Better

[issaoshisyth]

With Issa's resignation from weyrling wingsecond, her time has become more her own after drills and meetings with her temporarily assigned wing and she takes advantage of it this afternoon. She found Reyce with a surprise hug from behind and a shamelessly involved kiss to follow it, then fell back into the routine of normal conversation as they sat, thigh to thigh, to eat their food. As the meal wore on, he may have noticed a shred of suspicion in the glances she gave him, but if pressed she would simply shrug it off, shake her head. That sneaking sense persists still, as they dispose of their dishes, her eyes searching his face briefly before she twines her newly freed hand with his and guides them at a meandering pace out the nearby bowl entrance. "So I was thinking," she announces slowly, taking a pause to gauge his reaction to just that crisply stated beginning before she continues, "that we could let my mother take Asha for a while today." With Missima's departure more imminent than their own, she's been spending as much time as possible with her daughter, granddaughter, and, when he happens to be attached to the other two, Reyce himself. "And we could have some time alone," she adds, eyes snapping back up to watch his face again, remaining as she goes on to suggest casually, "maybe find that big rock again, the one you took me to for my birthday." A rush of riders ahead of them, freshly dusted from sweeps, hurries in to catch the last round of hot food, but they barely have to pause before passing out into the bowl, streaked with sun and shade on this cloudy but pleasantly springy day.

It's a proportional thing. The more free time Issa has, the less Reyce has to spend with her. Putnam's grudging acceptance of his star pupil's decision to leave did not extend far enough to excuse him from the duties he agreed to before, and this week Reyce had to step in to teach class for the third and final time. Add that preparation to the papers he's been swimming in lately, and his recent presence in the weyr has mostly been a formality. He roused himself far enough to press around the issue of her suspicious glances, but unable to find traction with any of his questions, soon gave up the matter for a mystery and went back to dinner as usual. Her suggestion for some alone time, when it's finally offered, gets him to duck his head and let out a small breath of amusement. "Yeah," he answers, lifting his head with a quick sniff. "Could really climb it, this time." His hand squeezes hers as he pulls it behind his back, pushing it towards his waist and waiting to see if it takes before he puts his own arm over her shoulders. Meanwhile his eyes are following that rush of riders, watching them carefully to ensure his little tug on her hand, the subtle shift of his steps to one side, was enough to get them both out of the hungry warpath; once the riders are past, then he looks down at Issa.

Issa's gaze is still silently curious when it meets his, as if he were in possession of a particularly alluring secret and she was trying to make him reveal it without even realizing it. She's smiling though, easy and unconcerned with whatever sticks in her mind. Her hand went obligingly where he guided it and now it lies flat for several steps more before settling into a slight tapping motion that just rustles the fabric of his shirt. "Did you want to bring anything along?" she asks, a sudden, curious whim tossed away with a vague shrug that presses against his draped arm.

Reyce hadn't considered bringing something, and the question makes him miss half a beat in his step. He catches up with one long stride that easily puts him in synch with Issa again, then settles down into the shorter paces he must adopt to keep time with her. "Could bring your blanket," he supposes, but he's already shrugging the suggestion off as he makes it. "Not that cold, so don't have to." And, since he's still heading towards the weyr's exit tunnel: "Would just go, unless you want something." His turn to aim a curious look back at her, his eyebrows lifting blandly.

To balance, Issa's brows drop lower, too shallow to even etch out the crease between them, as she puzzles out his nonchalant response to her suggestion. The expression lasts for several steps more in silence, then a slow, one-edged smile drifts up to join it as she accuses lightly and half-disbelieving, "You really did forget, didn't you?" Finally out in the bowl, they manage to avoid any near misses like the one before and find a goal for their easy pace; Oshisyth makes her backwinged entrance not far off, settling into a puff of dust that's already settling by the time they reach the edge of it.

Curious becomes confused, then concerned, as Reyce's steps slow past the point of just needing to keep pace with Issa and eventually bring them to the halt. The dust whisks around their ankles as Reyce turns to frown at Issa, making it clear beyond doubt that whatever it is, he really did forget it. And then he remembers. His eyebrows reverse direction again, popping back up his forehead without disturbing the creased lines of worry. "I forgot." He barely raises his voice above a whisper, but even quiet, it's easy to detect the surprise and disbelief in his words. How could he have forgotten? Another hand reaches out to Issa, holding her just within arm's reach as it strokes down her shoulder, unconsciously begging forgiveness. "Didn't even think the month, Issa, I'm sorry."

Issa lets out a sigh full of forced patience when she's caught back by his stopping, smile dropping into a displeased little pout at his quiet admission. She levels a gaze at him that's only mildly annoyed as those looks go, and utters, "Reyce," with a long-drawn and breathy tone. Then she casts a sweeping glance over the rest of the bowl, her approaching green given a look while she's at it. Oshisyth stops a few feet off, eyes whirling greener by the second as she looks Reyce's way, issuing a dust-spreading snort that sounds vaguely amused. "Don't worry, dear," she responds with a bit of half-teasing sourness as she looks back at him, the inflection dropped for a more sincere tone, shaded by disappointment. "You'll make it up somehow, I'm sure."

Reyce pulls her closer, his arms encircling her waist and making it arch into him. "I'll make it up," he promises, still with that wrinkle of worry marking his brow. He gently swings Issa, rocking her from one side to another so it slowly becomes harder for her to keep her feet anchored in one place. "Really will. Want to." One of his swings is not so gentle, forcing her to stumble sideways and over his foot, which put itself in the way when she wasn't looking. Reyce turns with the motion, giving her no room to recover as he winds her down and then crumples her back together as he picks her up in a ball. A heavy grunt puffs out of him as he gets back up with her in his arms, tossing her weight and ignoring her protests if she has any. "Don't need a dragon to get to the rock," he comments, murmuring over her head as he watches Oshisyth.

Issa is only minorly resistant to his little rocking motions, going along with them grudgingly until he simply bowls her over. Her protest is just a light grunt, surprised when she trips down and he doesn't keep her upright, followed by another when he hoists her back up. She can't help but throw her arms haphazardly around his neck to keep herself steady, and her fingers dig into his skin less than politely where she finds it to pay him back for the sudden lift. When he looks at Oshisyth, she follows suit, explaining, "She wanted to find a place to sun anyway." Oshisyth dips her head under the paired scrutiny, dropping into a more comfortable crouch while they wait. "She says she won't get in the way," she adds as a side note, one leg kicking out slowly before she just submits to his holding grip, relaxing into it and letting her head drop sideways against her arm.

This mode of transportation means Reyce doesn't get to go very far with Issa in his arms, but he makes what he can of the distance. "Make sure you're not up to something," he tells her, meandering toward Oshisyth. "She's fine." Alas, despite his meandering efforts, the green is still only a few paces away, and by the time he's finished speaking he's already reached her side. Issa gets jounced again, the reproachful dig of her fingernails ignored, as he turns her upright and bends down to set her feet on the ground.

"No," Issa confirms for him as he sets her down again, "I'm not up to anything." With a flick of her wrist she straightens the jacket he's shifted up with his hefting and a toss of her head rights stubborn curls. "I thought you were up to something," she continues, passing only a quick glance at him before she starts to scale the straps to her usual seat. "Pretending to have no plans, playing dumb," she all but grumbles while she's scaling her dragon's side, her leg tossed over with a soft grunt to finish it all off.

Reyce watches her climb up, his hands slipping towards his pants pockets while he stands there. "Really am dumb," he answers on a heavy exhalation, turning his eyes down to the ground and knocking a loose stone away with his boot. It goes skittering under Oshisyth's belly while he approaches her shoulder, giving her a quick touch with his palm before he grabs the straps and climbs up.

Oshisyth flinches at the bouncing crack of the stone as it rolls under her, but catches herself as he approaches, peering around instead of startling any further. His one-handed touch gets a soft snort, and then she turns forward again. "You're not dumb," Issa corrects him in a low murmur as he reaches the ridges, even though it was her implication that sparked the comment in the first place. She leaves it at that though, as he situates himself, as relaxed in her own spot as she would be on any couch, the harnesses left unbuckled for the short trip. He'll have only a handful of seconds of sitting before Oshisyth, deciding they're sufficiently secure, throws herself into the air, winging up over the bowl wall in a lazy arc and swooping back down in the direction of the cliff that marks the spot of the flat rock they found months ago. She has to crunch a few newly budding bushes in her landing, but she sets them down a short walk's distance from the side of it and crouches low again for the dismount.

After this long, Reyce has grown comfortable enough to go for a ride without strapping up, but he still prefers not to if his hands aren't otherwise occupied with dinner plates or homework. Buckling himself in keeps him occupied until Oshisyth springs up, where the fast whoosh of air makes it impossible to say anything, anyway. Since she didn't strap in, Issa will beat him to the ground by a long shot, but Reyce catches up quickly and plants himself in front of her, arms going around her waist and dragging her up tight again. "Really am sorry, then," he tries, slowly walking her backwards out of Oshisyth's wing reach.

Issa waits for him on the ground near Oshisyth's forearm, but she's not exactly idle. While he's busy extricating himself, she's busy extricating something else from one of the pouches along the very front section of the straps. She's only just fastened up the flap again, a square, hide-wrapped package in her hand, when he pulls her in to him. She goes along easily and submits to his walking, all the resistance in her voice as she tells him, "You should be." Even then, it's a small, waning amount. Her arms are tucked against his chest, and the package along with them; it's soft, cushy beneath the rough hide that's been closed with a string, done up with a bow tied by a more precise and professional hand than Issa's. As soon as they're clear, Oshisyth takes one last look at them then takes off again, spreading dust again as she wings up and over the outcropping of rock, out of sight on her way to some ideal spot to soak up the returned spring sunlight.

Reyce waits for the dust to settle, ceasing to walk Issa anywhere for a moment and using the downtime to tip his chin down, eyeing that package she has pressed between them. "'m sorry," he says again, this time with less remorse, more simple reassurance that he is - as he should be - sorry. "Find another day as special, you get two parties." As he speaks, his face leans closer to hers, his shadow taking over from Oshisyth's as the green wings away. If he can catch her mouth, he'll kiss it; otherwise it's the bridge of her nose that gets the attention. "Anniversary of the first time we fucked," he suggests, parting the kiss suddenly and lowering his hands just below her ass, giving her thighs a pull towards him but stepping back, reversing direction now that Oshisyth's left the path to the rock clear, so the gesture goes nowhere except to leave Issa with the responsibility of walking him toward their goal.

Issa lifts her chin, an expression of interest in this new suggestion as much as a move to meet his nearing mouth. She allows him a reserved kiss, her eyes remaining open and on his the whole time. When he grabs her, pulls her closer, she rocks up onto the balls of her feet, so while she's now providing the movement, he'll be in charge of stability; only the fingers she has curled into the a crease of his shirt and his hands on her ass keep her from toppling over backwards as she keeps them walking towards the rock. "Mmm," she hums indecisively, a flash of impish mischief coming to her eyes as she looks up at him and wonders, "Was it really that memorable?" A shrug is given for effect, a play of indifference that's immediately undercut by the comment that follows. "You forget that, though, and you're going to be in real trouble." A finger lifts from the package and jabs into his chest then, her point made, a small smile slides up, unspoken agreement to this second anniversary that's been proposed. Now, along with stability, Reyce will have to look out for direction, for even as the side of the rock nears, Issa doesn't turn to see how close her steps are taking them.

Although he left Issa in charge of guiding him back, Reyce doesn't trust her for long once he notices that she's watching him more than their path. Each step becomes slower, his heels sliding back to test the ground she has him walking into. "Was okay," he answers, pausing as his next step knocks into a raised tree root. His hands pull her up as she moves along after him, bringing her to her tiptoes in those big rider boots and half-carrying her over the root. "Fucked you better since. But I remember." One of his ground-scuffing heels comes up to the rock, finally, letting him know that they're there; all the same, he lets Issa put him another step back till he's pressed up against it, using the straight lines of this part of its face to reinforce his ramrod posture. This poise, and the sober look he turns down on her, are completely at odds with the way his hands have begun traveling around her ass and thighs, rubbing her closer to him while his body stays unresponsive.

Issa says nothing in return for his answer to her tease, but subtle clues-- a hitch to her smile, her gaze dropping away, unfocused, for a few seconds, the slow rock of her hips beneath his hands-- suggests that she can remember well enough herself. With a forceful pat to the rather rumpled package, she leaves it in his keeping and peels away from his wandering hands, muttering a soft, "Come on." Only a few steps to their left she finds the crack that provides footholds and, with much less effort than before, climbs to the top, motioning for him to toss the package up once she reaches it.

The problem with teasing Issa is that Reyce eventually winds up teasing himself, and by the time she pulls away his breathing has grown decidedly short. He's not too far gone to return, though; it just takes a few moments while he stands where he is and watches her climb up the rock, that package she left him with punched absently up to his chest. He doesn't even seem to notice till she gestures for it, and he has to send a glance down to confirm that there is indeed something on his chest that she's motioning at. Getting onto his own tiptoes, he reaches as high as he can before giving the thing a small, final toss to carry it the rest of the way, waiting a second to make sure she got it before he follows her path up the footholds. At the top, he remains standing, surveying what he can see of the area and not looking for Issa till a few seconds after.

Hands made deft by turns of tossing firestone snatch the package out of the air and bring it back to Issa's side, where it's held safe until he gets to the top. She has enough courtesy to wait until he's done with his survey before slinging the thing right back to him again. "It's for you," she explains while she watches him deal with it, a lopsided smile on her face. Then she steps over to his side, one hand falling idly at his waist while she urges him to open it with a little flick from the other one. Already a corner of the hide has come undone with all their tossing it about, revealing a glimpse of the black fabric beneath it. "When I ordered them, you were still going to be teaching," she explains quietly as the pair of nicely tailored, buttoned shirts are uncovered, one the predicted black and the other a dark, navy blue.

Reyce doesn't expect the thing to be thrown back, and he doesn't have turns of firestone sacks behind him, but his reflexes are good enough to catch the thing even though it gets a little bent in the snap of his palm. He may have guessed, already, that it's a gift, because he looks immediately guilty for crushing it and makes haste to try and smooth it back out. The flick from her hand stops him, and after a beat he redirects his energy into unwrapping it as he was ordered. The hides go into his pocket as he lifts the shirts up, turning them around so he can see the black on one side and the blue on the other. "Still going to be working," he points out in a murmur. Then his eyes go to her. "Thanks." A hand frees itself up to find her chin and pull it towards him for a short, gentle kiss. His eyes close for it, but they're quick to reopen and find hers when their lips part, before he's let her have her chin back. He scans her gaze rapidly, holding her steady for it, then gives the new shirts a vague twitch in her direction and says, "It's good." She can have her chin back now.

The loose hold Issa has on his waist tightens when he draws her in for that kiss, pressing even further into a half-hug while he scans her gaze. While she pivots to stand in front of him, she draws the shirts and his hand in between them, paying no heed to the rumping she gives the fabric. "The weaver said they'd breathe better than what you have now, too," she continues, expanding on just how good they really are, her voice lighter for all his encouragement. "I would have ordered Benden colors," she says, watching as she rolls a fold of the blue one between her thumb and forefinger, "but I like you in blue better." Her eyes squint with humor as she turns them up to him, smilingly waiting for him to drop another kiss.

Reyce drops that kiss promptly, rumpling the new clothes some more when they get caught between him and his goal. Annoyed more by the sound of their rustling than by his chances of creasing them, now, he parts from the kiss to pull the shirts out from in front of him, throwing his arm around Issa's back and letting the shirts dangle there while he returns to make the kiss longer. "Blue's better," he agrees, once he has his mouth back. "Don't like Benden colors." So sayeth its once-future Lord.

Issa lets out a soft little laugh for his proclaimed dislike of the red and purple combination, utters a quick, "Good," then simply draws him back down by the collar for another kiss. They stand, pressed together and locked at the lips, for a long moment more before Issa tugs him down even further. Ignoring the complication of those new, mostly clean shirts, she drags them to their knees before letting her hands wander, stroking downward over his clothes. She rocks slowly back to sit, enticing him along with her with caressing nudges and quicker pecks, but finally has to break altogeter to scoot back onto a more flat section of the stone. She sinks onto her back when she finds an acceptable spot, laying out and squinting up into the sun, but as soon as he tries to follow, she stops him with a hand on his shoulder, mischief blooming in her smile. Slowly, she shakes her head and gives him a light push to send him back up again. "Strip," she orders, lifting her hand until only a pointing finger is left, jabbing into his skin. Then even it falls away and she moves it, along with her other arm, behind her head, reclining while she smugly waits for him to comply.

The mostly clean shirts become a little less so when Reyce sets them aside, mindful of the need to treat them with respect but careless of the dirt on top of the rock. That taken care of, he moves immediately to join Issa when she stretches out below him, snorting when she catches him up short and glaring down at the offending hand. Her light push isn't enough to repel him, though, and he remains in place for a few moments to watch her through narrowed eyes and consider her command. All of a sudden he moves back with a grunt, ripping his shirt off over his head and tossing it away. Pants are next, although once he rips open their laces he has to stand up to kick them off his legs, stepping on the heels of his boots to pull them off meanwhile. In the span of less than two minutes he stands naked above Issa, trusting to his earlier survey of the area to have eliminated the possibility of onlookers and remaining unabashedly on his feet, in clear view and watching only his girlfriend below.

Issa breaks in to a grin when he begins to unceremoniously rip his clothes off, her eyes unabashedly tracking over the skin he so quickly uncovers. When he's finished she lets him stand there for a moment, watching her while she gets an appraising eyeful. A hand slides out from under her head again, but instead of beckoning him back down, she points again, drawing a quick circle in the air while she continues to beam mischief up at him. Apparently, he's expected to turn around for her now.

Reyce's eyelids fall into a heavy slant when she makes that gesture at him, but he doesn't move for her. If she wants to see his backside, she'll have to scoot herself around. All he's going to do is stand still for it.

"Oh, come on," Issa makes her appeal, smile pulled down into a quietly playful pout. Her booted foot is stretched out and she prods the inside of his ankle gently with the toe of it. "I just want to look at you," she explains with a bit of pleading left in her tone, smile spreading wide again as she tilts her head and holds eye contact steady, trying to win him over with sheer cuteness.

Reyce shifts his ankle out from the poke, solidifying his stance as he sets his feet down firmly. "Letting you look at me," he answers, opening his eyes to a regular set now when he looks down at her. "Letting you move around wherever you want, so you can look at me." He shrugs, leaving it to her to decide just how much she wants to look at his ass next.

Issa considers this option, her eyes already squinted against the sun's gleam thinning even further. After a moment of thought, though, she grunts and heaves herself up, rolling up to a crouch before springing up. She meets his eye impishly once more before moving her gaze down to the rest of his body. Not only does she look, now she touches, laying her fingers lightly along his stomach and letting them trail down low to glance teasingly off his hip before she steps around behind him. She can be heard humming musingly while she surveys his backside, while running her touch down the line of his spine then indecently down to cover over his bare ass. She leans forward while she lets that gentle grasp linger, so that her little laugh is breathed down between his shoulder blades.

When she springs up in front of him, Reyce snorts and gives his head a little shake, but he settles at the touch of her fingers. His eyes trail her fingers down his body as far as they're still visible, then follow her face past his shoulder when she moves around behind. The ass-grasp gets him, though, light as it is; there's a full-on grunt this time as he shifts up on the balls of his feet, reflexively getting away from her touch and stubbornly remaining that way even when instinct fades back to awareness. It was a pretty nice show, that movement: accompanied by a slight tensing of muscles, it sent a ripple along his back and firmed up his ass even more. "Would," Reyce begins, only to stop short and give a 'hrr' of annoyance when he finds his voice gone unexpectedly whisper on him. He clears it, and tries again: "You were naked too, it would work for me."

That little laugh grows stronger at his comment, and her hands stroke up from their hold on his ass to the muscles of his back, touch grown more greedy so that it's almost a small massage. "Then undress me already," she utters in a more purposeful whisper touched with a hint of laughter, lips brushing down in that same spot on his back.

His shoulder blades press in towards the spot her lips rest on, a brief warning before his arms bend back to catch her and push her out from behind him. As soon as she's moving, he's moving into her, turning around and pressing himself to her body as he grabs a kiss off her neck. His hands inch up beneath her shirt, finding the clasp of her bra and undoing it quickly. The kiss breaks and a swift skywards tug brings both shirt and bra over her head, forceful if she doesn't lift her arms fast enough. No kiss follows it up, as Reyce must shift his whole attention to the fastenings of her pants, then to her boots as the pants pile around her ankles and he squats in front of her to get the boots out of the way. He lifts her legs for her, one at a time, and slides away the pile of clothing; for whatever reason, he left the underwear on till last but finally pulls it down from her hips and leaves it to her to step out of them when they fall to the ground. Standing again, he seizes two more kisses without laying a hand on her, then draws back to look her face, adopting the same immovable stance he had when she was examining him with her clothes on.

Issa smiles broadly while he goes about stripping her, chuckling softly at his haste when he drags her arms upward with the shirt. A hand strikes out and lands atop his head for balance when he moves into a crouch, fingers ruffling down into his hair after she's steady. The underwear is tossed away with a toe when she steps out of them, but her smile-squinted eyes are already on his face when he slips a couple kisses in. She steps along with him when he withdraws, hands on his waist as she presses her newly bared body up against his stoic stance, asking simply, "Better?"

Reyce's nostrils flare as he puffs a hot breath into her face, still studying her eyes. "Could be," he murmurs thoughtfully, reaching out to close an arm around her waist. He pulls his arm up to the small of her back, dragging her to her tiptoes and making sure her body remains tightly pressed against his the whole time so that their stomachs and chests rub. Suddenly both hands move to her shoulders, giving her a strong push to force her into a kneel in front of him - and if she doesn't get the idea, he'll help her by locking a leg behind her knees and pulling forward, ready to step out of the way if they buckle. Whether she ultimately kneels or gets some other idea, he remains standing after she's down, slowly circling with a hand on her cheek to maintain contact while he surveys the lines of her body.

The surprise at the sudden press downward doesn't last very long, replaced by a knowing smile and a roguish lift of an eyebrow as the idea suddenly comes to her. Issa slides herself lower, far slower than he might prefer, her grip on his waist used to help her knees find the stone without any jarring. Once she's down she takes things, quite literally, into her own hands, and then her mouth, in that soft, teasing way she has. Her hands oh-so-gradually work their way up the backs of his legs and when they reach his ass again she stops, using that hold to give him a short tug downward, lips curling up as she lets him know that he's welcome to join her down on that smooth and waiting piece of rock.

Reyce stops the instant she touches him, emitting a small noise from the back of his throat. The hand that was on her cheek moves to the back of her head, its fingers digging slowly and deeply through her hair; the other hand finds one of hers on his leg and speeds up her caresses, pulling her fingertips swiftly up the back of his leg. It's already retreated to find balance on her shoulder when she withdraws and gives his ass that tug, earning another noise in his throat as he trips towards her. He catches himself, but to little end: as soon as he's steady, he starts pushing her back and himself stretches out over her. His hands flatten her legs beneath him, pinning her knees out while he scrapes her body with hard, staccato shoves against the stone. He shifts around, searching for a spot that will make her cry out, and once he's found it he stays and increases the pressure and speed until even he's giving out groans of effort. A final push jolts him against her, scratching her up and down the rough stone, when he comes and stretches out one of those groans several seconds. He ducks his face down over hers, panting out into her mouth.

That first cry is colored with surprise as well as pleasure, fumbling hands finding his arms, his shoulders, his neck with approving little strokes as she laughs distractedly at herself and her reaction. With the next drawn out groan her hands slide back down, brushing across her stomach before simply falling to the stone beside her. The rest of her body is as good as putty beneath him, absorbing his rhythm and mimicing it heedless of the hard stone beneath. Low grunts give way to more urgent cries as she arches into the tremor that runs through her, her breath coming in short rasps when she collapses again under his final few thrusts. "Ohh," she drags, transitioning into a low moan as she closes her mouth to his in a kiss sloppy with delight. Her little praises have become more and more a matter of inflection and now is no exception as she murmurs, adoring and utterly pleased, "Reyce," then even more extended, "Reyce." Her hands start back into caressing, starting with his ass, popular territory today, and working haphazardly up his back.

Reyce meets that kiss with equal sloppiness, his eyes closed and his motions guided by the heat off her mouth. He's let go of her knees, giving his arms time to recover, but eventually he stirs again, bracing out his elbows and pushing off her. With a groan, he rolls onto his back, flopping an arm out to its full length only to bring it back for Issa. His fingers drag along her ribs, pulling her toward him, but too weak to insist so quite soon his hand just winds up flopped out again. "Better," he croaks, stopping the sentence to swallow when he finds his voice thrown out by the groaning. "Since the first." His eyes open, flicking around quickly till he finds where her face has moved in the time he's been out of it. "Told you that."

Issa rolls onto her side at the silent signal from those dragging fingers, but the motion is marked with another groan, faintly pained this time as her back leaves the stone. She rearranges herself under his arm, whole body leaning up against his side while her back, gradually turning redder under its cover of dust and the occasional tiny pebble that's managed to stick, is left open to recover from that rough scraping. Her drooping eyes open again when he speaks and there's a dreamy little smile waiting for him when he looks to meet them. "Better," she purrs agreement before her lips seal a few little kisses against that side of his chest. As she's pulling away from those, she picks herself up from the stone as well, deciding that he's a much more comfortable surface to lay on and moves to straddle him, to lay her stomach out flat on top of his. "And better," she says as she relaxes heavily on top of him, another couple of kisses planted along his breastbone before she mutters, "and better." She lingers off into a low laugh, lips just brushing along his skin now without any distinct kisses, all the way up to the base of his neck. "I've taught you so much," she murmurs through that laugh, shifting up slightly so that she can use her elbows, placed on either side of his head, to brace some of her weight.

Reyce helps her crawl onto him, summoning his hand again to pull her the rest of the way up and then gently push around till she's comfortably situated for him. His eyelids have settled low again, leaving just a slant of his eyes, but there's a distinct smirk turning the corner of his mouth in. "Older woman," he comments, lifting his head off the ground and opening his eyes again to look down at her back. He moves his hands over her skin with big, sweeping movements that send the pebbles there flying away. "And greenrider. You'd know a lot." Not thinking, he drops his head back as soon as the pebbles are gone, but he fails to consider that they're still on a hard rock and so he fails to check the speed of his head. It knocks the stone with a loud sound, probably painful, but all he gives it is an irritated breath hissed through his teeth.

Issa winces slightly, muscles tensing, whenever his hand sweeps over certain spots-- her shoulder blades, low on her back-- that have been rubbed too raw, but she endures it without a sound. "You have no..." she begins to say, but the crack of his head against the stone interrupts that train of thought. If he won't groan about the pain she'll do it for him, a short, sympathetic sound let out as she pushes her hands in to cup the injured area. "I know enough not to hit my head on the rock," she teases him before touching her nose gently to the tip of his.

Reyce squints his eyes down when she lifts his head, but it goes easily into her touch. Another puff greets the touch of her nose, washing hot air over her, but the gesture only lasts a beat when Reyce decides to stretch beneath her. He gets a quiet spine-crick out of it and tries to get another one, twisting his back far to one side, and when that fails he just pins himself out, arms stretched high above his head and feet tipped down to get a full stretch out of it. "This all you had for me?" wonders the one who had nothing at all planned for their anniversary. Despite the dangerous ground he's walking on, there's still a hint of smugness on his mouth and behind his heavily-lidded eyes. "Shirts and get to fuck you?" A hand abruptly returns from above his head, perhaps retaliating for earlier as it falls over her ass with as yet unmoving fingers stretched further down.

Issa lifts herself a bit to accomodate his stretching, elbows moved and the heels of her hands pressed down instead. She still hangs over him, though, loose hair curling down on either side of her face and draping low enough to tickle at his neck. She just stares down at him as he asks his questions, eyes blinking a shade thinner though her smile drops not an inch. Her hands pull up to his shoulders and she presses them down firmly, saying with a dry tease, "You're lucky you got that much." She pushes herself up even further from there, hands sliding back as she gradually props herself upright; she'll wind up sitting on his fingers if he doesn't move them. After a glance to mark where exactly those shirts ended up she turns her eyes on the green-speckled landscape around them, moving her hair over one shoulder as she blinks lazily into the afternoon sun that's just emerged again from behind a puffed cloud.

His arm reaches down the length of her back, and when she starts to lift that back, his arm goes up with it. Reyce just watches it, detached, then returns his now simplified (no longer smug) gaze to her face. Eventually, his arm tires of staying on her shoulder and he brings it back down to her stomach, tracing random lines around her belly with the rough tips of his fingers. "Am lucky," he murmurs. He traces her line of sight out to the sky, his eyes thinned against the brightness of the newly returned sun. A few beats pass while they both watch the horizon, and when he's done with that, he announces it by bringing his fingers together and giving them a light jab into her stomach. "Thanks," he says after she's turned to look, his eyes opened again and waiting to meet hers. "Letting me have you." His hand slips along her side, settling on the first rise of her hip.

Issa's wandering gaze has fallen to a single mountain top in the distance for several beats by the time he gives her that little jab, and it takes her the span of a few blinks to banish her unfocused stare and look down at him again. She grins at his thanks and bends over him again, hair dangling, to utter a, "You're welcome," that's just a bit playful. A soft kiss later, it's up she goes again, letting her hands run the same course over his chest again as she slowly straightens. "It was my gift too, you know," she adds with a lopsided lift to her smile.

Reyce hems at the back of his throat, dropping away from eye contact for a beat. When he returns, it's with his chin tucked down, his jawline bunching back with skin. "Meant in general." His free hand lifts, moving toward her with a helpless flick of fingers to encompass the whole abstract idea of her being. "Thanks for staying with me, and it's been turns." With a sigh, he straightens out his chin and gives his neck a rest. It's easier to speak that way, and his words come out less thick. "I love you. Lucky to have you. Thanks." His gaze is fixed on hers, calm and steady, while he speaks; brightened by the sun, every speck of green can be counted on the hazel fade of color in his eyes.

The slant to her smile slips away again and Issa changes tracks with a murmured, “Oh,” smile dimming as her whole expression falls into softer lines.  A slow-dawning smile creeps back as he speaks, though, wider than before and more candid.  When he’s done, she immediately cups his face with both of her hands and leans down once more to place a firm kiss on his lips.  “You don’t have to thank me for that,” she murmurs softly, her hand stroking down the side of his face as she breaks for a quicker kiss.  “I want to be with you.”  Another few seconds are tied up in a kiss then she hovers inches over him, staring into those hazel eyes from up close now.  “But you’re welcome,” she whispers after a short sigh, a little grin breaking for the repetition of her earlier response.

Reyce lifts into that kiss, bringing a hand up to the side of her face to scrape her hair back behind her ear and at the same time hold her still. When the kiss breaks, he lets his head drop back to the stone again, but the distance is shorter, the bonking sound softer, and he seems no more hurt by it than he was the first time. Still, he predicts a saucy comment, and watches her mouth for the first sign of movement; as soon as he has it, he rolls into her, putting her back in the uncomfortable position of being on bottom on this dusty, rough old rock. "Like it when you get me wrong," he comments, letting a soft breath of laughter out with his last word. "Maybe you’re not so smart." The smugness, it turns out, was only on its lunch break while he was telling her he loved her; now it's back in full force, with squinting eyes and a muffled, inward quirk of his lips.

Issa's sound of surprise leads into a little laugh as he turns her, which suffers a bump, a slightly pained grunt, when her back comes into contact with the stone again. She tries to shift under him after he's rolled on top, but that proves to be a worse idea than just lying there, so she settles again. "Must not be," she agrees with him easily, her arms winding around his neck as she attempts to lift her scraped shoulders. "I keep letting you fuck me in rough spots." The complaint comes with another hummed laugh, her face drawn right up next to his as she tightens her arms.

"Like that, too," Reyce answers, but his hands slip in under her shoulders when she lifts them. After dabbing gently with his palms, which is a difficult and not entirely successful effort to brush pebbles off of skin he cannot see, he settles in to cup her shoulder blades inside his hands and shield them from the stone. Anything else he scraped, however, is left to its own devices: he has only so many hands. "But I make it up to you," he murmurs, turning his face against her so his lips brush every word out on her cheek, and those touches are reminders of just how he makes it up to her.

The strength of Issa's smile presses her cheek up against those brushing lips and she murmurs into his ear, "Yeah. I think I rather like being not so smart." A breath of laughter puffs out then she relaxes her weight onto his helpful palms, nuzzling against his stubble as she goes. She looks up at him with a faintly flicking gaze as she unwraps her arms, fingers venturing up into his hair when they reach that far. "Turns, Reyce," she emphasizes the word from his earlier comment-- turns, plural-- as her fingers curl down into a light, playful tug that releases just as quickly. "Seems like it all went so fast."

Reyce turns his gaze on her when she brings back that plural with emphasis, but all he does about it is push his chin forward and press his lips to the side of her face. "Turns," he agrees, and the new positioning of his face makes that word sound all the more clearly on her skin. His mouth slips past afterwards, though, stubble roughing her cheek as his passes by, and he winds up with his nose nestled inside her curls, practically touching the ground. "Want to spend all of them with you." Because of the ground or the curls, those words get muffled by the time they reach her, and Reyce only gives her half a beat to figure them out till he twists his mouth in for a quick, compulsive kiss to the side of her neck and subsides again into silence.

Issa's hands have given up his hair, moving to settle in idle caresses over the muscles of his back instead, arms lying comfortably snug at his sides. When that muffled comment and the kiss hit her, their motions pause for a beat before they part ways; one remains motionless beneath his shoulder blade while the other slips up to find his cheek again, gently drawing him away from his nestling at the same time she ducks her face to the side to catch his eye. They end up mere inches from each other, her pale eyes skipping as they try to capture all of his hazel ones at once. "All of them?" she asks, and though the question is simply stated there's a tiny upward twitch at one corner of her mouth.

Reyce's head weighs heavy in the hand that tries to claim it, not resisting it, just not helping it. His eyes are open when they're lifted from her hair, though, and his gaze meets hers straight on and endures her scrutiny. The only hint that his calm exterior is being forced is a tiny wrinkle that's just visible above his nose. "All of them." He turns his cheek away from the hand that was supporting it, bringing his head up to support itself while he looks straight back at Issa.

He'll have another beat more to look straight back at Issa and may just catch the beginnings of a pleased smile before she yanks the distance between them closed, leaning up and meeting him with just as much force as she uses to tug his chin to her. Their lips lock and she shoves her tongue deep into his mouth, hand switching to the back of his head to keep him as close as possible. Her urgency slows to something softer as the kiss progresses but that doesn't make it any less involved, and she has to regain her breath with a quick sigh when they separate, her forehead tilted against his so the puff is blown away from him. "I do too," she utters along with a tiny, pleased chuckle, her eyes still watching his. "With you."

During that beat before the kiss, Reyce's heart beats so strongly that it can be felt, as a thin drumming, over her ribs. It only speeds up when she yanks him down to her, and his tongue vies with hers while her presses her mouth back with the force from his own. That fervor does not gentle, but dies, exhausted in that heady rush for her mouth; he hangs in there just to soak up the last kisses she has for him, then rest over her forehead. Closed for the kiss, his eyes haven't opened when she answers him verbally, and in fact she catches him inhaling to recover. The effort gets quickly reversed as he breathes her name, "Issa," and /then/ his eyes open, finding hers and staring back into them even though their closeness makes it hard to focus. "Issa," he says again, with more voice and more warmth to go with it.

Issa echoes that warmth, but her answer is just a hum as her mouth is already busy pressing smaller kisses randomly along his cheek. Her legs are lifted and wrapped snugly around his waist, a second hug to join the one her arms form above, hands falling flush between his shoulder blades. The kisses taper off and she spends another few beats just looking at him, smile beaming before relaxing back down. Though she teased him about it moments before, her head falls to the stone heavier than it should have, the bump not quite audible as his was but advertised by the grunt she gives because of it. Her hand flinches instinctively to reach for the injured spot, but she stops it, realizing the retribution before she goes through all the effort to disentangle her arm from him. After a knowing glance up at him, her eyes sink closed and she begins to laugh, slow chuckles growing into giggles, grin spread wide.

Initially, Reyce tries to return the little shows of affection, tilting his head so he can catch glancing kisses off her cheek whenever it nears to plant better kisses on his. After he's accidentally knocked her mouth away once or twice, trying to get his in for a turn, he gives the whole thing up as counterproductive and lets her lay out the affection single-handedly while he just holds still and bathes in it. When that crack of her head sounds, his lazily sinking eyes blink back wide open, finding her face quickly as his arm gives a fruitless tug to get away from the shoulders still pinning it. Her laughter only surprises him, his eyes blinking wider again, until memory sets in or her laughter infects him and he starts to puff low notes of laughter.

Belatedly, Issa’s hand does reach up from its spot on his back, slipping behind her head and rubbing briefly at the bumped spot, her laugh tapering off to make room for a short groan.  A few chuckles linger still, softer but no less amused, when she moves that hand to his face, her thumb tracing the faintly upturned corner of his lips then pressing back through his stubble.  “I love you,” she murmurs as the laughing dies out, switching her eyes from their path following her thumb to meet his hazel gaze.  This time, she makes him come to her, guiding his lips into a short kiss then tilting his face to touch their noses together, hers bumping gently against the side of his, her words little puffs of warm air.  “I do know that,” she stresses with utmost certainty, smile lifting higher as she tucks her arm back under his and replaces her hand next to its partner on his back.

Reyce nudges her cheek when she lets out that groan, his laughter dropping off immediately even though hers continues. He pulls back into the caress of her thumb, his lips so pliant that they part under her touch and she can shape the contours of his mouth. "Love you," he responds as soon as he has control back, after her thumb leaves and she's pulled him in for that kiss. Yet he lifts away from her close embrace, his hips twisting above hers as he retrives one of his hands and stretches sideways with it. Her pants are the first thing to come up, and after shaking out her underwear he brings them back, nudging his fingers under her head until he can lift it or she gets the idea. Pushing the pants underneath her as a temporary pillow, he puts his hand back under her raw shoulder and arches his body over her so he can reach the line of her neck with a kiss. "Better?" His eyes tip up to reach hers.

"Better," Issa answers, looking down to meet his gaze while one edge of her smile twists higher. Her head tilts back then, an action that both nestles her comfortably on that makeshift pillow and spreads her neck out under his attentions, which she enjoys in silence for a moment. Her eyelids sink but the occasional flutter of lashes shows that they haven't closed completely, gaze flitting over the cloud-dotted sky. "We'll get away from here," comes out suddenly, gentle though the murmur is. "Find somewhere for us." The last word gets all the weight; not her home, or his, really, but somehow /theirs/. Her hands, which drifted to the small of his back when he took up that arched position, sweep up his sides again, on an idle mission to find somewhere new to lay. "It'll be better."

Getting that confirmation, Reyce settles back down to kiss her neck a few more times, eventually just inching his body down so his cheek can rest on her breastbone. His breathing evens out while she watches the sky, but her words are greeted quickly enough by a twitch of movement as he tips his chin upwards, a token gesture that lets her know he's paying attention but doesn't really help him see her face. "It will," he answers, sighing over her chest. Her left shoulder will have to deal with the stone again when he brings his supporting hand up to her face, tracing lines he can't see. "Be us from now on. Stay together." But he shifts restlessly on top of her, turning his head back at a harsh angle so he can begin to see her eyes (over the rise of her chin and cheeks). "You're okay?" he wonders, enclosing her whole cheek inside his palm.

Issa lifts a hand from its wandering caress of his shoulders, covering over his covering hand. "I'm okay," she assures him, the press of her hand as reassuring as her calm tone. With one smooth motion, she slides her hand into his and brings them both to her mouth, a few more little kisses raining down onto the knuckle side of his fingers. Then she releases and sets her hand to stroking along the side of his curls instead. "I can't deal with them anymore," she states while twining her fingers in his hair, her vague pronoun still leaving no question as to who she speaks of. "Here, that wouldn't even be an option. It's good we're getting her out. Gets me out, too." Her chest beneath his ear trembles with a quick snort and then she mutters dryly, "Maybe it is just an excuse."

Reyce lets out another breath when her hand digs into his hair, pressing his cheek close against her so she can feel the itch of his eyelashes closing on her skin. She'll feel it again when she lets out that snort. "Don't care if it is," he answers, tightening his own hand where it's fallen to her shoulder again. He pulls himself up with it, abandoning her other shoulder to the stone as well as he takes that hand back and braces himself up on it. Stretched above her, he blocks the sunlight from her eyes and examines her features in the shade. "And it isn't," is his somewhat conflicted final judgment, delivered as his gaze flicks rapidly back and forth across hers. "It's about her then it comes first, not an excuse for anything when it's the first thing.

Issa stares up at his newly silhouetted form, blinking a few times to let her eyes adjust. "I know, I know, just..." Her head shakes back and forth a bit on the pants-made-pillow, then she draws up a stronger smile, finishing with, "It's fine." The hands that so recently traced down the back of him return again to trace down the front, pressing down his chest, fingers wrapping around to his sides when the heels of her hands find where his skin and hers meet. "You're right. The important thing's we get her out anyway."

"And us," Reyce points out. The pace of his skimming eyes eventually slows to a stop, and his sides lift under her hands as he heaves a soft sigh. "We're getting out," he murmurs, bending his face down towards hers and letting his eyes slip closed. The tip of his nose doesn't quite reach hers, but his breath goes almost straight into her nostrils. "Be something new."

Issa tilts her face up to his, not to touch her nose to his, but to brush it with her lips instead, a tiny point of a kiss falling at its tip. "It'll be a change," she murmurs in assent as she sinks back to her pillow, her shoulder twitching a bit uncomfortably on the bed of stone. A beat later her lips draw up into an amused little smile and she says, as if it were their primary concern right now, "I'll need to cut my hair again." The corner of a grin emerges, but then she shifts again, giving his side a nudge with her knuckles before she attempts to sit up whether he's moved or not.

Reyce shifts to one side, but he keeps an arm stretched over her so when she sits up, she moves straight back into his embrace. "Can't just braid it out of the way?" he wonders, stretching his arm down her torso and pulling her snugly against him. He nudges his face into her curls till he can reach her neck for a quick kiss. "Like when you braid it." Another kiss, and then he withdraws, giving her body a quick rub to combat the colder air she's now exposed to without his body pressed over her.

Though Issa shivers slightly when that first kiss lands, she doesn't seem particularly cold; she seems to generating her own heat, in fact, from the fan of redness spread over her shoulders, which she now leans into his chest. "So much effort," she comments, though it's tempered with a faintly playful tone that doesn't altogether dismiss the option. "Are you going to braid it for me?" she asks him teasingly, eyebrows lifted as she ducks a glance sideways to meet his eyes.

Reyce skims her shoulders when she turns them towards him and inches into his hold, but if he feels any guilt for having caused that redness, it doesn't show. His arm moves around from her back, curling instead over her stomach and pulling her warm shoulders into his chest. Soon, though, he lifts back, eyeing her hair and bringing up both hands to gather it into a mass. Splitting it into two parts, he winds them uselessly together, then pull the whole thing forward over her shoulder so she can see his work. "Asha gets old enough, can maybe teach her to do it," he says as he takes her back into his arms, rubbing her body up just for fun now.

Issa laughs lightly when he takes her up on her teasing offer, and again when he tosses the finished product up for her to see. She examines it for a beat while he pulls her back, unresistant, then leaves it as is, to gradually unwind or tangle in on itself as it will. "You're going to have to learn some of this stuff eventually, you know," she turns it back on him, as her head bumps against his shoulder again. "For her. She's going to want you to braid and tie pretty bows and things like that. And what if I'm not around?" Her tone is purely casual, her hypothetical question putting her merely in another room or flying sweeps, but there's another implication that's not a far jump, what with her rejoining the fighting wings.

Her quitting the weyrling wing to move out with him is a mixed bag; though quite ready to start this new phase of their lives, Reyce does not welcome the return of her Thread-flying. So far his policy is not to comment on it, though it's quite clear that it troubles him from time to time; right now, for example, he brings his other arm into play and tightens his hold, but his tone is perfectly normal. "'ll tell her she looks fine without them and should stop messing around."

Another laugh springs up for his answer, ringing approval even before she tilts her face in to tuck a quick kiss underneath his jaw. With, "Alright, fine," she releases him from the obligation of learning such girly things. For now. During a content beat of silence she lays her arm out on top of his, her hand falling over his without guiding or hindering, simply following along with whatever his intent may be. "Are you going to miss any of it?" she asks him, her head rolled in attentively after her subject-changing prompt though her eyes are still cast ahead over the view of the Reaches mountains they have now.

Finding her hand on top of his, Reyce pushes his fingers back till they find their way between hers, then close down once he has them. But, "No," he answers frankly. Planting his chin on top of her head, he looks over her at the same Reaches mountains that have captured her attention. "Not from here." Already his chin falls away from her, his eyes turning inwards as he finds his way back to her neck for a few simple kisses. "One thing though," he says, transitioning his way up to a softer, sucking kiss. "Going to have to start all over again." He moves their linked hands lower, using her knuckles to run a caress down to her hip.

"Mmm," is Issa's response to his negation, a mostly neutral sound that's shaded with only a hint of disappointment. But that hum is followed immediately by another, lighter and genuinely pleased when he sets his lips to her neck again; encouraging, she stretches her chin up a little more, her voice vibrating along the tightened skin of her throat. "You can piss off a whole new set of people," she says, teasing him with a tone that suggests he should be thrilled by this opportunity while her fingers squeeze together over his. "And we'll have a whole new Weyr to explore," she adds with more optimism than teasing, expecting to discover more gems like the rock they sit on now.

Reyce stretches out his fingers, slowly slipping his hand away from under hers while making sure that hers stay in place. A little push from his now freed fingers tells her to leave her hand there while his wanders, dragging straight up her stomach with a tickling touch. "Meant more than that," he answers, the slow, small curve of his smile still touching her neck. "Fuck you," he murmurs, "all over again. The places you go to, so you walk down the halls and remember when we fucked there." His hand slips back down her body, finding hers where he left it and pressing down over it.

Issa's hand is idly cooperative, staying put not out of any sense of obedience really, but just because she's far more focused on their conversation and the feel of his kisses and caresses on her skin. "Well, that's going to take a while," she answers him after a short rumble of laughter. "Benden Weyr has a lot of hallways, I don't even know where they all are. And I can be so forgetful sometimes," she adds, her voice growing more and more teasing as she continues, "I may need a bit of repetition sometimes. Sounds like hard work." Her fingers twitch playfully under his, but her smile is only hinted at with her words.

Reyce closes up those playfully twitching fingers, trapping them inside his warm, dry palm. "We'll have a while," he points out, pulling her hand with him as he repositions his arm between her breasts, stretching up her torso so he can control how close she's leaned against him just by pulling in his arm. "And don't mind the work." He returns to her neck, nibbling around a bit before he latches on to see if her humming delight in them will be enough to distract her from the hickey he's working up.

It is. Or maybe Issa doesn't care that she's in for a very visible bruise, for now that he's fully in control of her lean she lifts her bracing hand away from the stone and, without even brushing the dust from it, flattens it over his curls. "You have more immediate things to worry about," she advises him while he works away at her neck, voice still low, humming and teasingly serious. "Like fetching me every pillow we own, when we get back to the weyr. Finding me some salve for my shoulders." A short laugh ripples under his lips.

While she speaks, she'll be less likely to notice the soft sucking sounds as Reyce pulls his lips in closer to her skin. It would be harder to miss the hand that squeezes her breast, though, massaging it while he gradually leans back. When she finishes speaking, he pulls away from his kissing and shifts his body out of the way, catching her back before she can fall through the space he just emptied. "That it?" he wonders, squinting amusedly down at her while he continues his subtle campaign to lower her back to the ground.

"Oh, no," Issa assures him quickly, bringing that amused squint closer to her with both hands dug deep into the back of his hair, keeping herself elevated even as he tries to lower her. "That's just to start with," she informs him with an air of gravity that's easy to see straight through thanks to her playful little grin. "You'll be doing many," and in the break between words she hooks a leg over his hip and, with hair-bound hands tugging strongly, starts into a quick roll to put him on bottom instead, "many more things," she finishes with a whisper dropped down to an inch above his lips.