranger. Rather, he sinks into their closeness, and allows the lingering lassitude of contentedness to overwhelm any desire to stay conscious. Just gonna take a little nap. Right here. It's fine. At least until he's rousing again to slip away and use the facilities. On his way back, he pauses to pour himself a glass of water, then another, and brings them both back toward the bed, setting the extra down on the table on the side closest to K'vir.

It’s fine! Nothing to be afraid of. Truth be told, K’vir is safe. He will drift into a light dozing state once V’ro relaxes into him There may be a point where his arm slips around him or perhaps it has always been there. At some point it will slip away, before or after the greenrider slips from the bed. Not long after that, K’vir will drift back to consciousness as well, his eyes blinking open, brows furrowed as he struggles to focus. It’s a slow, unhurried thing and by the time he’s tracking his movement, V’ro has already put the glass of water down. Scrubbing at his face, sweeping back some of his tangled mess of dark hair, he’s propped himself up on one arm. “Thanks.” He speaks! His voice is quiet, somewhat deeper in tone.

The word is met with the flicker of an uncertain smile from the greenrider, who is not exactly known for being coy. But K'vir probably doesn't know that, so it's not weird. On his way to sit on the edge of the bed, V'ro picks up the shorts he was wearing when he arrived, though he doesn't go so far as to put them on. "This is the first—" he starts, pausing at a moment that might lead one to believe things that are likely impossible at Koth's age. This is definitely not the first time she's risen. "I mean, it's always been my…" He pauses again, not sure what word ought to be used here. "My friend?" Basically V'ro is less sure what to do with someone he doesn't know.

None of this is weird (and yet it is), as K’vir doesn’t act awkwardly at all. There’s a vague quirked smile in return to the uncertain on V’ro offers, but nothing further than that. He doesn’t even blink when the greenrider picks up his shorts — that’s just an expected thing, be it then or later. Carefully, slowly, he will shift on the bed until he too is sitting up on the edge. That glass of water now in one hand and lifted to his lips. He’ll drink about half of it, while V’ro speaks, not out of lack of caring (quite the opposite, actually) but to give him the semblance of ‘normalcy’ in order to continue. If K’vir’s relaxed enough to be somewhat casual, all is “fine”, right? Right. Setting the glass down again, he’ll exhale heavily but nod slightly, a look of understanding settling on his features. V’ro need not say anything more, K’vir is already accepting ‘friend’, whether not quite the right term. He might have had more of a reaction (a slightly quirked brow) at the word ‘first’ more than anything! Imagine his relief, okay? “I understand.” he replies in that same low, quiet manner. “We don’t have to…” He fumbles, looking a touch frustrated at himself for lacking the words. But his hand gestures to indicate the room. Linger? Touch? Talk? All of the above? Maybe that’s not important. Instead, he tilts his head a little to glance sidelong to V’ro (apparently modesty is not on his list either). “You alright?”

V'ro glances over at K'vir when the bronzerider sits up, then he's looking down into the glass he's still holding again, shifting it in his hand. "I don't know," is his impulsive, but genuine response to that question, but then he hesitates and amends, "Yeah. Yeah, of course. I'm good." It sounds more convincing as he goes, but which one of them is he really trying to convince? He clears his throat, lifts his glass to drink the rest of the water, and abruptly seems to remember the world doesn't revolve around him. "Fuck, sorry. Are you? Okay?"

That wasn’t quite the answer expected and while it’s not a flat out ‘no’, it draws a concerned look from K’vir. He’s about to respond, but V’ro is amending himself and that only throws him off his groove again. It takes a moment, the silence between them growing, before the bronzerider gathers himself. When he does speak, it’s in that same ponderous manner — slow, deliberate. Like he takes care in what he says, however minimal it may be. “You can be honest.” he admits, with a vague half-smirk to go with it to take the edge off. “Won’t hurt my feelings.” Okay, maybe it’d sting a little bit but he’s a big boy and will suck it up. “Firsts are always a mixed bag.” Of what? He blinks, letting his gaze shift away from V’ro and somewhere else for a bit. “Yeah.” Genuinely, he’s fine. “Zekath so rarely wins and rarer still with greens. Bit of a shock.”

"No. No, I didn't mean— You were— This was fine. Good." V'ro is back up on his feet again, skin flushed as he fumbles over reassuring words. He sets his glass down on the table near the other, then puts a step or so of distance between them to start pulling on his shorts, glancing around for his shoes. But he pauses again as the last fully processes and he looks a little guilty, but not sure what to do about it. "That sounds kind of nice," he'll admit, even if he's not sure whether K'vir feels the same or not. "I thought Koth maybe had a thing for Glorioth. Or because of whatever with F'yr. Maybe she just has a thing for bronzes." He shrugs. Women, right?

Whoops! “That’s… not what I meant?” K’vir’s voice doesn’t waver much from that same quiet nature, even when he lifts one of his hands up. Easy there! He’s not rising from the edge of the bed yet but his gaze lifts to rest on V’ro. “I’m not good with words.” It’s not an excuse and more an apology turned explanation, as he grimaces a bit near the end. It’s not a desired trait! But he’s working on it. “I meant you can be as honest as you want — about anything. Not necessarily…” Now he gestures between them, to indicate physical versus just talking. Emotional. He pauses then, to take a breath, exhaling slowly. “Not that you’re obligated to even give me the time of day. Not even a name.” K’vir points out with a smirk. Then that name, bronze and rider both, are dropped and his brows lift — he’s not outrightly admitting anything. Ignore the slight flush, V’ro. Ignore that he’s looking away, maybe to find HIS clothing. “Could be.” Both. “It’s not uncommon for them to have preferred mates or sway to rider preference.” Women, indeed.

Maybe V'ro realizes something here, looking at K'vir. He stares perhaps a few moments too long, then looks just about anywhere but at the bronzerider. "V'ro, sir," he offers up his name. Either he knows who this man is already, there are only so many wingleaders and wingseconds, after all, compared to one greenrider in a sea of green, or he's just falling into the natural order of things. There's another glance cast about for his shoes, a moment that's almost distress because where did they go, but, fine, screw them. He can just get new ones! "I'm sorry, I need to…'' V'ro gestures vaguely toward the door, before he's turning that way to dismiss himself.

Ouch, V’ro! K’vir’s features twist, grimace evident even if the flinch isn’t as much. Sir? REALLY. Here and now? He doesn’t go on to correct him as he isn’t given the chance. He’s not given the chance for anything beyond looking mildly startled when the greenrider decides to rush himself out the door. “Right, it’s fine…” Not really, but it’s not like he has any say in dictating how long V’ro stays here. The greenrider will get his escape, while the bronzerider remains behind to silently curse and swear. K’vir will eventually rise from the edge of the bed, clean up and dress himself. As for the missing shoes? Well… maybe they’ll somehow find their way back to V’ro. If they just-so happen to reappear somewhere he can see them or find them, magically, that’s fine right?

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