Look at the crowds bleeding with laughter [F'ur]

[rii]

F'lix didn't know when he had drawn closer to F'ur, but he didn't fight it; instead tightening his arms and bowing his head so he was almost burying his face in the junction of neck and shoulder. The muscles in his own body briefly tensed at the comment concerning Saboth. "He doesn't differentiate between people." One and the same. The tone purposely soft to hide any trace of inner turmoil. At least it was a truth, if an unexplained one. F'ur always did well to put two and two together without F'lix supplying all the needed variables; most of the time.

Reluctant, but knowing F'ur desired the eye contact, F'lix responded to the touch and drew back far enough to meet the other rider's gaze. His heart began to sink at the frowning expression; the words after the short question lost on him in that single moment. Quickly F'lix attempted to steel himself off as a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions thrashed through his thoughts. Why, when he thought he had been reaching some level of stability, did this little question throw his mind into such a disorienting spin..

His left hand came up, fingers trailing feather-light over the front of F'ur's face to elicit the natural reaction to close the eyes. He didn't want F'ur looking at him like that – disappointment. The touch moved to the side of face as F'lix leaned forward to press a soft kiss to the other man's lips. For all that F'lix could be aggressive, rough – his more tender touches were noticeably done sparingly.

Sliding an arm around F'ur's neck, the other around midback, the younger rider pulled himself closer, ducking his head beside F'ur's and this time letting his face lightly touch against neck; hiding. A not so subconscious part of himself was remembering F'ur's complaint about him being all over the place, and comments about not liking women because they were emotional – and thus so F'lix did his best to stuff the feelings back into their appropriate dark corners. He wasn't able to completely mask it all, and so he resorted to dodging the other's man's observations.

"I want to – live with you. I'd like that." He murmured to the warm skin. It was a torment of happiness and sorrow that vied for dominance, both with equal justification to be present in the moment. Part of him elated by how F'ur made him feel by asking such a simple question. The other half, when accepting the offer, acknowledged that it was a final step toward an ending. He didn't want to lose F'ur, but his past experiences told him otherwise. The least he could do was not shy away and enjoy the good time while it lasted, right?

Exhaling softly, F'lix tried to shift himself in more closely, balance swaying into F'ur as if intending to make one of their two bodies. He humored the idea of trying to suggest he was hungry, or providing a demanding distraction to avoid F'ur's last question, but he knew better; sometimes. But how could he explain to F'ur that he was afraid that, by moving in, the older man would tire out his interest in him due to having him around all the time. Besides, there also was the fact he felt as if he spoke any more his emotions were going to spill all over the place.

"You're patient." Not an answer, but F'lix smiled against the side of F'ur's neck. He lightly nuzzled that span of bare skin, a silent action of gratefulness that F'ur was... the man that he was, really – it was never one trait or quirk. It was the good, bad, and everything in between. "I don't want to... see it not work out. People get odd about their personal space," The sarcasm was picking back up. "You might toss me out on my ass for organizing that chaos you call your weyr."

[Requiem]

He grunted in response, hand moving up to the younger man's shoulder. Did he understand fully? No, of course not. F'lix had never bothered to speak of it in any detail...and frankly F'ur couldn't even remember how much at this point was what he'd been told and how much was what he'd gleaned. Or even how accurate his mental picture was. But it didn't take a genius, especially not with Fur's background, to note what type of scars F'lix carried. Intimate ones, not gained when one man faced off against another and let the best man live. Intimate scars such as that would leave even deeper ones beneath the surface. His association with F'lix to this point made it clear he wasn't a masochist. (A good thing, considering F'ur wasn't a sadist, no matter what people might think.)

No, every time F'lix shied away, or looked at him with that veiled, suspicious gaze, F'ur wanted to get his hands on the nameless Bendenite that made the kitten act that way. Part of it was how F'lix had been treated, yes, but that wasn't his main reason for wanting to spill the man's blood. No, he still had a hold on the kitten, directing his thoughts and actions and throwing him into uncertainty and distrust. F'ur was far too possessive to take kindly to any other man having such a strong hold over what was his. Would killing him change anything? Possibly not, but then at least it would be a ghost lingering in the younger man's heart, and not a person still walking Pern.

If Saboth couldn't separate him from the other, then he certainly couldn't blame the dragon.

His frown only deepened - the usual control over his features was something he didn't bother to do with F'lix, who by now would be able to tell at least that he was hiding something, if not what - at the display of emotions chasing themself over the kitten's face so swiftly he could not distinguish them. He hadn't meant to...tch. He never meant to, did he? But F'ur couldn't seem to avoid stirring up the younger rider's demons. Eyes closed as the hand passed over his face, a pained look on F'ur's as his fingers traced the back of F'lix's hand, as his lips brushed the man's palm. He accepted the kiss with unusual docility, wondering if it was...an apology. A parting. It angered him on some level, that he just couldn't fight F'lix's past...it lingered beyond his reach and laughed at his helplessness.

His arms fell motionless at his sides, and his brows knitted, the eyes half-opening. Waiting for F'lix to say that he just couldn't continue this. Scared him, was what he'd done, then pushed it when he shouldn't have. Faranth, but he couldn't help it. His emotions were too involved with F'lix to pretend anything less. He couldn't lie to him by acting any different.

Wh-what was that? His head dipped against the one at his neck, and he rested it against the man's head, a hand coming up to the back of his head as the other arm slid around F'lix's waist. "Then why don't you, if you want it?" He murmured in return, a definite touch of sadness in it all F'ur's own. It was the nature of the words and the tenderness of the actions that whispered to him, stating that a 'but' was just around the corner. His arm tightened around F'lix's waist reflexively.

The first sentence of the explanation. That was the important one. What made living with F'ur more of a gamble than seeing him, the older man had to wonder. It wasn't as if they hadn't already spent nights together...that they didn't steal time together as often as it was feasible. He didn't question it, though. The other words were more like F'lix...not the vulnerable, uncertain thing that had at once stolen F'ur's heart and always sent fingers of chilly unease down his spine. So easy to hurt the kitten. So easy, if he wasn't careful.

The other words were more like F'lix, and he chose to hang on those. Pushing him lightly back by the shoulders, it wasn't so far that they weren't touching. He met F'lix's eyes with a searching look that shifted toward sternness. "You'll have full access to my chaos, as you call it. I'm not picky. But..." Here he reached up, poked F'lix lightly on the nose. '...you touch my hat and you're out in the cold, got it?" The older bluerider's frown shifted to a decidedly cheeky grin, and he leaned down to nip the other's earlobe, whispering, "Nothing ventured, nothing gained, kitten."

With that, he stepped back, twirling the hat and settling it on his head with a flourish. It was ridiculous how much he'd taken a fancy to the thing. (Actually, it had seen its first use in their hunting pantomime, which tacked a sentimental value to it that F'ur was unlikely to admit to anyone.) "Someone promised me food, and unless you want me going faint on you - forcing you to drag me around or roll me into a ditch somewhere - we should go see about taking care of that, hm?" His hands returned to his pockets, and he nodded toward the main part of the Gather. "Shall we?"

[rii]

F'lix's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out why F'ur sounded forlorn. This should make the ex-Fortian happy, shouldn't it? It's not like he knew what it meant in the long run. F'lix had the habit of rubbing the people the wrong way, and sure F'ur seemed patient now.. Fingers stole into the other's man's hair, moving slowly along the back of the head.

"F'ur – " Whatever he was about to say halted at the poke. F'lix making a indistinguishable sound as he turned his face away from the assaulting finger. "Wha–" Another sudden movement and F'ur was close again, the attention and low murmur of his voice so close to his ear giving him a slight, pleasant chill. The words only adding to his former confusion until his mind pieced together a possible explanation. It took him a second of a befuddled pause before he responded.

"Wouldn't want you fainting, would I." F'lix returned the peculiar grin. The abrupt change in mood not lost on him, but more often than not F'lix began getting twitchy in serious conversations; the ones that touched around his feelings toward F'ur, at least. So he didn't mind, only wished he was better at masking his inner mood. "You may look like a lightweight, but you're heavy. I wouldn't want to hurt myself trying to lug your dead weight around, so I guess it's in our best interest to prevent that."

He took the first step, not quite around the ex-Fortian. Instead brushing right back up to him with the dangling bits of white bone resting in his dark hair from how close he came – couldn't blame him for it, once he had a taste of being close he was reluctant to return to being at a distance. It was amusing, for F'lix, to look back and think about in the past he had been hesitant to even step near the man.

"I'm really bad with words, aren't I." He quietly said, smiling with humor as he move a hand down F'ur's arm to slip part of his own hand into the pocket (as much as room would allow). His eyes narrowed in an inquiring search of the other's gaze. F'lix knew that posture meant something but he could never give it a proper guess. "I'm saying yes, F'ur. I want to, and I will."

Tilting his head, F'lix began to retract his hand as the sly smile returned. "If there is room for me. My last visit there has me wondering.." He gave the older bluerider a nudge. "I believe your stomach can lead the way."

[Requiem]

F'ur's eyes were obviously laughing at F'lix, the amusement behind them gentle but undeniable. And there was a definite smirky edge to his smile, too. He'd noticed that shiver and it pleased him. What could he say? F'ur liked it that he could still make people feel that way - especially F'lix. (That was not to say he minded at all the appreciation of anyone who cared to offer it to him, but F'lix was really the only one who actually mattered. Admiration - attraction - was always flattering, particularly when you weren't in your twenties anymore.)

The expression only gained amusement at F'lix's response. Only a man the ex-Bendenite's size would consider him heavy, dead weight or not. It certainly wasn't by design, but F'ur couldn't keep weight on to save his life. (And yes, he actually did tend to get faint if he didn't eat an inordinate amount, and often. His wingmates used to laugh that he'd bring food where other men brought weapons on their frequent excursions. Shame that most of those were gone. He missed the comraderie, if nothing else.)

F'ur moved to start back toward the main part of the Gather, but F'lix's hand snaking into his pocket stopped him, the ex-Fortian glancing down at his companion with a questioning smile. The smile turned wry at the younger bluerider's words. Bad with words...well...honestly, yes. But F'ur had never put that much stock in words, anyway. They came so cheap. He chuckled at the young man, amused and touched, really, that F'lix had gone out of his way to make sure F'ur understood; he'd figured that out a moment ago, but that it was important enough to F'lix to stop him...said something.

"The furry fort of fortitude could always use some denizens. I believe it's growing lonely," he commented flatly. There was definitely something of a benefit to having no neighbors. (Not that it would be highly intelligent to put another dragon on the same ledge as Inocenth. They'd been very careful in their assignments at Fort - usually a brown ended up next to him, as they tended to be the least excitable.) "You and your things should have room enough then, I believe." He didn't bother to mention that the younger man lived so austerely that all he owned could probably be shoved under F'ur's bed.

"My stomach or my nose," he agreed mildly. The ex-Fortian strode forward with his own distinctive swagger, cutting a swathe with his presence alone. At least subconsciously, people seemed to know who to avoid. The older man stopped by a stall and leaned back against it, nodding to F'lix. "I'm not picky, so if you're hungry you'd best do the ordering." He shot a smile at the vendor from over his shoulder.

[rii]

"Fur's furry fort of fortitude.." F'lix repeated with a touch of amusement. As long as F'ur didn't expect him to stay over in the jointed weyr. It didn't make sense, for one thing, since it would be living next door and he already did live in a weyr alongside the ex-Fortian. Other than that, the smell of the tanning lotions and drying hides gave him a headache after a while. A scent he wasn't accustom too so it still registered strongly to his sense. He wasn't aware of the faint aroma of cloves that lingered in his own weyr..

Following alongside F'ur, F'lix was able to follow not by visual of the confident strider, but the small motions the body made when going to make a turn, to slow, stop, so on and so forth. Only when the came to the stall did F'lix realize he had slowed a half step behind, more intent on watching F'ur than minding the crowd.

He blinked at the man, the vendor, then down at the available edibles. A slight frown marred his features. He wasn't a picky eater, really. Merely liked his meat rare, fruit fresh.. and well, he didn't each much, just picked at things. Was he suppose to order for them both? Hn. "One of everything. Two if it doesn't look like there is enough to feed three men. Some wine too – " That's all he really wanted.

Digging out his pouch of marks, F'lix paid for the platter – hoping F'ur was as hungry as he suggested. Balancing the tray with one hand, the dark figure took the wine in the other and steered off to claim an available table. One he set the food on, stepping up onto the bench and opting to sit on the table itself instead of the bench. F'lix never claimed to have manners. He gave the crowd a curious look over.. ignorant of the way Simper hopped down to curl possessively around one of the kabobs and chew on a hunk of meat.

His fingers tipped the wine to his lips as his mind reverted back to wondering what it would be like living with F'ur. A distant look overtaking his features as he stared at a point above the moving head of the crowds..

[Requiem]

Their own silly joke, that. Of course, you just had to laugh at the elaborate furniture-and-hide fort born out of unreasonable paranoia the day after he Impressed Terror. It was a good thing he'd gotten better with dealing with the salamandyr. Imagining that as a commonplace thing was downright ludicrous.

F'ur laughed outright at F'lix's order, his eyebrows hitting his hairline. Really? "You make me sound like a bottomless pit," he teased the younger man quietly...though not so quiet that the vender couldn't hear. It wasn't that he couldn't eat that much, of course. He could and more. Not exactly all at once, so he hoped that F'lix intended to stay put for awhile. The thing about men with stomachs that touched their spine? They tended to poof out after remotely large meals and feel bloated, a feeling that F'ur didn't particularly enjoy. (Though he wasn't really anywhere near that skinny.) No, he was the type to eat little bits constantly. Which was probably why his naturally quick metabolism was so ridiculously fast. After turns of that, it was on hyper speed.

Trailing after F'lix, he leaned against the table, opting not to sit and placing a hand on the younger man's boot. It wasn't direct contact, but then...anything more would probably have seemed strange, and F'lix seemed anxious about their being too open about their relationship in public. He reached around, stealing a bit of meat and juggling it from hand to hand, hissing, before it cooled enough to hold, his hand dropping back to the other bluerider's foot. "Daydreaming again," he commented, glancing at F'lix out of the corner of his eye.

It didn't look like a brooding look, though likely only F'ur could tell the difference. F'lix's map of scowls and frowns was nearly as varied and versatile as F'ur's arsenal of smiles. "Awful lot of fops wandering around here. Did you see the one with ribbons? And that lady with her shard-blasted hoop skirt...big enough to hide four men underneath and still have room for a drunken brawl. I've never understood the point of hoop skirts. Look like giant cloth bells."

[rii]

His eyebrow arched, not fully pulling out of his inner word of thoughts, but on that particular route. F'lix's head jerked toward F'ur, a clear snapping out of it and attempting to tune back in on.. whatever he might have missed in those few short moments. Cue owlish blink.

The pressure on his foot, though, was easily felt through the thin slipper and F'lix tapped his foot twice against the wooden bench. It was nice to have the contact.. but not so much when the man was eating. F'lix never made it a secret he wasn't fond of getting dirty, and grease definitely took the cake when it came to substances that made him want to instantly bathe. F'lix hopped off the table and sat down next to F'ur leaning frame – facing out while the man faced more toward the food. His own side leaned lightly against F'ur, the positioning also keeping him from having to see F'ur eat (It was uncomfortable to watch, and the accompany noises tended to make him twitch).

"Not the ribbons. The skirt was impossible to miss," Ah F'lix, ever the people watcher. Although this particular seat on level with the others made it a tad difficult to do any sight seeing. The ex-Bendenite enjoyed heights – ideal for spying watching over the gather. People had the tendency to never look up, and the addition of masks lessened their awareness all that much more. "Maybe.. " F'lix began to offer some sort of conclusion to the peculiar style. "She hides a lover under there. Unless you've checked–" And F'lix shot F'ur a playful look. "Add in a bit of wine and you never know what people might do for kicks. Did you see the fellow with the hat?"

Innocently F'lix looked back out at the gather, following his comment with a distraction. "How do you feel about relocating?"