[PRP]What Happens in Yokohama STAYS in Yokohama[A'iel/T'mor]

[ShinosBee]

Nasath had just barely pulled up from snaring Phylideth high, high, high above the clouds, his lust breaking off abruptly into a rather embarrassed twist of sheepishness and then disappointment as in the meantime Vimiath had twined herself with Blundarth, leaving the rest of them fruitless and alone.

The flame of want had not been so easily snuffed out for A'iel though. At the peak of his bronze's elation, just as he'd pierced the stormhead thinking he was about to catch his queen, A'iel had felt himself inside his dragon. Except his claws had already grasped onto his treasure. They'd been looking for Tally's weyr, but instead he'd tugged T'mor back around, fire and want burning in his eyes, and with surprising determination pulled the other man close, between himself and one wall of the hallway, driven to catch and hold and keep just like his bronze had been. By the time Nasath had gone skittering away from the brown A'iel had lost himself, the need alive with its own momentum now that it had been unleashed, and after a quick heady kiss (delayed only slightly when he'd belated realized he was too short to reach the man's lips even on tiptoes and had to try to pull him more down to level) he'd been unstoppable in his efforts to direct them back up the way they'd come, seeking blindly, desperately, for either of their weyrs...

Well, apparently they'd found T'mor's, A'iel now realized some hours later as he stared up at the stone ceiling. The grooves and ridges in it were unfamiliar, and the subtle texture of the bedding, the native scent, were not ones he knew intimately. Or at least, not in that sense of the word. He could feel Nasath's irritation across the bowl where the bronze had coiled up on his own ledge, alone and grumbling and staring across at Phylideth's ledge. Sensing his rider's awareness, the bronze must have snorted or lurched, something, because A'iel felt a surge of energy. A moment later wingbeats had echoed in through the doorway to Phylideth's perch, followed by a heavy landing—the bronze's wings ached, and he was exhausted from the night's efforts. He should have stayed put...but apparently his desire for his rider had been kept at bay only so long as A'iel had been asleep.

Unfortunately, knowing Phylideth, the brown would not be pleased at seeing his rival up close and personal so early in the morning. "T'mor, are you awake?" The realization that he'd fallen into bed with his wingleader was slow in coming, but left his entire face flushed bright red. Outside, Nasath was doing all he could to get around the (still dozing? Faranth be merciful...) brown and get his head into the doorway.

A'iel, mine, why've you done this?! Phylideth kept her from me, and now you're with his! Miiine! The bronze's whines were punctuated with actual whines, crooning that was definitely audible, and frankly a bit much this early in the morning.

demon_pachabel

 

[demon_pachabel]

Phylideth had not been a happy brown - for many reasons, but most of them had been the screeching of SHE WAS MINE, SHE WAS MINE, THEY ALL GOT IN THE WAY, SHE WAS MIIIINNNEEE that had practically rattled the inside of T'mor's skull, numbing out most thoughts that would have been reasonable. Thought that perhaps would have dragged him out of Phylideth's mind as it had been before Vimiath and Blundarth had begun to fall together.

Wants - or perhaps needs by this point - made T'mor ever so agreeable to A'iel's in turn, practically growling into the needy kiss and needing very little motivation to move into it, or off up the stairs from where he'd literally tumbled down practically into his Wingsecond's arms. T'mor wasn't going to be the particularly shiniest treasure (okay, if you could look past the scar and the broken nose, maybe he could be), but he had his...very practical uses.

Not that he was sure if he'd put any of them to use. He'd been kind of enjoying playing at being big spoon a little bit when the wound aggravation of the brown that was settled on his ledge thundered through his head. Mine. You have Nasath's in your bed. Get him out. He rumbled physically and shifted in his spot, eyes whirling between orange and red as he eyed the pair of them, extending his head out to grab the corner of the bedding and yank it off unceremoniously before snapping at T'mor's foot.

T'mor kicked his brown in the face.

"Yeah, I'm up....," he hissed out loud, not exactly ready to see the sun and also - oh. He barely looked out from under his arm to notice exactly who it was he'd curled up with. Was this awkward? It could have been, maybe, if T'mor didn't have a brown currently trying to pull him out of his own bed. For those who didn't know better, it would look like Phylideth was being a particular pest. T'mor wouldn't be admitting anytime soon that he was actually awful at getting out of bed and Phylideth just kind of...did this on the regular.

He'd been pulled halfway onto the floor before Phylideth's head suddenly snapped up and he began to hiss with displeasure at the dragon landing on his ledge. OFF!! OFF! THIS IS MY LEDGE! OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!! he screeched, possibly bellowing loudly enough to have woken up anybody else who probably didn't want to be awake after the night's...festivities. "Phyphy, leave it be," T'mor said in the same terse dad-tone he used during drills - though it perhaps had a sharper edge when aimed directly at the brown that looked as though he was trying extremely hard to figure out the best way to just....push Nasath off.

T'mor ran both hands down his face, looking about as awake as Phylideth was happy right then. "I need klah. Do you need klah?" he asked A'iel, as if completely avoiding the fact they were both kind of naked in his bed.

ShinosBee

 

[ShinosBee]

It was the sudden chill of the furs being torn away that snapped A'iel out of his rather dazed state of musing. He'd been frankly enjoying being the little spoon (though he'd already resolved that the next time anything like this happened that he'd find a way to be the big spoon) and had been slowly working back over the night's admittedly hazy events... And then T'mor was kicking at his brown, being dragged half off the bed (and A'iel slightly across the mattress with him!) before...

Before the wingsecond could reply to his wingleader's offer, Nasath let out a rattling hiss as well, and then shoved forward. He shouldered at the brown, wedge-shaped head thrusting into the gap of the entry way to creel like a hatchling at his nude-but-for-a-blush rider. Why His? Why not anyone else's? A'ielmiiiine! He wants me to leave, wants to keep me away from you! I won't let him rider-nap you Mine! The bronze could see his rider still clutched to Phylideth's side, and he hissed at the other man before he felt his own rider's sharp reproach, and the sound twisted into a pitiful plea for what he wanted--forgiveness, or his person.

Oh why don't you go chase a green, Phylideth. Much more your speed!

A'iel meanwhile had forced himself to roll over, eyes meeting T'mor's with a strange awkwardness, not at all like the usually confident, almost proud young man he carried himself as.

"Klah sounds great, " he wheezed before clearing his throat properly. "Uhm, wingleader..." Should he apologize? Not apologize? Perform a strange ritual? It was very hard if you had never been in this situation before. And A'iel, if he were honest to himself, had definitely never been in this sort of situation before at all. Ever

demon_pachabel

 

[demon_pachabel]

As Nasath shoved his way in, Phylideth also hissed and attempted to shove his head in as well, making all manner of horrid angry noises as he did so. He didn't actually have an intelligent argument to make, he just wanted to make enough noise so Nasath was drowned out. Not that a mental conversation could actually be drowned out by the amount of ruckus the brown was making. T'mor just watched him with a frown, folding his arms and sighing as his shoulders slouched.

Oh whatever, I flew better than you did! And I didn't mistake a brown for a gold,Phylideth emphasized the last part, then seemingly remembered he was the brown in that equation and just snarled again and shoved his head in further to appeal to T'mor. I'm right, right? I'm right!! Phylideth insisted and T'mor ran a hand down his face again. "Phy, you're going to get your head stuck there with Nasath's if you do that." he stated simply -and quite frankly out loud as a warning to all parties involved.

Phylideth responded by trying to buck Nasath with his shoulder.

T'mor, on the other hand, didn't worry about the dragons past that. He'd worry about the bike when they'd crashed it into a tree, or something like that. Instead, he turned his attention back to A'iel with a shrug and a half smile. "Well, we're off to an exciting morning, now aren't we?" he said casually and seemingly unbothered. "How do you like your klah, A'iel? I'll get you some," it wasn't an offer, but a stated fact that he was going to do this.

But there was an unfinished thought in the air; "I may need you to finish your thought out loud to guess what it is."

ShinosBee

 

[ShinosBee]

Of course as soon as Phylideth also tried to get his head in, Nasath tried to turn and hiss at him. It really was only a matter of principle, right? He wasn't going to back down to a brown! Especially not one who as trying to get in between him and his rider! Maybe he could just shove his head against Phylideth's, and push him and...It really only was a matter of time until they got tangled up. One of Nasath's wings flapped out, whapping noisily (if harmlessly) across Phylideth's back. Pfft, I didn't do that either! I was totally flying after her, you just jumped in the way! And she didn't even pick you! If she'd seen me you know she'd have picked me! It honestly was just a horrible tantrum. Two six-year-olds who'd both wanted the same toy, and fought over it so long that someone else had come and taken it. And of course they both still blamed the other.

A'iel had thrown an arm up over his face at some point. His ears and neck peeking out still were bright red, but all he could do was shake his head for a moment. He was a wingsecond now, considered capable and mature and...and what was happening? He felt a sour twist of shame at his dragon's behavior, though T'mor didn't seem bothered. Faranth, but he respected the man, if this was common for him, and he still made it work.

"Uhm...plain's fine. I usually take it a bit cold, to be honest..." He forced himself to sit up, and pushed his eyes to meet T'mor's rather than go darting away. If this was inappropriate, he'd face the consequences head on and like a man. It didn't seem like it though? T'mor hadn't reacted badly, or seemed upset, especially not compared to their dragons. "My thought wasn't important," He finally added, deciding to disregard his worries. "Just still a bit unused to this level of...Benden only had the one gold, and she rose rarely. So." A shrugged (bare) shoulder. It'd be a bit awkward to admit it'd been his first time fully giving into the flight lust, but...well. T'mor's probably got the feeling it was, he imagined. It took practice to build up skills, after all.

Across the room, Nasath had shifted to trying to use his headknobs to keep Phylideth's head back and out of range.

"...You didn't have any fragile items or furniture that couldn't be knocked over out there, did you? Nasath, honestly...!" He frowned deeply at the bronze, who instantly wilted, trying to pull back and get out of the way like his rider wanted...but it was a tight fit to begin with, and well... Phylideth you're too big for a brown! Move! I need to...!

demon_pachabel

 

[demon_pachabel]

T'mor continued to look over the two dragons, a small frown creasing his face. "You two can hiss, spit, and fight all over my ledge, but-" he turned his attention sharply to Phylideth, "You will be a good host as long as A'iel is here, Nasath is our guest and you will behave" his tone was extremely sharp, perhaps to cut through the layer of bratty-padding that Phylideth had around his ability to understand instructions before he turned his attention on Nasath, "and I'd like it if you behaved as well. You two are bound to get stuck if you keep fighting," his tone was much less sharp, but he still sounded like the friend-dad that was laying down the rules of his household.

Even if it was perhaps too late.

"Plain it is," T'mor nodded as he sorted through the scattered arrangement of clothing across his floor, pausing as he followed it back to...."We left the door open," he stated matter-of-factly and closed it without any shred of embarrassment. As he determined what was his and what was A'iels, he tossed what wasn't his onto the bed and his...kind of wherever. Except for his pants, those he pulled on so he wouldn't have to just walk around his weyr naked. Not that there were any secrets at that point. It was just a little chilly.

Phylideth hissed at Nasath when T'mor's back was turned, working on getting klah going, smacking a wing back against the bronze as he tried to jerk his head back. It didn't budge. Look what you did! You should have just kept your head out of my weyr! The tantrum drew T'mor's attention when he returned to his bed, handing a cup over to A'iel. "You can leave it to sit until it's the temperature you....." he paused mid sentence to look at the two dragons, brows raising.

"Well. How long should I leave you two like this." He took a sip of his klah at the end of the thought, seeming to be seriously considering that question.

ShinosBee

 

[ShinosBee]

The longer A'iel was awake, the more like himself he felt. T'mor clearly wasn't bothered that they'd fallen in together, for any reason, and he himself hadn't had a bad time at all...as far as he could remember. Lots of limbs and heat and friction...it was mostly a heady blur though, and he shook his head. Well, at least he thought it'd gone well. Hopefully he hadn't done anything too clumsy.

He snared his soaring tunic out of the air, tugging it on and running an hand through his blond hair to de-muss it. Trousers came next; he didn't bother to do up the belt or tuck in anything. There was nowhere to rush off to, and he was taking his cues from T'mor on the level of formality the moment called for. He managed not to blush as their hands touched when he was handed the klah, though he also wasted no time at all in sipping from it, despite the steam still rising. Ah. Yes. It really was quite hot. Inside the cavern of his mouth the young man's tongue curled, singed slightly, though he gave little outwards expression of the mistake aside from setting the mug aside to cool just a bit longer. It was certainly what he got for letting himself be so distracted.

He really couldn't help it though. Goodness, it'd just registered that T'mor had said they'd left the door open! Well, at least with the state of the weyr during a goldflight, no one would have minded any...ruckus. Honestly he reasoned, it was almost a surprise that only the two of them had ended up here. He had a lot to think through, himself, but then the dragons got stuck, and... Before he could stop himself, a literal snort of laughter slipped out of A'iel. He clapped a hand over his face a beat later, ears gone bright red, though his shoulders were still shivering with laughter. "W-what a, a mess! Honestly, T'mor, I'd been feeling a bit down but now I think it's for the best neither of them caught that gold!" Nasath creeled at that, though he was only saddened for a moment before Phylideth's thrashing made his own efforts to get free redouble. "Maybe if we leave them that way long enough they'll get over themselves."

He climbed to his feet, taking up his mug again and moving around the bed to see just how well stuck the two were. "That or they'll rip the door frame right out of the stone."

demon_pachabel

 

[demon_pachabel]

"I don't think Phylideth is ready to have a gold in his grips," T'mor agreed, and Phylideth kreeled piteously at him for his utter betrayal. She was mine! I had her! But then Blundarth- She chose Blundarth, Phylideth. Perhaps next time. You did fly magnificently, after all. T'mor allowed the brown his ounce of praise, which seemed to settle him, if only briefly. Then he began to kreel louder. After all, he was stuck now. With Nasath of all dragons! It was the worst thing ever!

T'mor took another sip of his klah.

"I can always hang up a curtain if they break my door." he stated firmly, "though I may have a few things to say about that if that's how they solve this problem. If they pull the door right out, they may still be stuck anyways...." T'mor was heavily considering the situation, continuing to sip at his beverage of choice thoughtfully. Certainly, the night had been full of it's own brand of excitement, however, the Wingleader just laughed at the scene right there in waking hours in his own weyr. "Should we leave them and go get breakfast?"

NO!

ShinosBee

 

[ShinosBee]

"Honestly breakfast right now sounds great. And I don't wonder if, left with no one to complain to, they won't start trying to work together." Where were his boots? Had he...? Oh. That's right. He'd been in socks at best when he'd gone staggering about last night. Well, that was fine.

Nasath, of course, began to creel all the more pitifully, like a kicked canine or something. Mine, my A'iel, you wouldn't! You wouldn't leave me like this, it's so undignified and it's Phylideth and—

"And you're the one that started it, Nasath! T'mor if they break your door I'll help to pay for it. Honestly I expected more of them both...even if they really did do a good job. Vimiath certainly had her pick of the weyr, that's for sure." So many had flown. And Blundarth of them all had won! Who would have thought? Still, it felt like a good thing. Who knew just how many flights Vimiath or Blundarth would have left in them, thanks to thread and time. "We'll have to see what comes of that." He did worry if the pair had been able to make it back alright. And land safely...

"So, about that breakfast? Think we'll see any other interesting pairs...?"

demon_pachabel

 

[demon_pachabel]

"If they break the door, I'm making both of them fix it," T'mor stated sternly, then took another sip of his drink. It was the worst thing Phylideth had ever heard, and he kreeled just as piteously as Nasath did at the idea that his T'mor, his chosen was just going to leave him like this!

"I think Breakfast is going to be a mix of pairs that have been established to each other for a long time and a few...awkward couples that weren't expecting to wake up with each other and now have to settle to that fact," because based on experience, that was exactly what it was almost every time. There was also the third category of 'Well that was fun, time to move on', but they sort of fell into the first category in terms of behavior.

The more he thought about it, however, the more Phylideth kreeled and the impending tantrum boiled up inside of the brown. T'mor! Taimor! Why? Don't leave me like this! Not with him! This isn't my fault! I didn't do anything wrong! Taimor! TAIMOR!! Phylideth appealed to his full name and T'mor sighed, reaching out to place a hand on the brown's jaw. "Enough. If you behaved so unsightly during Wing Drills because you had to stand next to Nasath, I'd be disciplining both of you. You two have to deal with this yourself, and keep in mind if I have to come wrangle your heads out after breakfast, I'm keeping both of you in a formation where the only ones you can get hurt during threadfall because you act like this is yourself."

It was a warning to both dragons and in a way a heads up to his Wingsecond as well. Just so he knew what the plan was.

"Better take a long breakfast so these two have time to free themselves," he sent a sharp pointed mental jab at Phylideth who wilted and kreeled again before knocking his side against Nasath's. This is your fault!

ShinosBee

 

[ShinosBee]

A'iel's eyes narrowed, catching into what T'mor meant, and agreeing. It really was a shame. He'd been so proud of Nasath for working with him to make it to Wingsecond...but honestly, if this was how he planned to behave...It didn't feel right to think that his wingleader's brown was also perhaps not worth his rank, and it really was none of his concern either. Better to focus on what he could fix, and that was Nasath. They were going to have words later, that was certain. Even if Phylideth did goad the bronze into trouble, he ought to be above such things! He could feel the bronze reaching out mentally, but he rebuffed him, a staunch wall of disapproval and embarrassment there to meet Nasath's pleading grasp.

"Sounds good to me. Honestly, I could use a bit of a break from them, too." He firmly ignored the bronze's increasingly frantic creeling and scrabbling, turning his back to the mess and, with a last check to be sure he was as dressed as he could be (given his missing boots), gestured for T'mor to lead the way. Dragon issue aside, he hoped they'd fall, perhaps, into that third category that T'mor hadn't mentioned, but that they both knew of. He wasn't really unhappy with how the night had gone...but he also was certainly not what he'd consider a planned pair with the other man. Their shared plight of their dragons would do wonders to bridge any awkward gap though, he hoped. No harm, no foul, right? Though then again, he didn't really have any past encounters to fall back on to gauge how well this was going.

Once his rider was out of sight, both physically and mentally, that wall of denial still firmly in place in A'iel's mind, Nasath sagged. Even Phylideth's bump and quip went more or less unnoticed. How could he disappoint his A'iel like that? Sure, Nasath had confidence in spades...but only because he had A'iel! In that moment, his feud with Phylideth seemed so...small. Pointless. So what if some (upstart, hatchling-minded, disrespectful) brown's rider had slept with his? And stolen "his" gold? And basically dared to think he was better than Nasath? What mattered was that A'iel thought Nasath was better! And right now...right now, he certainly didn't.

With slow, almost depressed movements, the bronze resumed tugging and twisting, trying to work himself free, all the while silently ignoring Phylideth, and mentally pleading at the still-sealed door to his rider's mind.

demon_pachabel

 

[demon_pachabel]

In similar fashion, T’mor built up a mental wall that was entirely disappointment and fatherly chiding. It wasn’t anything that Phylideth hadn’t banked against previously - he was an actual brat, after all, and if he’d chosen anybody but T’mor the brown would have likely been a menace to the Weyr more than he was. But now T’mor was disappointed and he was stuck with Nasath and everything was bad.

So he started his next course of action; to whine. Not so Nasath could hear, but for T’mor. T’mor scratch an ear as he closed his weyr door up behind himself and A’iel and started down the stairs. “I kind of brought this on us too,” T’mor admitted with a frown. “And I apologize that with myself and Phylideth that I carry most of the weight - but I would have been a fool to not see you and Nasath as a good fit,” because it was true. If T’mor had done as Western liked to - leave metallics out of good positions - then perhaps Phylideth would have been happier.

But the brown would never be forced to change himself and the current piteous whining he was hearing would continue to be his defining feature. T’mor shoved back against it mutely, as much of a headache as it was to do so.

As expected, the dining area was populated by pairs that one could easily discern into the categories that T’mor had found they usually fell into. “I plan to take a long time to enjoy my breakfast,” which was really code for ‘until Phylideth gives up appealing to me’. Which would be a while.

ShinosBee