Chapter 17 - Acceptance
Autumn, 36th Turn of the Present Pass
As expected, Aurieth was given clearance to fly ten days later, six sevendays after her injury. She returned to her weyr, and D'min was released from the cramped room he'd occupied for the last month.
B'lee marked the occasion with a purloined flask of wine (from Tillek, unfortunately, but he'd sweetened it with redberry juice) and surprised D'min by taking him to bed.
"Are you sure?" asked D'min, uncharacteristically hesitant. "Berchar said I'm not to exert myself."
B'lee grinned. "I asked K'lon how best to do it -"
"What?" D'min sputtered.
"Well, it was either him or S'been, and I couldn't find S'been."
"But -"
"And then I asked Berchar if doing it that way would hurt you, and he said no, as long as I was careful."
"You asked Berchar?"
"Well, I had to be sure." He took D'min in his arms and kissed him gently. "I asked them both not to mention it to anyone. But I want to do this right, and I don't want to hurt you or damage you."
"You'd never hurt me."
"I might, if I didn't know what I was doing. That's why I asked K'lon."
D'min almost blushed. "I can't believe you asked K'lon about sex."
B'lee shrugged, but he was a little red himself, and he knew it. "He took you through Aurieth's first time. I figured he would know what you like and what you don't."
D'min nodded. "He does."
"So he said if you lie on your left side and I'm behind you, it shouldn't do any harm, and Berchar agreed. So that's what I want to do. If you do, that is. If you're not ready, I can wait."
"Wait? You've got to be joking!" So saying, D'min grabbed B'lee with his good hand and pulled him in for a searing kiss. "There. I'm ready. Now fuck me hard, because I think I'll die if you don't."
B'lee didn't laugh. He held D'min close and kissed him until they were both breathless, then dragged him over to the cot. D'min was still going shirtless, so all B'lee had to do was untie the lacings on D'min's trousers and his lover was naked before him. He quickly stripped off his own clothing and kissed D'min again. "I love you," he growled. "I'm going to claim you."
"Yes," breathed D'min, and put both hands on B'lee's arse.
B'lee smiled and moved closer, until their erect cocks were squeezed tightly between them.
"Mmm, yes," said D'min, his hands kneading B'lee's buttocks. "At least now you don't shy away when I get grabby."
"I like you grabby."
D'min gave a crafty smile. "Grabbing you or grabbing anyone?"
B'lee felt a flare of jealousy. "Me," he said, firmly. "From now on your hands stay well away from other riders. And craftsmen. And anyone else who isn't me."
D'min raised an eyebrow. "A bit possessive, aren't you?"
"You'd better believe it." He pulled D'min in for another kiss. "You're mine. I don't care who you had in the past, from now on you're mine, and only mine."
D'min shivered and smiled. "I'm yours ... and only yours."
B'lee pushed him down onto the bed, and made sure that he was comfortable on his left side. "Where's the salve?"
"On the shelf, there. Make sure you get the right pot," cautioned D'min. "This is one time we definitely don't want the numbweed ointment!"
B'lee giggled, but made sure that he sniffed the pot before dipping his finger inside. "It's not numbweed, I assure you."
"Good. You remember what to do?"
B'lee placed his fingers between D'min's legs. "In here, and roll it around so everything's coated." He matched action to words, and D'min moaned appreciatively.
"That's right. Oh, that feels good."
B'lee added a second finger and listened to D'min's moans getting louder and deeper. He loved how D'min's voice became so deep and dark in passion - it never failed to make B'lee harder and more possessive than ever. A third finger had D'min squirming and pleading, but, mindful of K'lon's advice, he waited until he could fit all four fingers in comfortably before withdrawing and covering his cock in more salve.
He placed himself at the entrance to D'min's body and asked, "Are you ready?"
D'min pushed backwards. "I've been ready for the last five minutes. Get inside me, now!"
B'lee pushed, and gasped at the intensity of the sensation - D'min was even tighter than he remembered. He bit his lip, the pain helping to bring himself back under control and warding off his imminent orgasm. He couldn't disappoint his lover now, not when they'd waited so long for this. He reached around with his right hand and took hold of D'min's cock, eliciting a deep groan and a push forward, then back.
"Sshh," countered B'lee. "You're supposed to stay relaxed. I'm supposed to be doing all the work, remember?"
"So work it, then, and ... ah, yes," he exhaled, as B'lee started to thrust steadily. "That's good."
It was better than good, thought B'lee, as he tried to maintain a steady rhythm, even if D'min couldn't keep still. He was definitely going to have to do something about that - teach him to keep time or something, or maybe tie him up. K'lon had mentioned that D'min liked to be restrained sometimes, and though B'lee had run away from the thought at the time, he could see its advantages now. He liked being able to elicit those delicious noises, to know that he could bring D'min to screaming incoherence with his touch.
"Oh, B'lee," groaned D'min. "So close."
B'lee speeded up both his thrusts and his strokes, and heard D'min's cries getting higher and higher as he approached his climax. B'lee was so close himself that he wondered which one of them would reach it first. Then he both heard D'min's sustained cry and felt the muscles around him clench and re-clench, and then he was shooting into his lover's body, and D'min was crying out again, and everything seemed to go grey for a moment, and all his strength disappeared. He let himself ease down onto the sheets, still holding onto D'min, still buried deep within him.
"Are you all right?" he asked, after a few moments' silence.
D'min made a vague sound in his throat that B'lee took to be agreement. It changed to one of protest as B'lee started to ease himself out.
"I'm not going far, love," he reassured D'min. "I'm just pulling out so you're not too sore tomorrow."
D'min chuckled. "I don't think I'd mind, actually."
"I would. I said I wouldn't hurt you."
"That is entirely a different kind of hurt." D'min twisted around slightly until he was on his back, looking up at B'lee. "Sometimes it's rather nice to have a few aches the next day. It reminds you how good it was."
"Is that so?"
"Mmm. So I'm not going to complain if I occasionally have difficulty sitting down."
"I'll have to remember that. But I'll try not to do it so hard on nights before Threadfall."
"Now that's what I call considerate," smiled D'min. "I remember once with D'von -"
"No," B'lee interrupted. "I don't want to hear about the times you had with past lovers. That's over and done with. Though," he added, conscientiously, "you can tell me if there was anything that you particularly liked, of course. I don't want you to think that you can't make suggestions."
D'min laughed outright at that. "I'm the one with all the experience, remember? I think I can safely promise that I'll be making suggestions."
B'lee giggled. "They'd better be good ones, then."
"They will be," D'min smiled, pulling B'lee down for a kiss.
* * *
They'd swapped places at some stage during the night, and now B'lee lay on his left side in front of D'min, wrapped in his lover's strong arms. It was warm and comforting, and B'lee didn't want to move. He could feel D'min's fingers interlaced with his own, and found that he was rubbing his thumb slowly up and down D'min's hand.
"Mmm," D'min rumbled in his throat. "You do much more of that and I won't be sleeping for a while."
"Maybe I don’t want you to sleep." He brought D'min's hand up to his mouth and kissed the fingers.
"Is that so?"
B'lee felt D'min lift his head. He looked up and was just able to meet his lover's gaze.
"So," murmured D'min, "what did you have in mind if you don't want me to sleep?"
B'lee started to shift around a little so that he was more on his back, with D'min above him. "Well, I thought that you might try kissing me again."
"You like the kissing."
"I love the kissing."
D'min bent his head and touched B'lee's lips. It was a gentle touch, but full of promise, and B'lee opened his mouth slightly, hoping that D'min would take the hint. He did, and they kissed for several minutes, until B'lee felt himself stirring with desire.
"I want you again," he whispered.
"Haven't you had enough tonight?"
"I don't think I'll ever have enough of you," murmured B'lee. "I've wanted you for so long."
"You could have had me two Turns ago," D'min pointed out.
B'lee shook his head. "No, I wasn't ready for you, then."
D'min thought about that, then nuzzled into B'lee's shoulder. "I don't think I was ready for you either."
"So it's probably just as well that we waited, then."
"Mmm. But we don't have to wait any more." He reached above them for the salve, and B'lee heard his breath catch as the wound twinged. "I'll definitely have to get a larger pot of this stuff."
"I'm sure Berchar will be happy to give it to you, as long as you can prove you're not over-exerting yourself."
"On second thoughts, you can get more salve. I'm not going near Berchar any more than I can possibly help it."
"Me? Why me?"
"Because you're the one who's getting the benefit from it. I'm perfectly capable of wanking now."
"You wouldn't," B'lee said, quite confidently. "You'd never prefer a wank to a ... well, to me. I remember you complaining bitterly the first month I knew you - about how you were stuck in Boll with no one but your right hand."
"Mmm. I remember that, too. I was hoping you'd volunteer to make up for the terrible deprivation, but you didn't."
"Sorry."
"It's all right. I didn't really expect you to. I'd figured out by then that you were het. Still, you didn't run away, either. That was good, too."
"And here we are, two and a half Turns later."
"Here we are, indeed. Lovers, no less."
"Mmm. Lovers." B'lee liked the sound of that.
"Now get busy with that salve."
"Yes, love."
* * *
There was a sudden and unexpected cold snap towards the end of the tenth month, and for the first time B'lee regretted that their weyrs were so far up in the rim, since they weren't as well-heated as the lower caverns. Even though D'min's wound had almost closed over, and he was able to wear a light shirt, he had found that the neckline ran across the wound and chafed the new and tender skin, so he preferred to stay shirtless. If the shirt was loose enough, he wore the neckline under the right shoulder, which gave him an odd raffish look. To keep himself warm, he took to wrapping a blanket around himself (it was the blanket that B'lee had knitted for S'gan a Turn ago, and B'lee blessed the forethought that had led him to ask if he could take it back) and huddled in the deepest part of his weyr, out of the draughts.
"Do you want to move back to the guest weyr for a little while, until you can wear wherhide again?" asked B'lee. "It'll be a lot warmer than up here."
D'min shook his head. "I'm not an invalid. I don't need to be down there with the sick and injured."
"Would you like me to bring up some hot klah, then?"
D'min nodded, so B'lee kissed him on the forehead and asked Margroth if he'd mind dropping him down into the bowl. Luckily it wasn't too late in the evening, and the klah cauldron still had plenty of the hot steaming drink, so he filled and stoppered the flask and turned to go.
"How's D'min doing today?" asked S'peren behind him.
"Not so bad, Wingleader. It's a little chilly up there, though, so I'm just getting him a hot drink."
"There are a couple of guest rooms free near the infirmary, I understand ..."
B'lee shook his head, smiling. "No, thank you. I just suggested that and nearly got flamed. He's a bit stubborn."
"He is. But I'm concerned that he may catch a cold if he can't wear adequate clothing. And I can't allow him to do anything that might delay his recovery, even if that means he has to sacrifice a little of his pride."
B'lee shook his head, wondering how he could defend his lover without insulting his wingleader - and without actually revealing that D'min was his lover, if possible. "I don't think it's that bad. His weyr has a nice little alcove at the back that doesn't get much of a draught, and he's got my blanket around him. Once I can get him into bed he'll be warm enough."
S'peren raised an eyebrow, and B'lee hurriedly added, "With the sleeping furs over him, I mean."
"But of course," replied S'peren, the crinkle of his eyes betraying his amusement. "Though I wouldn't discount the benefit of a warm body next to his. Speaking from experience, there's nothing quite like it for encouraging well-being." He smiled and moved on, and B'lee groaned to himself, wondering just how many people knew - or suspected - that he and D'min were now more than just friends.
And I asked K'lon and Berchar not to talk, he grumbled to himself. I should have known better.
Still, by the time Margroth had deposited him on the ledge of Aurieth's weyr, he could see the funny side of the situation, and as he poured out a cup of klah for D'min he announced, "The wingleader's given me orders to keep you warm in bed."
D'min looked astounded, then laughed delightedly. "You're having me on! He doesn't even know, does he?"
"I think he suspects." B'lee sighed. "I think a lot of people suspect."
"Does that worry you?"
"A bit. More because of the ribbing I'm going to get from M'ken than anything else." He shrugged. "They'll have to know sometime, I guess, I'd just prefer it's later on, when you're back in the wing and can defend me from the onslaught of randy green riders wanting to grab my arse."
D'min sat up straight and glared at him. "Anyone puts a hand on your arse and I'll cut it off!"
B'lee blinked. He hadn't quite expected such a strong response from his lover.
D'min seemed to realise what he'd said. "Sorry. I just meant that you're mine now, and just because I've finally converted you to the homo side of life, that doesn't mean that they're going to get the opportunity to find out for themselves."
B'lee smiled fondly. "I'm not sure that they would anyway. I'm still not sure that I like men in general. Just you."
"Good. Let's keep it that way, shall we?"
"As long as you do the same," said B'lee, rather more pointedly that he would have liked. "You're the one that usually has them queuing up for you."
D'min hugged him. "Not any more. I've got the one I want. I don't need anyone else."
"Good. Now drink your klah before it gets cold." He sat down beside D'min and sipped at his drink - it was hot and spicy and he could feel the warmth spreading through him. It was going to be another cold night, and he was glad that he would be snuggled up next to D'min. He remembered a few of the winter nights from the year before, when he'd been shivering alone in his bed, wishing that he could have a fire up there. Although he couldn't say that the Weyr was colder than his old High Reaches home, it was certainly draughtier, and icy tendrils of wind kept sneaking through the sleeping furs. More than once he'd actually put on his wherhide jacket and trousers just to foil the wind.
Now, however, he looked forward to going to bed, no matter what the weather did. D'min was warm next to him, and somehow the draughts weren't as bad this Turn, or maybe he just slept so soundly that he didn't notice them. Either way, he was thankful that he had a bedmate, and he was going to make very sure that D'min didn't slip away from him in the way he had from so many of his previous lovers. He and D'min were more than just bedmates, after all; they were weyrmates, and that thought was as good as a blanket itself for keeping him warm.
* * *
Naturally, D'min hadn't been left entirely to his own devices when he'd moved back to the rim. Berchar saw him every second or third day, and the wingleader and wingsecond called on him at least once a sevenday. His mother overcame her dislike of riding a-dragonback enough to visit him twice, and young Dokkerin scampered up the stairs at least two or three times a sevenday. D'min dreaded the healer's visits, painful as they often were, tolerated his mother's fussing, and put up with his younger half-brother's awe and curiosity as he gazed at the wound.
"Does it still hurt?" asked the youngster one afternoon, gazing at the bright pink scar with the central scab that was visible above the neck of D'min's loose shirt.
"Not so much now."
"Salby says you're never going to be able to ride again."
"Salby's wrong. I'll be back in the wing by Turn's End."
B'lee privately thought that was being overly optimistic, but he didn't want to contradict his lover openly and risk another argument, so he kept his mouth shut and continued knitting.
Dokkerin nodded. "That's good. Dragonmen must fly ..."
"...when Thread is in the sky. Yes, I know. And I will. So no more listening to Salby, understand?"
"Yes, D'min."
"How are your lessons going?"
Dokkerin shrugged. "All right. Curmir's more fun than Willan was. But I like B'lee best of all. When are you going to teach us again, B'lee?" he asked, turning around.
"When Thread stops falling. I don't have the time to teach and fight, you know."
Dokkerin scuffed the ground with his feet. "I know. But your teaching's better. More fun. And you sing better songs, not just the boring old Duty Ballads."
"Those 'boring old Duty Ballads' are very important. They tell you what you need to know about living on Pern."
"I know. But I like the story songs better. And the dancing songs."
D'min laughed. "I'll tell you a secret," he whispered, beckoning his brother closer, "so do I. Much more fun."
Dokkerin giggled. He left soon afterwards, with the promise of another visit in a couple of days, and B'lee sighed. At least all he had to worry about with Dokkerin's visits were that they made D'min tired and sometimes irritable when he passed on adverse comments like Salby's.
The riders, now, they were another matter. Several of them had made a habit of calling in every few days, and more than once there was an impromptu rest-day gathering of the more gregarious green and blue riders in D'min's weyr.
B'lee bore these invasions with patience, since he knew they were good for D'min, but he chafed at the way that many of the green and blue riders flirted with his lover. He knew it was partly his own fault that they didn't know the situation - he still hadn't told anyone besides K'lon and Berchar, and really wasn't looking forward to the teasing that would follow any announcement that he'd switched sides - but that didn't make it any easier to deal with. They all assumed that D'min was available and that B'lee was still the caring but steadfastly het rider they'd known for years.
The day following Dokkerin's visit was, as it happened, another rest-day. After taking the dragons down to the lake for scrubbing and oiling (assisted by Dokkerin and some of his friends), B'lee and D'min had returned to the rim and were just settling down to some serious nuzzling and fondling when the sound of boisterous steps coming up the stairs had alerted them to visitors. B'lee scrambled up off the bed and was busy tidying away some of D'min's clothing by the time the riders drew back the curtain.
B'lee almost groaned out loud when he saw who they were - M'ken, G'lin and T'sil, three of the most flirtatious riders in the Weyr. Both M'ken and G'lin, he knew, had been D'min's lovers in the past turn or so. He wasn't sure about T'sil, but the blue rider was certainly not averse to giving D'min a hug and a kiss, and D'min, curse him, wasn't exactly pushing him away.
He tried to stop the feelings of jealousy. He didn't have to worry, he told himself. D'min was still spending every night with him, and the only times they were apart were when everyone was fighting Thread, so he had no reason to think that D'min was playing him false. And, to give them their due, he had no doubt that all three of them would cease their flirting if they knew that B'lee and D'min were weyrmates. All he had to do was tell them.
Telling them, however, was the problem. Now that he'd got used to the idea of loving a man - now that he was used to spending all of his nights and most of his days with D'min - the prospect of being known as his weyrmate didn't really trouble him. What did alarm him was the prospect of the announcement itself, and how much teasing and taunting he'd have to bear at the news that he, like so many before him, had been converted to the homo side of life. If he could only get through that, the rest of it was nothing.
T'sil and G'lin had thrown themselves on the bed, one on each side of D'min, and were busy telling him the latest gossip. Ch'may, a green rider in 8 Wing, had been flirting heavily with a couple of visiting riders from Ista, when his weyrmate, V'don, had objected. Ch'may had protested and continued to flirt, whereupon V'don had simply picked him up and carried him off, over his shoulder. Those who lived in the same corridor bore witness to the fact that they had heard what sounded like V'don administering chastisement with the assistance of a riding strap.
"Why on earth does he stay with him if V'don treats him like that?" asked B'lee, astonished. He had thought that such brutality was frowned upon in the Weyr. "And how did his dragon permit it?"
To his surprise, however, the three green riders merely fell about in giggles, and it was left to T'sil to explain to B'lee that Ch'may had thoroughly enjoyed it and was known to provoke the reaction deliberately from time to time. "He loves being spanked. It's just a game they play.
G'lin added, "He's a terrible flirt, but he loves V'don."
B'lee shook his head in bewilderment. Every time he thought he come to grips with Weyr life, there was something new to catch him out. And what on earth would he do if D'min started playing games like that? He really didn't think he could hit D'min, even in play. He looked anxiously at his lover, seeking reassurance that he'd never be asked put in such a horrible position.
"It's all right, B'lee," said D'min, reading his mind. "I'll never do that to you."
B'lee nodded and smiled, relieved that D'min had known exactly what was worrying him. Then he tensed as he realised what D'min had said - and what it implied.
M'ken was the first to pick it up - it would be him, thought B'lee, morosely - and gave a guffaw. "Hah! I knew it!"
G'lin laughed as well. "You two? Finally!"
"I thought there was more to it than just 'helping a friend'," added M'ken, with a leer at B'lee.
"Really?" asked T'sil, turning to D'min. "You and B'lee?"
D'min nodded and smiled, glancing up at B'lee as if to seek forgiveness - or reassurance of his own. B'lee shrugged and smiled back. The damage was done, and there was no point in trying to deny it.
"Since when?" asked G'lin.
"Since I was injured."
"Oh, no, not the usual 'I thought he was going to die, and then I knew I loved him' routine?" teased G'lin.
B'lee felt himself going red. "It wasn't like that," he muttered.
D'min snorted. "Actually, it was, but I didn't mind. And just for that, you can go and sit with M'ken and B'lee can sit here with me." So saying, he gave G'lin a push, and the green rider grudgingly moved off the bed. D'min held his hand out to B'lee, who took it and sat down next to his lover, rather embarrassed but relieved that he didn't have to hide his feelings anymore.
M'ken gave an exaggerated sigh and a sniff.
"What's wrong with you?" asked T'sil.
"All these months I've been waiting for B'lee to embrace his inner homo so that I can get my hands on his delectable arse, and now I find out that he's taken! It's just not fair." M'ken adopted an injured and pathetic air. "Nobody loves me. I'm going to spend another winter shivering on my own."
"Only if you keep on ignoring that blue rider from Tillek who keeps on sending you notes," T'sil pointed out. "He's been after you for months."
"Oh, him. Well, I suppose he'll have to do, now that B'lee's unavailable. Better than crying on my own." He sniffed again, winked at them to show he wasn't really upset, and then headed for the doorway.
"Where are you going?" asked B'lee.
"My dears, I've got gossip. You don't expect me to stay here all day when I could be spreading it?"
B'lee groaned. It was going to be all over the Weyr by dinner-time.