[PRP] Buying Time [Dharzol & Rasthell]

[smolderingskies]

Rasthell was most beautiful in this light, candles flickering off the walls of the room, gently touching his velvet skin with an orange luminescence. It accentuated his muscles with each shadow, made his striking hair seem a more muted auburn. In the afterglow of their intimate affairs was where Darzhol loved him most, not that he didn't love him every day. His fingers caressed Rasthell's side, touching the tiniest beauty mark - just there - that was in the exact same place as one Ehran had.

Not that he'd ever tell that to Rasthell, of course.

The flight had been spectacular - if Golds were good at anything, it was putting on a show of emotion and lust for the Weyr and every other locale to revel in. Rasthell had needed no coaxing as Dharzol took his hand and led him back to the nearest empty spot, a storage room that someone had been in recently enough for candles to be lit, or maybe someone had run through the Weyr and made every available room cozy enough for everyone once they understood a flight was happening. Only their discarded clothes had protected them from the rough floor. They hadn't even been there to witness the end of the flight, but surely the clutch would be spectacular.

Oh, the clutch. Dread curdled in Dharzol's chest, a sensation he'd become familiar with as each clutch passed. Drawing in a hand to his chest, he tried to slow his agitated breaths, to control himself, keep from ruining this moment with some kind of anxious outburst. He didn't have much longer - and he had even been considering participating in candidate swaps as he grew closer to aging out. The one thing he'd hoped for all his life seemed so far away, and yet just in his grasp. Maybe an Impression would make him feel complete, maybe it would be the only thing he needed in his life. And then he could settle down his romantic wanderlust that he just couldn't understand in himself, and have eyes only for one.

Perhaps it was a good thing that the partner he'd chosen for his flight excursion was the only one of his lovers who was a fellow Candidate. "Are you nervous about the Touching? Of the eggs, I mean," he breathed, breaking the sleepy reverie that had fallen over the room.

Masterharper

Let me know if I assumed too much and I can edit! |D

 

[Masterharper]

smolderingskies

It had been quite the night. Honestly, everything had been a bit of a blur! First Vimiath had woken everyone with her cry to the skies, then the lust of the queen flight had hit him hard. Sleep had been replaced by a primal need, one which Dharzol had seemed to share. Stealing off, away from prying eyes and the gossip of the Weyr, Rasthell thought about nothing but his love and the passion that had gripped him.

Only now, locked inside the old storage room, with a few candles flickering the last of their light, did the red-hair feel more or less like himself. He knew they would need to sneak back to the Barracks eventually, but he was in no rush -- even if the stone floor wasn't exactly comfortable. These sorts of moments, when it was just the two of them, were rare and far between. He was in no rush to hurry them away. He just wanted a few more moments with Dharzol.

It was bad enough the Weyr offered little privacy to the Candidates that stayed there; any Candidates in love affairs had to find their own spaces, and their own hideaways since fraternizing in the Barracks was frowned upon. Furthermore, Dharzol wasn't always in the mood to humor Rasthell -- sometimes the other seemed to like his space, or was busy with other friends, or other errands and chores. Sometimes, Rasthell felt like a bit of an over grown pest, but he couldn't hep it -- he liked the company of the other man. No, he loved the other man, that's why he wanted to be close to him, to be near him, to share what moments they could.

So it was, the red-head was relaxed, pleased, and more than satisfied. Though sleep wanted to grip him, Dharzol's voice drew him from any slumber. "Mmm?" He opened an eye, glancing up at the Candidate with one of his usual, lazy smile. "I'm not, not really. Are you?" He asked, reaching over with one of his arms to gently caress the others face, before threading fingers through his hair. "I'm trying no to get hopeful. Honestly, love, I'm more nervous about the Hatching itself." He knew Dharzol would know why. It was something that most Candidates experienced, save the lucky few who Impressed on their first attempt. Rasthell had stood for a few Hatchings now, and the utter disappointment of being left standing was a hard feeling to fight. The Weyr tried to teach its Candidates not to get too disappointed if they didn't Impress, there would always be more clutches... but that wasn't always the case, was it? Especially for those who had stood time and time again.
 

[smolderingskies]

Dharzol leaned into his lover's touch, closing his eyes as Rasthell expressed his own doubts about the Hatching. To Dharzol, each step was starting to become a routine, one that he wish would change. He felt like each bit of the process - the Clutching, the Touching, the Hatching - they had become monotonous and familiar, and yet they came with the added experience of dread. He'd long ago lost count of how many Hatchings he'd stood for, how many Hatchlings had rejected him. There had been times where he'd barely tried at all, just stood by and let it happen to him. After all, what was it worth if putting your heart and soul into every single Hatching just let you down? Fourteen years of this, two to go, before he knew for sure if he actually deserved it or not.

"I just feel like... I have to get it right this time. Every step of it. You know? Maybe if I approach the Touching with more positivity, the Hatching will go more smoothly." He reached out a hand and stroked Rasthell's collarbone with his thumb, focusing on that one spot, attempting to ground himself in the softness of his lover's skin. It wasn't often that they got to share moments like this, alone. And here he was, ruining it with his endless worrying. Rasthell was one of the few people he'd ever let see this side of him - Rasthell had seen more facets of him than anyone, probably. As fellow long-standing Candidates, they understood each other on a rather intimate level. Even S'vor couldn't compete, despite being a rider. He hadn't been a Candidate for very long at all.

A dark image flashed through Dharzol's mind, of a hatchling mauling the person he loved. Maybe that wasn't the worst way to go - at least you'd be surrounded by the potential of things that could be, instead of dying a living death, aging out when you've spent your whole life living in a Weyr where your only goal and function was to do this, the thing that your father and his father before him had done. If he actually aged out, Dharzol wouldn't be able to do anything. "Maybe we should just run away and give up this whole Candidacy thing," he joked, except a small part of him might not be joking at all.

Masterharper

 

[Masterharper]

smolderingskies

Rasthell listened to Dharzol quietly in the candlelight. Shifting his position, he reached an arm out to pull the other a bit closer, perhaps a bit protectively. While he knew the other man was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, this was a bit of a vulnerable time, and the red-head wanted him to feel safe, unjudged, and loved.

Honestly, he understood. While he had a few more Turns than Dharzol, he was getting on the older side of the spectrum. He had spent the past seven Turns attending Hatchings, and walking away with nothing more than disappointment and a bit of heartache. But, every time he left alone, he tried hard to remember that it just meant he was one Hatching closer to the one that would shell his dragon. And the man tried hard to hang onto that hope, to believe that -- but it was moments like this that a flicker of doubt would tug at him. It was, he knew, entirely possible for both Dahrzol and he to age out. Not every Candidate was promised a lifemate. How many men and women were there on Pern who had to give up the dream of Impression?

"I get that. I think all you need to do, though, is be your wonderful self. I know they say to think positive and loving thoughts, but if a dragonet is supposed to know you -- entirely, completely -- then wouldn't they know if you were faking it?" He grinned a bit, leaning over to kiss the top of Dharzol's head. "It was a wild flight, you're a bit of a wild man-- maybe this is the clutch you'll Impress in." It sounded legit. Wasn't it Dharzol that had opened up to the idea of piercings, tattoos, and other fun? Rasthell had always been a bit repressed back at Keroon -- but here, especially with the other Candidate, he could be himself.

"But, if you're not sure about it,or want to give it all up -- just take me with you when you go, eh?" He teased back, though, like Dharzol, there was another part of him that was completely serious. "We'll work it out, come what may. I know it seems overwhelming now, but being a dragonrider isn't the be all, end all of life. Have you ever been out of Western Weyr for long, Dhar? Like, really lived somewhere else?" He stroked the others back and shoulders, still keeping him firmly wrapped up in his arms. "I mean..I don't really want to leave, but if I had to, or if I aged out and couldn't stay, or didn't want to stay... There's a lot out there." Though,the young man knew that Thread's return changed much of the world. A small part of Rasthell feared leaving the Weyr -- if the Hold's were anything like his old cothold, then he wouldn't be able to make it. But surely there were some more progressive places.

The Weyr's couldn't be the only safe havens out there, after all.  

[smolderingskies]

Dharzol couldn't help but grin when Rasthell pulled him closer, kissing the top of his head. The gesture was so sweet and gentle, his chest felt like it could burst. Rasthell was right, about him being wild, about the flight being wild - the clutch would likely be wild, too, a myriad of personalities that surely, one would finally take a liking to him. He felt a bit silly, childish even, goading comfort from his boyfriend, like a child going through his first Hatching. He didn't even know anymore, what number this was for him - he'd stopped counting turns ago.

Would Dharzol really leave the Weyr, if he could? It had been his home from birth, it had been everything he'd always wanted to be a part of. Would it be worth it to just give up the dream of impressing and work alongside his mother, or take up a real craft, even so late into life? Even his sister had taken up a craft when she was young, although she was a rider now, way ahead of his game. "If we could go anywhere, where would you like to go?" he asked, still rubbing Rasthell's collarbone. "I think I'd like to go somewhere cold, where I could cook stews all day and wear sweaters. Somewhere private, you know? In the middle of nowhere, somewhere." He smiled at the thought - if only he'd actually be able to take all of his lovers with him. Living in a busy place meant there were more excuses to sneak off at any given moment. Plus, he didn't want to break anyone's hearts. Especially not Rasthell's.

Masterharper

these moments are so calm, then -flash forward to Dharzol anxiously stumbling around the sands during the touching- lmao