Difference between revisions of "Logs:Lust for the Unsuspecting"

Bathing Pools, High Reaches Weyr

Omnipresent clouds of steam slink across the tops of three naturally warm pools, set into the floor of this kidney-shaped cavern. Near the entrance the ceiling is high and polished, gleaming with little mineral specks as it sweeps downward into increasingly ragged, uneven steps. The foremost of the pools is squared off with wide steps leading down into the water and has faucets for bringing in cooler water from a rain-catching cistern. Primarily used for laundry, there's an almost constant film of suds along its surface until the circulating current clears it at the end of the day. Four sinks line the nearest wall and various tubs stored beneath allow for the washing of delicates. Laundry bags can be dropped off in the bins near the door and clean, folded laundry is stacked in rows of tall cubbies for easy pickup.

The bend in the cavern leads to a rougher-hewn part of the chamber where the two circular bathing pools welcome those in need of a wash. Towels and washcloths are kept in neat stacks on shelves along the wall, along with sacks of sweetsand and a few bars of precious soap. Stone benches provide a place for sitting to remove shoes and clothing, while a row of gleaming brass hooks stand above, ready to hold clothes and robes.

There are better places to be than naked in the public bathing pools when the senior gold decides to take to the skies in a mating flight and all that dragony lust goes rippling out to impact the unsuspecting bathers of the Weyr. And yet, here is lucky, lucky G'laer, sitting on an inner ledge that keeps him submerged to his mid-torso in one of the two bathing pools. There's towels behind him on the edge along with a sack of sweetsand. But just now, he's got his eyes closed, because maybe just as the lust is striking the unsuspecting might not be the right moment to rise from the pool.

Jadzia managed to find the bathing pools and strip down to nothing shortly before that initial surge of lust. That's not the reason she doesn't cover herself, however, with the towel she's claimed for herself as she walks further into the cavern. That's just her. "Well, well," comes her voice, a little heated, from across the pool when she finds lucky G'laer submerged in just the general vicinity she's decided to inhabit..

If G'laer were easily intimidated, he might gulp. It is a gulp-worthy situation. His eyes snap open at the sound of another voice. Maybe the feel of the flight is making him slow; would he have let his guard down enough to close his eyes in the first place otherwise? His eyes are almost immediately on Jadzia's... face! No, really. Okay, so his eyes might have flicked briefly from face and down to where the water's surface is and what's in between, but that's hardly his fault. "Jadzia." It's bland. No surprise evident in either tone or expression. "What brings you to the Weyr?" It's the next logical question.

She's already moving across the pool to join G'laer uninvited. Or maybe she just figures his acknowledgment of her is invitation enough. "Wouldn't you like to know," is Jadzia's unhelpful response. Even if the greenrider isn't letting his gaze wander too much, the blonde isn't offering him much of the same consideration. She explores his scars openly with those attentive blue-green eyes.

G'laer might like to shift, might like to make those scars less available to her eyes, but he doesn't. It would be a sign of retreat, and G'laer doesn't make a habit of pointing out a possible weakness to exploit to an adversary. Is she that? It certainly doesn't seem like it would be much of a stretch at this moment. His gaze is steady and even and still on her face. Mostly. Okay, maybe one more glance. But he's just looking. Looking's allowed, right? "Yes." He would like to know. No point in pretending otherwise. "Are you going to tell me?"

It's not like she's going to stop him from looking. Jadzia is making herself pretty easy to look at, and there are at least two hints that the lust in the air is affecting her. She must not have ever learned to be one of those modest little hold girls. "Business. I was on business. And I like the pools here so I thought I'd take advantage of them. I didn't expect to find you here, though." She says it like it's a pleasant surprise as she moves to stand directly in front of the seated greenrider. "Lucky me."

Not a modest hold girl? Oh. Damn. So. Sad. Alright, so there's really no point in pretending he isn't looking what with her standing right there and looking like that, so he doesn't. Even with the lust haze in his head, G'laer's training won't let him focus solely on her clues. "I do live here, and it's not like I'm any special rank and have my own private pools. I am wishing I'd picked the hot springs just now." The hot springs that are only accessible by dragon, where she would almost definitely not be. "What kind of business?"

In the water it's an easy motion to straddle the greenrider's lap from where she's standing and Jadzia does so with the confidence of a woman who might not be entirely aware of the flight that's underway above. "My business is my business," she tells him, already distracted by the evidence that throws her theory of his greenrideriness off the ledge. "I had a meeting with a beastcrafter," she attempts to explain. "Breeding season is all too soon." Nope, distracted. "Plans to make."

The fact that there is a flight, not just any flight, but a senior gold flight, underway above is probably the only reason G'laer doesn't make move to prevent the blonde from climbing into his lap. Fortunately for Jadzia and her attempt to keep on topic, her current physical location trumps interest in the reasons for her more general presence in the Weyr. "Jadzia." He's trying for firm, but it doesn't help that his baritone is roughened with obvious desire. "What are you doing?" That's the question that comes out instead of the 'No, stop, get off,' that really should be coming from the exclusively weyrmated rider.

What is she doing? She might even ask herself that later. But right now? Jadzia doesn't have an answer. Right now all she has is the way she presses in against G'laer's body, fingers burrowing into the hair at the back of his head as she leans in to kiss him. That's so much easier, and more satisfying, than dealing with his silly questions.

It would be nice to say that G'laer shoves her off and rises out of the water in a show of flaccid indignation and storms off to find his weyrmate. But nice and G'laer are seldom companions. Maybe if he wasn't predisposed to want this woman, he wouldn't kiss her back with such savagery. His hands find her face and hold her there so he can kiss her. Hold her there? Wait, no, he meant push her just enough away that he can talk. "The senior has risen to mate. This isn't real. What you're feeling. What you're wanting." He can tell himself that, right? "We have to stop." Nevermind the hoarseness in his voice and the shallow breaths he's taking and the racing of his blood to parts of him that call bullshit. Maybe he'll get points for saying so, anyway.

The way G'laer returns Jadzia's kiss does absolutely nothing to dissuade her from rolling her hips against him in a way that's quite explicit about wanting even more. And, when he actually pushes her back to talk, it leaves her looking a little dazed and confused. "No," she protests. "I know what I want. I want you, Gal. And I know you want me." It's a sentiment emphasized by a hand in the water between them as her lower lip is caught between her teeth.

Maybe it will distract G'laer from the fully-clothed man who paused just within visibility through the steam while they were kissing, staring at the pair for several seconds before looking away and turning like he's suddenly lost in the uncomplicated layout of the bathing cavern. Oliwer should probably say something but he doesn't find his voice before he finds his feet.

The hand does distract the greenrider. It keeps him from seeing poor, poor Oli there in the steam. So there's no chance to throw Jadzia into the water and run after the healer. Alas. But the hand does something else that the woman straddling him probably would prefer it didn't: it helps bring G'laer a little more clear-headedness. Not much more, but some. That's not, after all, a familiar hand. "No," he'll answer her, no for no, "You don't want me, Jad. It's wrong now and it was wrong then." Albeit for completely different reasons. He's all too aware of where her hand is though, so there's no sudden moves. His moves to wrap around hers, gently trying to extricate himself. It's a challenge of course, because just because the hand isn't familiar doesn't mean that it doesn't feel good.

Jadzia might usually get agitated by him pointing something like that out to her but right now isn't one of those times. Right now there's only quiet, if not subtle, desperation in the face of yet another rejection. "Don't. Please," she murmurs, resisting his attempt to remove her hand but not so much that he won't be able to manage it. "You don't know what I want." Other than the obvious. "It's not wrong if we both want it." Without ulterior motives, anyway. At least he can be relatively certain she doesn't have any of those right now.

G'laer is in a compromising position. He is compromised. But even with temptation so close at hand, he makes a concerted effort. His fingers do free him of her grasp, with gentle persistence. And it's around that hand that both of his close, drawing it up and to his lips to press a kiss to the back of her knuckles. "I can't, Jad. It's not you. It's never been you." It's always been him. "I'm with someone. I can't do this." He sounds resigned even if his body hasn't gotten the message yet.

The look she gives him is hurt and vulnerable in a way she wouldn't normally allow anyone, most especially him, to see. And even now her gaze shifts away, up toward the steamy ceiling of the cavern, as she tries to pull herself together. Whether Jadzia manages or not is left less clear as she pulls her hand out of his and shifts out of his lap, toward the nearest edge of the pool. She doesn't even say anything as she vaults out, grabs the nearest towel and makes for an exit, only grabbing for her clothes as an afterthought along the way.

It's probably because he's compromised that his emotions play on his face: he feels awful. He even has half a thought to reach after her when she starts to go, but he's not fast enough (for once). G'laer does call, "Jad!" but it's not in a way that suggests he's about to change his mind, even if he does rise from the seat and turn to lean against the wall. He doesn't leave the pool; but possibly only because he doesn't want to have to rebuild Teisyth's straps from scratch. The ones she's holding hostage between her teeth up on the ledge. Oliwer has a stubborn green champion.