The Seventh Wing - 12. Chapter 12

J'day felt like a little kid again, flushed and overfull with excitement and nerves. He gave his wing the barest of debriefs when they returned to the Weyr from drill, ignoring the smirks shared between the dragonriders, and rushed Gibbrenth through the following bath, much to the bronze dragon's disappointment.

"Tomorrow, tomorrow," he promised, eyes darting over and over to the flash of green on their ledge. "Come on, come on."

Complain all he might, J'day felt his dragon's amusement, knowing that he'd get teased unmercifully for a few days, until Gibbrenth forgot again, dragons had such short memories, but he didn't care. Lioleth was stretched out asleep when J'day slid from Gibbrenth's neck and he knew she must be faking because she didn't so much as bat an eye when J'day fumbled with all the straps and equipment. Giving up neatness for haste, he dumped harness and flying gear on the ground and dashed inside the weyr.

"You're home!" he cried, seeing F'rian standing by the table, sorting through packs, bags, and sacks stacked haphazardly all around him. He wore soft-looking pants that hugged his hips, his shirt was half-untucked, the top undone, and his vest unfastened to hang loosely around his ribs. Turning as J'day came rushing up, he smiled a small but genuine grin unmarred by the pain and fatigue darkening the circles under his eyes.

J'day didn't wait. He pulled his weyrmate to his chest in a powerful hug, trapping F'rian's surprised and protesting arms between them. With a grumbling sort of sigh, F'rian relaxed, hands fluttering awkwardly into an answering embrace.

"You're home," murmured J'day. "Hmm, I ... mmmm." Distracted, he fingered the soft, sleek material of the shirt, brushing his cheek upon the equally soft and pliant leather vest. "Mmmm ...!"

F'rian tensed back up. "What are you doing?"

"Wow, this is so nice," he replied, questing fingers aching now to touch the teasing, taunting hide of the britches. F'rian jumped as J'day's hands dropped to his hips, but the bronzerider held him tight. "Oooh, these are nice, mmmm."

"Are you, uh, molesting m-my breeks?"

"Mmm ... maybe."

"If you like them that much, you can have them, just let me go."

J'day's hands tightened over the ass he was currently groping, holding his weyrmate in place and continuing to rub his face into the man's shirt and vest. "Don't be silly, they won't fit. But they are nice, mmm, so soft. And you smell nice, too." Leaning forward, he sniffed along neck and collar. F'rian smelled of dragon musk, sweat, numbweed, and something else, something vaguely familiar, a cloying, sweet, and yet subtle scent that complimented the man's natural odor.

"Uh ...."

Breathing deep, J'day let himself slide downwards, caught up in a sudden desire to feel those strong legs through the new, ever-so-soft material of the pants. "Oh, yeah." Choosing a leg at random, J'day nuzzled the front of the thigh while his hands encircled the rest. "Mmmm!"

F'rian pulled a half-step away, but with J'day practically wrapped around one leg, he didn't get far. He swatted at J'day's head, but the bronzerider just slipped a little lower, eyes dropping closed in contentment, hands running up and down a strong, powerful leg, feeling the muscles shiver and ignoring his weyrmate's half-hearted, embarassed protests.

"Oooh, where did you get these?"

"Your friend, Roni, she threw out all my clothes."

"She is an evil woman ... mmmm, so evil, remind me to thank her. Do you have more?"

"Y-yes, sh-she made sh-sure that ... th-that I -- J'day, stop ... st-st-st ... oh!"

Grinning wickedly, J'day steadied F'rian as his weyrmate staggered. In a rush, he pushed the weakened knees back so the greenrider sat sideways in a chair, one arm over the seat-back, the other shoulder pressing into the table, feet spread for balance. He threw his head back as J'day continued mouthing the bulge between his legs through the fancy new pants. He mumbled, but couldn't seem to put together whole words, let alone sentences, and his arms were too busy to push J'day away.

J'day rubbed against the inside of a leg and thigh, hands expertly releasing ties and tugging down the waistband to free the object of his desire. F'rian arched instinctively, biting off a moaning protest, and J'day was quick to slide the pants further down. His hands returned to his weyrmate's hips, holding him steady. While he hadn't anticipated jumping F'rian the second he saw him, J'day wasn't about to let him go now.

He nipped and nuzzled along the join of leg and hip, letting his neck and jaw tease the stiffer parts of F'rian's anatomy. He expected to be pushed or tossed aside at any moment, but as he continued the caresses, F'rian grew more relaxed, not less, leaning awkwardly against chair and table, fingers clenched tightly for support. J'day let his hands wander, with feather-soft touches, along the thighs, growing bolder in his forays.

Moisture smeared his cheek on another pass, and J'day smiled, hearing the quiet, barely voiced murmur from his weyrmate. Slowly, deliberately drawing it out even though he knew F'rian couldn't see him, J'day dragged his tongue across the tip of his weyrmate's cock. F'rian's body shivered beneath J'day's hands and again J'day held him still. Teasing licks and gentle kisses followed. The only sounds were wood creaking in F'rian's tight grip and soft pants and gasps from the man himself.

With all the time to play he wanted and no intention of pushing for more, J'day dedicated himself to pleasuring his weyrmate. He would have liked to watch F'rian, knowing full well that the man had never been touched in this way, but he neither wanted to interrupt things by moving them, nor wanted to stop and wait for another time. He'd rarely volunteered oral sex, never pushed it on someone like this, and he didn't want to give himself the time to think about what he was doing, either. He laid a trail of hot moisture from tip to base, suckled each globe in their wrinkled, protective sack with the hair tickling his nose, kissed the insides of both thighs, and kissed his way back to the tip before taking the whole thing in his mouth.

F'rian's breaths came in ragged whispers now. He gasped, body tensing when he was engulfed. J'day paused, hearing a sharp quality to the gasps that worried him. He looked up. F'rian had his head against one shoulder, the arm pressed along the table, hand gripping the edge. His eyes were open and staring, murky green-brown, as if they couldn't decide what color they wanted to be. Mouth parted, his chest rose and fell quickly, too quickly. He breathed in fast, stuttering gasps, filling his lungs practically to bursting before being able to force the air back out again in quick wheezes.

"Rian?" J'day asked cautiously. He ran his fingers lightly along rigid thighs. "F'rian, it's okay, there's no one here but me. Just J'day, no one else, I promise." He kept talking, reassuring but firm, sighing with relief as those odd-colored eyes tracked to him again and F'rian slowly backed off the edge, easing away from an attack of memories.

"I -- I'm sorry," he whispered, eyes falling shut, arms trembling with tension.

J'day patted his hips gently and kissed an available knee. "Not your fault. I startled you, I'm the one as should be apologizing."

"What were you doing to me?"

"I sort of did it before," J'day answered. "Do you remember?" A little saliva to help ease things was all he'd planned at the time, but F'rian had surprised him by requesting a reverse in the positions J'day had been meaning to introduce.

F'rian blushed, opening his eyes a bit. "That was ..." He paused. "Different?"

"Yes. May I continue?"

Green-brown eyes widened in alarm. "No! No, don't!"

He meant to push away, J'day could see that, but he couldn't move without falling, his hands releasing and tightening immediately around their wooden supports. J'day frowned a little. He'd never known anyone to refuse a blow job.

"F'rian," he said, slowly, draping his weight across knees and thighs to lessen the possibility of being thrown off. "F'rian, I want to do this. I'd love to, for no reason but --"

"No!" the greenrider protested, shaking his head. "Don't! Don't do it, don't, don't -- please, please stop, please ...!"

Instantly, J'day rose, using his arms to support his weyrmate so that the man could be slipped from his precarious position down to floor. Pleading and begging, he moaned into J'day's neck and the bronzerider swallowed hard, wondering what nightmare this had triggered. F'rian curled against him, arms wrapped around J'day's back, hands curled into fists, his whole body trembling. J'day kept silent, just holding and being held.

"Thank you," F'rian whispered after a little while, words muffled against a shoulder.

"For what?" J'day murmured. He pouted a little. "I didn't get to really do anything."

Fists eased, palms holding J'day close. "No one's ever let me say no before."

"Oh," said J'day, feeling like a heel. "Well, I --"

The greenrider pulled back. "We need to get ready, there's a big --"

J'day didn't let him go. He frowned at his weyrmate. "That can wait, Rian, we need to talk."

F'rian looked down unhappily. "About what?"

"About what just happened."

"N-nothing happened."

"Rian!" J'day hissed. "I can't keep hurting you like this! Help me! Tell me, can you do that?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, F'rian huddled in on himself. J'day rubbed at hunched shoulders, but didn't push the contact.

"I've got an idea," he said, as one minute stretched into several of uncomfortable silence. F'rian's eyes flickered over to him uncertainly. J'day let his hands fall to where their thighs rubbed against each other. He trailed fingers over his weyrmate's still-exposed skin. "Just tell me yes or no, can you do that?"

"O-okay." F'rian watched him nervously.

"Has anyone touched you here?" asked J'day, pressing fingers to the tight, black curls nestled around his weyrmate's groin.

F'rian flinched, gasping a little as he tried to draw uncooperative legs up to protect himself. He ducked his head.

"When?" J'day pushed. "Before? Here, on a flight?" Two nods. He took in a deep breath and held it, admired his greenrider's courage in asking J'day to touch, in allowing his touch. "With hands?" Another nod. "Mouth?" That was difficult to ask, but F'rian shook his head vehemently, gaze firmly on the floor, still trying to hide himself, tangled as he was in his britches.

J'day rubbed a knee, then reached up to pinch his weyrmate's jaw between finger and thumb, turning his head so they looked each other eye to eye. He slid his thumb to brush against the tightly-pressed lips. "Here?" he asked.

F'rian visibly paled further, closing his eyes again and trying to draw away.

"Kisses?" asked J'day quietly, reaching with his other hand to cup F'rian's jaw, keeping him from escaping. The head in his hands twisted slightly in the negative. J'day closed his own eyes for a second, hoping the next answer would also be negative, but fearing the worst. "Did they have you, er, was anything ever put in your mouth?"

F'rian jerked, nodding with a soft whimper. J'day caressed the cheeks with his fingers, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together.

"Were you tied?" That was a no. "Held down?" A nod. He knew he'd been beaten, so he didn't need to ask that, but he pressed on regardless. "So they held you down, grabbed you, put their -- th-their dicks in your mouth, and in your ass?"

He was trembling again, near-invisible shudders. J'day pressed soft lips to that unhappy mouth in a brief, tender kiss. He struggled to go on.

"At the same time?" He got another nod, and something tightened in his own stomach, making him feel sick. "Did you come?"

The tiny nod was accompanied by another whimper, a tighter hunch along the shoulders.

J'day loosed one hand to run fingers through black hair, brushing curls back from the face screwed up in such abject misery. "And here?" he asked. He dropped that hand to one butt-cheek, flinching himself as F'rian started. "Here, at the weyr, was there more, or just here?" He patted the lean muscle.

"N-nothing more," F'rian gasped. "Just that. Just," he hauled his mouth closed again around another sob.

"Once? Or more often?"

The shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I don't know."

"Okay. Okay," he said, stronger, and pulled F'rian to lean against him again. "We're done, that's all, no more questions. Thank you, I know that was difficult."

"S-sick."

"Me too, Rian, me, too. Hush, now, it'll pass." He patted through hair and down the neck in an absent-minded gesture, chin planted on his weyrmate's shoulder. "F'rian?"

"Yes?"

"Do you trust me?"

That got a nervous frown and shiver, but F'rian nodded, quickly, as if afraid he'd change his mind.

J'day sat back, cupping his weyrmate's face again to stare intently in his eyes. "I love you," he said quietly. "I loved you before I even met you, and I continue to love you a little more every day. No matter what. You could tell me you hate me and send me away, and that still won't make me love you any less. Shh, don't interrupt. Your courage astounds me and makes me really, really horny." He fought the smirk that crept to his lips, shaking his head a little. "I want, some day, for you to do all the things to me that I have done and will do to you, but we've got turns to get there, there's no rush. Do you understand?"

F'rian trembled a little in his grasp, tears glistening, unshed in his eyes. Slowly this time, he nodded, letting his gaze drop away, and J'day kissed him again, gently.

"You are so brave," he whispered against those lips. "I'm going to ask you to do something for me, and it's going to take even more courage." He looked up into those worried brownish-green eyes, trying to stay serious and wanting to smile, his hands shaking a little. "Let me love you?" he asked. "Believe that you're worth being loved? Even a little?"

They stared at each other in silence for a moment. F'rian's lips and eyes were rounded in shock. His tongue slipped out to moisten suddenly dry lips, taking a couple tries to form words.

"I'll try."

J'day grinned a watery smile and kissed his weyrmate once more before pulling him back into a hug. "Oh, thank you, F'rian." He pressed a kiss to the neck so invitingly close. "Thank you."

"J'day?"

"Mmm?"

"You can ... do whatever that, uh, finish what --"

"No, that's okay, you need time, It can wait."

Steady hands plucked J'day's arms from around his weyrmate's back. He stared back, uncertain how to read the fierce expression in the other man's face.

"No. Now."

J'day shivered at the authoritative tone, but he still hesitated. "Are you sure?"

Lips pressed down into a thin line, but F'rian didn't back down. "Yes. What do I have to do?"

"Wear these breeks more often?" He grinned and winked, but the joke fell flat. "Okay, just, just, here." Desperate hands grabbed a few of the nearer sacks, pressing F'rian back to lean against them. The greenrider frowned a protest, but uncurled to do as J'day bid. Peeling him out of boots, socks, and pants did a bit more to get J'day back in the mood. He lingered pulling off the soft britches. "These are so nice."

F'rian snorted softly and, looking up quickly, J'day saw him roll his eyes.

Grinning happily, J'day pushed on his weyrmate again, settling him back against the lumpy bags before crawling over between his legs. F'rian watched him uneasily, muscles tense, not immediately able to relax.

"This is so crazy," he muttered, raking eyes over the half-dressed man. "It's not fair you can look so sexy like that. I'd just look silly. I would, I have, trust me on that, just doesn't work for me." Reaching out, J'day ran a hand over prickly flesh. F'rian shuddered and J'day could almost see more color leech from his face.

"Hey," he said, letting his hand rest where it was. "Why don't we go somewhere else, a little more comfortable?"

"No," F'rian answered, barely parting his lips. A little life came back to his eyes and face. "Quit stalling and j-just do it."

J'day sighed. "Fine, but we're doing this my way, at my pace." He received something of a grunt and a sigh in reply.

Stretching out, J'day pillowed his head in one hand, leaned against one strong leg, and let his eyes and free hand roam freely along the other. He could reach almost to the ankle and stroked lean, hard muscles in long, firm strokes. He kneaded the thigh a little, digging in with thumb and fingers, before returning to the random caresses. The hair on the long legs was coarse and dark, but still curly. J'day raked through the thicker patches with his nails, mesmerized by so simple a gesture. He was touching his weyrmate, really touching him, and he wasn't pulling away. From time to time, F'rian winced or flinched, but he held mostly still and J'day felt the muscles slowly, s l o w l y relax. When he looked up, he saw that the greenrider seemed equally fascinated and repelled, and he watched J'day with all the seriousness he'd shown when criticizing J'day's patterns, looking for flaws. He grinned to see such a gaze, lifting his hand so the hairs tickled his palm. F'rian blinked rapidly, shivering slightly, and swallowed loudly in the quiet atmosphere.

J'day reversed the motion, going against the lay of the hairs, and was rewarded by something akin to a gasp. F'rian had grabbed a chairleg in one hand, the other fisted in the leather of one of the sacks he sprawled upon, and his hands clenched tightly before reflexively relaxing. J'day tickled behind one knee and F'rian twitched, mouth turning down in a slight frown, eyes leaving J'day's roaming hand to dart to his face for a brief moment. The bronzerider grinned, ran his hand up higher and around to the sensitive, inner thigh, and F'rian's head fell back slightly, eyes fluttering shut, for a second, before he seemed to recover himself and glared down at his weyrmate. But the stare had no malice and J'day chuckled softly.

Shifting, J'day pushed forward to rest his head on F'rian's hip. Now he could grope higher and he ran his hand under the loose shirt, over ribs and stomach, the skin shivering under the light touch. The scent of strong, powerful male was thick in J'day's nose and he nuzzled the skin he rested on, opening his eyes again to the slight bob of a stiffening cock tantalizingly close to his nose. The delay had relaxed J'day, too, and he licked his lips, scooting closer, all but laying on the supporting leg. With one last look up, to see piercing, green eyes focused on him, J'day flicked out his tongue in a quick lick. F'rian visibly broke out in a sweat, but the murmur that escaped his lips was anything but protesting.

Keeping up his caresses, J'day closed his eyes in pleasure, alternating soft kisses along the shaft with wet swipes of his tongue and the brush of his cheek. Knowing that F'rian watched so carefully made him nervous, but it was a good thrill that sent chills down his back and had his own cock straining in his pants. Knowing that his weyrmate didn't have any experience with this made J'day bold. Anything he'd wanted to try and been too embarassed to ever actually do, he did; anything former partners hadn't let him get away with, J'day tried again. He knew he wasn't the best at this, he'd had a few really good partners in the past to compare himself to, but J'day had always felt a little shy when it came to giving or receiving oral sex. It was just too intimate. Now, however, although he knew he was blushing in embarassment, the soft sighs and moans were addictive and all he wanted to do was continue.

This time, taking all of his partner into his mouth didn't send F'rian off into another panic attack. He flopped down, back arching, head lolling back, those critical eyes lost somewhere under his eyelids. Such sheer enjoyment made J'day moan, a sound that translated into sensation against the hard muscle in his throat and, to their mutual surprise, came back with an echoing moan from F'rian. J'day grinned wickedly and added sound to his growing repertoire.

The hips he'd had to capture trembled under his hands. J'day could have dragged it out longer, but he wanted more to feel F'rian come, to take him in his mouth as he'd always been on the squeamish side about, but suddenly really wanted, so he bobbed his head, pulling slightly with the suction. F'rian lasted three demanding swallows, before he went completely still, for just a second, some weird kind of half-strangled, growled protest gurgling from his throat, and then he shuddered, going limp.

Foggy, green eyes glared at J'day from under half-closed, sleepy lids through a dazed and sated expression. Crawling up along the sprawled body, J'day grinned and kissed the corner of the slack mouth.

"Welcome home."

"Mnn ... nngh!"

J'day chuckled, snuggling against the man. He kissed the sweaty forehead and nibbled lightly on an ear until he was roughly shaken off.

F'rian swatted at him, still too caught up in tired contentment to be very coordinated. "That was -- w-was ...."

J'day smiled with satisfaction, a heady pleasure of his own making his stomach feel warm and cozy-like, despite the hardness he had yet to deal with. "You're welcome," he only half-teased, whispering as he claimed another soft kiss.

For as much as he'd struggled before, F'rian didn't push J'day away. He let his eyes fall closed, arms wrapping around his weyrmate, letting his head fall back and letting a soft, pleased-sounding sigh slip past his lips. He sat relaxed for several minutes before starting to shift around in J'day's arms. He didn't speak, but he didn't have to. J'day could feel the tension creeping across his shoulders. He would have rather lay there, content to snuggle for awhile, but he knew F'rian wouldn't want that. Sighing deeply in only partially-feigned regret, J'day pushed off his weyrmate, steadying him until F'rian got his limbs working.

"Well," said J'day, "much as I wouldn't mind just lazing away the evening, we should get cleaned up. Tonight's supposed to be a celebration, a real, mini-Gather of sorts in the Lower Caverns."

F'rian grabbed for his clothes and silently climbed to his feet. His too-solemn eyes followed J'day's progress as the bronzerider stood as well. J'day grinned and winked. F'rian blushed and turned away.

"I'm glad. That you're home."

F'rian jerked his head in a short nod. "Yes."

Grinning widely, J'day returned to the ledge and greeted Lioleth properly (and ignored the bronze dragon's snide mental snickering) while he picked up his gear and Gibbrenth's harness. He hung the harness on the peg next to where Lioleth's hung again, his flying jacket beside it, his helmet and other gear on the shelf with F'rian's.

By the time they made it down to the dining hall, the party had overflowed outside, to where the Weyr harper led a handful of others in fast-paced dance music. They sat or stood on a slight rise above a flat area set aside on many occassions as a dance floor. Glowbaskets hung on long poles with streamers and reflectors to spread the light, and the evening was only just beginning to cool as the sun went down. Tables and benches had been removed from the dining hall and arranged around the informal dance floor outside, under the lights.

Their appearance resulted in a lot of smiles and some teasing, but J'day only grinned back and steered F'rian through the crowd to where they could get some food.

"Evening, Wingleader," said a cheerful voice to their right, pouring wine into a glass. "Oh! F'rian!" Light brown eyes raked him over from head to toe and the girl whistled, making the other greenrider blush and try to sidle behind J'day.

"Wow, F'rian, looking good."

"Evening, Rahl," said J'day evenly, trying not to snicker. He nudged F'rian with a plate.

"E-evening," muttered the taller man, staring down at the ground.

"Glad to be back?" asked Rahl, circling J'day. "Y'syg said the Fort riders were quite taken with you." She made an aggreeable sound. "Can't say as I blame them."

"I know," said J'day, trying to hold in his laughter. "Why don't you take Rahl out to dance?" He ignored both F'rian's aggrieved glance and Rahl's delighted squeal. "Show off some of those new steps I'm sure you learned?"

"J'day ...!" F'rian groaned, but Rahl already had his arm in a firm grip, towing him towards the dancing.

The bronzerider did laugh then and, turning around, loaded up two plates and slumped down at an empty seat, snagging two unused glasses from the center of the table while he greeted the others there.

"Wasn't sure you'd be making it out here," remarked another dragonrider, leaning against the table to pour some wine.

J'day grinned at D'cor and shrugged. "Yeah, well, I'm sure we're not the only ones who were late."

The older bronzerider laughed. "Very true. How are things?"

"Haven't asked, honestly," J'day admitted.

"You heard from T'rar yet?"

"No. Should I have?"

D'cor frowned. "Hasn't spoken to me yet, either."

"Well," grunted J'day, swallowing a mouthful of tart wine. "I refuse to let it bother me tonight."

D'cor smirked. "I'll bet." He laughed. "Where is F'rian, anyway?"

Jerking a thumb at the mass of bodies, J'day answered, "Out there."

"Dancing?" The older bronzerider's eyes widened.

"Yep." J'day winked and D'cor laughed, and they let the conversation turn to more day-to-day matters, drawing in some of the other riders that came and went from the table. J'day ate and turned, from time to time, to survey the dance crowd, catching glimpse of F'rian, swirling his partners across the grass. Just as Joreena had said, no sooner had one dance ended than someone else claimed the greenrider's arm. F'rian didn't seem to mind and, once, coming closer in the pattern of chaotic movement that J'day had never, in all his turns, deciphered, the bronzerider saw a wide, easy smile plastered on his weyrmate's face. He'd been growing a little worried, but he relaxed again when he saw that.

J'day had just turned to watch again, sipping from his glass, mind half-listening to the conversation, to see a dip and jostle in the crowd. The dancers parted and, although he couldn't hear it over the noise of the gathering, J'day saw F'rian, sprawled on the grass, head thrown back against his supporting arms, and laughing. Most of the female dragonriders had thrown on skirts for the night, but F'rian's current partner had not. She was tall, almost as tall as he was, and, half kneeling, she seemed even taller. Arja hauled F'rian back to his feet and the crowd closed around them once more.

Limping, F'rian emerged from the dancing leaning on the other greenrider's shoulder. Arja was blushing.

"So sorry!" she apologized, as F'rian eased down into an empty spot on the bench.

He waved her off, still grinning, eyes practically sparkling with amusement.

"What happened?" asked J'day, unable to contain his curiosity, every eye at the table riveted on the couple.

Arja blushed darker and ran a hand through her short, brown hair. "I, uh, stepped on his feet."

Loud guffaws broke out amongst the other dragonriders.

"Both feet," F'rian added, startling J'day with a wink. "At the same time."

"I, uh, excuse me," fumbled Arja, as the laughter went up a notch in volume.

She vanished back into the crowd and someone poured F'rian a brimful of wine. D'cor caught J'day's eye across the table and lifted an eyebrow. J'day just shrugged back, trying not to look too smug. He took advantage of his weyrmate's ease to lean over and kiss his cheek, ruffling the dark curls.

"It's your turn, next," F'rian whispered before J'day could slip away.

"My turn?" he asked, blinking.

"Dance with me?"

"What?"

"Voly and M'tol dance."

"Yeah, but ...." There were really no words to describe that pair. H'voly had been been picked up on search as a young man, mistaken for a girl by the bluerider that had ended up his weyrmate. He'd been shocked, as had everyone else, to learn the truth, but Voly was as hard to resist as a drenching when caught outside without shelter in a rainstorm. The greenrider often dressed as a woman and turned heads even in riding leathers. Friends with M'tol since their weyrling days, the bluerider had been J'day's first crush and he'd not taken well to Voly's appearance turns later. The greenrider had understood, even if their mutual friends hadn't, but, as J'day had conceded to him eventually, M'tol had never looked at anyone, much less J'day, the way he did Voly. J'day couldn't begrudge the man his happiness, much as it had ached at the time. Just another piece of the past he had been glad to set aside on coming to Igen Weyr.

"One dance," said F'rian.

J'day shook his head, fingers tightly gripping his glass. "No. No way."

"I won't mind if you step on my feet." He grinned.

"Aren't you sore? Shouldn't you rest?"

"J'day."

He looked away. "Men don't dance together."

"But I want to dance with you."

"No," J'day hissed at him, cheeks flushing with embarassment. "Absolutely not."

F'rian poked at a meatroll unhappily.

J'day stared at F'rian for a long minute, the greenrider studiously staring down at his still-loaded plate, leaving just his face in profile. His hair was only slightly shorter than the attractive length of a couple months before and the curls caught the slight breeze off the lake in little waves. His eyes were dark tonight.

I am so going to regret this, thought J'day, but he couldn't stand the sudden melancholy after the delighted expression of just minutes before. He sighed.

"Fine. Fine, you win, but I warn you," he added as F'rian glanced quickly up at him, "that I'm a horrible, horrible dancer."

F'rian was on his feet at once, tugging on J'day's arm. The bronzerider groaned, but the amused faces he appealed to were oh-so-not helpful. The rider on J'day's other side even helped F'rian pull him to his feet. D'cor even laughed back at J'day's annoyed parting glance.

He only felt more awkward when surrounded by the others. The squares of pattern dancers moved along the outside, with less formalized dancers gyrating around each other in the center. Smaller groups formed around each other and, even if no once glanced twice at him, J'day still felt exposed and stupid, as if everyone were staring at him. His heart beat unnaturally loud over the beat of the drums.

"I don't know about this," he muttered, feet seemingly frozen to the ground.

F'rian hadn't let go of his hand and he tugged at J'day, drawing his attention. "Watch me." Limp vanished as the greenrider bobbed back and forth lightly. "Now you."

J'day tried to copy the move, distracted by the hands slipped to his waist to help direct. F'rian walked through the dance step with him, over and over again. J'day stared down at their feet, stepping back when his partner went forward, forward when he went back, trying not to either step on or get stepped on by F'rian. Slight pressure on his hips corrected him and steadied J'day's stumbling feet and F'rian moved them a little faster, adding another step and gracefully guiding J'day into the expanded move. J'day could almost forget the music or the press of bodies as he watched the long, lean legs stride easily through the steps. The breeks clung to F'rian, helping J'day anticipate where he was going to step next.

Then one hand slipped up his side, caught J'day's wrist, and spun him away. Startled, he forgot to resist, stumbling and falling as his foot caught on something and he tripped. They landed together in a tangle of limbs and J'day wanted to crawl under a rock and die from embarassment. Unfortunately, the ground seemed clear of useable rocks ... just feet stomping next to his head and laughter over the music enough to turn his face even redder than before.

F'rian grinned over at him and J'day scowled, avoiding the helping hand to stand by himself. He stood alone in the crowd by himself, fidgeting nervously.

"J'day?"

He jumped at the hand on his arm and took a couple hasty steps back, almost colliding with a swirling, color-bedecked form that frowned at him as she was pulled away. J'day dabbed at the sweat on his brow with the back of one hand. Eyes searching for a way out settled at last on F'rian, the greenrider standing patiently within hands-reach, both hands held, palms up, towards J'day. Around them, the music and the dancers picked up the pace, but J'day and F'rian remained an island of calm in the midst of it all.

J'day stared at his weyrmate for a long moment before bracing himself enough to settle his fingers in the waiting hands. Only, before he could so much as lift his arms, another, larger, darker hand curled its fingers around F'rian's wrist. The greenrider jumped sideways, eyes widening in alarm, tugging uselessly at his trapped limb. Sweat jumped out on his face and he stared from the other man to J'day in wordless appeal.

V'tos ignored J'day, eyes on F'rian, scanning from head to toes in a hungry, possessive manner that made J'day flush darkly with anger.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"None of your concern," was the reply.

"Then unhand my weyrmate."

The brownrider laughed darkly and jerked on the captured hand. "Come with us," he invited, tossing a leer towards J'day. "I'm man enough for the both of you."

J'day's mouth dropped open in astonishment, his eyes catching a sudden flicker of movement as F'rian's head snapped up and he lashed out. V'tos reeled, letting go to touch both hands to his bleeding nose. In another blink, he returned the punch with one of his own that dropped F'rian to the ground. The greenrider leaped back to his feet, but staggered and J'day finally broke free of his immobility to grab his weyrmate.

"Are you crazy?" he asked. "You do not strike a senior rider!"

F'rian still looked dazed from the blow he'd taken, body shaking in either nerves or anger, J'day couldn't tell, but his head swiveled to look at J'day and the bronzerider recoiled from the anger there.

"He insulted you!"

"F'rian, I --"

"What's the matter?" V'tos asked, words slightly slurred. He lowered his hand, the sleeve of his blouse now soaked with the blood from his nose. "Did your mate forget to inform you of our little tryst?"

F'rian lunged, snarling, and again J'day held him back. Those around them had noticed the little scene, crowding a little closer while the music continued on, a spot of discord in the light, casual, and energetic melody.

"Stop it!" hissed J'day, gazing around nervously. He didn't want a scene, not now, not with so much at stake.

"You can't just let him," F'rian argued, not bothering to lower his voice, let alone modify his furious and frustrated body language, struggling against J'day's restraining grip.

"Oh, yes," V'tos goaded them both. "Come at me, Greenrider, we both know how much you enjoy the feel of my hands on your flesh."

F'rian flushed even darker, a tremble raced over him, and then he was out of his weyrmate's grasp. He landed two, swift punches, one to the face, one to the gut, kicked out, and failed to duck in time to avoid the slower, answering backhanded retort. His face drained of all color and he dropped like a stone. V'tos kicked him and he rolled, tears of embarassment, pain, and anger springing to his eyes, but he couldn't rise. He cursed instead, and J'day wasn't the only one shocked to hear such language. One hand to his back, F'rian propped himself on his other arm and assaulted the brownrider verbally, from allusions of the origins of his mother to mocking assertations of his sexual prowess.

V'tos' contemptuous laughter broke off mid-chuckle and he stepped forward, but J'day moved quickly between both men.

"Stop this! Or I shall put you both on report!"

"No, we wouldn't want that, would we?" sneered V'tos. He scowled not at J'day, but at the dark head just on the other side of the bronzerider's glossy boots. "First day back, wouldn't want your wingleader to find out, now would we, so close to being finally rid of you."

F'rian laughed, and the sound was so unexpectedly rich that, startled, J'day looked down. F'rian didn't look happy, but his dark eyes lightened perceptibly as they met J'day's.

"Well?" asked F'rian. "What say you, Wingleader? Do you want rid of me?"

J'day blinked stupidly and it was V'tos who replied: "What?"

"Oh? Hadn't you heard?" he replied easily, though J'day could see him gritting his teeth, hand trembling against his side. "Weyrleader T'rar assigned me to Wingleader J'day's wing this morning, condition of my remaining at Igen Weyr. Sir," he turned his gaze back on J'day, "with your permission, I'll secure that apology now."

"Between with any apology!" roared V'tos, hands curling into fists. "You lying, little tunnelsnake! No one wants you here! You're worthless as anything but a tail to chase, that dragon of yours is a menace, better that you would've died at Impression!"

He stalked forward as F'rian spit at him and J'day, caught between the two, for a second wasn't sure what he was going to do. He became aware, for the first time, that all movement around them had halted, all eyes on the three dragonriders, silent, waiting for something to happen.

J'day didn't move, and V'tos came right up to him, almost nose to nose before he went to shove him out of the way.

"You would dare?" J'day asked quietly, so angry that he couldn't yell, but the words hit the anticipatory air around them with the force of a blow. V'tos even backed up a half-step in suprise.

J'day continued, "You would strike a man while he's down, and attack a Wingleader without cause?" Now J'day's hands were fisted, trembling at his sides. "Stand down, Wingsecond V'tos."

"Or what?"

"Or be out of this Weyr."

"You can't do that."

J'day opened his mouth. "No --"

"But I can."

The frozen tableau parted on one side for the Weyrleader. T'rar was dressed in some of his finest, and looked both regal and confident as he stared from one to another of the men.

"There are witnesses enough to the events of tonight. Do not make me strip you of your rank as well."

V'tos swallowed. He glanced down at F'rian, his usual mask back in place, then up to J'day, muscles still standing out rigidly in tightly-controlled fury, before dropping his chin in a nod to the Weyrleader. He stepped back.

"My apologies."

"J'day?" prompted T'rar.

The word dripped with venom. "Accepted."

"Glad to hear it," said T'rar evenly. "Let us have no more of this nonsense. This is a celebration!" He held out a hand to a woman standing nearby. "Chawnda, my dear, shall I have the pleasure of a dance?"

She curtsied meekly. "Of course, Weyrleader."

At T'rar's imperious wave, the band started up again and the tight crowd broke apart, buzzing.

J'day knelt by F'rian. The greenrider had his face pressed into the grass, eyes closed, the skin along his jaw tight, breath whistling through his teeth. J'day dabbed at a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.

"F'rian?"

He groaned.

"Let me help?" asked a voice out of the crowd.

"And I!" offered another.

A handful of voices spoke up and J'day looked up at them. One was G'roth, one of J'day's wingseconds, and the others were some of F'rian's wingmates. G'roth didn't hesitate, but dropped down beside J'day.

He whispered, "R'dan's gone to find Okato. Can we move him?" The last part was spoken louder.

"Yes," F'rian answered, peering at J'day from under his lashes. "Get me out of here."

J'day nodded and stepped back, letting his wingsecond and another, bulkier man, a bluerider, heft F'rian to his feet. He sagged between them limply, lips pressed tightly together, sickly pale under the glow-light. Other riders made a path through the crowd and J'day followed, anxiety churning his stomach as they went into the Lower Caverns and to the infirmary.

The healer was waiting for them and his assistants dissipated the small horde that came in their wake.

"Set him here," said Okato, indicating one of the beds. "Stupid fool," he addressed F'rian. "I told you to rest and take it easy."

"I apologize, Master," wheezed F'rian between gasps for air. He winced as he settled down. "I think I bruised my ribs."

The master healer sighed. "Let me judge that. Off with the shirt, then."

J'day thanked G'roth and H'byl and they hovered by the door. Okato prodded the puffy and blackening eye first, then the jaw, telling F'rian he was lucky to still have all his teeth.

"Eat carefully," he advised, and then tested the sore side. "Yes," he agreed with F'rian. "Bruised, so we shouldn't have to wrap them if you're careful, and as for the back?"

"Ah!"

The healer shook his head. "You've gone and set yourself back again. I told you to be careful, and Nuine's notes said the same thing." He beckoned to J'day, who appeared almost instantly at his side, unconsciously reaching for and holding his weyrmate's hand.

"Off duty, Wingleader," Okato told J'day formally. "As I told F'rian and the Weyrleader earlier, only short flights a-dragonback, no lifting -- of anything -- over the head, light loads otherwise, and no prolonged, sitting or standing or any form of exercise. Except you can swim," he told F'rian, "but not so much that you cause yourself any pain."

"For how long?" asked J'day, when F'rian remained silent.

"Until I say otherwise," Okato replied. "I'll see F'rian in my office every sevenday, for now, for evaluation. I'll give you fellis for tonight, but otherwise willowsalic only if necessary, and continue with the massages. Walking is good, but don't overdo it."

The journeymen he'd sent off for supplies returned and Okato handed J'day two pots and a small packet. "Fellis," he said, indicating the packet. The pots he tapped, saying, "More numbweed, for the back, and this other should be used twice a day at a minimum."

J'day stared at the healer, confused. "For what?"

"I had this made up for F'rian after our exam earlier this afternoon," the healer answered, nonplussed, though F'rian was now blushing. "It's to soften and stretch the scar-tissue, make for greater ease in sex."

"Oh." Now J'day was blushing, too. "Er, how often did you say?"

"Twice a day, three or four times is better, I've given F'rian directions for use. If you need more once that is gone, just let me know. Now," he turned back to F'rian, "do you think you can make it back to your weyr, or do you need to stay the night?"

"Home," said F'rian, glancing shyly up at J'day.

"Good. Now this time rest, and I don't want to see you for a few more days."

"Yes, sir."

Okato gave them a shooing gesture. "Go on, then, get out of here. Dragonriders," he harrumphed, rolling his eyes as he left.

With the others to help, J'day got F'rian back to his worried dragon and then to their weyr. Lioleth needed plenty of soothing to settle, following them indoors, so that J'day helped F'rian to sit on the stone couch with his needy green while J'day moved the rest of the way in to make tea. He set down the new pots by their bedside and turned down the furs. Lioleth fussed all the while the water boiled. It wasn't until J'day came over with the fellis-laced tea that he got the dragon to calm down and let F'rian rest.

"She's right, you know," he told his sleepy mate later, easing him down onto the sleeping couch. "You shouldn't have done that. Seniority aside, you're far too injured to jump into fights like that."

"I hate that she talks to you," slurred F'rian, struggling out of his shirt.

J'day pulled off a boot, smiling up at his weyrmate. "I didn't need to hear what she was saying to get the gist of it." He yanked off the other boot and reached for the belt and pants.

F'rian slapped his hands away. "I can do it."

"Stop it," said J'day, but he still grinned. Already half-asleep, F'rian was quickly losing all coordination. With quick, efficient moves, he slipped the shirt the rest of the way off, the pants soon following, lying in a heap on the floor.

F'rian frowned, clumsily trying to fish for his clothes, to put some order to the chaos. "Those're new."

"They'll survive," said J'day firmly, and pushed the greenrider down onto the mattress. "Lay down." Quickly stripping, J'day snuggled down at his weyrmate's side. "F'rian?"

"Um-hm?"

"Did you mean it? That you're in my wing now?"

"Um-hmm ...."

Slipping down further, J'day ran his hands through the inviting hair, along face and neck. F'rian lay against him, totally relaxed and unresisting. He didn't even shiver at the unaccustomed touch. "Is that wise?"

"Umm ... hmm ...."

"F'rian?"

"Mmm?"

"Nothing, I, you were magnificent, tonight. I love you, you know that, right? I mean, sure, I love Tor, too, but he's my friend, I ... I've never felt quite this way before, I didn't think -- I thought that my lusting for you would fade, but it hasn't and I don't even really care, I mean I do, but I don't and ... You're asleep, aren't you?"

He sighed, but his fingers lingered over the cheek, his mate's head nestled in the crook of his shoulder, heart beating slowly against his own. Like dragon, like rider. F'rian had faced V'tos as squarely and unflinchingly as any dragon Lioleth had chewed out. Even down on the ground he hadn't shown any fear, just contempt and anger. There was little doubt, had F'rian not been so hurt, that the fight could easily have continued until one or both were rendered unconscious. The quiet temper, unleashed, had shocked J'day and now, lying in the dark, enfolded in and wrapped around his weyrmate, he could admit that it had thrilled him as well.

Shifting a little, J'day first tried to ignore the growing discomfort in his groin, but each move pressed him against his slumbering weyrmate and so, with an annoyed, longing groan, he crawled out of bed and went to the bathing chamber. He reached the foot of the bed and stopped, staring. Lioleth's painting was back, but not in its usual spot. The painting hung off-center, and next to it hung a second painting. The date scrawled in the corner with F'rian's signature was only a few days ago.

The focus of the painting was the belly of a bronze dragon. The wings were bent, the head looking up, tail twisted in a corkscrew, as if the dragon were just finishing a complicated bit of aerial acrobatics. The background was all blue, blue-green water below, light-blue sky above, and blue-tinged mountains in the background. All around and behind the main figure was a wing of dragons, swooping and darting amongst each other, a rainbow of colors: the dash of green, darker browns, and the blues, almost lost in the background.

Staring at the painting, J'day could almost believe he was staring up at the display, watching it all unfold. Unconsciously, he reached out and touched the bright patterns that were painted into Gibbrenth's hide, the sunlight glinting off metal buckles and the barest hint of a rider. The cool, dry paint, made to look moist with the sea-breeze, caused his fingers to recoil, heart pulsing a bit in guilt, hoping he hadn't damaged anything. He glanced over his shoulder at the tousled head of curls on the sleeping couch, and then he was by his side. J'day crouched by the side of the bed, drinking in the sight of the man there.

F'rian was so beautiful, but the draw wasn't in the long, lean length of body or the tight, black curls, or even the brown-green eyes, so like a dragon's but in the tightly constrained emotions that bubbled just beneath the surface, that gave the greenrider such determination, poise, and elegant dignity. J'day let his fingers brush along the smooth cheek, with its purpling bruise, to trace along the line of his nose, and smooth the worry lines from his brow. The ear he could see had a couple, long hairs sticking out from the lobe and the small imperfection only made J'day smile.

He was back, back to stay, back, if J'day had his way, forever. He pressed a kiss to the slightly-parted lips and brushed a tear out of his eye before standing, only, instead of returning to his previous mission, he sat there, perched on the edge of the sleeping couch and petted the dark hair, running his fingers lightly over any exposed skin, and drinking in the sight of a man that made him happy just by being around. It was if a hole in his heart he'd never known to exist before had suddenly been filled. He'd never expected anything like this to ever happen. He'd had his doubts, even over the last few months apart, wondered if it were just the sexual tension he missed, wondered if F'rian felt the same or even, if he did, if he'd ever be able to say so.

Then he looked up at the painting again and knew it didn't matter if the greenrider never voiced his true feelings, because they were all there on canvas. Every time he looked up, he could feel the love that had gone into the time spent to bring such life to a painting. There was more skill than that shown in Lioleth's, but the two paintings complemented each other beautifully. Knowing that F'rian had hung those two before beginning to unpack anything else made J'day's chest ached, but not in a painful way.

He sighed again, happily, and kissed the available cheek. He sat there, enjoying the contrast between his lightly-tanned skin and F'rian's bronzed flesh, and marvelled at his luck.

"You're mine," he whispered. "All mine."

Ours, came a whisper in his mind, and J'day smiled.

"Ours," he agreed.