Difference between revisions of "Logs:The Proddy Wingsecond"

Hot Springs, High Reaches Area

Even further north than the Weyr itself, a short flight between crags and over crevasses that even a wing-scarred veteran of Fall might undertake, a cluster of clearings lies low in the shelter of hardy trees and ancient stone. The outer two clearings might have been lost to more stubbly trees Turns ago, if it weren't for the centre-most: a natural pool of warm, softly bubbling water several dragonlengths across, with enough space for perhaps a half-dozen people and their lifemates. Though the air is cold all Turn round, and snowdrifts frequently whiten the ground, the geothermal activity heats the mineral-scented water to such a consistently comfortable heat that it becomes a refuge for those who don't wish to travel further afield to wash their dragons.

Of the clearings that abut the spring, the nearest is only a few steps away, though it's small enough that only a few dragons can lounge at once. A steep trail descends to its substantially larger neighbor, a gravel-strewn crescent with enough space to spread out and enjoy the crisp air and the mountain range's admittedly spectacular views.

It's unusual for G'laer to be able to convince Teisyth out of hiding when her rusty hide is starting to take on a glow. And it's true that they're grounded, but the hot springs are too great a lure for even that. Thankfully, there's no holdings along the short flight to the Hot Springs, so chances are good they wouldn't get in trouble here. Of course, one mightn't even notice Teisyth here with the way she's submerged herself until only her nostrils are poking out of the water. G'laer is sprawled lazily in the pool, only submerged to his waist.

Even Reisoth doesn't notice that Teisyth is here as he settles nearby. Perhaps his rider is being distracting or his thoughts are elsewhere. But it's not until he's submerging himself that he realizes there's another dragon hiding in the water at all. He must be distracted. H'vier is less concerned about who's where as he strips down and follows the bronze into the water. He'd probably care more if he recognized G'laer over there before he was naked and wet. As it is, when he does, he's cursing under his breath. Well, it's a big pool. Surely there's room for the both of them.

Teisyth does not move. If she doesn't move, she can pretend she's not there right? Of course, this is Reisoth, so at least she's not actively walling herself off mentally. G'laer grins at H'vier. Possibly it's a foreboding sign. "Hiiii Haaaavi." The greenrider sounds amused and the words are very nearly but not quite sing-songy. "Nice day," isn't it?

Well. That's moderately unsettling. H'vier's gaze is drawn over to the other man. It's sort of hard to ignore that voice. "Greenrider," he greets pleasantly enough. "I suppose so." Surely Reisoth will clue him in at some point. For now the bronze is busy not disturbing Teisyth with anything more than a gentle and brief touch of his mind.

"Greenrider. Seriously?" G'laer questions with a laugh. "We've fucked, and more," at least he has the tact not to discuss their business aloud, "And I'm greenrider?" More laughter. This isn't creepy at all.

Nope, not creepy at all. That's why H'vier is looking at the greenrider like that. Like he can't quite figure out what to make of him. Then he's glancing at Reisoth, who is perhaps enlightening him. And then he's looking in G'laer's direction again. "There something else you want me to call you? Maybe sweetheart?"

That makes him laugh more. If H'vier wants less creepy, he should stop being apparently hilarious. "Nah. I'll pass thanks. Weyrmated, remember? And that's really not my style anyway. Usually." Now, well... G'laer grins over at the bronzerider. "Didn't you want us to be friendly? Look, friendly." Smiling and everything!

"It's mildly unsettling," admits the bronzerider, eyeing the other man for a handful of moments more before his gaze shifts away and he finds somewhere to sink further into the warm water. "Would think you'd want to be holed away with that weyrmate about now." Rather than floating around here.

"Been there, done him, will do him again later." Or be done by him. Same same. G'laer grins. "A soak is nice. And he works a lot. It's sort of his thing."The greenrider says it off handedly and even makes a fluttery gesture with one drippy hand. "But let this be your lesson: be careful what you ask for. You just might get it." And it'll creep you out like Toothy Smile G'laer.

"As weird as it is to see you smiling at me like that, I still think I prefer it to worrying about you wanting to stab me with," H'vier's gaze flickers toward what the water fortunately obscures below G'laer's waist, "anything sharper than your little friend there."

"Well, we made a deal, didn't we?" G'laer still smiles, even getting crinkles at the edges of his eyes. "I would've thought a big bad bronzerider like you would be worried about me, or men in general, wanting to stab you with even that. Maybe especially that." The greenrider's tone is mocking and his amusement deep.

H'vier doesn't want to say that he's worried about that. But the fact that he doesn't, and instead rumbles something approximating annoyance, likely says enough that he is. Especially that. "We made a deal," is what he decides to agree on.

"So no stabbing." G'laer watches the bronzerider a moment and then asks with no lead up, "So when are you going to take Fayla's knot instead of just acting the part?"

That question has the bronzerider's full attention turning back on G'laer with quick attentiveness. It's unexpected and surprising. And, more importantly, incredibly valid. H'vier could hedge around the answer, but there's probably little reason to do so in his present company. "When it's time."

It's fortunate for them both that they're the only ones who occupy this particular pool because Proddy G'laer might not have the presence of mind to mind eavesdroppers. "When you do, you'll need a 'second." The greenrider says it with a grin. "That's me, you know."

Oh, H'vier would mind eavesdroppers plenty enough for the both of them, almost certainly. As it is, he's allowed to focus entirely on what G'laer is saying. Which doesn't, somehow, make it easier to digest. The bronzerider laughs, amused rather than contemptuous, anyway. "Is it, now. And how do you figure that?"

"Because you need someone you can trust, and who better than someone you have things on?" G'laer points out, as if it doesn't bother him in the least that H'vier has things on him. "You know I can handle shit, and I'm not bad at taking orders, as long as they're not stupid." His look does linger on H'vier long enough to make that an implication. "And Reisoth gets along with Teisyth. Between the two of us, I don't think her various... challenges," not short-comings, "would prove detrimental." Then his smile reappears, "And you don't want to admit it, but you sort of like me. Or at least my guts or style."

Trust. That can be a funny thing for people like H'vier and G'laer. He's not going to argue that point, though, because it's true. The bronzerider is watching the greenrider carefully, still looking somewhat amused by the whole notion but, presumably, not dismissing it as a matter of course. "The wing won't be happy about me bringing in a 'second from somewhere else." Never mind that's how he became wingsecond.

No, no, no neverminding. "You survived, and look at you now. One night of bad decisions and you're almost wingleader." Then G'laer laughs aloud because, "And think, that's not the kind of thing you'll ever need to worry about with us." Since H'vier can't get knocked up and G'laer's not interested anyway. "The wing will adjust. I do know how to win people over," even if it's not a skill he regularly exercises.

Some men might wonder if it was all worth it. H'vier might even wonder sometimes, himself. When he's alone and brooding. But he's not doing that right now. Nope, right now he's just impressed with the size of G'laer's balls. Not that he's looking... figurative balls! "You make a good case," he admits. "I suppose I'll take it into consideration."

"Sure you will." Even Proddy G'laer knows better than to make it sound too much like a foregone conclusion. He stretches. "I hear you're single again," it's an abrupt subject change, and one that might be calculated but for the Proddy. "And that she's pregnant."

There's a sound for the first of what G'laer says, a rumble of acknowledgement more than anything that means anything. As he's already done, the rest of what the greenrider says makes H'vier study the other man for a few moments. "That's correct. But she's still off limits."

G'laer grins cheerily. "Okay." But he looks amused. He looks toward Reisoth rather than pushing the Tayte button. "Do us both a favor and keep him busy the next day or so," please. Away from the Weyr is certainly implied.

H'vier follows G'laer's gaze toward Reisoth and it lingers there when the greenrider speaks. "You mean to tell me that you don't look forward to getting fucked good and hard by a real man?" That could sound asshole-y, but he doesn't actually seem to intend it that way. Joking about gayness isn't really his strong point. "Trust me, we'll be as far away as we can manage. Won't we, Rei!" The last is posed to the bronze, who gives no indication that he's paying any attention to the men whatsoever.

"No," G'laer sounds amused, so bloodshed doesn't seem likely. "I generally prefer to do the fucking. And I also generally prefer only to be fucking my weyrmate, not that that's really an option." He glances toward the submerged Teisyth and gives a wistful sort of sigh. Then he glances back to H'vier. "And lest I let you go on making an ass of yourself," because that's what assumptions make 'u', right? "I'm not gay." That's said matter of factly.

"That must be a big disappointment to your weyrmate. He seems like the sort that--" H'vier cuts himself off and glances at Reisoth again. Then it's back to G'laer to say, "We'll be in touch," before he's turning to start heading back to where he left his clothes on shore.

It's probably good that H'vier is going, because weyrmates are off limits and that like of talk might've gotten one or both of them injured. Indeed, G'laer's good humor had abruptly abated and his narrowed gaze follows the bronzerider. But thankfully the waters feel nice and he and Teisyth have no where they need to be, so... they stay, content in the heat and steam.