I Miss You }{ Tag: Dana's Tariv

[ricci]

/But no'un's in the air,/ Garanth commented while Z'marin laid in his bed, angsting over how little sex he had. He had grown addicted to sex. And that was with minimal sexings in the first place. But he had had enough sex to know what he liked. And the best sex was with his favorite person in the Weyr. A rough once-wher-handler.

He had tried to satisfy himself to the thought of the roughness that Tariv exibited on the rare occasions that they made love. One time, and this was the best time, Tariv had gripped down on his arms so hard that his arms had been bruised and sore for days. Tariv had seemed to feel bad about that, but that had been amazing. And Z'marin had been daydreaming about all the other things they could enjoy during their lovemaking. Everyone else was too gentle, or too timid. He didn't want timidity. He also didn't always be the one on top, which was what happened with the few girls he had been with, and something piteously offered by the other boys his age with dragons.

It was strange. Dragons made sex okay. Since the first mating flight during Weyrlinghood, sex had been allowed, been alright, and nobody frowned upon anybody for doing it. Candidates of Zim's age, on the other hand, were considered far too slutty for their age and rank. But for Zim, he did have his mature dragon. So once every sevenday or so, Zim found himself locked in a room with one of his friends. They weren't lovers, not really. There were his favorites among the handful of people that Zim shared his body with. Most were around his age. Maren, the ex Weyrleader's daughter, was a good friend of his. She was probably his most frequent bedmate, though they both agreed that they were not Weyrmates, and never would be. For one, Maren knew of Tariv, and thought that Zim was crazy for sleeping around outside of Tariv.

Zim wasn't sure he would ever be exclusive to Tariv. He liked sex too much, and Tariv seemed far too reluctant to provide Zim with the level of sexings that he needed. Needed.

Garanth found it hard to understand. Of course, most things sexually confused the fucking shit out of Garanth. After all, he was not content to chase females as was the biological imperitive, but rather males. It would be nice if another male would turn out on the gay side, but so far there had been no luck with that. Sadness.

Anyways, the point of all these paragraphs was to say that he really really wanted to spend some good old fashioned quality time with Tariv. He just hoped Tariv would be willing. Ultimately, he gave up on trying to bring himself to completion. Masturbation. It wasn't working. And normally, it did. Being a 14 turn old, he masturbated all the Goddamn time, so it didn't make sense that today it wasn't working. But then, he had had no sex in the month since Tarisk had gone Between.

It was time.

Garanth dropped him off in the bowl, the night sky dark. He was wearing an outfit that he knew Tariv struggled to resist, one that tore away easily. One that he had replaced once, even. He tore a little around the collar to reveal his clavicle. Tariv couldn't resist his clavicle. Then, without knocking, he walked into Tariv's room.

He found Tariv sitting on his bed, doing nothing. The man hardly acknowledged his presence. In fact, Zim wasn't even sure if the acknowledgement had been real or imagined. But he said nothing as he walked over to the bed and kneeled at the wher-handler's feet, pressing his body against Tariv's leg.

One hand touched Tariv's face. The other traveled elsewhere.

"I miss you," he whispered.

Elsewhere, Garanth was busy being confused. Again.

[danaphantom]

Even if it had been a month... it had felt like years and like no time at all. It wasn't like he was paying attention to the sunrises. To the changes in the Weyr. To the small dragonets occasionally wandering around, exploring this new world they had been born into.

No, attention was not Tariv's strong point. But, as the brain is wont to do, the pains of the past began to fade. His lack of focus began to wander away from the shadows he kept himself in. On occasion, he would wander to the kitchens to breakfast with the other wherhandlers. Today he actually bothered to take a bath (though whether this was because of personal hygiene or because the grime from the past week was getting too itchy was questionable).

He ached for Tarisk. Nothing would ever stop that. But finally, with time, he began to ache for other things. For companionship aside from his shadow, which he wasn't sure was real in the first place. For food to fill his rumbling belly. And for...

Well, he didn't really realize the latter until suddenly he was beset by a teenaged boy. It was a bit too familiar; Tariv's reaction to Z'marin's presence was a faint memory of a mewling candidate and a proddy wher. She was not here anymore. But Zim was. And Tariv...

Tariv didn't answer Zim. At least, not verbally. That tear in the Rider's shirt... he had done that, hadn't he? Maybe... maybe it needed more. The Wherless man grabbed the torn collar, bodily hauling Z'marin up onto his lap. The Bluerider could struggle in the off chance he suddenly decided he didn't want aggressive buttsex.

Otherwise, the ex-handler would take all his aggression, all his fears, his worries, his hopes, his dreams... take the past, and find release.

[ricci]

An off chance that was, and one that the ball did not land on today. No, Z'marin knew exactly what he wanted, and by the end of their rough lovemaking, neither man was completely without aches in new places. At some point, in between ass poundings, Zim had taken a break from the other things he was doing to bite Tariv's hip hard enough to make it bleed. Maybe a bit to aggressive? Didn't matter. Zim had bruises in all the right places, and he felt especially well-sated.

Lithe and small, he stretched out on the floor, where they had ultimately ended up by the end of all their rather noisy (at least on ZIm's part) sexing. He hissed momentarily as one muscle refused to relax. It was like a good work-out. The type that required a sparring partner. He felt refreshed. He snuggled against Tariv's sweaty body and smiled into his chest.

"Feel better?" Zim asked, kissing the dip where Tariv's sternum was located. His hands were curled in front of him, but soon he moved them so that one hand rested on Tariv's non-bleeding (well, neither bled anymore, scabbed up as it was) hip.

Z'marin certainly felt better. Sore, but much better. Garanth still didn't quite understand how that was cuddling. But whatever.

[danaphantom]

Tariv's mind was a complete blank. The difference was, this was a good kind of blank. No thoughts traveled through his head because there was nothing to think about. Why ponder when the important things were tangible, already in his arms? Yes, he ached, but this soreness was not in his soul. It was in muscles long unused, in his hip lovingly torn open, in his groin, wanting more but content with all that he had already gotten.

"Mmm," Tariv replied. Topically, it seemed rather non-committal, as if he didn't want to admit his feelings. It almost gave a hint that, no, he did not, and it was not good enough. But Zim would likely know, after the years they had known each other, that this had been a good grunt. At the very least, the tone and timbre would be different enough from his speech just hours ago to note that there was, indeed, a positive reaction. He may still be just as quiet and introverted as usual, but that did not mean this Wherhandler was still trying to push the world away.

Despite the sweat that slicked both of their bodies and the heat that remained from their exertion, Tariv held the smaller man close, one hand reaching up so he could stroke along Zim's jawbone with his thumb. He was content to leave his mind blank for the time being, as it was much more favorable to the alternative.

Things were good. Or, at the very least, more positive than they had been. If he allowed himself to think, he would realize how much better this was.

[ricci]

((This is me inserting a time-skip. There's only so much we can do with afterglow. Which is mostly "...Mmmm~" "Sex is a good thing..." blahblahblah.))

After a while of laying together on the floor, Zim's rump eventually began to feel, once again, like a rump. The Bluerider extricated himself from his lover's cooling grip, and sat up slowly, stretching. Somehow, his body felt as relaxed as if he had just slept the perfect amount of time. It was nice how good sex could do stuff like that for one's body. Of course, he had been awfully sleepy at first, but now energy was coursing through his veins. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but he wanted to do something. He smiled and leaned to kiss Tariv's shoulder.

"C'mon, Tar', let's get up," he said. "Wanna go for a walk?"

That was something, that could be interesting. Given all the trouble in Tariv's life, given all the trouble in the Weyr itself, a walk might be a nice, relaxing thing. As far back as he recalled (and it felt like forever), Zim and Tariv had never gone for a walk just for the sake of walking. They always had a specific place in mind, and they always reached it quickly.

He stood and stretched again, his body no longer quite as moist, but he still found a towel and just patted off his face. He paused.

"This isn't the butt side of your towel, is it?" Z'marin asked suddenly, a little suspciously. He shrugged it off and tossed the towel aside, and began to search for his underwear. Whether or not Tariv accepted the idea of a walk, Zim was going to get dressed. If he wanted the youth's company, it was probably in the once-Handler's best interest to do the same.