Fic: Not Easy Being Green
Title: Not Easy Being Green
Author: miss_m_cricket
Fandom: Dragonriders of Pern
Rating: Teen
Pairings: G'rin (OC) / Unknown rider
Warning: Hints of Abuse. Nothing too graphic but...still.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything at all...
Summary: In the ten years since he had Impressed Camhoth, G’rin had discovered there were three different kinds of greenflight aftermaths...
A/N: Christmas drabble for duskdog717. MERRY CHRISTMAS TWIN!
A/N: Circumstances for this are taken from DarkFort a RP based of the Dragonriders of Pern. Think sexism, homophobia, abuse...it's a dark place. G'rin is one of my characters from there.
Not Easy Being Green
In the ten years since he had Impressed Camhoth, G’rin had discovered there were three different kinds of greenflight aftermaths.
One the other rider would race out of the room first chance he, or she ergh, got, horrified at either having slept with another man, or slept with this particular man, or just wanting to get out of there, perhaps back to a beloved Weyrmate.
Two the other rider would proceed to beat the stuffing out of him when, or even before he woke. Perhaps they hated boy lovers; perhaps they were angry at having contaminated themselves by touching him. Or perhaps they were frightened, frightened of what would happen if they left the Flight room and he told people they had enjoyed their flight.
And three, the other rider would stick around for round two or three. This was a subtle rebellion, a need to show their preference without drawing undue attention to it. Three was rare, and when it happened it was mostly blueriders. And it was never because they actually cared for him.
Some asked him if he had ever considered flying South.
He had, he had considered it many times. Wondering if he was a fool for staying at the harsh edges of Fort. But he also believed that Fort needed him. At the very least he made the other greenriders look like chaste maidens of virtuous chastity.
The thought made him smile.
No. He needed to stay, needed to shove the fact that men like him, men who rode green, who craved another man’s touch were not abominations, not freaks and certainly not unfit leaders or followers, down the Traditionalists throats.
Fort had softened a little. But it was still the Traditional Weyr.
So when G’rin woke up, feeling pleasantly warm from Camhoth’s latest escapade in Flight, he was surprised to feel a large strong arm wrapped around his waist.
He was tucked against a broad chest, spooned by someone who was holding him with the possessive echo of his dragon curled around Camhoth. At first he thought that the other just hadn’t woken up yet, but then...
“G’morning...” The rider murmured in his ear, fingers lightly stroking over the slighter man’s belly, “Sleep well?”
“Yes...” G’rin was bemused, where was the shouting? The fists? The sharding condemnation? He was used to that, not pillow talk. “Um...did you?”
“Mmmmhmm...” The man tucked G’rin closer against him, “You don’t have anywhere to be do you?”
“No...” G’rin’s eyebrow lifted but he relaxed against the man’s chest, “I don’t.”
“Excellent. Been waiting for this a long time, and I’m planning on enjoying it.”
The greenrider’s eyes widened but he didn’t pull away as the other’s breath evened out into the soft rhythm of sleep. His mind was questioning, shrilling inquiries, but his body told them to shush and slowly he too drifted back off to sleep.
It wasn’t easy being a green’s rider.
But it was never boring either.
Author: miss_m_cricket
Fandom: Dragonriders of Pern
Rating: Teen
Pairings: G'rin (OC) / Unknown rider
Warning: Hints of Abuse. Nothing too graphic but...still.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything at all...
Summary: In the ten years since he had Impressed Camhoth, G’rin had discovered there were three different kinds of greenflight aftermaths...
A/N: Christmas drabble for duskdog717. MERRY CHRISTMAS TWIN!
A/N: Circumstances for this are taken from DarkFort a RP based of the Dragonriders of Pern. Think sexism, homophobia, abuse...it's a dark place. G'rin is one of my characters from there.
Not Easy Being Green
In the ten years since he had Impressed Camhoth, G’rin had discovered there were three different kinds of greenflight aftermaths.
One the other rider would race out of the room first chance he, or she ergh, got, horrified at either having slept with another man, or slept with this particular man, or just wanting to get out of there, perhaps back to a beloved Weyrmate.
Two the other rider would proceed to beat the stuffing out of him when, or even before he woke. Perhaps they hated boy lovers; perhaps they were angry at having contaminated themselves by touching him. Or perhaps they were frightened, frightened of what would happen if they left the Flight room and he told people they had enjoyed their flight.
And three, the other rider would stick around for round two or three. This was a subtle rebellion, a need to show their preference without drawing undue attention to it. Three was rare, and when it happened it was mostly blueriders. And it was never because they actually cared for him.
Some asked him if he had ever considered flying South.
He had, he had considered it many times. Wondering if he was a fool for staying at the harsh edges of Fort. But he also believed that Fort needed him. At the very least he made the other greenriders look like chaste maidens of virtuous chastity.
The thought made him smile.
No. He needed to stay, needed to shove the fact that men like him, men who rode green, who craved another man’s touch were not abominations, not freaks and certainly not unfit leaders or followers, down the Traditionalists throats.
Fort had softened a little. But it was still the Traditional Weyr.
So when G’rin woke up, feeling pleasantly warm from Camhoth’s latest escapade in Flight, he was surprised to feel a large strong arm wrapped around his waist.
He was tucked against a broad chest, spooned by someone who was holding him with the possessive echo of his dragon curled around Camhoth. At first he thought that the other just hadn’t woken up yet, but then...
“G’morning...” The rider murmured in his ear, fingers lightly stroking over the slighter man’s belly, “Sleep well?”
“Yes...” G’rin was bemused, where was the shouting? The fists? The sharding condemnation? He was used to that, not pillow talk. “Um...did you?”
“Mmmmhmm...” The man tucked G’rin closer against him, “You don’t have anywhere to be do you?”
“No...” G’rin’s eyebrow lifted but he relaxed against the man’s chest, “I don’t.”
“Excellent. Been waiting for this a long time, and I’m planning on enjoying it.”
The greenrider’s eyes widened but he didn’t pull away as the other’s breath evened out into the soft rhythm of sleep. His mind was questioning, shrilling inquiries, but his body told them to shush and slowly he too drifted back off to sleep.
It wasn’t easy being a green’s rider.
But it was never boring either.