We Didn't Even Win? (PG-17)
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Sia, Iluva
Date Posted: 29th June 2025
Characters: O'rosin, R'fayne
Description: They both lose Indith's flight
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 5, day 7 of Turn 12
Rating: PG-17
The air in the flight room was still thick with the last, ragged threads of dragonlust. It clung to the edges of O'rosin's mind, even as Aeoluth veered away from the Flight to dive into the depths of the ocean. He needed to cool off. They both needed to cool off.
O'rosin didn't know which dragon had won, nor which rider was taking V'tian now. He could see R'fayne, though, looking as overheated and pent up as he did.
O'rosin caught R'fayne's eye. That was all it took. No nod, no words. Just a flicker of understanding. He moved quickly, grabbing R'fayne by the front of his shirt and kissed him hard enough to bruise.
"C'mon, let's go."
That had R’fayne moving so fast the world shattered into fragments - O’rosin’s mouth, hot and insistent, words that were just sound, yet their meaning was already pounding electricity down each and every nerve.
One moment - his shirt constricting tight. The next - gone, nonexistent. Gone like any need to resist, to hold on, to refrain. Lust raced through him with each aching breath and he was pressing the brownrider back, against a wall, a door, his body covering O’rosin’s like a shadow.
R’fayne knew this: pressing in close, leaning into that desperate urge. That was where he needed to be. He couldn't take his eyes off him to check which side of the door they landed on. Then he couldn’t care. _This_ was the only thing he understood right now. This - his turn to claim O’rosin’s mouth and his rough hands desperate to break the barriers of too much clothes. It was agonizing, and the only thing that made any sense at all.
O'rosin groaned against R'fayne's mouth, a low, desperate sound torn from somewhere deep. His hands fumbled and then found purpose, jerking R'fayne's belt free. The drag of clothing between them was unbearable, too slow, too much. Distantly, he knew that they'd found an empty flightroom and slammed the door behind them, though it was hard to think of anything but R'fayne's body on him. Without Aeoluth's frustration thrumming in his veins, he would have been overwhelmed by the bluerider's eager hands that pulled at his clothing and fought to touch bare skin.
Still, he nearly bullied R'fayne backwards until his legs hit the cot. O'rosin pushed him down, leaned over, claimed his mouth again and hissed, "You with me?"
Though some part of him registered the cot beneath him, all R’fayne really felt was the heady proximity between them, O’rosin’s breath breaking hot and ragged over him, every exhale burning like dragonfire on sensitized skin. R’fayne opened to the kiss with a groan, gripping the back of O’rosin’s neck, possessive and unrelenting. His other hand was now at O’rosin’s waist, long fingers dragging over the scars like he was trying to open them anew, then fumbling, blind and hungry, at the fastenings of his pants.
“Yeah,” R’fayne finally growled, tongue flicking over the slick hollow of his throat, “Where else would I be?”
O'rosin's pulse kicked hard against his ribs. He bit back a sound at the drag of R'fayne's fingers against his hipbones. "Good." He rasped. His hands were already moving, greedy and unrelenting. He shoved R'fayne's trousers down over his hips, dragging them down until they were unceremoniously discarded.
“_Hurry_up_,” R'fayne growled again, frustration in his throat and filling the room as he helped kick his pants down, away. The drag of fabric further set his skin on fire, fanning his impatience. Finally - Faranth, finally.
----- brown chicken brown cow --------
O'rosin leaned his forehead to R’fayne’s, still catching breath, the sweat-slick press of their bodies hot and tangled and perfect.
O’rosin cursed, voice low and cracked, barely a thread of sound. He kissed R'fayne again, slow this time - not gentle, not after that - but _sated_. Possessive in a different way. “You,” he began, then stopped, shaking his head like the words didn’t exist yet. "We didn't even _win_." He finally managed, incredulous.
The room spun, and Rfayne was on fire. He panted hoarsely, body pulsing with the deep, throbbing ache. Muscles trembled, twitching with the effects of release, raw and involuntary reminders of just how hard he’d unraveled. The adrenaline ebbed, slow and thick, and the cot beneath them came back - the sweat, oil and wetness on their skin.
On some level he was still breaking, aftershocks still tearing through him like his body was refusing to let go of what had happened.
He barely registered O'rosin moving beside him, except for the moan that slipped out - half pleasure, half protest, or maybe both. O’rosin said something, but it was lost in the haze. R’fayne couldn’t answer. Nothing about him felt finite anymore. He had no edges, or perhaps was nothing but sharp, aching, jagged edges.
Still, R’fayne managed to press his soaking wet forehead against O’rosin’s. His hand - feeling like someone else’s - made the impossibly long journey up to O’rosin’s face, pushing slick sandy hair out of his grey eyes. His fingers settled at the back of his neck, trembling, holding him close with what little strength he had left.
He nodded - the only thing that felt possible, that felt real. R’fayne tilted his head enough to kiss O’rosin back, and slower again, fully this time, the two of them trying to land.
Then he finally draped an arm over his eyes to slow the spinning, his breathing still wild and uneven. R’fayne’s chest shook in silent satisfaction, unable to laugh. “You,” he said, voice raw with awe. “_That_.”
O'rosin chuckled. "I surprised myself, too." He nudged R'fayne's wrist gently as he shifted closer, lips ghosting his jaw, his neck, pulling him close.
Last updated on the July 7th 2025