hope it gives you hell [ace/d'ale]

[pulp]

The morning seemed like it was starting off well enough. The gold flight had ended, and A'kel was left exhausted from it all. He made a small noise of protest as his mind finally roused and morning came filtering in. Awake, he was supposed to be awake. Briefly he thought about falling right back asleep. It was warm, it was comfortable, and oh that arm around his waist was a familiar sort of weight. Yes, things were good, things were excellent. The garnetrider exhaled heavily, turning and wincing a bit as he did so. Oh he ached from the activities that had happened during the night. The lazy smile that spread onto his lips from that lingered for a moment before reality finally came in to set down, bringing rational thought along with it.

Queenflight. There had been a gold flight, he hadn't spent the night in his weyr. This wasn't his weyr.

A'kel's brows drew together and his mouth tipped into a frown, and finally he opened those dark eyes of his and oh shells and shards no. No. The breath seemed to have been sucked out of his lungs for a moment because that arm around his waist was devastatingly familiar. The rider forced himself to stay still, forced himself to try and steadily breath out that breathe instead of throwing a fit. Again, this had happened again. You'd think A'kel would know better by now than to get himself even remotely near this situation, you think he would've made a point to be halfway across the whole Weyr from the individual who was cuddled up and spooning with him.

Clearly A'kel didn't learn.

The rider rubbed at his face with one hand, and did his best to try and slide out from those furs towards the edge of the bed. Not his bed, oh no it wasn't his bed, this was a bed that he knew well enough. The action of actually sitting up and perching himself on the edge of the bed was incredibly sore to do, and the rider had to bite on his lower lip to try and stifle the groan that escaped him. The groan was partially due to the actual physical sensation and partially due to what that sharding meant. No, oh no please no, great Faranth. Please let this be a fluke, some case of deja-vu that strangely got mixed together. A'kel braced himself for the glance over his shoulder (his bitten, bruised shoulder) towards the other form in the bed.

D'ale.

"By the egg." A'kel grumbled the words, huffing in a breath and burying his head in his hands. No. No this wasn't supposed to be happening anymore. He needed out, he needed to get out now before the other man woke up. Perhaps if he moved quick enough they could both blissfully act like this had never happened. Moving quickly, however, wasn't in A'kel's plans, as much as he wanted them to be. The rider was still sitting on the edge of the bed, head in hands, and lamenting this very poor decision.

[Ace]

Mhhhm. Morning.

D'ale didn't particularly like mornings. He used too, though. He used to like nothing better. While the man was not much of a morning person (it took him a few hours and a few cups of klah before he got with it), the first few minutes of the morning was priceless. When the first rays of sun hit him, made him start to stir and come to, and he found his noise against the short, soft hair's on Allekel's neck. He loved the way he smelled, loved the way he felt tucked underneath his arm.

Except, Allekel was trying to wriggle away. The greenrider grunted quietly as the warm body he was pressed against managed to escape. "What about the egg?" the man muttered, rubbing at his face as he finally pried his eyes open. Then, only then, as he eyed the red lines down the brunet's pretty pale back, the distinguishable bite marks of the man's shoulders. And it all came back to him. Right. Gold flight. Found A'kel in the dining hall, like two magnets drawn together. It was like they couldn't stop themselves.

Right. Right.

D'ale rubbed at his bristle again. He didn't get to wake up to A'kel anymore. That wasn't a thing he was allowed. That was a thing the damn metallics had taken from him, along with his hopes, his wants, and his love. His happiness. His future. There were days the man didn't even want to get out of bed, just roll over and start nursing the brandy. Today was one of those days. "Don't act like it was that bad. You were quite satisfied last night," the older man griped and, yep. Rolling over to get the flask. Fuck, he could not deal with A'kel in his bed, A'kel leaving his bed. Nope. Not this early. Good morning, brandy, it's good to see you too.

[pulp]

No. A'kel's eyes widened as he stared at the floor of the weyr and heard the partner of his bed speak up. No. There was no chance for him to escape and forget about it all, not when D'ale has responded and spoke up and made it quite clear that he was awake. A'kel's head dropped, one of his hands smoothing up his neck to rub at the back of it as he tried to figure out what exactly it was he was going to do. He needed to get out, every nerve in his body was screaming at him to get out. D'ale wasn't allowed the comfort of waking up next to him anymore, D'ale wasn't even allowed the comfort of seeing the garnetrider sans clothing anymore, shards if A'kel had his way the greenrider wouldn't even have the comfort of seeing him at all.

D'ale was the one who ended things. He was the one who had ripped into him the day after he Impressed, he was the one who found it to easily to throw ten turns away after he had bonded, and all because of Voskath. Briefly he could feel the touch of the garnet in his mind, the creature already awake and wondering over his rider's well being. He was in a good mood, which was always a good thing. I'd offer the same advice you so often give to me, ridermine, remove yourself from the situation before you lose your temper. The deep, rumbling voice of the dragon soothed him, which was infuriating and everything he wanted all at once. Voskath was part of him, he might carry scars from the dragon but that didn't mean he loved him any less.

And D'ale just couldn't accept that, he couldn't accept Voskath because of the color of his hide. Ten turns apparently meant nothing if a bit of shiny hide came between them.

A'kel's mouth drew into a thin line and he visibly tensed when D'ale spoke up again. No. No he shouldn't rise to the bait, he should leave, he had nothing to say. D'ale was the one who had wrecked everything, he was going to have to deal with that. "Oh, so you're going to acknowledge it? I'm sure your friends will love to hear how you triumphed over a piece of shiny meat." Nope, A'kel took the bait, and oh wasn't he still so sore about it. He sat there for a moment longer, hands on either side of his head as he stared into the ground again. Pants. He needed to find his pants, that was the first step in getting out of there and away from him.

[Ace]

Do not be so cruel, Ridermine. He's done nothing to deserve it.

No one fucking asked you. Back the fuck up and fuck off, D'ale snarled, with no love at all. It was amazing, really, how Voskath had more or less ruined A'kel's life as he knew it. The garnets had a stigma, they were violent towards their riders and, what's more, his douchebag weyrmate had left him over it. And then there was D'ale, D'ale and his pleasant little Iavanth. She was delicate, polite and had an excellent work ethic.

And D'ale was absolutely horrible to her. It only got worse with time. He detested every attempt made to try and curb his behavior, he absolutely writhed with the idea that he could never, ever be what he wanted. Because a green chose him. What he wanted apparently didn't matter to her. Who he was apparently didn't matter ei-

No. Nope, he couldn't go there right now. When Iavanth brushed against his mind questionably, he lashed back with something angry and violent, pushing himself to upright as he watched A'kel shuffle around.

"Oh, shut the fuck up. Don't be a fucking queen about it, A'kel, you know I don't have friends." D'ale had been a pretty personable guy, once, but his charm had more or less evaporated. His wry sense of humor had become downright cruel. "And don't fucking act like you don't know I love you, you fucking brat. I miss you, and it's none of their damn business what I do in bed!"

Scowling mightily, D'ale took another long swig of his brandy.

Like, you know, that might stop him from speaking his mind or something.

[pulp]

He did not.

A'kel shook his head, his mouth pulling down into a frown as he finally stood off of the edge of the bed and moved to retrieve his trousers. Bending down to get them was a bit of a struggle, but from there on he stepped into the legs of it and went through the motions of pulling them up while D'ale seemed content to curse and, what was that, throw a pity party about it? It wasn't A'kel's fault he didn't have any friends, oh no, the greenrider managed to drive people off just fine all on his own. A'kel continued to frown, but those hands of his that were fumbling over the fastenings of his trousers stilled when the greenrider went on and spoke the rest of his mind.

He did not.

When A'kel turned around the look he pinned onto his ex-weyrmate was near murderous, which was a feat for A'kel in itself. The man had always made a point to be jovial, to let things roll off his back and to not get all bothered. This? This bothered him because he cared about it, and he was so sick of being walked over.

"No, no I don't have to shut up. I've sharding shut my mouth and let you talk over me for how sharding long? I shut up and took everything that you had the stones to blame me with, I'm done shutting up, D'ale. Look what that sharding got me." He raised his arms a bit, and after a moment dropped them to his sides and his shoulders sagged a bit. "And now you have the audacity to tell me you miss me? You were the one who ended things. You were the one who decided to open his mouth and tell me how horrible I was for something I had no control over, something I didn't have any say in. I didn't chose that, and you put me at fault for it."

And oh, A'kel didn't even bring up the fact that he had spent most of his time celebrating his new Impression for the one night he was allowed to enjoy it by being in the infirmary getting himself stitched up. The scar was still very apparent even right there. Never mind the guilt that had settled over A'kel for simply Impressing that had hung like a dark cloud over Weyrlinghood, never mind that the rider couldn't even enjoy his own dragon not only because of the horrible reputation and violent snaps he had, but also because he had been scolded and punished for even bonding. It was an unhealthy thing, something that had hung over and had really obstructed how he even dealt with the bond he had with his dragon. It was a vile and sick thing and it all stemmed from this asshole.

This asshole who was, what, trying to pin the blame on A'kel right here again by pulling this manipulative card about how the garnetrider should see how he still loved him?

"How dare you. Really?"

[Ace]

Some small part of his mind was trying to tell him this was not how people apologized. Actually, there was a very good chance that was Iavanth. It didn't matter if that was his own conscious or his dragon, though (not that there was much difference to begin with), because D'ale never listened to begin with. That was how he ended up in 99% of the problems he had.

And for a moment? For a moment, D'ale was stunned into silence. He…he had no idea. The greenrider was busy lamenting his loss like A'kel was dead. There had been no attempt to get over it. There had been no attempt to try and make things work. That was it. A'kel Impressed, and it was over. Just like that. And it was like someone had ripped his heart out and left an A'kel-sized hole where it should have been. The edges were all torn and ragged, and D'ale? D'ale wasn't going to be the same.

There was no going back.

But…D'ale wasn't the only person in this relationship, either.

"I was drunk," he finally hissed, like being an alcoholic was an excuse for anything. (In truth, the Searchrider probably needed some help before it got completely out of hand, but who was even there to notice his bad habits?) "I was fucking drunk, and I was upset, and I was jealous." D'ale set his jaw, getting to his feet. He didn't bother looking for any of his clothes, wasn't anything the garnetrider hadn't seen before.

"And that doesn't mean it was right-" was this the alcohol talking? "-but you didn't even fucking fight back! That was it! That was the end of us! You had a garnet dragon, why the fuck would you need a disillusioned greenrider hanging around? Huh? You didn't even fucking try!"

Not once.

D'ale had his little fit, and A'kel proceeded to smile and nod, and pretend it never even happened. And maybe that cut deeper than anything, cut deeper than the jealous and the hurt. The guilt, though? That was worst of all, and that was all his doing.

D'ale had a really good thing. A really good fucking thing, and he let it go. A'kel? Well, maybe it wasn't so good for him, D'ale wasn't much of a catch, as far as he was concerned, but shards, for a while there? For a while he thought A'kel had liked him back just as much. But shit, son. It seemed like one of it had gotten over it, and it wasn't D'ale.

[pulp]

"Drunk? Are you blaming it all on being drunk? Because we both know that's a load of wherry shit. It wouldn't have mattered if you had been drunk for days, you know exactly what you said to me. That doesn't make it okay, that doesn't excuse you for what you said." Oh this was a conversation that had taken three turns building up, the sharding turns. The rider squared around to face D'ale, his dark eyes stuck on the greenrider's face as he went on and, what? Was he really going with that? A'kel was furious, but the anger only manifested itself as hurt in those eyes of his and the tightening of his palms into fists.

"Fight back? I was supposed to fight back? You came and tore me apart and ended our relationship, and you wanted me to come crawling after you like a kicked canine begging for forgiveness?" Did he even realize how unhealthy that had sounded? The garnetrider shook his head a bit, a look of disbelief. "I didn't try because I had been split from chest--" one of his hands pointed to the beginning of his scar underneath his pectoral and started the route down to his hip"--to near groin. I had been gutted like a sharding fish. I spent the night in the Infirmary. I spent the next turns caring for a growing dragon, a hatchling, who I wasn't even allowed to enjoy because of what you said. Can you comprehend that? I wasn't allowed to enjoy the very thing that bonded with my mind, and I'm damn sure if Voskath had been a blue none of this would happen."

Oh there was vehemence there now in his tone. He was hurt, and he had spent such a long time doubting everything.

"And that's right, I have a garnet dragon, do you know what that meant?" A'kel nearly growled the word out and in turn held out his arms (please ignore the way his hands were all but trembling from emotion). Oh, D'ale, did you ever wonder why your ex-weyrmate suddenly had such an abundance of scars on those arms of his? "That meant I had sharding more to deal with than anyone else." Weyrlinghood was months of having his dragon flip-flop between agreeable and a monster, one that sought to satisfy his little blood lust rampages with his rider's own flesh and pain. "But Faranth sharding forbid I try to keep myself in one piece, right? I should've just been tripping over my own feet to go running back to you instead of making sure I can still use my sharding hands."

Oh the garnetrider hadn't been unable to unload about that onto any soul, but here it was all falling out now. "So you got jealous, you blew up, you broke it all, and I got to deal with the fallout. I got to deal with--with--" Oh he couldn't bring himself to say it. He had to deal with the duality of his dragon, had to deal with the monster side of it after being torn apart for even bonding to the beast, he had to learn how to love and hate something at the same time so much that it made him ache to think about it--and the alternative, being dragonless, was even worse.

[Ace]

Whatever D'ale was expecting, it wasn't that. Some sick, twisted part of him just hoped they could shrug it off and let it go. He knew better than that, though. A'kel wasn't an idiot, and he wasn't a pushover. He might be quiet, sometimes, not as willing to sound off, but he was the greenrider's strongest supporter, once upon a time. That took a lot of spine. Still. Still. The older man wasn't expecting the younger rider to absolutely erupt.

It hit him like a bullet to the chest, and D'ale was left gaping like a fish out of water. Suddenly, it felt like the brandy in his hand betrayed him. His tongue was thick, his mind was slow and cloudy. Over and over, he opened his mouth and closed it again. He felt like he was just struggling to breath, what a punch to the gut. Because he was right. A'kel was right, wasn't he? If Voskath had been a blue, D'ale would have been so proud of his boy. Just over the moon. But he was a shiny little red, and D'ale?

D'ale had judged him on the color of his dragon, no questions asked.

Something cold settled in the brunet's chest, and he finally looked away. The man hadn't felt ashamed himself for…well, probably since he realized he hadn't been good enough to Impress something outside a green. Those days he felt left out because he didn't have a bronze. It was one of those days, only it was worse than the rider could ever imagine. A'kel hated him. And he deserved it.

Tomorrow, maybe, he might respond with the usual huff and bluster. He might get angry, yell at some innocent bystanders, and take it out on Iavanth. Iavanth, who refused to allow him to just be.

Today, though, D'ale seemed to wilt in front of the garnetrider, eying the mouth of the bottle as he suddenly understood all too well why his ex-weyrmate had no fight back.

"Sorry about that," he muttered hoarsely, staring out towards a blank wall before taking a swing.

[pulp]

The tension between the two was obvious, and shards A'kel was going to hold his ground on this. He had allowed it to be pushed to the side for long enough and he wasn't going to just allow it to fade into memory. This was important because it had hurt, it had hurt him, and it still hurt. D'ale had been such the mouthpiece of trying to voice that color equality was such a strong point, that chromatics should be just as valued as anything with a little shine to their hide, and yet there he was doing the opposite of what he preached. He didn't stand for equality, if he did why would he have demonized his own weyrmate for Impressing--without even meaning to--a garnet?

A'kel felt a small sense of triumph, a bittersweet sense of triumph when D'ale looked away. Good. He needed that point to sink in, he needed the greenrider to know why he had acted the way he did and what repercussions his actions wrought. The garnetrider tightened his jaw, his hands finally dropping to finish up lacing his trousers. He ached. His body ached physically and reopening the wound that was their past relationship ached something terrible. The rider only paused and looked up once more when D'ale seemed to locate the stones to actually speak up and, by the first egg, was that an apology?

"About what?" Was the greenrider trying to apologize for it all together? For snapping right then? Did he really think a muttered sorry would undo the past three turns that had culminated between them? His anger flared briefly when D'ale followed up the words with a swig from his drink, and oh what the man would give to just reach over and slap it out of his hands. Instead the garnetrider kept his ground, grinding his teeth together for a moment. "If you're actually doing to try with that, put down the sharding drink and look at me."

[Ace]

"Everything."

D'ale had sat back down on his bed, at some point, lifting his chin to glance up at his ex-weyrmate. He stared at him in silence, taking another long swig from his bottle. "Haven't put down the bottle in three turns, A'kel." Wasn't about to start now, though. No thanks. The greenrider shook his head, and turned away again.

He wasn't stupid enough to think it would work. He wasn't stupid enough to think it would mean anything after three turns. Shards, D'ale wasn't sure if there was even a point to it. But he had loved A'kel, he had loved him so dearly. More than anything. Anyone. (Even more than Iavanth, and the green was the creature sewn to his mind and with him 'til death did they part. Funny, how that worked.) He loved him still. He would never stop loving him, no matter how far it drove him into the ground.

So he deserved an apology. A proper one. Even if it was three turns too late, even if it didn't mean a damn thing. D'ale was a lot of things, but he was loyal to his love, even now.

"M' sorry for everything, Al. I had no right."

[pulp]

Everything? The man was apologizing for everything? A'kel immediately felt a touch of suspicion about it, it was irrational and uncalled for but he couldn't help it. For three turns he had been suffering with the fallout, his relationship with his very dragon suffered from it, if only because while he knew the beast loved him unconditionally he had never felt comfortable returning the feeling or even acknowledging that truth, and it all stemmed from what this man had said. The person he had loved had loved him wholly, and to know all of that could be so easily changed in his lover's mind, in an instant, had been unsettling. Truthfully it had gotten A'kel to wondering if D'ale had ever loved him, or just the idea of him.

The garnetrider's hands tensed, balling into fists once again. "Three turns? Put down the sharding bottle if you're planning to actually do this. If you're blaming yourself on being drunk when you came and ended things that day I don't want you to be drunk when you apologize for it." A'kel knew he deserved better than that. Sure, he often wouldn't stand up for himself like this in other situations, but this was different. He needed closure of some kind, he needed those wounds to seal and to be able to find a way to deal with it all. He deserved more than some scotch-addled, slurred apology.

"You didn't have a right. I spent turns supporting you because I cared, because I believe in what you were saying, and when it turned out I needed some support you left." A'kel's hands moved to run through his hair, resting finally on the back of his neck where he tried to seep some of the tension out. An apology was a start. A'kel wasn't sure he was capable of forgiving right then, but it was a start, and that was entirely better than nothing.

[Ace]

Ohhh, he did not like where this was going. Not at all. As it was addressed, D'ale glanced down at the flask, at the amber liquid swirling around inside. He wasn't drunk. He wished he was drunk, this would be so much easier to swallow if he was drunk, but he wasn't. Still, the greenrider continued to allow himself to be directed, and after several silent moments, he placed the container back on the bedside table. After staring down his bare feet for several seconds, he glanced over his shoulder at A'kel.

Oh, tell him something he didn't know.

D'ale knew. He knew all of that. He didn't want to admit it, but he knew. He had no idea how to support A'kel through that, and he couldn't handle it. Change had always made the man exceptionally uncomfortable, even if the brunet couldn't understand that was what it was, at his very core. He still hadn't gotten over the change in his plans, the biggest let down in his entire life. (Because, ultimately, being Impressed by a green made him feel like he just wasn't good enough for anything else. He was the leftovers. D'ale wasn't needed, wasn't necessary. No one wanted him.)

Eventually, he raised his hands, palms up in a rare, submissive display. "I'm sorry," he repeated. What else did A'kel want from him? Honestly, what else would A'kel let him do? The man didn't want to be seen anywhere near him. "I can't go back and change it." I can't fix things. I can't stop. So treasure this, A'kel, because D'ale would not be this soft come tomorrow, not when he'd been cracked open and left on the floor. "I'm sorry. It was wrong. You didn’t deserve it."

What else was there to say?

[pulp]

Oh? What... what was that?

D'ale had actually moved to put the bottle down. A'kel watched, his features softening only a bit, which in turn only made him look a touch more sad than angry. The garnetrider took a moment to mentally brace himself, to meet the greenrider's gaze and wait. He said his bit, he said everything that had been stored up inside of him and it was D'ale's move now. It was his turn to either throw it all right back at A'kel and the man could return to thinking the greenrider was a piece of scum, or he could try to do the fair thing at at least acknowledge what A'kel had gone through. An apology wouldn't wipe that all away, an apology wouldn't just make him cover the past turns up and act like it never happened.

An apology would be a step forward, though.

His expressions were going to undermine him. Once D'ale moved to raise his hands up like that A'kel's eyebrows knit together a bit more, but again the look was one of pain and ache rather than anything furious or dripping in hatred. He couldn't hate D'ale, shards he wanted to, everything could be so much easier if he just hated the man. This probably wouldn't even be happening if he just hated him, he could've just walked out of the weyr if that was the case instead of confronting him about it.

The words his former weyrmate spoke caused A'kel's shoulders to drop a notch, and if he had looked threatening before, well, some of that eased off of A'kel instantly. The rider bit onto his lower lip, eyes searching over the other rider's face. "Thank you." Well that wasn't his first choice of how to respond to all of this, but it was the thing that slipped out before anything else managed to make it's way to his lips. "I-I need this. I needed that. I can't forgive you." Oh did that sound a bit pained, and for a moment A'kel had to look away to hide some of the dampness in those dark eyes of his. "Not yet. I need to work it out, I need to think. I want to though, and I will, but I need time."

He needed that because maybe, just maybe that would make him sleep a bit better--as to whether that was due to D'ale actually trying to make an effort to mend things or whatever other reason, shards, he couldn't decipher that right now.