Surprise Gifts

Autumn - Month 9 of Turn 2715
Half Moon Bay Weyr - Industrial Loft Weyr
Immediately upon entering the space opens up into a small living space which comfortably contains an enormous four cushioned couch, and two armchairs to match. There are two glass tables, one tall and thin situated between the chairs, and the other short and squat nestled in the middle of the setting complete with a blood red shaggy looking carpet beneath. Along the back wall is a fully stocked bar with a black stone slab counter and four tall chrome stools which seamlessly blends into a matching kitchen type area, with all cabinets for storage recessed to save on space. An island serves as both food prep and an intimate dining area with two more of those stools, a refrigerator tucked into a nook where it will not be in the way. To the right, a long row of bookshelves leading to a reading area, a strange looking machine set up on a desk across the way which occasionally makes a mechanical whirring sound, but the single chair pushed up against it says that it probably not as intimidating as it appears. The lighting in the main area is all recessed up into the ceiling, with a panel beside the entryway to control them.
To the left is complex bit of construction carved out of the very rock itself. On the bottom level is a private bathroom with latrine and a glass encased shower, as well as a workbench laid out with various tools of a computer crafter's trade, a single rolling stool the only place to perch. To access the upper level, one will have to climb. A set of stairs depicted by industrial steps affixed into stone lead up to a loft of sorts. A railing prevents accidental falls, and is just wide enough to support the low set king sized bed with its black and red bedding and two small nightstands on either side. Atop them are small electric lights which turn off and on with but a single touch. An upright piano has been tucked against the wall across from the stairs, the stool before it small enough to fit beneath, and a storage space for clothing is hidden behind a silky red curtain just there to the left.

WARNING: Def. rated R. Language. Snuggling. Suggestive-suggestions.

(log immediatly following "broken")

Annnnnnnd he's out ladies and gents. For the count, for the evening, for as long as it takes for Jae to assemble the many many pieces of a very annoyed craftsman whom he had irked in his myriad of unreasonable demands for perfection. Why? Because only the best for S'van, that's why. J'en had stood just out of drug-abled ability to see and watched his weyrmate lose the struggle, getting himself more water as soon as there was no more truth being slurred on the way to unconsciousness. Irritated again, this time with himself briefly, because he was blushing terribly and the more that S'van slurred those sorts of things, the darker and hotter his face felt. "I love ya too, now shut up and sleep," he tosses back that way sounding much more soft than he wanted it to, already turning his back and heading toward the crates. Crates that are all forced open with a crowbar and unpacked. Sure enough twenty pieces, all in their own crate. Fortunately, the man who'd passive aggressively done this in retaliation of the commissioner's less than warm demeanor, had included instructions. It's actually several hours before J'en is stepping back from that beautiful and ornate pool table he ordered, finally exactly as it should have been delivered but he possessed a short temper and a big mouth sometimes. Another sigh heaved, he sets about mounting the cue rack, all the little bits and bobs, the rack and the balls that went into the rack. By the end of it all, Jae was starting to hope he never had to see another pool table for as long as he lived, carrying the much lighter crates back out to the ledge to be broken down later and burned in effigy. Then, a shower, food, more water and he somehow manages to crawl onto the couch with S'van. Legs over his lap, head resting on one arm. Sleep is not far off, no, it steals him away almost the instant that he relaxes. For how long, depended on S'van.

And the answer to that is… a long time. Between the time it takes for Jae to assemble things into an actual, legit object (POOL TABLE!!), and the several more hours that the pair are passed-out on the sofa, the evening has come and gone. The sun has set, and thankfully taken a bit of that insufferable heat with it so that by the time there is any stirring to be found in the weyr, the air has cooled considerably and is actually somewhat pleasant. And that stirring comes not from the pair of bronzeriders, but from the four-legged furry creature that shares — ahem owns — the space they reside in. Matrix is laid out on the back of the couch, sprawled in that dignified way that felines do, in which she looks both perfectly relaxed as well as perfectly regal. Queen of her domain, she surveys her kingdom with two-toned eyes that catch the light and appear to glow, tail casually draped over the side to twitch-twitch periodically right over Sev's face because she's a cat. And that's what cats DO. Casually. As if she didn't know he was there (SHE TOTALLY DOES, THE BEAST!) until the younger bronzerider's hand absently and unconsciously reaches out and, with a careless gesture, swats at it. That gets a low, dangerous kitty-growl and sudden focused attention on the offender. There's an answering growl (a bit sleepy and not nearly as dangerous) and a cracked eye from Sev, a squinting look up in the dark to meet those fierce and focused eyes, and a huff. "You started it," is the mumbled, raspy reply; voice thick with sleep and hoarse from disuse. Another feline-growl, and that tail just twitches all the more. Because she can. "Don't make me shove you off the couch." Grump-grump. It's an empty threat, and there's likely some affection there (buried deep, deep down). Matrix decides she doesn't have to put up with such treatment and stands. After a long and languid, arch-backed stretch, she hops down to go prowl around in the dark, leaving Sev alone and much more awake now. Awake enough to notice there is a weyrmate sprawled across his lap and using the sofa arm as a pillow. Still a bit drugged up (but not uncoherent, thankfully), there's a lazy looping of arms around body as he attempts to snuggle up with said sleeping-weyrmate, in no hurry to get up just yet.

Even if there was no yelling, J'en can sense when there is stuff and things going on, even if he's unconscious. Admittedly, he refuses to admit it, because watching a grown man get into a territory battle with a cat large enough to make mince meet out of his handsome face, was not something he wanted to see. So, he plays comatose, when really he's struggling to make himself at least shake off the paralysis that comes with sleep, only managing once Matrix has stretched and left and he's being hauled up off the arm of the sofa do those dark lashes of his lift enough that the rich golden color of his irises can be seen. A soft grumbling sound sneaks its way out of him, a protest of his own against movement, but when it ends up being all snuggled up against his weyrmate? Yeah, he can handle that. His head coming to rest, nestled more or less between Sev's head and shoulder, Jae inhales slow and deep and then exhales again in a soft sigh. There was no rush to become fully awake quickly, his blinks just as unhurried as he lets his eyes focus on their own rather than trying to make them. His neurons stretching and yawning before beginning to fire with a fairly steady and rapidly increasing pace until the wingleader is yawning and turning his head upwards enough to place a kiss to the line of Sev's jaw, nuzzling up against it as he inhales his scent. It was a good scent and it did things, the sort of things sleep tended to start and if he hadn't been all snuggling up with S'van it might have gone away. It's ignored, regardless, even if he's unable to resist nipping there a bit playfully with those pretty pretty teeth of his. "Can ya walk?" he murmurs, his own voice rough and gravelly. Don't think he hadn't noticed it was hella cooler in that weyr, because he had. Who could miss being able to breathe?

S'van survived the encounter with face-intact, and so celebrates with weyrmate-snuggling. Against half-hearted and barely discernable protests, Jae is pulled in and wrapped in a comfortable embrace. Sev is still feeling the effects of the fellis; a bit disjointed and detached from himself. But he manages to order his limbs into cooperating enough for that much, at least. He's awake; aware of the passage of time and the reality of the world around him, but his eyes are closed and there's a serious lack of tension that is half drug-related. A lazy hand lifts as Jae breathes him in, and slow fingers drag idly through the hair at the back of his head. A gruff sort of hum in appreciation for the kiss, and grey eyes open against the dark. A glance down, that reveals very little of the Wingleader tucked against the side of his neck. He's perfectly content to just sit right there, motionless except for the hand that drifts lazily along inky black hair as if on its own accord, drifting along on the lingering fellis-induced haze, if it weren't for that playful nip of teeth. That sends nerves to firing, and he's suddenly very aware of himself and actively pulling out of that groggy, deliriousness. A turn of his head, and he returns some of that nuzzling with his own; nose in hair as he inhales deeply; lips pressed to scalp in a soft but lingering kiss. Can he walk? The question serves as the reminder as to why, exactly, he was drugged in the first place. A glance is given to his bandaged toe, eyebrows pulled down in speculation as he considers it. "Mm… Probably?" His tone of voice says he's game to try, even if he's not exactly in a hurry to do so.

Yes, fingers in his hair, was definitely nice. Hmm. J'en is most glad that there is face and hands intact, but like S'van, he was not leaping up to start the day anew, even if he was aware of exactly how much time had passed between all that activity and waking up to being repositioned. So, he'll lay there with fingers being caressed into the hair at the back of his neck, firm and familiar. His eyes, drifting close again for a few moments before it occurs to him that he could be doing other things. Such as taking advantage of his half-drugged weyrmate. Let there be kisses and nuzzles, wordless expressions of affection, until Jae gets it into his head that the application of teeth was a requirement here. Because it totally was, okay? Something about that chiseled jaw line demanded to be nibbled on, how he resisted so often was right now beyond his comprehension. It lessens though, when S'van moves and returns that affection, imaginary tension draining out of J'en completely in that moment. Soft kisses, trailing a line, upwards towards his lover's ear and breathily he exhales, "Got somethin' for ya in the other room." My, didn't that sound promising, doesn't it S'van? Especially when it's said like that in that tone of voice. A nip to that velvety earlobe and he leans back, golden eyes to grey in the murk if possible, before he drops a soft and fleeting kiss to Sev's lips and squiggles free almost reluctantly out of his delightfully lappy prison. Careful of course of the toe. Poor toe. A flash of guilt across his face after a pause to look at said toe, and the wingleader turns his back on the living space, finding the dimmer switch and turning it only so much as he needed to so that at least his love would not be banging anything else if he could help it. It does also illuminate the fact that all those crates were gone and the place much more maneuverable, making it possible for him to lead the way towards the bookcase room, where he waits. Patiently. Lashes lowering, and chin slowly raising upwards. Oh, you know the look. Probably doesn't help that he's still only wearing those illegal and low slung pants of his either.

Kisses and nuzzlings, wordless expressions of affection, and then nibbling along his jaw? S'van is definitely awake now, and his mind is not-so-slowly moving toward the sorts of thoughts that tend to get them into all manner of compromising positions. At least they were already at home because in the state he's in, it's doubtful that Sev would spare much brain power toward processing what are and are not acceptable places for his hands to be wandering in public. There is certainly sounds of enjoyment for the various ways in which he was being taken advantage of, deep hums of appreciation exhaled in turn. He'll just lay there and enjoy it, until there are exhaled promises in voices that make shivers race along his spine and cause his next few inhaled breaths to be particularly deep. That nip even gets a bit of a groan in response; a thrumming sound in the back of his throat. Yup. Definitely got his attention with that. Grey to gold, even through the hazy dark, as Sev focuses on his lover's face. A kiss to his lips, and then Jae is up and out of his lap before he can make his sluggish arms do anything about it. He shifts, as if waking up his extremities with the flexing of fingers, wrist and elbow. A roll of his shoulders. As if the rest of him was slow to wake up even if his mind is clearer. Feet to the floor as the lights come on; palms to couch and then a shove upward. Slower movements, if just to reassure himself that he isn't about to topple over or go dizzy. But no; steady and sober now, even if there's a little wince for the weight on the foot with the injured toe. After testing just how much weight he can bear on that foot there, he heads after Jae. His curiosity is definitely piqued, but that look there… that has the corner of his mouth curling up and brings a devilish glint to those grey eyes. And of course there is a drag of his gaze all over that body there, though this time he's a lot more careful about where he's stepping when he does so. But yeah; definitely lingering in all of those inappropriate places with not a hint of shame for it. "What did you do?" is asked as the distance is closed and, while he is certainly curious beyond reason, especially since it appears that the mystery of the myriad crates is about to be solved, he's rather reluctant to remove his gaze from the half-naked figure that he is most definitely going to try and touch once his hobbling gait brings him close enough to do so.

Suffice to say, J'en is using himself as a sort of lure, coaxing S'van up off the couch because he had a sneaking suspicion that without doing so there might be protests. Not that he didn't have personal issues with self control when it came to his tall, muscular, brown-headed weyrmate, he totally did. Hence all those looks the poor man got day in and out, practically throughout the awakened hours. Poor thing. But for now, he leans all sexy like (as if that was hard) against the doorjamb and giving him that look of all looks. Does the trick too, and if it weren't for the fact he was trying to be a fucking lure, he might have smirked straight out at the effectiveness of his luring. He keeps it up, remains there, a barricade against the darkened room beyond, until Sev was just about there and then he steps backwards once in order to feel around the wall for the switch. "So many things…" he says, voice still low and rough. Now his lips twitch upwards at the corner, fingers catching on that which he sought and waiting just until that hobbled gait brings S'van just within touching distance. That's when he flicks the thing upwards and steps into the room and away, letting those pretty grey eyes fall on the gorgeous (very sturdy) pool table now sitting in the center of the once empty space. Solid oak (is that a thing on Pern? It is now!), with a satin finish, the thick legs ornate and stunningly carved to remember feline claws grasping balls. The edging was decked out in a pewter, with matching accents recessed on the sides but extended outwards at the corners for all the pockets. Metallic looking mesh sacks extending down from them, where the balls could be retrieved. The felt table top? The color of blood of course, rich and luxurious. Oh, there was a cue rack and balls and stuff too, but that table. Oh DAMN. So, now Jae will stand off to the SIDE and smirk, because this was one gift that he did not have to second guess or worry that it might be liked or not.

And a very effective lure he is, too. Though admittedly, it would not take much to get Sev up and off the couch to chase him; protests aside. His pace is slow, more from an attempt at taking better care of where he is putting his feet (he learned a hard lesson with that broken toe) than actual pain from said toe. A laugh for the reply; dry amusement because he has an active imagination, certainly able to picture all sorts of ways in which his weyrmate could get into mischief. Quick enough for someone with a busted toe, he's at the door. One hand goes for the jam, more for something to do than for the necessity of support, the other to bare skin; settling just there over those low-slung pants so that he's got his thumb fitted in the natural dip of muscle that so enticingly draws the eye downward. However, in this moment, his eyes are not so much on illegal attire as it is the suddenly illuminated room and the object within it. To say that he is startled would be an understatement. Whatever S'van thought would be revealed, a pool table certainly was NOT it. At first there is surprise and confusion, as though he cannot get his brain to acknowledge and understand what it is he is seeing, in the place that he is seeing it. But that vanishes quickly, like a flash of lightening, and the confusion makes way for sheer joy. A wide and unrestrained smile splits his face, and his attention is sufficiently captured by the beauty of the table that he doesn't even seem to notice when Jae slips off to the side and out of his grasp. "You… it's… what…" because what the fuck are words even, when he looks fit to burst and the only reason he's not literally bouncing is because one, that would be weird, and two, he has a broken toe, yo! "Jae!" And for a brief moment, Sev seems caught between whether or not he is going to make for the table, or his weyrmate. Weyrmate wins, if just to be caught in a brief squeeze before Sev is all about that table. He limp-hops his way over to it, eyes and hands drawing across the smooth wood with absolute appreciation for the detail and craftsmanship. Like a kid at Christmas (nevermind Pern does not have Christmas!), he can't seem to stop grinning, fingers moving from one thing to another as a detail catches his attention. Yeah, definitely no doubt about how much he liked it. "It's amazing!" Delight. Followed quickly by surprise again. "How… where…" well. At least he got one coherent sentence in there.

Oh, that is one very sneaky hand. It's almost a thing of wonder, the way it seems to move as if it were a living creature of itself, magnetic and beautiful. Not the one that takes to the doorjamb, but rather the one that finds bare skin and makes J'en shiver automatically a second before the goosebumps rise to the surface in its wake. As if to add insult to injury, there were other reactions that had flagged since he'd gotten himself up and off the couch in order to present S'van with his present. Unable to help the soft catch of breath as his lover's thumb fits so perfectly in the divot that the bone structure of his hip provides. Distracting! Raking his teeth over the flesh of his bottom lip, Jae inhales quickly as his shoulders tighten and his resolve to just show the thing that was responsible for broken toes, drugs and sleeping the day away becomes almost secondary to throwing his weyrmate over it and having his wicked way with him. Such dirty, dirty thoughts flood into his brain, but thankfully his fingers flick on that light and he's able distract him instead. Rightfully, by revealing the prize. Letting out a soft breath, J'en leans back against the wall with his arms loosely folded over his chest and watches his weyrmate transform to a little boy on Pernmas morning (its a thing now, deal with it). Suffice to say, the reaction was exactly what he was hoping for. That unmitigated joy written into every cell of Sev's being the second that it clicks what it is that he was looking at. The man was still half under the influence after all. He snorts into a chuckle for the inability to form a coherent sentence, letting that being one of those devastator smiles to his face which might have completely ruined the moment, were it not for the fact that S'van was still trying to wrap his head around the master craftsmanship of his new pool table. "Sevran?" Brows lift, and he's then genuinely laughing and returning the quick embrace that comes before settling back in against the wall. There he remains, watching S'van marvel and awe and touch everything he can and he laughs again. So much inarticulation, it was nearly as beautiful as the man inarticulating. "I'm glad ya like it." Understatement, clearly. Tilting his head minutely, "Dun worry about 'ow and where…jus' enjoy yeah?"

Sneaky hands, that are now roaming all over smooth wood, luxurious felt and tasteful metal accents instead of soft skin and firm muscles. S'van can't get enough of it, really; alternating between fascination and appreciation, delighting at the details and clearly marveling at the talent displayed in the craftsmanship. It's the laughter that draws his gaze back to the leaning figure, that expression of glee still quite apparent as grey eyes settle on J'en. "I love it," he states needlessly. "It's amazing," he adds, clearly on a roll with coherency now, even if it is limited to simple statements of fact. Another brush of fingers against felt, a caress, and he's withdrawing from the table. Almost reluctantly, though it's only far enough for him to get a better look at the whole of it, grey eyes moving down along the ornate carving of the four legs. Doesn't hurt that he's moving back towards sexy wall-leaning weyrmates, either. And there's certainly no reluctance in the way he turns to reach for him when his half-hobbling steps close the distance once more. Hands slide to leather-clad hips, settling there naturally as he draws himself closer. "Okay… forget how and where. What about why?" Because he can't fathom it; why there is suddenly a pool table sitting in the hidden room behind the bookcase, even if he is thoroughly enjoying it. But regardless of whether an answer is forthcoming, there is a lean of his head and a brush of lips to lips in a physical expression of the verbal, "Thank you," that comes soon after.

Those hands could be roaming over other kinds of smooth surfaces and considering the reaction that the gift had gotten, J'en was hedging his bets that it might be later rather than sooner. A thought occurs, flickers really, a pang. There and gone. One that actually makes him muffle another laugh behind his hand before it has any chance of making him look and sound insane. It would have been far too out of place, far too loud, and at a time that he should merely be chuckling as he watches his weyrmate grope and feel up a pool table. For a single fleeting moment, he was jealous of a piece of furniture. A game. An inanimate object. Oh, he'd felt jealously before. Plenty of times. S'van was oblivious, but Jae'd caught more than a few women and men both who'd let their eyes roam where they had no business being. Longer than they should. And of course, that tart at the bar, the night that Tanit had caught them on the beach doing things that Risali would have chided them for. It takes him a moment, but he gets over the amusement of his past inner thought, letting out a soft breath and breathing in another before he eyes S'van amusedly, "Ya dun say…" he smirks, brows lifting. "Hmmhmm." Nodding, and trying so hard not to laugh anymore than the gentle bobble of his shoulders suggest. There he was again, stroking the table as if it were a lover. The pang doesn't return, but J'en can't keep himself from laughing just a little bit more noticeably. The sound fades off, naturally, as S'van backs up to get a wide shot with his eyes before turning towards him. Chin lifting, he leans off the wall and in against the body possessed of those hands that simply drain all of the stiffness out of his body. Except, you know, he obvious place where they definitely produce the opposite effect. Ahem. Back into the place that seemed made especially to fit his thumbs, they go. A smirk settles back on his lips, "Why the fuck not? We got the space for it, ya love it, and I love ya…makes sense to meh." J'en logic, it's the best. Why the fuck not. Seems legit. Lashes lower as S'van leans in to brush his lips against his, an amused sound issued forth for the verbal appreciation following the physical one. "Yer welcome."

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