Logs:Diversions for a Duo
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| RL Date: 6 September, 2013 |
| Who: H'vier, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tayte and H'vier are sort of in a relationship. Or something. They try to sort out if they have anything-- er, any hobbies in common. |
| Where: Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 24, Month 9, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Jo/Mentions, Yvalia/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Adult themes and references. Backdated and played via gdocs. |
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| Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr The peculiar shape of this room suggests that it was unintentionally expanded, cement holding the ceiling together towards the peculiarly shaped alcove build into the back corner. It's larger than most personal quarters as a result, and though the uneven walls mean nothing sits flush, there's plenty of room for more than the usual amount of furniture. The larger lobe of the lopsided kidney shape that the room has might be considered a studio room. A large bed is tucked into the roundest part of the alcove, though there's a gap behind where the straight headboard does not meet the wall. It's piled high with furs and pillows. In this curve there's also a wardrobe, a dresser, and nightstands. Hooks extending from the ceiling over the dresser have been rigged with two layered chain-link that holds a number of bottles of alcohol of different varieties. The highest drawer in the dresser which is bizarrely the largest locks with a key. Opposite it, closer to the door, is a hearth that's had a throw rug and loveseat set in front of it, along with a few low tables. A set of shelves and a small desk sit opposite the curve of the smaller end of the room. Around the curve and into the little lobe, one finds a great change. There's color everywhere instead of the muted things in the front half. Scarves and streamers hang from little hooks installed in the ceiling, their lengths varying, and a crib is set up in the middle with two small boxes that have toys poking out of their not-quite-shut lids. There's a tall table stocked with all the tools a mother needs (well, those that are safe to be at toddler height) and a small dresser and wardrobe. The furniture is all hand-me-downs but in decent enough condition to make the occupants comfortable.
Neither returned healed, of course. Tragedy doesn't simply fade in a matter of days. But life called, and they answered. Tayte asked if she could stay a few days with him, in his weyr, before she faced her room and her old life. A few turned into only one because H'vier's is a man's mancave and there's only so long a neat-freak like Tayte can resist dusting. She spent the first night back in her room alone. The first was to be the hardest, she knew. She managed, though it was a sleepless night. The room was too quiet there on her own. In the morning, she had to start to address life. There were letters to be written and sent. The first was a note to K'del letting him know she was back in the Weyr, that she'd pick Vali up from the nursery that day and they'd talk soon. Then there was more to be done. She'd asked H'vier for the full day and agreed they'd meet the following evening after she'd had a day and night in her life. She'd arranged for Vali to be out. Tayte wanted to see him alone. The room is tidy, though the glow-baskets are low, but a fire in the hearth. Tayte's voice calls that the door is open and she's curled on the couch under a knit throw blanket with a book in her lap, though her eyes are expectantly raised toward the door. It's nice, sometimes, to lose oneself in something relatively mindless. That's how H'vier approached returning to his duties. Taking sweeps from one of Iceberg's wingriders probably won him a few brownie points, too, and Reisoth is the sort of dragon that rather enjoys the time to observe. But the bronzerider comes to Tayte later that evening, hair still slightly damp from a bath. Closing the door behind himself, H'vier enjoys the view of the woman comfortably curled up on the couch for a few moments before he offers her a small smile and cross over to sit beside her. "Hey," The word is soft with affection, and Tayte has a soft smile for H'vier as he approaches. Her hands move to place a cloth ribbon in between the pages of her book, and she sets it aside, reaching to the same small table where there's a pair of wineglasses. The empty one is taken up with the bottle and she pours him a drink, offering it over before topping off her own glass. "You look clean," She observes, though with a certain note that indicates that pleases her. Clean is nice. "How was today?" H'vier seems to like watching Tayte to simple little things like marking her book and pouring wine. He lifts a hand to run through his hair when she points out his cleaness and it trails down to rub absently over his short beard. "Long, seemed like. But I figured you'd want me to wash off all the dust before I came over. You?" he asks the last after an experimental sip of the wine. "I bathed earlier," Tayte's teasing in her purposeful misinterpretation, leveling a playful look at him over the rim of her wineglass. She takes sips of her wine before she shifts closer to the bronzerider, rearranging the blanket with her free hand and letting her feet swing to the floor. "It's been long, too." She answers. "Last night was rough. Vali kept waking afraid I needed help and she needed to run for it." The woman looks weary, her head shaking. "I think it'll be awhile before things get back to normal." "A shame I missed it," returns H'vier with an affectionate sort of grin. If only everyone he's ever punched could see him now. It's kind of pathetic. Especially as he moves an arm to try moving around her in some comfortable fashion when she shifts closer. Unfortunately his smile is somewhat short lived since he's not sure how to respond to the rest of what she says. "I wish I could help," he says, aware there's not a whole lot he can do and not, for the moment, willing to insist that there is. "Things will get back to normal, though. They will." At least as normal as it is for either of them to be monogamous. "Oh, no, we don't need you seeing that. I have products enough in my bathing tote that I could make a man's head explode just by looking." Yes, she's one of those women. With the ridiculously long bathing routine. But maybe that's why her skin is so soft and her hair so shiny. "Some things are better left as mysteries, I think." Tayte leans against him, comfortably under his arm. "But I suppose if we were to find our own private bathing pool somewhere in a few sevens when I'm allowed to roll around with you under the covers or-- wherever -- maybe I could give you a glimpse. See how much of the long process you can wait before you have to do something because I'm naked and wet." It's easier to talk, even joke, about sex than it is to talk about the real things. The trouble with reintegrating, with figuring out how to make everything fit together again when things became so broken. H'vier might have said something about the lengthy bathing routines dragons require at times but he's much too distracted by Tayte talking about being naked and wet and mostly naked. "A few sevens is going to feel like forever," he murmurs, already shifting himself just at the thoughts she's already planted in his head. "I should take you to one of the beaches around Ista. The ones it's hard to get at without a dragon. You'd be gorgeous against all that dark sand." Not that she's not anyway, of course. But don't mind him. He's fantasizing. "Sand," Tayte answers with amusement, "-is a decision I've already learned to regret. Even a blanket on sand is-- questionable." But for all that, "I do love Istan beaches. Have I told you about my bikini collection?" It's immense. But then there has to be a moment of seriousness. She reaches to tug a hand through her hair self-consciously. "You know, Havi, if you-- wanted to be with other women while I can't, I'd understand." She says it with resolve, though she bites her lower lip just a little while she watches his face, twisted now to look up at him. "I mean, I can do other things for you." But... their usual 'thing' is off the table, courtesy of the healers' rightful concern for infection. "Sand washes off," is his response to anything negative about the stuff. "I think I'd like to see this collection sometime." The seriousness isn't necessarily expected and H'vier tilts his head to look down at Tayte. He may not be very experienced with relationships but he can tell a trap when he sees one, whether it's meant as one or not. "Don't be foolish. You're the woman I want. And I'll wait if that's what I need to do." Which is easy to say with her sitting right here, of course. But she's not really helping him think about anything other than the other things she could do for him. Trust that he has a vivid imagination. "There are plenty of things we can think up, I imagine. I'm not so old I don't remember being a horny teenager." The last is said with a grin. "It's not the off I'm worried about, it's the out." Of all the tiny places and inside places it can get when one isn't extremely careful. Tayte winces at some memory of this less than pain-free experience. Then she wrinkles her nose, looking up at him, "This isn't a trap." True, he didn't say so outloud, but she feels the need to say. "This is my first time trying to be monogamous, so it's not like it would be really very much different than any other time, only that I'm not getting laid also. But just because one of us isn't doesn't mean both of us don't need to be." It's a compelling argument, right? It might still be a trap, of course. But he might not have long to dwell on that, or that she says, "If you do decide you want to, just-- let me know before it happens so I'm not surprised after, alright?" Because as soon as that's out, she's saying. "There's plenty of things I haven't bothered to show you I can do with my tongue, for example." H'vier thinks about it before trying to verbalize his feelings on the idea of being with someone else. And the fact that it would leave him open to her being with someone else. That's really the root of the issue. But there she goes again distracting him with ideas. "I don't know why I'd think about anyone else when I can just come here and..." his voice trails off. Tayte rolls her eyes. She might think of pointing out the practicalities of the facts of life: that he can't just come here always, because she's not the only one who lives here. Only, that doesn't seem the best choice of conversation topic when there's that hanging suggestion she's only too willing to oblige. It probably wouldn't be a very good argument right now, anyway, if only because H'vier's mind is very not in the right place to argue. There's a certain point you can get a man to where he'll agree with almost anything for more. And H'vier's point seems to be easy to get to where Tayte is concerned. Once it's over, the bronzerider's head is tilted back like he's too relaxed to hold it up, catching his breath, until he lifts it again as she settles into his lap with a satisfied smile of his own. "You are fucking amazing," he murmurs and the arm that wraps around her tries to pull her closer for a kiss that is maybe supposed to convey some sort of gratitude. Tayte's smile turns beaming before she's lost in the kiss. Before things can get too heated, though, she pulls away, still smiling. "Well, I try. But even I have limits," Woe. "I'm not sure I could spend an entire night doing that. Physically. My jaw would probably give out." Which might speak to her willingness or want to do that for an entire night by the lack of mentioning any limits beyond the physical. "I think people in relationships-" Which, they sort of are now, right? "-usually do things together besides that kind of thing. And since we have some limits for now... maybe we ought to think about things we can do together." She purses her lips, idly playing her fingers along the scruff of his short beard as she thinks. "Obviously, we can drink together. But I think some would call us unbalanced and unhealthy if all we ever do together is drink and have sex." Although, her look says she thinks that sounds like a pretty good time. "Do you play cards? Knit?" She must surely be teasing about the latter, her lips curling into an impish close-lipped smile. H'vier isn't really the sort of guy that's used to talking to women about anything other than work and sex, admittedly, but it's much easier to settle in under her and enjoy the closeness. "I wouldn't have thought me needing some down time would be a fortunate thing for you. But maybe it is, hmm?" He's definitely not a teenager anymore. "Am I not allowed to do anything for you yet?" He considers the rest, and obviously thinks that sounds like a pretty good time, too, judging by his expression. "I play cards sometimes, sure. I've never even considered knitting," he adds the last with a grin. "How does oiling and mending leather sound?" "Today," Tayte concedes with a warm smile. "I think the healers would prefer nothing, but specifically, the instructions were nothing inside." So there's some possibilities there of things he could do for her. "Only that might just want me make want more." She weighs, half-playful, but definitely with a note of seriousness. She settles her head against his shoulder, but far enough away that she can still comfortably look up at him to grin at his words about knitting. "Well, it's very relaxing. But you might have trouble with some of the finer manipulations." Big fingers tiiiny loops. "Mm, my favorite." She jokes with a roll of her eyes. "Sounds like a dragonrider hobby if there ever was one." She's thinking again. "Do you only fight in bars or do you like sparring?" Mmm. H'vier can at least look forward to returning the favor at some point in the future. And, you know, getting more of what he got tonight. "If you asked me, you should always want more." But for now he'll focus on the things that have nothing to do with sex. "Kind of a necessary hobby. So I'm not sure if it's just work at home or a real hobby. I think a lot of us end up trying more than just straps. I tried making cuffs once. Which are kind of just smaller straps, I guess," he muses. Then his gaze refocuses on her from its thoughtfulness and he says, "I used to do some prize fighting at Ista, actually. When I was younger. Sometimes it sounds like a good idea to try it again but I'm not as stupid as I used to be, I like to think." And yet he still ends up getting punched in the face a lot. "I sparred with the weyrlings, mostly. Most of them don't come in knowing anything." But that was also back at Ista. And he's here now. She didn't ask him, but her smile says she likes the voiced opinion. Tayte nods, "Makes sense. Sometimes I wonder that about my booze collection. If that's not just me taking work home with me." She sighs and stretches a little before resettling. "I suppose I'll have to be getting back to my research." Her nose wrinkles a little. Work. Even if it is work with booze. "Prize-fighting," is that... does she sound intrigued? Impressed even? "Then I guess that makes you too dangerous for me to spar with." She leans to press a kiss to the meeting of jaw and neck. "I haven't been able to find a sparring partner here yet. I keep sleeping with the promising ones. You. Jo." And apparently sleeping with and sparring with are mutually exclusive - at least so far. "There's not really a good spot for it here, either." She makes a little face at that. "I think you'd probably have an edge on me, actually. I'd be scared of accidentally hurting you somehow." It's almost like this is something that H'vier is just realizing actually means something to him. The idea of accidentally hurting people isn't honestly something that usually bothers him. His uncertainty might even show on his face as he considers that. "You aren't still sleeping with her, are you?" is what he takes away from that, unsurprisingly. "Maybe you can spar with the new weyrlings. I think I'd like to watch that, actually." "Yeah?" Tayte asks with a little laugh, "Well, to be fair, I'd probably not like to go up against you in a fight because you might accidentally hurt me." She grins. "You mightn't have noticed, but you're kind of big and strong." Apparently, she needs to illustrate by shifting enough that she can run her hands across some of those muscles, his arms and across his chest. "Have you ever thought of giving up shirt completely?" She muses, expression feigning seriousness. "I haven't been, although I suppose I could be. It's not like we're on poor terms. I haven't seen her since she dropped me off at Southern. She'd seemed busy before I left and I didn't want to bother her, and I didn't know what we were doing, and--" It was complicated. So she raises the question, "Should I still be sleeping with her? Or not be?" She thinks then, about his suggestion, "I guess it depends on if they're any good and worth sparring with. I don't bruise up my face for just anyone." "I'd offer to take it off but I'm not sure you'd be able to control yourself if I did." That's obvious teasing. Except for the hint that H'vier might think he's somewhat irresistible to women of a certain persuasion. "It's harder to be shirtless all the time in a place like this. It was easier at Ista." It's pretty obvious that the bronzerider misses what he still seems to think of as home. As for Jo, H'vier frowns. On one hand, it's kind of hot. On the other hand, Tayte is his. He doesn't want to share. "Not unless she's into a threesome. Might be different if I fucked guys." But he doesn't. Well, not outside of flights, anyway. "Yeah, I've found that too." Tayte's probably joking. Her, shirtless, all the time... It's a joke, right? "I won't admit to any such weakness. You could always try it and see." Because there's a better chance of his shirt coming off if she feigns innocence. She gives an experimental tug at the shirt to see if he's going to stop her from helping him out of it. It's a safe bet that after turns of observing him hit on things that move that Tayte knows it's only things with breasts. "I'm not sure I'd want you and Jo in the same bed with me." Though she doesn't explain why. "You know, Jo already has a bronzerider." Not that H'vier and Tayte's Not-Really-But-Sort-Of-A-Relationship-Maybe is the same as Z'ian and Jo's surely more meaningful something. "But I guess that's fair. Since you don't fuck men." She purses her lips a moment, "I will miss breasts." She does say with a touch of sulkiness. H'vier does nothing so silly as trying to keep her from getting him out of a shirt. He helps quite eagerly. Besides, he probably likes when she touches his bare skin. Who wouldn't? "Well, you're welcome to be shirtless whenever we're alone." Like now, maybe? Surely he won't do more than enjoy the view. And maybe touch the view. "It can't be that hard and fast if she's sleeping with other people. Or were you with both of them?" He doesn't like that idea. But breasts win out. "How can you miss them when yours are so nice? Anyway, I might be okay with, you know, supervising you and another woman." He's so generous! And touch his bare skin is just what she was planning to do. So once the shirt's off, there's no delay. Although, it does mean she's too distracted to do anything about her own shirt. "No, nothing like that. Actually, I've never even met him. Though I do hear interesting things." Tayte always hears interesting things. One of the perks of bartending, though surely her information is out of date by now. "Mine aren't the same as having others to play with. You wouldn't understand." So she doesn't try to explain. He lacks a baseline for enjoying members of the same sex. "And supervising?" Tayte could say a lot more, but let's see where he goes with this. Maybe he saw and called another trap for what it was, but can he tell when he starts digging a hole? He's distracted by her touch, too, but not so much that he can't at least slip a hand under her shirt. "I've heard that skin to skin contact is healing," he notes suggestively. And then, "I wouldn't say I don't understand entirely. Another hand always feels better than my own." If you know what he means. To the rest, he thinks for a moment, but nods. "I mean, if you want to be with other women, I don't mind so much if I'm there. It might be nicer to join in on the fun. But I think I can manage taking care of myself and just watching instead." "I know what you mean," Tayte does admit to the liking the feel of someone else's hand to her own. "I like touching you." She murmurs, and there's a look on her face that suggests there's something she might say more, but that has her conflicted enough to not. Surely, there's more discussion to be had about just what this supervisory role entails and how it's different from Tayte going off on her own, but all that has to wait until the issue of liking to touch one another has been thoroughly explored. |
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