26.Aug.13, 02:13 AM
...two legs, under his own. One arm in his posssession, the other...
He flexed the fingers slightly, the pads stretching out across O'wain's chest. He took a deep, but quiet breath. He couldn't deny: he felt good. Everything. Just laying here. As far as he could tell, O'wain was asleep. Z'jan preferred it that way.
It gave him to consider how he was going to disappear.
But an undeniable sigh, and a ripple-effect of movement down O'wain's neck, shoulders, chest, and to Z'jan's fingers, corrected him. It seemed the brownrider was actually very much awake. That, or he'd just exhibited the most violent yawn in Pern's history. No use playing dead wherry. Z'jan tried to touch Ghalath's mind, but the green seemed to be asleep. That was unusual for her. She didn't like to sleep alone, much less in the company of a dragon she hardly knew. Good for her, he thought, she needs to get over it.
But, oh-no, he'd guess wrong twice: Ghalath wasn't asleep either. At least, not asleep enough to ignore the chance to make a jab at Z'jan.
[ghalath] my issues? Mr. thanks-for-the-fuck-gotta-run?[/ghalath]
This is totally different
[ghalath] and each time it's the same[/ghalath]
Z'jan frowned, his fingers tightening unconsciously against O'wain's chest. What did Ghalath know about anything? He didn't need to run. He didn't always run... even if maybe he did. What did it matter? It was just sex. It didn't have to be a thing. He was allowed to just leave. It's not like it bothered him.
It didn't bother him.
He unconsciously waited for Ghalath's rebuttal; it never came. This time, she really was asleep. She'd heard all this before... so Z'jan fumbled alone with his thoughts. He needed something to say to O'wain, something convincing. Something partially true would be best, since he was a terrible liar. Something that--
O'wain's hand tracing up the back of his leg made him catch his breath. His thoughts scattered like birds. He also became aware, for the first time, that another part of O'wain was also very much awake. This man was a freak of nature... and ten points to gryffindor nature.
Z'jan's ear was pressed close to O'wain's chest, so when the brownrider's spoke, he felt the words as much as heard them. The vibrations, inexplicably, sent giddy chills running down his spine. Post sex adrenaline.
"Our... dinner?" oh, right, the wherry... gawd I'm hungry... and, hey, where are my pants... actually, where are we...?
"Oh. That dinner." He ended lamely. He shifted against O'wain, trying to figure out the best way to get to his feet and get the fuck out of here without making a scene. Or the least amount of 'scene' a sex-haired greenrider jogging naked out of the woods at sundown could make.
He flexed the fingers slightly, the pads stretching out across O'wain's chest. He took a deep, but quiet breath. He couldn't deny: he felt good. Everything. Just laying here. As far as he could tell, O'wain was asleep. Z'jan preferred it that way.
It gave him to consider how he was going to disappear.
But an undeniable sigh, and a ripple-effect of movement down O'wain's neck, shoulders, chest, and to Z'jan's fingers, corrected him. It seemed the brownrider was actually very much awake. That, or he'd just exhibited the most violent yawn in Pern's history. No use playing dead wherry. Z'jan tried to touch Ghalath's mind, but the green seemed to be asleep. That was unusual for her. She didn't like to sleep alone, much less in the company of a dragon she hardly knew. Good for her, he thought, she needs to get over it.
But, oh-no, he'd guess wrong twice: Ghalath wasn't asleep either. At least, not asleep enough to ignore the chance to make a jab at Z'jan.
[ghalath] my issues? Mr. thanks-for-the-fuck-gotta-run?[/ghalath]
This is totally different
[ghalath] and each time it's the same[/ghalath]
Z'jan frowned, his fingers tightening unconsciously against O'wain's chest. What did Ghalath know about anything? He didn't need to run. He didn't always run... even if maybe he did. What did it matter? It was just sex. It didn't have to be a thing. He was allowed to just leave. It's not like it bothered him.
It didn't bother him.
He unconsciously waited for Ghalath's rebuttal; it never came. This time, she really was asleep. She'd heard all this before... so Z'jan fumbled alone with his thoughts. He needed something to say to O'wain, something convincing. Something partially true would be best, since he was a terrible liar. Something that--
O'wain's hand tracing up the back of his leg made him catch his breath. His thoughts scattered like birds. He also became aware, for the first time, that another part of O'wain was also very much awake. This man was a freak of nature... and ten points to gryffindor nature.
Z'jan's ear was pressed close to O'wain's chest, so when the brownrider's spoke, he felt the words as much as heard them. The vibrations, inexplicably, sent giddy chills running down his spine. Post sex adrenaline.
"Our... dinner?" oh, right, the wherry... gawd I'm hungry... and, hey, where are my pants... actually, where are we...?
"Oh. That dinner." He ended lamely. He shifted against O'wain, trying to figure out the best way to get to his feet and get the fuck out of here without making a scene. Or the least amount of 'scene' a sex-haired greenrider jogging naked out of the woods at sundown could make.