Out of the Air, Out of the Closet [S'fin]

[Hiko]

T'lyron was exhausted, despite waking up in a rather comfortable bed. He yawned, stretching out in the – wait. The bed? When had –
Panic sobered him quickly, erasing any last vestiges of flightlust. He didn't need to look over to know who was in the bed with him; Doriath's utter satisfaction was enough to tell him that the bronze had won Rusath's flight.

He rubbed at his face, groaning, and flopped his head back down onto the soft pillows. Try to make friends, and Doriath will try to ruin it, he thought. Of course he caught the green of the one acquaintance he'd finally felt as if he clicked with. Shells.

Ignoring the throb of a headache that could only have come from sleeping in, T'lyron closed his eyes and contemplated the situation. It had been some time since he'd been with anyone, and it wasn't as if Doriath didn't know that – and what better way to find release than in a flight, where no one asked questions? The dragon decides, the rider complies, and such occurrences were natural. Commonplace.

A flashing memory of the flight stirred him, and he ignored that, too.
“Wouldn't have thought Rusath was much for bronzes,” he offered, laying an arm over his face.

Zen

[Zen]

S'fin :: Green Rusath

The warm haze of satisfaction that always followed a flight followed him into wakefulness. He reached for Rusath, to check on her, make sure she hadn't been hurt in the flight, and she touched his mind reassuringly, stirring in the slightest from where she was catching some wan winter sun. The green didn't experience much violence in her flights, in general, but he always checked. Especially after this one. It had been highly unusual for her to evade until the last moment. S'fin was used to her choosing, rather than forcing a catch. Those races had really brought out another side of her.

With a contented sigh, he stretched a bit, rolled over, and remembered who had won. T'lyron was the first to speak and S'fin bit back a groan. A bronze? He could count the number of times Rusath had been caught by a bronze on one hand, and with over a decade of rising, that was something. The bronzerider covered his face with an arm and S'fin chewed his lip, rather expecting him to excuse himself any moment now, “Erm... she doesn't... normally.... Definitely has a preference for blues....”

Shells, Rusy, why didn't you pick a blue?

With a soft huff, Rusath relented, Doriath won fair and square. It was a good flight. You are satisfied.

S'fin rubbed his hand over his face, But why Doriath of all dragons? I was just starting to make friends with his rider!

You can still be friends with him. How does a flight affect that?

He sighed, because of course the green didn't remember the other times she'd been caught by a bronze. He hadn't even really known either of the men, but it had certainly made it hard to try to get to know them after. Avoidance had followed. With the amount of women on greens, bronzeriders just weren't used to ending up in bed with a man. Clearly it made them uncomfortable, even if the Weyr would never question what resulted from a flight.

With a humorless laugh, he tapped his fingers on his pillow in front of his face, “I, ah... hope this doesn't put a stop to our friendship.” He kept his gaze on his drumming fingers, so he wouldn't look at T'lyron and start thinking about how he was actually rather attractive. He tried not to think about bronzeriders like that, it just led to disappointment. All he'd wanted from the man was friendship, and that hadn't changed. Outside of his brother, he didn't really make a habit of spending a lot of time with bronzeriders, for various reasons, but he'd enjoyed T'lyron's company at the feast, and it seemed to him the man could use a few more friends. Maybe it would make him feel more at home. But now....

He chewed his lip again, chancing a glance over his fingers and toward T'lyron's face, trying to judge his state of mind, but it was a bit difficult as his arm was still covering his features.

Hiko

[Hiko]

The throbbing at T'lyron's temples only seemed to grow worse as he laid in the bed. When S'fin responded, he laid there a moment longer, contemplating. If she normally chose blues, then why did the dratted green have to pick Doriath?
Why wouldn't she want me? I'm the best bronze in the Weyr.
You're the best bronze in the world, but this complicates matters with her rider.
Why? The bronze was perplexed. You enjoyed yourself. He enjoyed himself. Rusath and I-
You know why, T'lyron sighed.
Just because you hide your feelings, doesn't mean you should. Do I need to fly every man's green before you understand that? T'lyron didn't have to wonder if the threat was more than a bluff; Doriath rarely said things he didn't intend to act on.

He shifted in the bed, sitting up in order to look over at S'fin.
“No, no,” he assured the green rider. “This doesn't change anything. I can't fault you for what Doriath does. This just... complicated things?” Shells, that sounded terrible. He laughed softly at himself and shook his head.
“The bronze brat does what he wants, when it comes to females. I, ah. I'd like to keep this friendship.” He tucked the blankets about his lap and flopped his hands onto his legs. “It's not like I've made too many others.”

Zen

[Zen]

S'fin

His fingers stopped their drumming as T'lyron sat up and looked over at him. S'fin's brow rose in the slightest as the bronzerider didn't seem quite as uncomfortable as he'd expected him to be. But it was still there. Something. He frowned. Complicated? He closed his eyes with a sigh. Maybe he was just as uncomfortable, he was just better at being polite about it.

Though when he confirmed that he apparently wasn't going to just run away from the friendship building between them over this, he looked back over at him curiously, hopeful that he meant it and wasn't just saying that to be nice now only to avoid him later. He didn't miss him tucking the blankets around himself either. But S'fin gave him the benefit of the doubt. He did seem genuine.

“Well, I'm glad to hear that,” and he was, there was real relief in his tone. He rolled onto his back and lifted one hand to cover his eyes, “Shall I look away while you find your clothes? Maybe you'd be more comfortable?” He peeked over at him through fingers parting over one eye, barely suppressing a grin that managed to pull up the corners of his lips, “And if being seen with me doesn't threaten your manhood, perhaps we can find something to eat?”

Another suppressed grin, “Since I take it you don't want to cuddle.” He hoped he wasn't pushing it.

Hiko

[Hiko]

The uneasy mood between them seemed to lift, albeit slowly, as both began to understand that the outcome of Rusath's flight had not been as disruptive to companionship as initially expected. T'lyron felt himself relax, the tension in his muscles lessening as he leaned his head back against the headboard. He could tell his answer hadn't fully mollified the green rider, but he had to appease his own anxieties as well.

T'lyron caught himself mid-flinch at S'fin's words, despite the other man's amusement.
“No, that's not –” T'lyron shook his head again. “I don't really care who sees me. It's just flesh.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. Threaten his manhood? He chuckled. “If lunch “threatened my manhood”, I'd've long starved to death. But...”
Say it.
What if it gets out?
Then deal with him then. He is your friend, is he not?
It's not like we've known each other for terribly long.
Then open up. Get to know him. Let him know you. I can't be your only confidant. I have a green to nuzzle.

Doriath was the worst of influences, he thought not for the first time. Even ignoring that gloating comment, the bronze was mentally puffed with pride for having caught Rusath. Every green was his, and every gold, too. T'lyron stifled the urge to roll his eyes; did Rusath even know what sort of monster she'd created in letting that brat of a bronze catch her?

“I actually do like to cuddle,” he admitted softly. Anxiety welled once more. To further explain, be fully open – was that something he even knew how to do, after so many Turns of repression? He cleared his throat. “It's not something I do a lot of, though.”

Zen

[Zen]

S'fin

Removing his hand from his eyes, S'fin looked over as T'lyron didn't immediately take the chance to escape his bed and get dressed without worry about offending him. It was nice he wasn't bashful, S'fin supposed, because he felt rather the same way. It was only flesh, a body in its natural state, and it was more sad than anything when others seemed ashamed by their own bodies. But he seemed to hesitate, and S'fin wasn't quite sure anymore just where this was going.

Silence drew out, but T'lyron had the look of talking to his dragon, so S'fin wondered if he wasn't mistaking hesitation for being interrupted. When the bronzerider did finally speak again, it was quietly, and it was clear there was more behind his words that he wasn't quite coming out and saying.

Brows knitting together thoughtfully, S'fin propped his head up on one hand to study his companion for a moment, trying to work out just what he was, and wasn't, saying. There were plenty of reasons he would say something like that. Maybe he'd been hurt before, he was guarded. Maybe he just had a hard time finding someone, maybe he needed more of a connection and those connections had been slow in coming to him. Maybe....

Maybe the reason T'lyron hadn't fled his bed was because part of him didn't want to? He quickly put a stop to that line of thought. His own voice had softened when he spoke again, “T'lyron... I know we don't, exactly, know each other very well yet, but... whatever's on your mind... if you need someone to talk to... I'm happy to listen.” An uncertain smile pulled at his lips, “And, I mean, if you like to cuddle I'm open to that too.” Should he have said that? Shells. He couldn't help trying to lighten the mood, even though he really didn't want T'lyron to think he wasn't taking him seriously. He just seemed so... well... like he needed to cuddle.

Hiko

[Hiko]

Open up.
Ugh.
Open up. Open up. Open up. Ope-
Enough, all right?

T'lyron rubbed at his face, annoyed at the bronze and at himself. Sharing is caring my foot, he thought stubbornly, but quickly realized his lifemate was hardly about to shut up over the matter if he continued to bottle. The chorus of Open up, bounced in the back of his mind by a dragon that should have been more keen to enjoy the company of the freshly-caught green than barrage his rider with sentiment.

And then, S'fin offered to be an open ear. Shells, but he was getting it from all sides, now! He realized his breathing had quickened, and he forced himself to take slow, deep breaths, rather than let pent up anxieties drive him toward deflection and avoidance; he had already told the other man he wouldn't run. He could hardly vacate the weyr in a panic, now.

Wondering if that initial onslaught of concern should have been heeded and the weyr fled, T'lyron cleared his throat. Crossing his legs under the blankets, he moved forward, leaning his arms on his thighs and looking somehow smaller for the effort.
“You couldn't say anything,” he replied, he said, considering what to do next. Could he trust S'fin? They hadn't known each other long, but he couldn't deny the sense of camaraderie he felt with the man. "If I said, “It complicated,” would that be a good start?”

Zen

[Zen]

S'fin

The change in T'lyron's breathing didn't go unnoticed, and S'fin pushed himself up to a sitting position, catching himself as he reached out, physical contact his first instinct when someone was upset. But, that... probably wasn't a good idea. He took his hand back, running it through his hair instead as he wondered just what it was the bronzerider was struggling with. Maybe it was just the simple act of opening up to someone to begin with. In his experience, a lot of men struggled with that.

He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, all the better to keep his hands to himself, blankets kept carefully in place, resting his chin on his knees until T'lyron finally found his voice again. “If you're not comfortable sharing, I don't want you to feel pressured, T'lyron... but I promise, anything you say will stay between us.”

And there went that word again. Complicated. His arms tightened a bit around his knees in response to the urge to once again offer some sort of physical contact. He responded carefully, “Sometimes... things we've made complicated in our heads don't seem as complicated from a different point of view...?” He chewed his lip, hoping that didn't come off wrong. He wasn't trying to invalidate how T'lyron felt about... whatever it was. “I... I don't mean it isn't, just that... maybe I could help put it in a better perspective?” He wasn't sure that was quite what he wanted to say either. “I'd like to help, however I can,” that, at least, was exactly what he meant, "I just can't watch someone struggle with something without at least trying."

Hiko

[Hiko]

Do I need to tell Rusath?
No. I can do this. But I can't focus with your pestering. Why are you pushing this, now of all times?
The bronze sniffed. Because this is getting ridiculous. I didn't choose you for your timidity, T'lyron. I chose you for your strength. I've chosen not to chase other greens for you – Tanith is a gorgeous dragon, and I knew you would be uncomfortable. And yet, you're fidgety and nervous with what you want, too. I'm tired of you hiding yourself.

T'lyron wiped at his mouth, realizing his lips were dry. He could tell S'fin was doing everything in his power not to touch him; was that after-effects of the flight, or actual concern? The bronze rider felt grateful for the restraint, either way. Doriath's words were less than reassuring, but he knew the issue had been building. Rusath's rise had merely brought it to a head.

“Where you grew up,” he ventured, “What were bronze riders supposed to be like?” Benden had been a stable environment in which to grow up, but the message had always been clear, at least to him. Greens and blues might chose a man with a certain preference, but browns and bronzes? Coming to Mavros, he'd never felt as if he'd abandoned that underlying current of mental thought, even after Doriath's Impression.

[Zen]

S'fin

He waited, patient, for T'lyron to decide to just what he wanted to say. He was concerned more than anything, about just what it was that T'lyron was struggling with, and how long had he been struggling with it? Had he ever talked to anyone about it before? Judging by how difficult it seemed to be for him to share, S'fin would guess no.

The question he was asked wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting. What were bronzeriders supposed to be like? He shifted a bit at uncomfortable memories of unnecessarily cruel rejection. Not all bronzeriders were like that. Az wasn't like that. He refocused on T'lyron. It seemed T'lyron wasn't like that either. He pushed those feelings away and instead thought about the perception he'd had growing up at Southern, before it had been distorted by negative experience.

“Well... strong and brave...,” he laughed softly, “Perfect, comes to mind.” It seemed to S'fin there was an awful lot of pressure on bronzeriders to measure up to some impossible ideal. Was that maybe part of T'lyron's problem? Why else would he be asking him such a question? He thought on it a bit more, and stared at his hands as he clasped them over his knees, “The embodiment of masculinity.” Yeah, that was a good way to put it. The best way he could think of. He wanted to tell T'lyron he didn't have to be those things, that it was okay to be flawed, to deviate from those expectations, but he still wasn't quite sure just what the heart of the problem was and he didn't want to assume anything. He was there to listen, to try to understand, and hopefully, maybe, figure out a way to help.

Hiko

[Hiko]

S'fin had answered much in the way T'lyron would have guessed; it was the same in every Weyr, to some degree or another. Bronze riders were the epitome of what it meant to be a man. They were chivalrous, courageous, great leaders, enviable lovers, and the perfect match to their Weyrwoman. It was easy to internalize such expectations, and easier to feel adrift in self-doubt when personal reality did not see eye to eye with lofty goals.

“And what of male green riders?” T'lyron continued, “What were they supposed to be like?” In Benden, green riders were generally either female or flamboyantly homosexual; and if they weren't, they were expected to be. Men on greens were barely men, prone to the whimsy and desires of their bonded dragons, easily perturbed, riders that had to be herded by their blue weyrmates. One could hardly compare them to bronze riders.

And T'lyron had compared himself every day, living in the creche, and later, the barracks. Sons of gold riders did not end up on greens, and Faranth forbid they have similar preferences. He gave credit where it was due, of course; neither parent pushed him toward the idea of bronze or brown, and neither had ever been terribly concerned about orientations. But the Weyr as a whole? That was a different matter.

Zen

[Zen]

S'fin

“Greenriders?” S'fin was surprised by the sudden shift in subject, and rapidly trying to figure out the reason for it. Why was T'lyron at all concerned about the perception of male greenriders? Was he trying to make some sort of point, how they were at opposite sides of the spectrum and... what? They were too different to make this friendship work? Was he reconsidering? He closed his eyes and did his best to calm the sudden panicked thoughts in his head. No, no he'd been genuine about wanting to stay friends, that this flight wouldn't ruin it. He was just letting old wounds confuse him. T'lyron was different.

Stop making this about you, he's clearly working toward something, he chided himself, and tried to come back around to T'lyron's question without getting defensive for no reason. “Ah... I.... I dunno.... Honestly no one ever seemed to think much about greenriders at all at Southern, when it came to expectations of anything. Except that....” The only real expectation of male greenriders was that they were most certainly homosexual. It wasn't always true, but it was what everyone tended to assume. And as a male greenrider, he was quite familiar with the fact that the rest of Pern tended to assume it too.

In his case it was true, but whether it was or not, it was a major reason male greenriders were not as well respected outside of the Weyr as they ought to be as dragonriders. Holdbred just... fixated on it. It was why he wasn't offering to be of any help to Az politically. What ranking holder would want anything to do with him? It didn't hurt anymore, like it used to. It wasn't fair, but it was what it was, and Rusath was worth whatever scorn any random stranger had to throw his way. Another soft laugh escaped him, “Except that we're all homosexual.”

It started to fall into place then, though S'fin denied those thoughts almost as soon as they began. Bronzeriders weren't.... Was that the problem? Bronzeriders weren't supposed to like men, they weren't supposed to be homosexual. But not everyone fell into the stereotype laid out for those bonded to whatever color dragon. Just as not all male greenriders were homosexual, surely... maybe...? There were homosexual bronzeriders too? There weren't as many bronzeriders as greenriders, even male greenriders, who were generally outnumbered by their female peers. But it was possible, wasn't it? That a few of them just might prefer men?

He chewed his lip again, not daring to ask. How stupid he would feel if he was wrong. And how offended might T'lyron get? No, he needed to let T'lyron come around to whatever he was getting at on his own. If that was the problem, S'fin rather thought it would be better for him to say it himself anyway. And he could say it when and if he was ready to do so.

Hiko

[Hiko]

T'lyron didn't have to look over to S'fin to feel the green rider's discomfort. It was a hard thing, to look at what society expected of a man. He let the other man chew on the question, and found himself altogether unsurprised by the answer he was given. It had been much of the same upbringing he'd grown in, the same sort of attitude.

In the recesses of his mind, T'lyron felt Doriath's derision over the entire idea.
I did not choose you for your choice in bedmates. I chose you because you were the best candidate on the Sands, and I deserved no less. You deserve no less than to be happy. Keep going.

“So,” he continued, his unease settling in to stay as a knot in his stomach, “did you ever see lads vie for bronze, when their preferences were known?” He recalled the heavy bullying that had seemed to thrive within candidacy, recalled his own deaf ears and blind eyes to the worst of it. To be open about one's desires, and then have the gall to want something other than green or blue – it made a boy a target. Family was one thing, but children could be monsters to each other.

He swallowed, unable to know how to better explain his anxiety. “It's a hard habit to shake, privacy.”

Zen

[Zen]

S'fin

S'fin took a moment to respond to the next question aimed at him. Even though it seemed the answer was obvious enough at this point, part of him was still denying the possibility. And that wasn't helping, was it? If T'lyron was having a hard time reconciling who he was with what was expected of him as a bronzerider, his own continued denial was counterproductive. So maybe he would have to take the risk and stop letting the past prevent him from being any help at all.

“T'lyron... it's all right. You're safe with me,” he murmured softly, “You are a bronzerider, and whatever else you are... Doriath found you worthy, and his opinion is the only one that matters. No one can take that from you.” But he did understand why he chose to hide it. He thought of Rau, how badly that boy had wanted a bronze, and back at Southern... it had gotten him into plenty of fights, which of course dragged Az into them as well. All because he was open about who he was, and who he was and what he wanted did not match up with what everyone else thought he deserved.

And now.... Bronzeriders had to be ready to enter the political arena at any moment. It could make things unnecessarily difficult for T'lyron if his preferences were known, especially if he ever became Weyrleader. The Weyr as a whole may not care, but the Holds? “It can't be easy... constantly hiding who you are. And if you want to keep your secret, that's fine, but... you do know it's okay, don't you? I can't imagine the amount of pressure you must feel as a bronzerider, to meet all those impossible standards Pern places on you, but your bronze chose you, whether you meet those standards or not. You're perfect to your dragon, T'lyron, so between with everyone else.”

Hiko

[Hiko]

I like him, Doriath laughed within T'lyron's mind. Between with everyone else!

S'fin's words had been kind, caring, and dialogue that T'lyron had told himself, Turn after Turn. But words were easy. Negating the panic of keeping up appearances was so ingrained into his daily life, the bronze rider didn't know where to begin to unwind that everyday tension. He ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed.

“And what happens if, by some unlucky chance, Doriath manages to catch Zalmaranth the next time she rises? What do I do then? Keep a lover on the side, tell Karredy to keep her own? How do I even approach the Holds without inciting derision on the Weyr as a whole?” He scratched his palm. “Doriath may find me perfect, but he's the living embodiment of bias.”

T'lyron shifted in the bed, moving from his cross-legged ball. He reached out as if to take S'fin's hand, then hesitated and dropped his own back into his lap, along with his gaze. “What do I do if it's not “okay”?”

Zen