Logs:Everything's Better When You're Friendly
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| RL Date: 15 October, 2014 |
| Who: H'vier, Tayte |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tayte makes nice with H'vier. It involves poor judgment. |
| Where: Tayte's Room, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 1, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| OOC Notes: Sex. Back-dated. |
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| Later came, and she told him about Tayre. It was almost like with Tavi, save for the way H'vier reacted to her indifferently-- no, not indifferently, with marked distance. He was here for the baby. That was as it should be, though, so Tayte didn't make a fuss. She let father and son have their time, and then it was time to let the baby nurse and he fell asleep readily enough. That's the cycle at this age. Eat, sleep-- well. The blonde was careful setting him down on the bed, tucking the pillows just how he likes them, and then she's sliding from the bed. "Drink?" she offers the bronzerider, moving toward the dresser already. "No," comes H'vier's possibly unexpected answer, gaze shifting from where Tayre is pillowed on the bed to where Tayte is moving toward the dresser. He watches her for a few moments before rising up onto his feet. Well, it's good that Tayte is fast with the drink thing. Instead of getting a glass, she just uncorks the bottle on top, takes a swig and sets it down before moving to intercept the bronzerider. "I don't like this, Havi. Can't we be-- friendly?" She reaches to touch his chest with one hand, letting her lashes fall a few times attractively. She's even bathed today! Excuse H'vier for seeming suspicious of the woman he's fucked over more times than he'd want to count. "What do you want?" Because that's obviously the only reason she'd want to be friendly with him. Isn't that the only reason anyone is friendly to H'vier? They've known each other a long time. That's probably why Tayte feels it's totally okay to just say, "I want to blow you," in a very direct but sincere manner, her free hand moving to hook fingers around his belt. "What?" He must not have heard her right. Except there are fingers on his belt to emphasize what she said. H'vier doesn't stop the fingers but his brow furrows as he watches her. He should probably just go with it. That's what a sane man would do. But he has to ask, "Why?" "Because I want to," which is very different from being forced to. "Because I still want you. Because love doesn't just vanish." Already Tayte is sinking onto her knees and working at his laces. That H'vier wants to believe that probably helps him not say anything to screw it up. He watches her sink down, but he doesn't move his hands to help her with any of it. That might screw it up as much as him saying something. The fact that he wants her to blow him starts to become pretty obvious, too. But that was probably never really in question. Tayte balances taking her time to enjoy it and the knowledge that Tayre will only sleep for so long and she genuinely doesn't want to leave H'vier hanging (though whether or not he'd let her if the baby cried is probably a valid question too). Certainly her actions line up with her words. She wants this, wants to do this for him, for herself. She knows what she likes and she does those things. When it's over she reaches up her hand in a silent request for his help up onto her feet. She still only gave birth a few sevens back. "Can we be friends, Havi?" Perhaps she means the kind that give and receive blow jobs. Other than a few low, familiar groans, H'vier is pretty quiet throughout. But that's probably mostly for the sake of the sleeping baby. He even lets her more or less do what she wants without a lot of extra help from the big hands that still find their way into her hair. When it's over, he helps her to her feet, but then he sits back down where he'd been, tilting his head back to enjoy the few moments where he can pretend that he hasn't completely ruined his personal life forever. And then, "You shouldn't want to be friends with me, Tayte." Tayte doesn't miss a beat. She steps between his legs (or leans her weight against them if he won't let her), and her hands reach to cup his face, fingers slipping into his scruff and then sliding up and into his hair, gently seeking to direct his face toward hers so she can lean down and kiss him. "I suspect many would agree with you, but it won't stop me from wanting it." She strokes her thumbs across his cheeks. "I think we'll be happier being apart," not in a relationship, "but that doesn't mean we still can't make each other happy from time to time." H'vier spreads his legs for her to fit between and there's no resistance to being kissed. He returns it with a sort of satisfied laziness, waiting until after she's spoken to reach for her so he can try guiding her into sitting in his lap. "I'm looking forward to being able to make you happy." Which would probably sound nicer if he wasn't talking about sex. But, even so, it's not really the worst thing he's ever said to her. Not by half. Even if it were, she'd probably still be sitting in his lap, shifting so she can loop her arms around his neck. "This stays between us, alright? And can we agree not to bring any relationships we might have--" she doesn't really mean relationships where H'vier is concerned, "-to the gi--" she starts out of habit and then laughs at herself. "To the children's attention?" because now there's Tayre to consider. "And we'll try to just-- live and let live?" It's probably a smidge easier for the blonde than the bronzerider. But only a smidge. This is the sort of position that H'vier likes. He wraps his arms around Tayte and enjoys these relaxed moments while he can. He can deal with the lingering suspicion later, on his own time. "Whatever you want," is a pretty stark contrast from his attitude before. Responses like that will give Tayte some wondering of her own, but that's for later. Now she just shifts to lean her head against his shoulder. There, they can stay like this in comfortable silence until Tayre wakes. If they get really daring, they'll stretch out on the bed next to him and Tayte will fall immediately into a doze. Sleep: it's what every mother wants more than the air she breathes. |
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