Scuttle Scuttle [F'ur]

[rii]

F'ur's wording made F'lix glance toward his the covered dish of butter. If only it were in reach, he might have made a literal parody out of his buttering comments. Robbed of his opportunity, F'lix scrunched his nose at his weyrmate, settling some weight against him. He hadn't intended to behave so surreptitious to make F'ur believe the whole thing had been pre-meditated with a certain goal in mind. It would of been manipulative. Yet, he had intended to propose a specific question tonight..

F'lix sank a bit farther, laying chest to chest with the older man. An uncertainty about him even as he let the crab hang in it's own state of limbo. It should have been expected, the way F'lix eyes shifting to the side and his head turning enough to mask his facial expression; tucked below F'ur's jawline. "No.. it isn't. I really did just want to spend some time with you outside of the weyr."

It was silly, he knew, to feel a touch offended by the teasing. It wasn't an act. Irrationally F'lix had the desire to drop the subject completely. Just hoard his small secrets, like the few things he had bought for F'ur at the gather over a turn ago; items still sitting dormant in the bottom of his trunk. He couldn't even begin to explain why it felt so difficult to give something as simple as a gift to F'ur.

F'lix surrendered the rest of his weight, cheek resting against F'ur's collarbone. "I was thinking.. I could do another inking.. on you." With a small flick of wrist he tossed the crab aside, twisting the same hand around until he could press his palm against F'urs, not threading fingers just then, his touch centering around the older man's ring finger. "A small one.. .. here."

Perhaps it was just the hold folk that found it symbolic. F'lix liked it, an endless loop meant to signify eternity; of loyalty, of love, of whatever a person wanted it to mean. A metal ring could be taken off though, the inking really would be forever (unless of course F'ur decided to flay off his own skin, then there would still be a scar there to remind him). F'lix felt his heart double it's pace. It felt like he was asking too much. If he hadn't grounded himself, likely the young bluerider would have rushed off to busy himself with some task to settle his nerves. As it was, F'lix only free hand had slipped down to draw indiscernible shapes in the sand.

"It was just a.. whim.. " he lied, though he tried not to make a big deal out of the peculiar request. It had been an idea in his mind for a long while.

[Requiem]

Yeah, oops. Foot in mouth syndrome. F'ur set the spear aside, sliding his hand up F'lix's back and into the hair at the back of his neck. "I know, and I'm sorry," he murmured. Of course he knew that F'lix liked spending time with him. He hadn't meant it like the kitten's only purpose for coming out here was to attempt to wheedle something out of him. It just seemed like he was working up to something, was all; things didn't have to be so black-and-white as all that. "Just teasing you, kit. You and your secrets," he added, flicking at the younger man's nose before returning his fingers to his weyrmate's hair.

The hand stilled as F'lix pressed his palm against F'ur's other palm, the older bluerider frowning slightly before comprehension dawned. He'd left his response too long, though, and F'lix was already backpedaling. Just a whim. No pressure. Not that important. So close, though, F'lix couldn't hide much, and F'ur closed his eyes, ghosting his lips over the other bluerider's temple. He allowed F'lix to keep his illusion of privacy. He wasn't sure why, exactly, but his weyrmate was very reluctant to be too...tender, maybe, was the word. Like he was afraid he'd seem weak or soft or just too invested. Or maybe it had something to do with that bronzerider. At any rate, whatever F'lix was afraid of, it was unfounded.

"You want to ink my ring finger. I wasn't really interested in rings, because that's a hold thing, and we wouldn't be welcome there. But I like the idea of an inking." He curled his fingers through F'lix's. "Of course, I'll probably be ticklish so you may regret trying it," he added, the teasing note back in his voice. "Or I may regret it when you get frustrated and whack me upside the head for twitching so much." He coiled the hand just in F'lix's hair beneath an arm and tugged him up further, so he could kiss him properly instead of on the forehead like the younger man was a child or something.

"You should get your inks."

[rii]

F'ur read him all too well at times. Even if F'ur didn't say anything, the physical response alone spoke well enough. F'lix had been unable to mask the nervous build up. Not that the younger rider wanted to hide anything from his weyrmate, but the comforting hand in hair and calming brush of lips to his temple made it difficult to tell if he was getting a true response to the idea, or one made to soothe his nerves.

Still, a kiss was a kiss and F'lix's hand wormed out of the other glove to slide fingers through F'ur's hair. A familiar spark reminding his body of his previous level of interest. He hadn't forgotten, but the dip in his mood made for somber thoughts – temporarily. F'lix drew his head back, feigning disbelief, "You want me to move?" The inks were out of reach. Still, shifting his weight to knees, F'lix snatched up the discarded gloves before sitting upright. A searching looked settled on the older man, F'lix golden eyes slowly sweeping back and forth between F'ur's. The jabs about possibly regretting it were probably nothing to make note of, but..

"You can say no. Don't you dare agree to it just because you don't want to upset me."

Because, straddling F'ur's hip with a light scowl on and lightly smacking the gloves against F'ur's side was so very threatening. "I won't be. I just don't want you to laugh at it." F'lix already knew he was a bit of a fool; he didn't need to be rudely reminded, nor shamed into resembling a tomato. Hissing from the fire drew F'lix's attention. First a turn of head, followed with his torso and the action of crawling over to his pack to dig out the butter. A finger-scoop of butter was pushed in through the ruptured shell of each crab to make sure they didn't get to dry and burn while cooking.

F'lix once again sat back on his heels, flicking the melted butter in F'ur's direction, smirking. Buttered up yet?

[Requiem]

Such a somber look. F'ur propped himself up on one elbow, hand stealing forward to wrap around a thigh as far as his fingers would allow. The joking apparently wasn't enough to take the edge off F'lix's agitation. The older man almost laughed at himself. Well, of course. You didn't expect other people to be comfortable with their vulnerability when you were still keeping a distance, however small it might have been; F'ur was too used to their wordless understanding. It wasn't easy for him to be open, either, so the two of them usually let other things communicate it for them. He smiled a wry smile as the gloves smacked against his side. Well, he could open up, if he tried. F'lix was not...he wasn't a mistake. And the younger man wouldn't judge him weak for a little sentimentality.

Oh, psht. Excellent timing, crabs. Although...maybe he should thank them, given the view. F'ur's leg drew further in, the man turning onto his side and very blatantly watching his weyrmate with a decidedly hungry look. He watched for a moment before sliding up himself and inching closer. It didn't prevent him from getting drops of butter spattered on his face, but he managed a lunge that captured F'lix's wrist. "Being bad again," he commented. "Painting whiskers on me and flicking stuff at me. Have I not been giving you enough attention lately? That's what the headshrinkers always say about people acting up." It wasn't a genuine question. F'ur's best (human) friend was his companion of choice, and they definitely found time for each other.

He licked the butter off F'lix's fingers, pressing him back and away from the fire enough to give them a little room. The crabs should keep for awhile yet. Fingers clean, the wrist was released so F'ur could tug the shirt over F'lix's head, tossing it onto a nearby rock. His hands ran up the man's sides as he pushed him down slowly with his own weight, nipping his jaw. He leaned down, crossing his arms on F'lix's chest and brushing his lips lightly over his weyrmates before pulling up just enough to meet his eyes comfortably. "I don't think you understand, kit." One of his arms moved enough to brush the hair back from his temple. "I'm yours, and I don't ever want to be anyone else's. I don't care if it's an inking of a ring around my finger or your name on my neck where anyone can see it."

He kissed F'lix lightly, sliding back to rest his chin on his folded arms. "However you want to mark me. I want everyone to know just by looking. Because I'm not ashamed of you. I'm proud." He snorted softly. "How many men can claim landing a catch like you?" Ah, how he preferred it this way, skin-on-skin. That shirt had been such a nuisance. "Now. I mentioned the inks so you could do it before the light fades, but honestly...I think it can wait. Firelight should be just as good. Or we can do it tomorrow. 'Cause right now, I'm going to need a lot of persuading to find myself another bed as comfortable." He smirked wickedly, biting and sucking at F'lix's earlobe.

[rii]

Acting up; perhaps. F'lix could not deny he thoroughly enjoyed the effects it usually had on his weyrmate. Made his pulse jump to watch the older man's body language shift, from the playful bounce to dangerous, predatory glide; stalking after him with full intentions to land a pounce. Loved that weight pressing him down, pinning him. F'lix surrendered the shirt, arms falling in around F'ur's shoulders and he did his best to keep his attention and eyes on F'ur's face – even if it was partly done out of stubbornness. F'lix was acutely aware that he was losing their little game (or had F'ur forfeited, it was hard to tell, both of them won in the end anyway).

He would have preferred those lips elsewhere though..

His clean hand slid through F'ur's hair, F'lix swallowing to again force himself to focus on the words. He felt relieved - a strange release of tension that he hadn't realized he had been holding on the inside. F'ur understood what it meant. F'lix wouldn't have felt right doing it if the man just humoring him, thinking it some weird fetish with inking skin. "Thank you," He whispered as their lips drew apart; mentally noting that being pinned in this fashion did have it's nuisances. Couldn't rise up to keep a claim on those lips.

Patiently, with slitted gold eyes, F'lix laid his head back on the sand and smiled up at his weyrmate. "Oh, I think all of them think one of us, or both of us, are a bit touched in the head." He teased, hands tracking up F'ur's sides. "But that's alright. I don't want them knowing any better. I'm not big on sharing — candoitt'morrow." The agreement came swiftly without a pause to considering the options. The inks could wait another day. F'lix fingers dug into the back of F'ur's shoulder, an approving growl sounding as he trekked them back up into F'ur's hair. The other hand slipped fingers past the hem of pants.

"The crabs are going to burn," A weak protest, one he didn't mean. Even the nagging thought of the sand getting everywhere didn't do much to convince him to fight for distance. Should of brought a blanket. Chuckling quietly at himself, F'lix turned his face toward F'ur's – laughing at himself because he could never refuse his lover. Damn him. F'ur knew exactly what he was doing. Well, well.. hn.. F'lix brushed his lips over F'ur's ear, whispering. "Love you."

Yes. It was revenge. Kinda.

~fin~