Can't Admit You Want It

Writers: Devin, Halyonix
Date Posted: 25th November 2025

Characters: M'sar, S'yen
Description: S’yen manages to get the better of Mesarian in the baths.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 10, day 23 of Turn 12
Notes: PG-17 version of “Bending Over in the Bath”. Caution for swearing.

S'yen

The baths were empty at that hour and S'yen was glad for that. He reeked of ichor and redwort. He wanted to be clean, especially if he was going to that party later tonight. He pulled off his dirty clothes with a disgusted look at the stains. Great, no idea if _that_ was going to come out.

He tossed them in a pile and sank into the hot water with an appreciative moan. Thank Faranth for whatever technology piped hot water in. He would have requested a transfer months ago if not.

"Hey pretty boy," Mesarian said as he lounged on the other side of the bath.

S'yen immediately jumped. How had he missed _Mesarian_ of all people?! Had he been hiding underwater or something? "Flame off," S'yen muttered as he started scrubbing himself vigorously.

"Ooh, touchy. And here I was going to offer to scrub your back."

The bluerider rolled his eyes. "Like I'd let you do that," he said before he dunked his head underwater. "Surprised you aren't in Candidate class or something," he said snarkily when he resurfaced.

Mesarian shrugged. "Wanted a bath." His posture stayed casual but his gaze followed S'yen with interest.

S'yen was aware of Mesarian's eyes on him but he feigned disinterest. Let the bastard stew. "Oh, congratulations. You figured out how to bathe, I'm proud of you."

Hot anger flooded him and Mesarian surged to his feet. "Don't insult me." His hand itched for a knife. It also itched to grab S'yen and kiss him hard.

There. Getting an emotional rise out of Mesarian felt good. "Oh, don't act like you don't enjoy it," S'yen taunted. "A little insult as foreplay is totally your game."

"I'll have to find a way to shut you up." Mesarian stepped closer, mad at himself for how much he liked the taunting.

"Yeah?" S'yen answered with sarcastic nonchalance. He flicked water off his fingers disdainfully. "Let's see you try."

Mesarian grabbed his arm and pulled him close. "I'd make you get on your knees, but . . . hmm, maybe I will anyway. See how long you can hold your breath."

The bluerider swatted Mesarian's hand away. "Drowning isn't my kink. You want me on my knees? You ask nicely." He shoved at Mesarian's shoulder like he wanted to start a fight. "Or, you get down on yours and we see which one of us is gasping first."

"Make me." Something hot and needy twisted inside Mesarian.

Well that was going to be easy. S'yen's hand fell to his crotch as he traced a teasing line around the area. All to draw Mesarian's attention lower. "You know you want it," he purred. "Come on. Show me what that tongue can do."

Mesarian snorted, even as his eyes followed S'yen's fingers. "I'm not gonna do it just cause you ask nice. I'm not as easy as you."

"Being easy has nothing to do with it, sweetie," S'yen replied as his finger traced a line up his body to encircle a nipple. "You'll do it because you want me and you know I'll be good to you."

"I know you're good when you bend over for me." Mesarian liked to be on top because he wanted to be in control, but once in a while he wanted to be . . . taken. It had to be the right person, the right circumstances, and he couldn't just let himself ask for it, even if he wanted it desperately.

"Not this time," S'yen told him sharply. He moved away slowly, tantalizingly. Mesarian would either beg or S'yen would just leave. He was clean enough for his next engagement anyway. "Take it or leave it, pretty boy. You either get on your knees or you go jump in the lake."

"Wrestle me." Mesarian swallowed. He wasn't the half-starved waif he'd been when he first arrived at the Weyr, and S'yen wasn't a large man, but between them it was clear the bluerider had the advantage.

S'yen's expression told him that there was no way that was happening. He let out a disparaging laugh. "Really? You really just can't say yes and admit that you want it? It's gotta be some contest? Some conquest?" He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Your loss." He turned to leave.

"Coward," Mesarian spat. He lunged and grabbed S'yen.

"The fu--" S'yen started to snap. He threw off Mesarian's arm, pushed him back, and then, snarling, said, "Prick," as he closed the gap he made to pin Mesarian against the wall of the pool. He gave the Candidate a sharp bite where neck met shoulder as one hand fisted into Mesarian's hair and the other dropped to his crotch. "Can't just give in, can you?" S'yen growled in Mesarian's ear.

"No." Mesarian hated the small gasp he made at S'yen's touch, hated the way his body heated and arched toward the bluerider. He should fight. He should at least try.

~*~spicy angry sexytimes~*~

S'yen's hands relaxed their hard grip on Mesarian. He slipped into the bath ungracefully, draping his arms along the stony edge for support. "Fuck yeah," he murmured in a sated haze.

Mesarian sagged next to him, wincing slightly. Well, he was going to feel _that_ tomorrow. "Not bad." But the smile on his face said it was far better than that.

Incredulous laughter bubbled up from the bluerider. ""Not bad'?" he echoed. He playfully splashed water at Mesarian before his barriers started coming back up again. "You were begging, don't lie. You'd do it again."

Mesarian's gaze drifted to S'yen's lips for a moment. Why was he so against kissing? "Maybe." Definitely.

"Maybe nothing," S'yen said with a haughty huff. "You're going to be in trouble if you Impress, you know. No sex for months. Good luck with that."

"And yet you survived." Mesarian skimmed a hand along S'yen's arm.

It was starting to get too close to pillow talk. S'yen rolled his arm out of reach. "Yeah, well, Jenith was worth it," he said as he started to rise out of the bath. "You'll understand. If you Impress."

Shards S'yen was so prickly. Mesarian leaned back against the edge of the bath and looked up at him with a teasing smile. "You gonna wish me luck?"

S'yen's eyes were cold as his lips twisted into a wicked smile. He toweled himself dry. "No," he answered, "because it isn't a thing of luck. And you'll figure that out soon enough. See you, pretty boy."

"Unoriginal," Mesarian called after him as he closed his eyes.

Last updated on the November 28th 2025

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Can't Admit You Want It