Garden Snuggles

Winter - Month 1 of Turn 2716
Half Moon Bay Weyr - Rooftop Garden

Soft grasses form a lawn central to this open air garden, producing a pleasant picnic space. Surrounding this greenery is a sanded and bordered path that wends around it and continues toward the front of the roof, where the pleasant aromas of cultivated herbs waft on the breeze. Rock gardens and low-hanging tropical trees form shelter from the elements, combined with an overhanging jut of the caldera wall, underneath which benches and sun chairs have been arrayed, rather like a natural gazebo.

Language Warning

Only in Half Moon Bay (alright, and every other tropical or southern-esque location. HUSH) is the dead of winter a PERFECT time for outdoor naps. Sunshine, but with tree-cover to protect sensitive skin and eyes. Warm, but with a pleasantly cool breeze to keep things from being humid and sweaty. No bugs, because of said breeze and season. Basically, it's a perfect day. (Because I said so that's why). Soft blanket, with enough space for two way-too-tall bronzeriders to stretch out and STILL have room to spare. And S'van. Who is taking advantage of that giant-ass blanket and stretching out on his back, one arm draped over his eyes in that casual, 'I'm just resting my eyes but really I'm sleeping' way of his, the other palm resting casually on his stomach. Boots have been removed and cast to the side, to avoid bringing dirt or leaves or whatever else might be on them from getting on the blanket. He's still wearing leathers from drills, but he's ditched his jacket somewhere along the way, leaving a comfortable navy tee-shirt (and pants) as the only cover between him and the world.

It was a perfect day, as if it had been specifically designed with someone specific in mind. No bugs, minimal dirt, decent cover, prone weyrmate laying on blanket all alone. All the conditions were right to lure elusive and solitary wingleaders out of hiding places and into the open. As he ascends the steps to the rooftop garden, he strips off his riding jacket, wanting to feel the breeze on his skin, even as golden eyes sweep over the area as if to make sure there wasn't anyone else lurking. It was beautiful out, so it was possible, but as his gaze lands on that young bronzerider over yonder it didn't matter anymore if there was. Jacket in hand, he turns his feet in that direction and is soon lowering himself to sit in the empty space S'van did not occupy, all without invitation. In all likelihood that was probably his blanket anyway, so there. Setting his coat side, he works on unbuckling and untying his boots, pulling them off his feet one by one until he could wiggle them in freedom of their confinement. Today's remaining attire consisted of those should be illegal riding pants of his and a blood red tanktop, seeing as he'd just put his boots in the same general location as his jacket. He doesn't lay down beside the brunet, but rather draws his legs up with bent knees wrapping his arms around them loosely and securing the position by idly fiddling with the chunky ring present on one long finger. His body language suggested relaxation, but his eyes remain ever vigilant as if he was on guard for possible intruders who might disturb the snoozing wingrider behind him.

To be fair… it is a well-tended garden near a very civilized location, so it is conceivable that things do not get out of hand in the bug-and-dirt department. And J'en has a standing invitation, so there was no need to ask. His blanket. His weyrmate. Who made sure to leave space (even if he's since gone to sprawling). And perhaps S'van was not as asleep as he first appeared. There's a little shift, a lift of his arm and a glance of grey eyes toward the person occupying space on his (J'en's) blanket. A moment later and he's shifting in all of those ways that indicate a change in position; stretching out all of the things that get tight and knotted from remaining motionless for far too long on an unforgiving surface. A rock of his body and he comes up, swinging an arm around his weyrmate's waist and leaning in to press a kiss to his shoulder. A lingering kiss, with a gentle drag of teeth at the end of it. Because Sev is in a good mood. "Hey," murmured where his lips still linger, though his grey eyes are lifted, peeking up mischievously at Jae.

The second that S'van moves, the muscles along Jae's back tighten and he's glancing over his shoulder to watch the man stretch and ease the aching of too long immobile appendages, with no more thought given to anyone who might suddenly appear to tend or not to bugs and dirt. So when grey eyes seek the person now occupying that blanket, there are golden ones there to meet them. He doesn't say anything, merely rests his face against his shoulder, lashes lowering and that longer section of black hair falling over to obscure everything beyond the opposing side of his nose. From there he is motionless, observing in silence, his single eyed gaze following the younger rider's repositioning and all tension draining from him the moment that S'van's arm swings around his waist. This, is where he was the most comfortable, with the one who was the most welcome in his very personal space. A soft sound, indistinguishable, emerges; a rumble of sorts inspired by pressing of lips against that tattooed flesh. It's quickly followed by a quickened intake of breath for those teeth though and he's thankful that the shiver that comes after that, was subtle. Being a public place and all, one never knew who was watching. "…'ey." he murmurs back, eyes having dropped to where lips still lingered but lifting to match gaze for gaze. "Whatcha sleepin' out 'ere for?"

A grin, undoubtedly felt against that tattooed skin where S'van remains. Another kiss, another nip, and then he pulls away from his shoulder. A scootch of his body and he brings himself solidly against him, arm still wrapped around but now pressing into his side as well. He takes full advantage of his welcome within that personal space, putting just about as much of himself against as much of J'en as possible without actually pulling the bronzerider into his lap. "Mm. Why not?" is the almost smart-ass answer. It hints around the edges, in the grin that curls the corners of his mouth and the gleam of his eyes. "It's nice. Might as well enjoy it before it starts raining again. And it's quiet." Right now, at least. "Everyone else is busy," which means he probably should have been, too. But instead of dwelling on what he might have been doing, S'van is going to concentrate on lavishing affection on his weyrmate. "Did you need me?"

Oh, J'en can feel it, that grin. Once the source of so much ire he couldn't contain it, now a comfort, the curl of his own mouth into a soft smile found where his face was still turned in towards that same so adored shoulder. He hardly even notices the way his body reacted to S'van just then, the subtleness of that shiver for lips and teeth, far more busy watching his beloved weyrmate for whom he was grateful for so much. Even if sometimes it didn't seem like it. CoughXanaducough. Brows lift as S'van repositions and invades as much of his bubble as possible, not because of it, but rather his response to the question he'd posed. Nothing new, his weyrmate had made it very clear long ago even before they were a 'they', that he did whatever he wanted and to hell with the consequences. Exhibit A, the teeth marks permanently etched into the skin at the back of his neck. "Stupid question," J'en snorts, that slight smile increasing as his shoulders bob in a silent chuckle. "I dun mind it when it rains so much." People tended to stay indoors and away from him, so that was a plus in his book. A flicker of attention around, that could hardly be considered a cursory glance and then he looks back to the younger rider, "I noticed." And it was thankfully still the case, hence why he was so damned relaxed without a hint of tension anywhere to be found. In fact, he leans in against the man practically wrapped around him, lifting his head and presses his lips to that place where Sev's ear met jaw. A gentle nuzzle at the hint of moisture left behind, "Always."

Xana-who? Ancient history. Forgiven, just as everything is, when it comes to J'en. Infrequent moments of respite may be required for the collection of thoughts, but S'van will always return to where he belongs, and the person he belongs to. Even when that person is at his most growly, there is nowhere the younger bronzerider would rather be. And when he is not being so growly, such as now? Heaven. And cause for much mirth and mischief and smiles and nibbling of shoulders and invasion of personal space because Sev is going to get in there while the getting is good. And right now? It was very good. "You look good in the rain," he decides. "It's distracting." In only the best way. But when one is supposed to be flying drills or doing something productive… well. Distractions have consequences. Such as broken toes. A softer smile, and a subtle swallow, for that kiss to the spot on his neck; a tightening of his arm and a turn to press his lips against whatever he might find nearest; hair, forehead, ear. A warmth in his chest, for words that he knows are true but still enjoys hearing. "Come on," and there's a little tug-like motion with his arm. "Lay down with me," because they have a wonderful, giant blanket, and a perfect day, and sitting up is stilly when they could be sprawling.

Undoubtedly, being S'van's wingleader and all, J'en was aware of what he should probably be doing instead of taking naps in the shade of the garden. Extra sweeps for him, because it was only fair to the others, and Faranth forbid anyone think he gave one of his riders preferential treatment. He didn't need to point this out, of course, it was a given the second he spotted the lazing bronzerider. As for the mood change conveniently timed with his weyrmate's turnday and the activities there of? That was interesting, wasn't it S'van? A very distinct lack of growly there was, not in the least perturbed by all the mischief, grins, nibbling, being all up in his business. Quite the opposite in fact, as that soft hidden smile remains, reaching up to add laughter to those lidded golden eyes. That is, until that comment about the rain, and at that point J'en looks away and his lashes lower fractionally more. Was…was he blushing? That there visible cheek there did seem a bit rosy now didn't it? Another soft snort is all the response otherwise, eyes sliding closed for the lips that find his exposed skin somewhere and before S'van can get too far with all that tugging soft lips find his own. Lingering, a gentle pressure behind it, with a brush of the back of his fingers to his cheek. "I love you," effortless against his lips, then, that single visible golden eye heavily lashed as he leans back away again. A moment later he diverts his attention again, this time to the blanket. "Ya wanna lay down 'ere?" Assumedly both of his brows lift for that, but he doesn't seem entirely opposed to the idea.

It could be that the thing S'van should be doing isn't related to Wing stuff at all? It could be, like… laundry. Or… yeah. OK. It's probably Wing stuff. But if asked, he would undoubtedly say that double-sweeps were worth it. Worth the nap in the garden. Definitely worth the alone-time with J'en. MORE than worth that pink-cheeked look for innocent compliments. There's a grin for that, but no more words, apparently unwilling to test just how far this good-mood will go before the growling abounds. Whatever might have been on his mind, whirling behind mischievous grey eyes and devilish half-grins, it's whisked away with the brush of lips and those three effortless words. Words that he has heard before, that are not as infrequent as they once were, but still have the power to render him briefly speechless with the way they are said. A breath, quickly inhaled, and S'van briefly forgets he'd had any sort of thought to laying down and sprawling, grey eyes fixed on his weyrmate before he's reaching out with his free hand to catch Jae around the back of his head and pull him forward for a much more thorough kiss; slow and deep, but hungry just the same. Does he want to lay down here? "No," murmured when the kiss ends and he's pulled away enough to speak. "Not here," not anymore. "I want to take you home, so I can put my hands on your body and no one will interrupt us."

J'en was certainly not complaining about the extra alone time out in the middle of the day with S'van, as they were generally so busy most of them, only getting that quality of time in the morning when he was half asleep or in the evening when he was exhausted. He rubs the newfound heat of his cheek against his shoulder, remaining quiet while it remained, and secretly checking to make sure that no one had snuck up on them while he was otherwise distracted. Kissing his weyrmate was one of his everyday pleasures, as often as he could manage, even if it was chaste and full of affection for him rather than lust. As for those three little words? Well, lets just say that someone had been practicing them in private to get that one difficult word just right and absolutely free of accent, just so he didn't have to think quite so hard to sound it out beforehand. All too soon he is caught, blinking in surprise as a hand slides into his hair and he's pulled into a kiss that was anything but chaste. All lips and tongue, with that hint of teeth and entirely thorough to boot. J'en makes a soft sound as he melts into the public display of affection, all too pliant, and all too willing. Perhaps not as hungry as his weyrmate seemed to be, but that wasn't really the point when he is soon leaning back in and catches a handful of that blue tee. So when they part, the older rider is breathing a little harder, just enough to be noticeable. A ghost of a smile, kissing him softly again. There, pressing gently and then, "…'ow I get anythin' done with ya sayin' shit like that is a fuckin' miracle…" Because he's still J'en, through and through. "Guess ya should take meh home then…"

Add a New Comment
Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License