Logs:It's a date
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 6 March, 2014 |
| Who: G'laer, Oliwer, Teisyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: G'laer and Oli's first date. |
| Where: High Reaches Weyr and Southern somewhere |
| When: Day 3, Month 3, Turn 34 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: A'rist/Mentions, Baeli/Mentions, Laghnei/Mentions, Owana/Mentions, Rh'mis/Mentions, Reniler/Mentions, Rone/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Back-dated. |
   |
| The last time Oliwer went on something even vaguely resembling a day-long vacation, not counting the rest days he has a hard time staying out of the infirmary for, was possibly never. So when G'laer knocks on the door to his quarters, the healer's, "It's open," might sound a little more frazzled than it really ought to under the circumstances. When the greenrider comes in, since he'll just have to let himself in, Oli is standing at the end of his bed with a small bag packed, but he's staring at it like he just knows he's forgetting something important. His chubby firelizard is quite happy to see G'laer, though, chirping a greeting from where he's sprawled awkwardly on his back on the bed. G'laer isn't often uncertain of himself and now is not one of those moments when he hears the invitation to enter. So the door swings open and G'laer steps inside. Initially the plan was almost certainly to collect Oliwer and go but the greenrider's quick assessment of the situation and Oli's expression and stance has him closing the door behind him before walking toward the healer. "Something wrong?" He questions, glance flicking toward the blue, but he has no apparent food or less surprisingly affection for the firelizard and he stops once he's standing alongside the older man. Oliwer glances over when G'laer closes the door, a flicker of a smile appearing and then fading almost as quickly. "No," he says as his gaze turns back to the bag. "No, I just feel like I'm forgetting something. I can't think what it might be. I don't go out often, so it's probably nothing. I think I'm ready." He says the last as he makes sure the bag is closed properly and then lifts it up to settle over one shoulder. With no food or attention, the blue loses interest in the visitor and goes back to what he was doing before the interruption; napping. The greenrider watches the healer carefully as he makes his answer, but the words have his lips pulling into one of his half-smirks. One hand reaches to touch the small of Oliwer's back, "If it turns out to be something important, we can pop back. Teisyth won't mind." His hand lingers a moment longer and then drops away, "I wasn't sure what sort of somewhere you'd prefer. Do you like hot or cool places better?" The hand at his back seem to relax some part of Oliwer that's still clinging to tension. "She seems... agreeable," says the healer of G'laer's lifemate. "I've about had enough of the cold, but I don't know that I want to go all the way to hot. Somewhere moderate, perhaps?" Somewhere he's unlikely to sweat to death because he's uncomfortable taking off any of his clothes, no doubt. "I'm afraid journeyman isn't the most descriptively accurate of ranks for me. I haven't traveled very much." "I don't think I've ever known her to not be. And she likes you already." The greenrider answers letting smirk slip into small smile. G'laer's expression turns thoughtful as he rocks onto his toes briefly before going back to his heels. For the reserved greenrider, that's practically a 'yipee' of excitement. "Mmkay. I think I've somewhere that will suit. Populated or not so much?" He questions, "Where have you been?" is the thoughtful follow-up. "Does she?" he muses curiously. Oliwer seems to find the idea of a dragon liking him interesting. No doubt he'll think about it more when he's alone again. "I've been to... Fort, really. Some of the surrounding cotholds." The healer considers the other question a little more thoughtfully, uncertainly even, lips parted to answer but no answer forthcoming. Then he admits unhelpfully, "I don't know. Whatever is more comfortable for you, I suppose." "Mmhm. She gives Lythronath shoulder massages. Inspired by our time together." G'laer answers, leaning to bump his shoulder lightly against the other man's. "I've got the perfect place, then. Somewhere new. But you're in good hands." Blue eyes flick to the bag and then back to the healer's face. "Ready?" "Really." It's not really a question but it sounds a little dubious. The idea of a dragon giving another dragon a shoulder massage is a bit outside of Oliwer's scope of understanding. But it seems to amuse him. "Good hands, yes. Quite good. I'm ready." The healer gestures to the door for G'laer to lead on, though he'll stop to lock it behind them. "Yeah," G'laer lets himself sound amused. "He even comes to find her to get them when he wants them. Fortunately, she's very accommodating. Except when she already has a visitor." This is related as G'laer turns for the door, his step not exactly quick, but efficient in getting from point A to point B in relatively swift fashion. The greenrider, if left unprompted, falls silent for the winding walk out of the craft complex and into the bowl. Dressed in his regular, worn riding leathers, they could just be departing on a usual errand run. He offers to take Oliwer's bag, silently, once they've reached Teisyth, who's really the only give away what with the way she's wiggling and having trouble holding still as G'laer makes to secure the bag to her straps. Her eyes are glowing brightly, a merry shade of blue-green as she looks down at the men. If Oliwer has more questions about the dragons, he keeps them to himself for now and simply moves along to follow the greenrider in bemused silence into the bowl. "Hello, Teisyth," the healer greets the green fondly as he lets G'laer take his bag. "Try to be easy on me, hmm? I'm not used to a lot of flying," he adds with a smile. If Teisyth's honk-bugle greeting is a little loud... well, at least she's enthusiastic. The remonstrative look from her rider is probably as much for the volume level as the way the wiggling is making it hard for him to get the bag secured. But only after he's said, "Teisyth," in a way that borders on stern does she manage to make her wiggles limited to her hooked tail. "I'll ask her to do her best. She does enjoy trick flying. Likes showing off, but-" The man pauses to look to the green a moment before looking back to Oliwer, "I'll ask her to restrain herself." And she will, once they're mounted, G'laer offering his hands down to Oliwer once he's up, to help him into the straps in front of G'laer so the greenrider, once they're up, can wrap strong arms loosely around the healer's waist. Between lasts only breaths and when they come out, the air is warm, but not overly so, Rukbat is shining, but there are clouds dotting the blue expanse of sky, and as Teisyth circles down to a careful landing, it's easy to make out the uninhabited stretch of treetops and a blue blue blue lagoon not too far inland from the white-sanded coastline and ocean beyond. Once landed, the greenrider's hands slide up the healer's chest to find the buckles and help undo them. "Will this do?" comes the question as his fingertips work to free the journeyman. Even if he's made it clear that he doesn't do this very often, there's no fear in the way that Oliwer lets G'laer help him mount up. He settles in as well as any civilian might and there's only a brief gasp as they come out of the other side of Between. That will take a lot more getting used to. As Teisyth makes her descent, the journeyman looks down at the spread of blue and white and green below. He's either speechless or he's just being his usual, quiet self. But the greenrider's question definitely gets an answer, "It's... breathtaking. Simply breathtaking." There's actually a low chuckle from G'laer, more or less in the other man's ear as he finishes with the buckles. "I'll take that as a 'yes.'" His hands drag across Oliwer's chest more than is strictly necessary on the way to undoing his own strap buckles in a much more business-like manner. Then he shifts and climbs to the ground, offering up both hands toward the older man, standing ready to help. "One of my sisters showed me this spot when I graduated from guard training. Been back more than a few times over the turns." "I'm sorry. I knew places like this existed, of course. But seeing them is," Oliwer twists slightly to look back at G'laer, looking rather youthful in this amazement at nature, "so much better than hearing about them." Poor, sheltered healer. Once they're both on the ground, Oli's starting to look a little awkward again, not entirely sure what to do with himself like he thinks he ought to be doing something useful. Instead he just tries to wrap his arms around the greenrider and rest his head against G'laer's chest for a few moments. Fortunately, for them both, G'laer seems not to mind this contact, and, in fact, seems to welcome it, wrapping his arms around the healer in turn. After a moment, one hand moves for fingers to find Oli's chin to try to direct it into an upward tilt that will let the greenrider's lips find his. The kiss, if it's welcomed, will go on... until there's warm, wherry scented breath on their cheeks. Teisyth is right there, snout tilted down so she's getting an up-close look at the lip-locking. When G'laer pulls back, he's laughing again, this time more fully and more carefreely. Oliwer doesn't mind kissing the greenrider anymore than the greenrider minds being embraced and so it's not until Teisyth is interrupting them that it ends. The healer's cheeks are flushed and the way that G'laer laughs makes him smile with an affection he's probably been trying not to let get away from him. "I like the way that sounds. You know, they say laughter is the best medicine." This he says like an aside to the dragon rather than her rider. "Sometimes I think there might be something to that." In any other company, the healer's words would probably result in an immediate return to seriousness, but here, now, G'laer just smiles. "She wants her straps off. And she has a funny way of usually getting what she wants." The dragon in question bumps her nose against her rider's shoulder. G'laer briefly presses another kiss to Oliwer's lips, then saying, "Hold that thought," before slipping out of his arms to see to the straps. "So you've really never been anywhere like this?" The greenrider poses the question conversationally as fingers find the buckles that will free Teisyth. As usual, Oliwer seems pleasantly amused by the relationship as he sees between G'laer and Teisyth. His smile is warm as the rider slips away to deal with the straps and Oliwer will just enjoy the rather nice view. "No," he admits. "I've never had much reason to be anywhere like this. I've never had much reason to do anything but work, I suppose." It's a good thing he enjoys his job! "Do you come to places like this very often?" Since he already knows G'laer doesn't have many relationships with other people, it doesn't seem to be fishing for anything like that. "Not terribly," often that is. "When I travel, it's usually to Crom or places that have good hunting or herbs I need." The greenrider's answer comes slowly, but only because he's focused on keeping the straps untangled as he helps the dragon slip them off. "This place," he goes on, "-is more about relaxation than it is about something more functional. But my sisters and I built a little hut near the lagoon to stow our stuff in." So not entirely infrequently. His arms now full of straps, including the bags that were secured to them, he asks, "Up for a short walk there?" That's not his only question though. He follows up with, "So think you can bring yourself to take one day off from that work, or are you planning on giving me a physical while we're here?" There's a teasing lilt to the man's baritone when he asks it. Oliwer watches as G'laer removes the straps and, once they're off, he doesn't try to offer to help carry them. That would probably just turn into a mess. "If I'd had somewhere like this to go, I might have taken more holidays. You built a hut?" Like this is rather impressive. "Of course," he says for the walk, but even he gets a rather playful sort of grin as he adds, "I was rather looking forward to the physical." "Well, you can always make up for lost time," The greenrider suggests as he leads the way down a semi-worn path that is likely toward the lagoon. "The hut isn't really impressive. A lean-to and it leaks in the rain." G'laer dissembles, "I like getting my hands dirty, remember?" Building things falls into the same category as planting things, apparently. It's a few more paces before the brunette looks back over his shoulder, cocking a playful brow, "I'll try not to wiggle too much." "I'm sure it's more impressive than you think," says Oliwer even after G'laer tells him about the leak. "I've never built anything in my life." Apparently stitching people back together doesn't count as building. "And you can try not to wiggle all you want. I'm sure I can still make you do it." Listen to Oli, sounding all sure of himself. "You're on," Because to G'laer that sounds like a challenge. And one certainly worth taking up as far as he's concerned. He flashes Oliwer a smile that's both playful and encouraging. The walk doesn't take much longer. Coming into the clearing around the lagoon, the lean-to really isn't very visually impressive. Just a spot G'laer goes to stow the straps and their bags and duck back out to stroll back over to the healer. "So there's all kinds of things we can do. We can find a spot and just sit, swim, hike, climb trees." That last is said with a teasing curl to his lips. And of course the list doesn't include what the healer's just been challenged to do. Maybe eventually Oliwer will be up to more exciting things. Maybe not. He's a little set in his ways by this point, used to the way things usually are. This, in itself, is pretty exciting as far as he's concerned. So his answer should probably come as no surprise, "The sitting sounds nice, actually. Or walking. Or, maybe, swimming. If the water isn't too cold." He can't really be blamed for not wanting to do anything that might leave him huffing and puffing in an especially unsexy way alongside the younger man. "Alright," G'laer agrees, though to which, it's hard to say. He moves back to the lean-to and has a blanket over his arms when he returns. Not that it's cold. It's pleasantly warm without being oppressively hot, so it must be for sitting on. The greenrider meanders toward the sandy edge of the lagoon and selects a spot to drape the blanket out, gesturing a welcome to the healer before crouching to see to the laces on his boots. Oliwer walks along with G'laer, looking at the lagoon itself as they approach with that weird boyish sort of wonder. He'll probably get used to the view before they leave, at least. Hopefully. "Perfect," he says as the blanket is put in place. He settles down on the edge of it to get rid of his shoes and roll up the end of his pants. "I've never really envied dragonriders before. I think I might, just a small bit, now." The wonder seems to both amuse and please the greenrider. His socks get tucked into the boots and he shifts to settle beside the healer and mirror his movements with his own pants before he's shrugging out of his jacket. "There are downsides, too, but there are also perks." G'laer admits, leaning back just a bit to put his jacket out behind him before he's stretching out on his back. "I never really envied them. I wasn't even upset that I was never properly asked to stand." "How did you come to stand for Teisyth's clutch, then?" If he was never properly asked. Oliwer looks over at the greenrider, quite curious now, though he's also digging his now bare toes into the sand like some unconscious compulsion. "I wouldn't have been able to accept even if I had ever been asked." The greenrider shifts, placing his arms back behind his head, which lets the shirt tighten over his abs. There's a moment of decision for G'laer, then, slowly, "I came under false pretenses." Something about the openness of his repose seems to be hard to pair with the words, so he shifts his arms again to lift himself up onto his elbows, blue eyes studying the healer. "I hunted bounties, in addition to my duties at Crom. Rone had issued some for various reasons, for some Nabolese that had fled their homes. Some were at the Weyr. I came to-- retrieve them." Beat. "That's why the boy who rode the brown who flew Teisyth hates me. He was one of those I was hunting." Beat. "But in this case, it was a mistake." He watches one more moment of silence and then asks, "Why wouldn't you have been able to accept?" The attentiveness with which Oliwer listens makes it pretty clear that he both thinks this story fascinating and exciting. Granted, exciting tends to make him look a little worried and thoughtful. He knew about the boy, sure, but that day is better remembered for other things. "But you remained a candidate? Was that part of it or did you decide that's what you wanted?" For the rest, Oliwer looks away, out over the water, as he leans back against his palms. "My parents never would have allowed it. Even now my father thinks it's ridiculous to be posted to a Weyr. My talents would be better served at the Hall, if anywhere, especially if I'm not going to Master." That last comment has his voice an octave deeper, clearly impersonating his father's voice. There's another moment of silence from the greenrider in which his expression is unreadable. He flexes his forearms against the blanket, pushing himself back up to a seated position, hands shifting into a loose clasp of one another in his lap. "It was a good cover." G'laer says finally, shrugging his shoulders. "I honestly didn't expect to Impress. And if I'd had more success hunting, I'd've bowed out before the hatching, but I still needed to be at the Weyr. For the bounties." Blue eyes turn to find Oliwer's face, his head tilted. "Sounds like your parents are rather close-minded about us dragonfolk. Why did you want to come to the Weyr? Or was it luck of the draw?" Oliwer murmurs some sound of agreement from somewhere in his throat about his parents. Then, "My father has rather strict ideas about how the world ought to be. My mother is... a good woman. They're both good people, really. Misguided, perhaps." The healer glances over to G'laer with a small smile. "Partly luck. I could have turned it down. But I've always been interested in having more first-hand experience. So here I am." Well, not here. But surely the greenrider knows what he means. The smile and the words have the greenrider cracking a small one of his own. "I'm glad." One of G'laer's hands moves from his lap to reach back and cover one of the healer's where it supports him against the blanket. "Always better to try things first-hand." He lets the hand cover for a moment before moving to let fingers trail across the back of Oli's, "Did you grow up at the Hall?" "I will admit that there are some things I have not tried first-hand." No, really? Oliwer? "And some things I don't think I'll ever try. But I don't regret the things I have." He glances back slightly at the fingers against his hand and his smile turns fond. "Mm, yes. I've spent more time in that Hall than any man really should. And my mother is quite disappointed that I haven't had any children of my own to continue the legacy." "Anything you can think of that you'd like to try?" G'laer doesn't look surprised, but he does look interested, fingers continuing to brush across the healer's hand. Then there's further cause for curiosity. There's no preconceived judgement one way or another as he poses this simple question: "Is having children of your own something you want? Or just something she wants for you?" This might simultaneously be the greenrider's way of asking if Oliwer likes girls, too. His hand leaves the other man's but only so he can shift his body closer, letting his leg rest lightly against the healer's. The way that Oliwer's eyes flicker up toward G'laer's probably suggests rather accurately that his first thoughts are not of an innocent nature. And, as such, the healer doesn't voice them. "I'll get back to you on that," he says instead. Something more appropriate might require more thought and less proximity to the greenrider. "I'm an only child," he explains for his mother's sake. "I think she hoped for a lot of grandchildren. But..." He sounds like he might say something personal, glancing down at G'laer's leg against his own. "I've always been so busy." Which is probably the excuse he gives her. And he seems to realize that after he's said it, so he adds in a lower voice, like he might be overheard on this entirely unpopulated stretch of beach, "I've never actually been with a woman like that." His leg shifts against the greenrider's thoughtfully. There's no way G'laer doesn't miss the fake answer for just what it is, but his face doesn't betray any reaction to it. He's just watching Oliwer's face. There's an obvious question that probably should be next, but instead, the greenrider's shifting to raise his arm so that he can rest his forearm on the healer's shoulder, fingertips moving to trace the shell of the other man's ear and down the side of his neck. It's a gesture that's probably meant to be reassuring and intimate, because the question he asks is equally personal: "Were there others before me?" Clearly not women, since he's just said, so that must mean this question is the more tactful way of asking 'am I your first?' It's a gesture that's somewhat distracting to the healer that's so unused to these sorts of interactions. But it's a pleasant distraction, at least. He considers the question before answering it, and it's probably not because he doesn't already know it perfectly well. No, Oliwer is probably trying to decide what it is that G'laer wants to hear. In the end, though, he's honest. "There have been others. Not many. And not for a very long time. But I experimented here and there. It's never been more than that. Nothing like this." The last is said thoughtfully. Not that they're exactly in a relationship here, but it's closer than anything he's dealt with before. So, in a way, the greenrider is his first. If Oliwer had waited to answer in order to riddle out just what G'laer wanted to hear, they might've been here until grubs were picking over their carcasses. The greenrider's simple nod of acknowledgement doesn't serve to shed much light on the matter. Possibly, the gesture which has now morphed into a light sort-of-massage of the healer's neck. "Is handfasting and children what you want? In the end, I mean. Or do you think you could be happy with this sort of pairing in a less than temporary way?" Again, the tone is one of curiosity, not one that suggests he has a "right" answer in mind. Just because G'laer's tone is just curious doesn't mean Oliwer won't try reading into what he's saying. The healer only glances at the greenrider briefly, though, not wanting to disturb that touch. "Settling down and having children has never seemed very appealing to me. I think any desire to do so has been to make my mother happy. I do regret, sometimes, that I'm unlikely to give her grandchildren, that the family stops with me." There's a 'but' coming up, but he must assume it's clear enough what it would be, so he doesn't say it himself. "Something more like this would suit me quite nicely. I doubt they would understand. Probably assume this stint at the Weyr has messed with my head." "Mm, yes. I hear it's contagious. Weyr-madness. I even hear greenriders are known carriers." G'laer maintains a suitably grave tone before turning his head just enough to crack a smile. "There are many who don't understand the draw of this kind of thing." He adds thoughtfully, brow furrowing. "Are you close with them? Would it bother you that they wouldn't approve?" "I've heard that about greenriders," Oliwer plays along, amused. "Close-ish, I suppose. But it's not really any of their business, in the end. They don't need to know about my personal life anymore than I want to know about theirs." No one wants to know about their aging parents' sex lives. "Would it bother you if this continued and I never told them?" "I'm the one with nearly teenage children and an ex-wife that my family only found out about because I Impressed and she couldn't get ahold of me for what she wanted any way but by showing up." G'laer relates, "Do you think keeping private business private bothers me?" The answer is clearly 'no'. But the response can't be so simple, so the counter-question is, "Would it bother you if this continued and you never told them?" Oliwer listens to that like he hasn't really considered it that way. Not that he wasn't already aware that G'laer is a private sort of man. No doubt one of the things Oliwer likes about him. "I don't think so, no. It's probably foolish of me to think they don't already know to some extent. Why else would a man like me never settle down and take a wife? They're probably smarter in that regard them I give them credit for. But I don't think I'll ever explicitly tell them." "Good." This answer seems to sit well with the greenrider. "Not-" He then decides to clarify, "-'good' that--" Only he doesn't seem to know what he's clarifying, "I just mean good that it wouldn't bother you to continue if that's what suits us, regardless of them knowing." G'laer's cheeks hold the smallest touch of a blush. "For some, I suppose, they just never find the right person to bind wrists with." Or hands. Or whatever. That whole marriage thing. "Good," agrees Oliwer with a grin as he gives the greenrider a fond sort of look. As he lays back on the blanket, stretching his legs out and tucking his far arm behind his head, he notes in good humor, "Oh, I don't know. I've heard binding wrists can be a good deal of fun." Then, only slightly more serious, "Some men aren't really interested in any relations at all. I used to think that seemed strange but I more or less turned into one of them. At least until you gave me a reason to be interested." It's only a moment later that G'laer shifts to follow the healer onto the blanket. The greenrider positions himself on his side, body close, but not against the other man's. He leans his head against a propped up elbow so he can still see Oliwer's face. "It can be when there isn't a lifetime of commitment to the wrong person as a consequence." He comments amusedly of wrist-binding, moving his free hand to touch lightly upon the older man's chest. "I'm sure it was my sparkling personality that did it. I get that reaction a lot." This is delivered deadpan but his lips sneak into a half-smirk once the phrase is over. "That is an awfully long time," admits Oliwer, though his demeanor is entirely too cheerful to make that seem very weighty. "Oh, definitely. I don't know how anyone can resist your personality." Well, he's only kind of teasing. He's more biased than he'd probably like to admit. "That and your biceps," he continues, the arm between them moving to squeeze G'laer's arm for emphasis, then lingering because he really is quite fond of those muscles. "I've imagined that it mightn't be so bad if it were the right person, but sixteen turn olds aren't the best judges of such things." There's humor there too, if a little darker in nature. The smile broadens as he glances to the hand on his biceps. "Well, I had to have some redeeming feature, right?" And if it's his muscles, that seems to suit him. "I wish I knew what to tell you next." There's a beat, "I'm not good with disclosing, to anyone. But I feel like I want to. To you." Maybe the idle chatting during massages has trained G'laer too well. "Trust me, G'laer. You have at least several redeeming features." Oliwer's grin is a little cheeky but the flicker of his gaze to the greenrider's lips is definitely meaningful, which he makes even more obvious soon enough. "You don't need to tell me anything until you know for sure what it is. I would take it as a kindness if you'd kiss me, though." The nod of agreement to not push the disclosure issue with unnecessary speed is there, but hardly more than a tip of his head. It's separated from the dip of his head to accommodate the healer's request by angle alone. Just before G'laer's lips meet Oliwer's, there's a murmur from the greenrider, "Careful what you ask for." Because one kiss won't just be one kiss. Not when the day is so temperate and the spot so picturesque. Not that one has to rush these things. They have all day. |
Leave A Comment