Bacon and Eggs = Apology? [Rappu]

[princesal]

ooc : morning after Dementiath was caught by Schrodith

Fresh rolls, eggs, some stripes of wild game meat fried up to a nice crisp, chopped tubers cooked up with spices, sweet fruit baked into dough, and a compote on top of it. Fresh juice, and nearly a pot of klah to go along with it. Basically it was one giant breakfast, and T'ris had made it for one person in particular. D'mitr.

When he had walked into the kitchen, obviously the staff that knew Schrodith had chased had kept their eyes on the sky, and watched as the goff pink and the rhyming black curled around each other. Of course that meant that they all assumed that T'ris had finally entered the final stages of adulthood, and he'd be greeted with claps on the back, and a whistle. They even let him make the giant breakfast they assumed that him and his friend would be sharing. Okay, so his face had been red the second he stepped in, and he'd sputtered too much to clear up that he had stayed in his own room instead of doing the traditional thing.

Years of working at the kitchen had prepared him for transporting food, and quick enough to keep it hot. So he made his way around the winding caves, a cover on the tray, and he kept his hands steady. Unable to make anyone's eyes as he made his way, there was a lazy poke of interest from Schrodith, but the black dragon was more then content to stay wrapped around Dementiath, and stay snoozing for as long as dragonly possible. He hoped he wouldn't have to deny his cuddling to Dementiath once she woke, but he was fully prepared to do so if she did not appreciate the mushy hearted tendancies he had picked up from T'ris over the turns.

T'ris himself was wondering on the exact protocol of this. He pretty much counted D'mitr among one of the people he could rely on and never be disappointed, but did he disappoint him last night? Should he apologize for not comming? Was the pink rider able to bed with someone out of choice rather than lusting necessity? What if that person was going to be in there? Well, T'ris did make quite a lot of food, so if there was someone, they would be able to share together. It was a win-win situation for everyone if that happened. But what if D'mitr was mad at him for not showing up? That was one thought that T'ris was trying to avoid, because... well... Schrodith had caught. It was one thing to show up at a flight, and not be with someone because your dragon didn't catch... it was probably another thing all together to not even show up, and for that person to know there wasn't an alternate.

Yup, he really hoped he hadn't messed up.

At the entrance to D'mitr's personal weyr, T'ris tried his best to alert his friend to his presence. A quick peak under the cover showed that everything had transported well, and nothing had tipped over and ruined the meal. "H-hello? D'-D'mitr?"

[Rappu]

D'mitr yawned. His bond with Dementiath thrummed with happiness, and despite not being able to find a substitute, he'd had a nice bath and afterwards, he'd slept well, dreaming of starry skies and shadowy dragons. He cracked his eyes open as a tiny voice floated into his ears. T'ris?
"Come in!" His voice rang slightly sleepy and hoarse. D'mitr rubbed his eyes and scooted backwards to sit on the bed, then pulled the light blanket over his striped pyjamas. Poor guy, T'ris sounded so nervous.

"Good morning!" D'mitr smiled his wide smile at the man. "Did you sleep well? Flights make some people lose sleep," he said and stretched. Delicious smell wafted over. "Aww shucks, did you make me breakfast? I don't think I've ever had a man bring me breakfast in bed!" He laughed and winked, beckoning T'ris over. T'ris probably needed to hear he wasn't mad about last night. What kind of a person would be mad about another person not wanting to sleep over, especially during flightlust? Dementiath's first flight had had D'mitr himself a nervous wreck.

"Hey. It's all right." D'mitr's tone was softer now. He patted T'ris's shoulder. "Flights can get pretty weird. Wasn't that Schrodith's first one?" He took a plate and started on the meat and tubers. It all melted in his mouth. "Wow, this is delicious. It should be illegal for food to be this good." He meant it. Getting breakfast in bed made it all the better, too.
"Don't you want some?"

D'mitr chuckled. "You don't have to worry about Dementiath, either. She might think we're a couple for a while, but that's just her being her. I'm stoked she and Schrodith like each other and that this went so smoothly. We've had some dramatic flights with her previously." He smiled and sipped the klah.

[princesal]

Walking into the room, as soon as he saw D'mitr's smile, a wave of relief went over T'ris body. If the man was mad at him, he wouldn't be smiling right? The smile he gave back was broad, and relieved. Nodding at the question, "Schro... was happy." Sleep came incredibly easy because of it, the black dragon had been ecstatic, and the happiness had been infectious, and T'ris had fallen asleep somewhat comfortable. The lust had burned in his belly still, but he had been able to sleep.

Nodding, he set the tray down on D'mitr's bed, and took the cover off, presenting the food that he had made him. "I... I hope you like it." His cheeks were glowing a bit. As soon as D'mitr took a bite and complimented, the bit of flush turned into a full one as he ducked his head. "My... my parents taught me."

Nodding again, he sat on the bed, and took a little bit of the sweet bread with the fruit compote he had made, and took a nibble. This was admittedly indulgent, he had used hefty amounts of butter, and had spent more time on a small bit of food then he usually did on full meals. "Second... he... chased Jarith, lost. First... first catch."

Looking down at his lap, he stretched his fingers out, and nibbled his lip for a moment, before looking over at D'mitr. "I'm sorry. I... I should have... I'm sorry I di-didn't." Frowning he picked up one of the tumblers he had brought for juice, and poured a glass, setting it to the side for D'mitr, and then poured another one, setting it down as well.

"Schrodith r-really likes... really likes Dementiath. He... he made poetry for her." The feeling of contentment was still pouring off of Schrodith, and there was no telling what he'd do if during Dementiath's next flight, another suitor dared to chase what he adored. She was his first, and as it was right now, he wanted her to be his only.

Sitting there, he looked at D'mitr, and smiled again. "You have cute pajamas." His voice was soft, and he broke off a piece of crispy porcine, and put it into his mouth, the salt and the flavored fat made his mouth water.

[Rappu]

"That's all right," D'mitr said. "I was confused as all when Dementiath flew for the couple first times. But you know what they say, what happens during a flight stays in the flight," he said and sipped the klah. Wow, that was some great klah. Thicker than what D'mitr drank, and sweeter.
"Ma and pa are both riders, but pa's brown chased a lot. After the accident, ma's Olliith chose others, of course. What I'm saying here is, you don't have to apologise anything. Especially not after bringing me treats like these," he continued and shoveled a forkful of egg into his mouth. It was just right, not too gooey nor too hard.
"You know, with eggs like these I'm suprised you don't have a line of guys at your door." It was a sincere compliment, said in the sincerest, shiniest way a rider could.
D'mitr took the juice. Poor, poor T'ris. The guy was too cute, like a little lamb. Had he ever dated? Probably not.

"I didn't completely catch Schrodith's poetry, but from what I could infer Dementiath loved it. She's been wild about Schrodith for a while, and you didn't hear this from me." D'mitr winked. The warm happiness that oozed from Dementiath's mind to D'mitr's was nice, and it wasn't likely Dementiath would just change suitors just like that. There might be an issue if Schrodith tried to chase others without telling her, though. Dementiath was a possessive dragon. "You know, I think Dementiath would like it if you and Schrodith joined the club. Have you seen the posters?" The first meeting had been a wild success, but D'mitr wasn't completely sure when they could hold the next one. Hopefully soon. Without thinking, D'mitr let his hand brush T'ris's own on the tray as they both reached for tasty tidbits.

T'ris's compliment made D'mitr blush. "Gee, T'ris, thanks." He watched the other man pop a bit of meat into his mouth. No, that was too much. "You know, you can borrow these if you like them. Anytime." The last word was laden with a myriad of implications, and D'mitr allowed his bare toes flirt with T'ris's foot resting on his bed.

Maybe all of the happiness thrumming in his bond with Dementiath wasn't just because of Schrodith catching the pink.

[princesal]

Blushing a bit at the compliment about his cooking, he only shook his head. "My m-mother's b-b-better. Thank you." He really was quiet, and mostly spent the time when D'mitr was talking to make sure the food was alright, and that if D'mitr looked like he wanted something, to have it ready by the time he reached for it. When the pinkriders hand brushed against his own, there was a fleeting tingly sensation, as his own fingers retreated. It felt a little bit like a stirring from last night.

"T-thank you. I... I don't... I usually don't wear anything... w-when I sleep." He hadn't picked up on all the other things that anything could mean, and when he heard Schrodith chuckling about it, the black dragon didn't divulge any information, or an answer. Instead he stretched out and curled himself around Dementiath possessively. With one great yawn, he settled back down, dozing happily, though keeping a bit of focus on T'ris and D'mitr, out of pure pattern following scientific reasons, of course.

Looking down at D'mitr's wiggling foot, T'ris stared for a moment, eyes flicking up, before he smiled again. Hands reaching down, he wrapped the long calloused fingers around D'mitr's foot. At the same time he shifted a little, pulling his other leg onto the bed before he lifted the pinkrider's foot, and started the gentle yet firm motions of a foot massage.

As he massaged D'mitr's foot, "I have... Sh-Schro c-could join. I... I'm not... not very... goff," he paused his fingers for a moment as he spoke, before resuming. Looking down, he couldn't stop the thought that D'mitr had a very nice foot, that it was attached to a very nice ankle, and he was sure that pajamas hid a very nice leg. All of D'mitr seemed very nice to him, and he felt happy and comfortable with the other man. He hadn't felt so at ease with someone since before T'von became a father. It was understandable why his brother didn't have a lot of free time, but that didn't mean that T'ris didn't miss him terribly.

Flicking his hair out of his eyes, it was long overdue for a haircut, even if sometimes he felt like it hid him sometimes. There were a lot of people that wore their hair longer. Back at the task at hand, literally, he pressed his thumbs softly into the arch of D'mitr's foot, not wanting to hurt him at all, just... well... part of it was apology, as was the food. But there was a bigger part that just wanted to be near him, just wanted him to be happy and comfortable. "I... is this alright?" His voice was barely above a whisper. He felt starved for touch, and every now and then his hand moved up to D'mitr's ankle, and even an inch further then that. Scandalous, right?

[Rappu]

D’mitr sighed, contented, as T’ris took his foot and started rubbing the sole. The motions were relaxing on his calloused, running-hardened soles. T’ris’s hands were clever and found spots D’mitr hadn’t even realized needed softening. It was comforting and warm, and without thinking, D'mitr leaned against the pillows and closed his eyes. His bond with Dementiath thrummed with happiness and just a little bit of excitement.

He was quiet for a long time, just enjoying the feeling of flitters in the pit if his stomach and the smooth massage on his toes. He'd had a perfect breakfast in bed and now he was getting a massage from the person who had made and brought the breakfast. The sweet, shy blackrider... Who had been away after a heartbreak. Suddenly, D'mitr had to hug the man and tell him it would be all right, that he and Dementiath would protect them. A slight blush spread over his nose as he opened his eyes. A tiny little voice reminded him that T'ris slept in the nude.

The tray and his plate moved to the side, D'mitr slid closer to T'ris. He took the man's hand in his own. "Breakfast in bed and now a massage? You're a wonder, you razz my berries big time," he said and chuckled nervously.
Really? 'Razz my berries'? You should tell him you want to rip your heart out for him to eat.

D'mitr paid no attention to his dragon's words. Instead, he leaned closer and gazed sentimentally into T'ris's eyes.

[princesal]

"I- Is that a good thing?"
Yes, good thing mine. Everything is fine.

Then D'mitr was so close, and so warm, and with a soft breath in, T'ris thought he smelled so good. It happened slowly and quickly at the same time, he shifted his hand a little bit so he could hold onto D'mitr's, and with rose on his cheeks, leaned forward that extra distance. He'd feel horrible if this was unwanted, but it felt right, and he felt Schrodith's mental encouragement (of course the black was on his semi-honey moon, and was encouraging all sorts of things, but he approved of D'mitr a lot. D'mitr was very good).

Slowly and quickly, the distance closed, and after a pause, and a quick light sweep of his tongue, he closed the distance between them. D'mitr's lips were firm, and soft, and pretty much everything he thought they were going to be. T'ris' eyes slid shut as he shifted again, trying to get closer, his free hand reaching up to run over D'mitr's face before combing through his hair. A feeling of spiral ling happiness surged through the link he and Schrodith shared, and the Black nuzzled Dementiath.

Rib cages split open, a beautiful sound, the noise of beating hearts all around.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, T'ris felt himself smiling, even though his face felt so hot, as if he was consumed by sudden fever. He shouldn't have kept himself to his room last night. Not when he could have kissed D'mitr. Supportive, helpful, friendly D'mitr. He flew side by side with this man, and trusted him daily to cover his back from thread, and T'ris did the same. Why couldn't he have trusted him last night?

It was that thought, that had him pulling away, lips leaving soft kisses in the wake of his slight retreating. "I... I.... I'm sorry. I'm s-sorry D'mitr." He should have asked, he shouldn't have just done that like that. His eyes looked up, nervousness reflected in them, eyebrows knit in the same worry. "C-can... Can I... can I kiss you again?"

It was alright if D'mitr said no, if he said that 'what happened in flight stays in flight', because now wasn't flight anymore. Did it mean something different? All he knew was that he had an overwhelming want to wrap his arms around the man, and hug him tight for as long as he was allowed. Maybe massage his other foot, and his back and shoulders. D'mitr deserved to be pampered, he worked really hard. "Th... the kiss w-w-w-wasn't part of an apo-apology." He felt like it was important to say that.

Schrodith was nearly humming in approval.