Difference between revisions of "Logs:Mistakes to Live With"

A greenflight (not Teisyth's, thank Faranth) has made the infirmary particularly busy this evening. So perhaps that Oliwer's next patient is G'laer in one of the curtained alcoves, with his shirt already off, will come as a surprise, though surely he was handed the man's file. The complaint is his shoulder-- the shoulder Oliwer used to keep in good order outside of the infirmary. The shoulder he's been in for since their breakup, seen by one of the other healers on duty. As the healer must already know from their long association, sometimes it just is bad. Judging from the tightness of the greenrider's features, now is one such time, and that his eyes briefly betray surprise shows that this was not planned.

Oliwer was, indeed, handed G'laer's file, but possibly only on his way past before he was pointed to this particular alcove while whoever was supposed to be here tends to something else. The journeyman has seen G'laer about this particular injury, after all, so who better to help him deal with it now. He pauses as soon as he steps through the curtain, though, eyes wide, then glances down at the chart with a strange wince in his expression. "Right," he manages after a moment, starting to step back from the curtain, "I'll just-- Let me find someone for you."

It must be a bad night because before Oliwer can step back, G'laer pins him with a look and two simple words, "Oli, please." The tone conveys everything: help.

There's only a brief meeting of gazes and then Oliwer's eyes are closing so he can have a few moments of private thought before he resigns himself to seeing to the greenrider himself. He moves further into the alcove, setting the file aside and looking at G'laer's shoulder, but not his face. "Have you attempted any treatment yourself?" is finally asked as his hands move to familiar, troubling places.

"Like you taught me. The stretches." But G'laer can't get at the spot and Teisyth's manipulations aren't fine enough. The greenrider's voice is low and his eyes slide shut as he quietly controls the reactions of discomfort caused by the necessary pressures placed on the spot.

"Have you taken anything for the discomfort?" is his following question, though he doesn't pause in his examination. The pressure might even increase. But Oliwer would never hurt G'laer on purpose, so it must be out of necessity.

"No." It comes quietly and after G'laer has drawn a ragged breath. When Oliwer shift's his hand to a new trouble-spot, the greenrider hisses an intake of breath and instinctively reaches back with his other hand to land on Oliwer's knee and clutch there a moment as the muscle spasms.

Oliwer lets up when G'laer's hand touches his knee. But whether out of habit or something else isn't entirely clear. He waits for it to pass and he's somewhat more gentle when he continues, for as much as that might help. If the greenrider does nothing to encourage otherwise, Oliwer will continue through the familiar motions in silence.

The hand doesn't move away from the knee like it should. G'laer's eyes are closed again. He draws a breath; this breath is readily identified as a steeling breath. He moves away from the hands that tend him to stand. "Sorry." The greenrider starts reaching for his shirt.

"No," says Oliwer, trying to catch G'laer by the less painful shoulder in an attempt to keep his ass planted. "When I'm done, you can go do whatever it is you do with yourself now. Until then, you're going to sit here and let me help you."

The hand stops him half way up and he hesitates there before sitting back down. G'laer probably can't say where it comes from, his need to say softly, "I miss you."

"G'laer," says Oliwer in a soft, meaningful voice, hands stilling for a handful of moments. It could be that he's trying to decide whether to return the sentiment or not, but then his hands are moving again. "I miss you, too," comes out before he can stop himself. "But it seems the natural way of things."

It's quiet and sounds more like G'laer is asking for permission when he leans forward and says, "I can't be here. It hurts more than the shoulder." He might as well have said more than anything.

Oliwer doesn't know how to respond to that, exactly, but his hands slip away and he doesn't stop G'laer this time. "I can... I'll find someone else to help you. It could be tended to." If the greenrider bothers to look at him before he goes, his eyes are bright with tears to match the slight waver of emotion in his voice.

It's probably deeply embarrassing for G'laer that he has to say, "I still love you," as if it could change something when Oliwer rises. A hand even extends just a little toward the healer.

The healer draws in a deep breath and it's noticeably shakey when he lets it out again, looking at the greenrider like he doesn't understand. "Love was never our problem, was it?" Of course Oliwer still loves G'laer. He must not feel that needs to be said. "I thought we weren't going to do this."

"Can we not?" G'laer asks, his voice strained with the pain of it all. "When I don't want you any less today than any other since I met you?"

Oliwer has some difficulty swallowing around the lump that's formed in his throat. There's at least one tear that's gotten free from his eyes to trail down his cheek, but he's quick to lift a hand to wipe it away. "I know what I want to say to that, G'laer, but I don't know what I'm supposed to say."

"Fuck supposed to." G'laer probably isn't supposed to be closing the distance between them intending to sweep the healer into his arms for a fervent kiss. Almost certainly not.

Oliwer only takes half a step back, knowing he should keep going and not really being able to force himself to do it. But he manages a concerned, "Your shoulder," before he's wrapping his arms around the greenrider's neck and kissing him back in a way that he definitely shouldn't be.

G'laer moves backwards as they kiss, drawing Oliwer further into the curtained alcove, perhaps now wishing he'd ended up in one of those fancy private exam rooms off near the offices. How much is he willing to risk? Apparently, everything. This is Oliwer's place of work, after all, so it'll have to be the healer to put a stop to things if he wants to keep his pants on.

Oliwer should stop him, but he doesn't really want to stop him. So he doesn't. Not at first. It's not until his pants are far enough down to make it very obvious how much he doesn't want to stop that he says, breathy and reluctant, "We shouldn't do this here."

Here, or at all? G'laer's low growl is a protest as he pulls Oliwer to sit on the edge of the cot. "You won't make a noise," he instructs as he drops onto his knees. It happens in a matter of seconds. Apparently, he's not about to be put off by Oliwer's place of work, even if he'll spare Oliwer what might be a truly awkward position in favor of this one, which might be slightly less awkward? Maybe?

Definitely here. Later it might be 'at all' but right now, it's just here. Except that they're still here and Oliwer's hand finds it's way into G'laer's hair, curling tight if only to help him from making any noise. There's no direction because none is really needed. This position has never taken very long and now is no exception. His hand loosens once he's left panting, but he strokes G'laer's hair for several moments before asking, "You?"

G'laer looks up at him for only half a heartbeat before he's nodding and seeking to switch places with the healer. In this instance, it won't take very long for G'laer either, because it's been too long. At least Oliwer may rest easy that the greenrider hasn't been off fucking some young thing in his absence.

If they weren't here, Oliwer might enjoy drawing it out on purpose. But they are and he's missed even this about his weyrmate so it's probably best that he can't try. He'd probably fail. Once it's over, the healer rests his head against G'laer's thigh to enjoy at least a few moments of closeness before he needs to get up again.

Those moments give G'laer enough recovery time to reach to help the healer up, only then he's seeking to draw him into his lap, just for a moment or two. It's about more than the orgasms, obviously.

Oliwer settles there easily, tucking himself in against G'laer's bare chest and breathing in deeply. He could say how much he's missed having the greenrider's arms around him, how much he's missed the way he smells, the way he tastes or how much he's missed hearing his voice. But he doesn't. He probably doesn't need to.

"Come home, Oli," G'laer's voice is quiet, wistful in this stolen moment. But where is home anyway? G'laer left it, too. It's too easy to say, so much harder to do. Then he shifts to reach down with one hand to pull closed hastily opened laces. There is reality to deal with here too.

It's not tension in Oliwer's body when G'laer says those words, but there's a slight shift, maybe just the way he breathes. "I miss you so much, Gal." It's not really an answer, and then the healer is shifting to stand so they can both make themselves presentable. "Will you come by my room later? We can talk then, if you want." Or not talk, if he doesn't want. Oliwer would probably be okay with activities that don't require a lot of talking.

It isn't an answer, but the greenrider will apparently take it. "I'll be there," is promised before G'laer catches Oliwer up for one more kiss before retaking his place on the cot, like the good patient he's going to pretend to be.

A breath is sighed out as though that answer takes some sort of weight off of Oliwer's shoulders. And now that that's out of the way, he can focus on working G'laer's shoulder until it's not causing the greenrider quite so much physical pain.

Only Oliwer doesn't get much time. The time that they've taken in other pursuits has an aide sticking his head in moments after they've resumed the patient-healer positions asking the healer to see to a more urgent case if he's done here. But that doesn't change that G'laer is waiting outside Oliwer's room with a bottle of Oli's favorite wine in hand when the healer returns. Hopefully, this time, there won't be any head wounds.

Oliwer hesitates, but only very briefly, before he rises to see to the more urgently needy patient, murmuring an apology to G'laer as he goes. When he returns to his room and finds the greenrider waiting for him there, Oliwer can't help but smile at him. It's a nice smile, too; boyish and trusting despite his turns and what they've been through. He lets them inside and takes the bottle from G'laer to set it somewhere safe before rounding back on his once weyrmate for a kiss that requires none of the chastity of a curtained alcove.

So that'll be first then, since there's no chance that G'laer is about to put a stop to things once they get going. So it's not until Oliwer is snugged in his familiar place against G'laer's side on the unfamiliar (to G'laer) bed that there are any words at all. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He had been eager. He probably means physically.

That Oliwer is satisfied to be curled up against G'laer in such a familiar way is pretty obvious. And he doesn't want it to end unnecessarily soon. "I feel good," he murmurs. Which doesn't necessarily mean it didn't hurt at times. But perhaps only in the ways that the healer likes, the ways that he's missed so much.

The greenrider doesn't seem to be in any hurry to end things. His arm flexes to draw Oliwer that much tighter against him even as G'laer's abs tighten to allow him to press a kiss to the top of the healer's head. "This is a nice mattress." He observes some moments later, seemingly without specific purpose until, "I need a new one," which could mean he's looking for recommendations for a reed stuffer only... he's probably making the obvious suggestion without making it directly.

Oliwer isn't going to move away at all. But the tone of his voice is careful when he says, "G'laer. Do you think going down that road is a good idea?" It's a genuine question, but uncertain. Because it's not like he's not tempted by it himself. The greenrider is his home and he's been really damned homesick.

The greenrider is quiet, very quiet, and he hugs Oliwer to him like he might slip away if he can't physically keep him there. "It's not. I know it's not. Nothing is ever going to change that I love you, Oliwer. Nothing will ever change that one day I will die regretting I couldn't be the man I needed to be for you. But things are happening in the world that are bigger than us," there's already regret in G'laer's voice. "And if we're together, you're going to see me come home with the wounds of that and other wars. And I don't want to hurt you over and over and over again." Can't. He can't.

Well, that certainly doesn't ease Oliwer's uncertainty. He tilts his head to look at G'laer, trying to press up on one arm so he can see the man he loves more easily. "I don't understand." And he's not even sure enough about which part he doesn't understand to help out the greenrider with some specifics. Maybe it's just all of it.

G'laer presses another kiss to Oliwer's hair. "I know." But he doesn't explain. He simply shifts a little and starts a rhythmic rub of the older man's back. There's tension in G'laer's frame, but he's going to enjoy this for every moment he still can.

Oliwer settles back down against G'laer, tucking himself in against the larger man like he's always belonged there. He's quiet for some time, savoring their time together while he can, but then he's asking in a quiet voice, "Are we going to do this again?"

"Do you want to?" G'laer says after a heavy exhale.

"Yes," Oliwer breathes out before he really has a chance to think about it. But even in the moments that follow, there's no indication that he wants to take it back.

"Are you sure?" G'laer must ask, mustn't he?

The only thing that Oliwer is uncertain about now is, "Don't you want to?"

G'laer's arm tightens, "Of course I do." There's no hesitation. "But I don't want to hurt you more." The greenrider sighs, jaw tightening and eyes on the ceiling.

"It hurts more to not see you. Or to see you like today and pretend that there's just... nothing." Oliwer sounds sad, but earnest. "I don't know how we're supposed to do any of this." Being apart, presumably. "Not unless I go back to the hall. Or maybe ask to be posted somewhere else." He doesn't sound particularly happy about either of these options.

The arm that had begun to loosen tightens all over again. "I don't want you to go." There's something more than firmness in G'laer's voice. It's subtle, but there... Fear.

It's not really something that Oliwer is used to hearing in G'laer's voice at all, so it probably sticks out a little more than it might if it were coming from, say, Oli. He shifts, draping an arm across the greenrider's torso. "I don't want to go."

"Don't." G'laer's breath is heavy for a few exhales. "I want you to come home, but I don't know how to have that happen and for me not to just hurt you and let you down all over again." It is a bit like the greenrider is talking himself in circles. There's a silent moment and then a sad, resigned, "This is it, then."

"No," comes out of Oliwer's mouth more than a little anxiously. "No, this isn't." He's not ready for this to be it. And apparently it's not just G'laer's choice.

The greenrider starts, body jerking slightly under the healer. "No," there's a blush in the man's cheeks. "I mean, this." One hand sweeps across bare flesh. "I mean this is it. What we get to have." Since Oliwer isn't, apparently, coming home.

Oliwer has probably never felt quite so much relief over the fact that they aren't together. But only because of his misunderstanding. And maybe it even makes this that much better after he thought, if only for a few moments, that he might not have this much. "You scared me," he says before Oliwer shifts and leans up to press his lips to G'laer's in a kiss that's oddly firm coming from the healer. He'll show him just how relieved he is.

They can both be odd then. "I'm sorry," the apology is genuine and so rarely given by the greenrider that it sticks out all the more. "I didn't mean to." These words punctuate the kisses that follow the first. Everyone makes mistakes, arguably they're still in the process of making one with far more reaching consequences than the simple miscommunication.

But this mistake feels so nice right now. It's not like they both don't know it's a mistake, either. It's just clearly one worth making. That's why Oliwer isn't thinking about it being a mistake when he starts to shift over the greenrider to straddle his hips. "Will you stay awhile?" he asks even as he presses another kiss to G'laer's lips. He doesn't want this to be it for now.

"I'd like to stay forever," G'laer admits, letting his hands shift to Oliwer's thighs.

Oliwer isn't really what anyone would consider a bold man, but he must be feeling good right now. Who wouldn't feel good when they person they love is back in their arms after too long away? Or between their legs, rather. "I'm not sure that's long enough." And once G'laer is ready again, Oliwer is eager to take advantage of his position.