A Greenrider's Green Pants

Western Weyr - Ground Level Guest Weyr
This spaceous ground level weyr was hand hewn from the volcanic rock of the island, leaving the black walls and floor somewhat rough and uneven. Softening the darkness of the weyr are many small glows placed in alcoves just above eye level which cast a warm, yellow light.
Defined by a large, plush rug from the weavercraft is the living area for the riders. Several chairs, a writing desk, a large bed and a wardrobe are scattered in a pleasing fashion upon the blue-green rug. On the walls are several tapistries showing scenes of dragon's cavorting in Western's lagoon, dolphins at play on the sea and a dragon's eye view of Western Weyr as seen from the lookout point at the top of the crater.


Ah, post flight mornings. They are often very lovely. And this one is very lovely. And very dark. With no windows, and no way to tell what time it is, S'ol's only chronometer is Tarieth, and she's far from awake right now. He fidgets a bit as the bleariness of sleep slips away slowly from him. The realization he isn't alone doesn't faze him, he just curls up even more comfortably into the strong shoulder of the person he spent the night with. A dreamy sort of sigh escapes him and a deep breath and he closes his eyes again. No need to go anywhere.

Most weyrs were pretty dark. The bedroom areas rarely have windows, even if you're in one of the luxurious ground weyrs. Suldith will usually wake Zi'on when biology doesn't kick in. But since the night was spent flying instead of sleeping, even the bronze is still snoozing. Zi'on himself is a night-owl, so he would sleep until noon everyday if given the chance. Zi'on is also used to a restless weyrmate who is up and down throughout the night and generally wakes up before him. At the fidgeting Zi'on doesn't move, or even really seem to wake up. But he does ask "What time is it?" clear enough to be understood.

S'ol yawns, and opens his eyes, only a little bit, only long enough to try and see who he's with, remembering completely, then yawning again. "I have no idea," he admits, and puts his head onto the other man's chest. "Morning maybe?" Though it wouldn't surprise S'ol if it was afternoon. The flight did take place pretty late at night.

Whoa! That was not the voice Zi'on was expecting! He jumps a bit, and jerks himself awake. Oh right, it was all coming back to him now! "Shards and shells. S'ol." He laughs. "You scared me. I forgot where I was." Zi'on yawns and rubs his face with his free hand and then partakes in some choice scratching. "Nrm… It's probably past morning. I had to get up out of bed to come here I think." He reaches for the glow basket on the nightstand and flips it open so they can see.

S'ol sits up groggily. He's starting to get used to waking up with random people after a flight. But its something interesting to wake up with the weyrleader. That reaction makes him smile, then he winces a bit with the light. "I was already awake when she took off. She obviously couldn't sleep that night and she kept me up too…" he pulls the blankets up and yawns. "I think I'll sleep in…"

Once S'ol is off him the weyrleader sits up as well. He stretches out and pops his back a bit. "I can imagine not." He says about not being able to sleep. "I was asleep though. Kiena is probably mad at me for running out like that on her. I wonder if Ujinath chased at all." If he had Kiena is sure to be extra mad at Zi'on. He laughs at S'ol. "Well, you go ahead and do that." Zi'on gets out of bed and heads to washroom. Woo, nekid weyrleader!

S'ol watches Mr Nekid going with approving and appraising eyes. Mrow. That Kiena is a very lucky woman. Wait…no…bad S'ol! Think unsexy thoughts! Think unsexy thoughts! "Oh, now I don't think I can sleep…" he says, more to himself than anything else, and sits up. Hm, naked weyrleader in the washroom. No…bad idea. Very bad idea. He covers his head with the blanket.

Zi'on is unawares of any ogling. He just needs to use the bathroom! Kiena might beg to differ with the greenrider. She has to deal with him all the time and with his other more annoying bits of his persona. It wasn't all just sexy times! Once his business is finished Zi'on comes out and rubs his face a bit. "Beard is coming in nice." Zi'on is hairy in general. Though most of it is confined to his legs, arms, chest and head. His nether regions are… sculpted. He looks around to see if he can locate his clothes. It was always harder when it was two men.

S'ol has the well tailored fine woven clothing, of course, being from the Weavercraft. He looks over the covers, sneaking a long look at him. "Yes it is," he rubs his own chin, searching in vain for stubble. "Can you hand me my clothes while you're up?"
Then again, it would be hilarious if they both wore each other's clothes out of the weyr. Or maybe not.

Who knows what sort of clothes Zi'on had thrown on in the middle of the night? Whatever he could find probably. Hopefully nothing of his weyrmate's or that will be an awkward walk back. Zi'on tosses whatever clothes he can find onto the bed. He holds up a pair of boxer shorts. "Are these yours or mine? I can't find a second pair. Maybe I didn't wear any."

S'ol looks suddenly bashful. "I wear briefs," he admits, and looks under the blankets. "Maybe I had them on when we…" Blush. "Ah, I think I'll be fine…" Oh that is awkward. But he wears long tunics so its not like he has to hide much…So anyways….

Zi'on slides into the boxers then. "Ah, good deal. Underpants mystery solved." Crisis averted! Not that Zi'on would have had any problem walking back to the weyr commando. Zi'on smoothes out his hair and puts on the pair of shorts he apparently put on before coming over. He tries to put on a shirt, but it's a little too small on him. Or a lot too small. Zi'on is quite a bit taller than S'ol is, and probably a bit broader through the shoulders. "Ack. This must be yours." He tosses it to the greenrider. "I need some klah…"

S'ol takes the tunic that lands on his head and quickly pulls it on. "Me too," he now is covered, okay maybe he's a little awkward in the mornings, and picks up a pair of trousers. "These are definitely mine," they're a little bit…skin tight, and bright green. He pulls them on. "Now, um, socks, shoes and I'm going back to my own weyr for a longer sleep." Poor S'ol. He's not looking upset about having been kept up half the night though. The other half was rather pleasant.

It would probably be easier if Zi'on were a little more modest. Or more interested in men. As it stands though he's mostly interested in getting back home, getting some klah and a bath. Zi'on laughs at the pants. "How do you even fit into those? They look like they're crushing your junk!" Zi'on gives S'ol a friendly tap on the behind, then pulls on his shirt. Really it's more an undershirt than a tunic. And then puts on his sandals. It was a little cool for such a get up, but when you're in a hurry…

S'ol turns bright red, then jumps a little at the tap. "They're for looks more than comfort," he admits, pulling his tunic down a little lower. "Um, have you seen my shoes?" he looks under the bed.

Zi'on chuckles. "I figured as much. Did they get you some action before the flight?" The bronzer wouldn't be caught wearing anything like that unless he'd lost a bet or something. He looks around around his feet for S'ol's shoes. "Hmm. I don't see them. Maybe they're outside? Right outside the door or something maybe?"

S'ol thinks about it. "Now that I think about it, I'm not sure I had my shoes on…" he does find his socks though. "Socks but no shoes? Eech," he sticks his tongue out. Okay, so maybe he's a little finicky and fancy. He's not a big brawny burly type, and he's got so many weaver relatives that he's never had to worry about clothes, so he wears maybe stuff that are strange or exotic. But he will not fight with the weyrleader over his clothes. "Next flight I'll try not to grab my smallest pair of pants," and maybe wear shoes too.

Zi'on chuckles. "No? You were walking around in your socks but no shoes? That's strange. At least it's not wet out I suppose." Zi'on really wasn't that big and burly, but he's never found the appeal in lots of fancy clothes. He could probably stand to get a few more nice clothes, but it seemed a hassle to call in his weaver all the time. "Heh. I don't care what you wear. Especially in a flight, since it's all gotta come off eventually anyways." Zi'on moves over to give S'ol a somewhat manly hug and musses his hair. "I should get going."

S'ol enjoys the hug for what it is. But he has this feeling he's going to be feeling a little odd the next time he sees the Weyrleader. "Until next flight then," he winks and then starts to double check the blankets, and under the bed. He hates losing things and wants to make sure before he leaves.


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