How It Feels to Give In (PG-17)

Writers: Devin, Estelle
Date Posted: 3rd June 2025
Series: Guarding Gil

Characters: Tr'vel, Gilbek
Description: Panitath’s Flight gives Tr’vel and Gil the push they need.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 4, day 25 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Panitath
PG-17 version
Rating: PG-17

Tr'vel

Working out by the herdbeast pens meant that you had to get used to the sight of dragons hunting. There were usually one or two circling overhead, ready to dive down and snatch up their prey with a flash of sharp talons and a squeal, sharply cut off, before they took off for the cliffs to feed. Gil had seen worse - wild felines were far messier eaters than dragons - and so at first, he hardly looked up when he heard a distant roar and glimpsed a gleaming golden shape descending on the pens.

Suddenly the queen landed only a few dragonlengths from where he was filling the water trough, growling and tearing at the dead beast, crimson gouts of blood staining her jaws. Her huge wedge-shaped head swept around, and Gil dropped his pail and backed away from the fence, his heart pounding in his chest. Her eyes were glowing as red as the Star, and as he watched, first one bronze descended, then another. Out of nowhere, a wave of unfamiliar emotions swept over him. Hunger, defiance, restlessness, desire, the urge to _fly_...

**She's rising.** All the stories, told in whispers in the holds about the mating flight of the queen, came rushing back. Gil stumbled back towards the stables, trying to focus, to keep control of himself. He hadn't known it would be like this!

The stablehands didn't seem alarmed, though there were a few more shared grins than usual and work seemed to have stopped as they identified the bronzes and placed bets. Gil steadied himself against the wall and breathed deeply. **Calm.** Perhaps it was just the shock, seeing Panitath so close - but he still felt the heat glowing inside him, his skin damp with sweat and his body tense, ready for the chase.

A Senior Queen Rising wasn't quite like anything else. Tr'vel felt it first through Eboroth, although the blue had no interest in chasing, of course. His attention was on what it meant for the Weyr, determining if Loseth and his rider would still lead, or if another bronze would catch Panitath. The lust came from the gold herself, a hum of desire pulsing through the whole Weyr.

}:Ah, him again,:{ Eboroth said with amusement as he picked up on his rider's thoughts.

Tr'vel gave him the mental equivalent of a glare. The man was probably at work right now . . . down near the feeding pen, right next to the dragons preparing for the mating Flight.

**Take me down.** Tr'vel was already striding toward the ledge.

It was a short glide down and Eboroth stayed well away from the rutting bronzes. Tr'vel spotted Gil just before they landed, staring at Panitath as she sucked blood from another kill. Taking a deep, calming breath, Tr'vel slipped down from his dragon's neck. Tension vibrated through him as he approached the other man. "So," he said in a low voice. "Now you know what it feels like."

Gil turned, eyes widening as he recognized the bluerider and new emotions flooded through him. Surprise, relief that he was here, anticipation... There was a note in Tr'vel's voice that only caused the heat within him, stirred by the gold dragon's cries, to burn higher.

"It's so strong. I didn't expect..." He swallowed, trying to keep his voice steady, not to react like a witless holder. "Is this what it's like for you, when Eboroth chases?"

Tr'vel chuckled. "It's stronger then. This is easier to ignore." Yet it still took considerable effort not to touch Gil. "Would you like to know how it feels to give in?"

Gil's breath caught and a flush rose to his cheeks, but he didn't turn away. Instead, he held his gaze and took a step, closing the space between them. He could sense the heat of Tr'vel's body and breathed in the faint spicy scent of dragon's hide, oil and leathers.

"Yes." Then he smiled, the familiar, natural smile that showed that while the golden queen's mating urge might have lowered his inhibitions, this was entirely his choice. "If you think you can catch me."

Tr'vel laughed, low and pleased. How long would it have taken them to get to this point without a nudge from a Rising Queen? "I know how to catch a man when I want him." Tr'vel reached out to grip his arm, firm enough to let Gil know he was serious. Heat pulsed through him, growing hotter with every breath. "Come to my weyr."

Gil half-remembered that he was supposed to be working, but it seemed that Panitath had put an end to that for the moment. One of the crafters grinned and waved him off. As he turned to go with Tr'vel, a roar echoed from the cliffs and the gold leapt into the air, closely followed by her bronzes and a few hopeful browns, dozens of powerful wingbeats sending gusts of air swirling across the Bowl.

A sense of exuberance, of pleasure in his own vitality and strength overcame him. He could fly forever! He tugged on the bluerider's arm, impatient to get to the dragon who watched them intently. "Take me there."

"I didn't put his straps on. You'll have to hold tight to me." Tr'vel hopped up to Eboroth's neck and turned to offer his hand. He tried to keep his wits about him, but it was hard with the Flight going on right above them and Gil being so close. Knowing that Gil _wanted_ him . . .

Gil reached up and grasped his hand, hardly noticing the pull of his scars as he scrambled up. He'd never flown on a dragon before without being securely strapped in and as Eboroth rose from his crouch he wrapped his arms around Tr'vel and clung on, his thighs gripping the blue's neck and his body pressed against the dragonrider's broad back. "Don't drop me. I would _hate_ to die right now."

Tr'vel laughed as Eboroth leapt, the dragon even more careful than usual to take off smoothly. The trip was brief, though it probably felt longer to Gil. Soon they were touching down on Eboroth's ledge. Tr'vel put a hand over Gil's arms and shifted very deliberately against him. "Well, no denying you're interested."

He leaned forward, his chin resting on Tr'vel's shoulder, his voice breathless and amused. "What gave me away?" Some distant part of him knew he should feel embarrassed, but it hardly registered amid the waves of the queen's lust and the dizzying fear and exhilaration of the short flight, knowing that there was nothing to stop him falling if he let go - and the electric thrill that ran through him at the feel of Tr'vel's fingers brushing the skin of his arm, their cheeks touching.

The bluerider leaned into the touch for a moment before letting go and sliding down to the ledge. He helped Gil off Eboroth's neck and barely made sure the man had his feet under him before he backed Gil against his dragon's side and kissed him.

Gil closed his eyes, his lips parting as his arms slipped around Tr'vel as naturally as if they'd done this many times before. His fingers pressed into the muscles of the dragonrider's shoulders, steadying him. Time stretched out. At his back he felt Eboroth's sun-warmed hide, rising and falling as the dragon breathed. Distantly, he sensed the queen soaring into the clear bright sky, but the temptation to tease and evade pursuit was fading, replaced by the deeper, insistent desire for a mate.

He caught his breath between kisses, his eyes flicking open. "Tr'vel?" Any sense of shame seemed to be beyond him now, but a measure of shyness remained. "I've never done anything like this before. Not with another man."

Tr'vel had suspected as much and had been about to ask. "I'll be gentle." He softly nipped at Gil's lower lip. "At least at first." His eyes were full of wicked promise as he took Gil's hand and led him inside.

"But I've thought about it." Gil felt his heart beat rapidly as they pushed aside the curtain that led to the rider's sleeping area and turned to face each other. There was something irresistible about the urge to confess, now he'd begun. "That day, after Eboroth chased the green - I knew you were only joking, but some nights, I imagined what it would be like. If I'd invited you in. What I'd have done for you..."

Tr'vel swallowed heavily. "Oh Faranth." He pulled Gil close, needing to feel the man against him. "That day was just lust, but I . . . I had inappropriate thoughts about you when I got to my weyr." The images flashed through his mind, heating his blood even more. "And ever since."

He looked up with a sly grin as his hands slid around Tr'vel's waist, exploring the contours of his body. "I'd love to know what a dragonrider considers inappropriate. I didn't think there was any such thing in the Weyr."

The bluerider let out a low chuckle. "Inappropriate because it was you. You were a prisoner. I was your _guard_." He bent to kiss along Gil's neck. "But now that we're friends . . ." One hand slid under Gil's shirt, fingers gently sliding along the very edge of his back.

Gil tilted his head back with a sigh, exposing his throat to Tr'vel's mouth. The light touch on his side, thought, caused him to tense suddenly. Between the queen's lust and his own desire, he'd forgotten the scars that furrowed his back with the ugly brand of disobedience. Could anyone, even a dragonrider used to Threadscore, bear to touch him?

Tr'vel's fingers moved a bit further. This wasn't a fantasy in his head and he needed to be careful. "Can I touch your back? Or is that too much?"

"It's not that. My back - it's..." Hideous, he thought, though he couldn't bear to say it. Ruined. The shame threatened to overwhelm him once more. "I thought, if you don't touch the scars, or look, then we could pretend they aren't there."

"Told you, they don't bother me." He brushed a finger along the edge of one scar, the barest whisper of a touch. "They mean you suffered, but survived. They mean you're a good man, who refused to murder a woman and child."

"You really don't mind?" Gil shivered at the sensation, a light thrill of pleasure even through the scar tissue. It had been a long time since his back had given him anything but pain or numbness. "It's one thing to know what they mean, and another to feel them, but if you're sure..." Quickly, as if wanting to know the worst, he pulled his shirt over his head, wincing a little at the stiffness in his shoulders. Holding it in his hands, he looked up, half-fearing that Tr'vel would turn away, if not in disgust then in pity.

Tr'vel stepped around behind Gil, then bent to press his lips to one of the scars near his shoulder. Gil was being so vulnerable and honest with him, so Tr'vel wanted to return the favor. "This was part of my fantasy, giving you tenderness where others gave you pain."

This time, Gil didn't flinch at the touch. He half-closed his eyes and let out his breath in a soft sigh, the tension in his back easing. As exposed as he was, he felt safer than he had in a very long time. "You're a rare person, Tr'vel. Even in a fantasy, to want to ease another's pain..." He turned to look over his shoulder, and smiled. "Will you show me the rest?"

A blush heated Tr'vel's cheeks, but the heat also went all the way through him. "Maybe a gentler version for your first time." He kissed Gil's mouth and then brushed his lips gently over another scar. Soft touches where a whip had torn Gil's flesh open. A dragonlust-fueled fantasy mingling with reality. "Faranth, I want you." The bluerider stripped off his own shirt and then reached for Gil's trousers.

Gil's fingers tangled with his as he helped to undo his belt, his breath coming rapidly now as the distant final echoes of the dragons' mating passion resonated through his body. He wriggled out of his trousers and kicked away his boots, then his undergarment, shivering in pleasure at the sensation of cool air on his bare, heated skin. Then he leaned back against the warmth of Tr'vel's body, pressing against him, moving by instinct.

"I want this, with you." he murmured. "I'm ready."

Tr'vel spent a moment kissing Gil's neck, holding the man against his naked body so Gil could feel how ready, how eager he was. "Lay down on your stomach." There was a slight tremble in his voice, a need barely leashed. Tr'vel went to get the oil from his nightstand.

When he turned back, Gil was lying on the bed, leaning on his elbows with his head half-turned to watch Tr'vel. His eyes widened and he drew in a quick, admiring breath. He'd seen the dragonrider shirtless before, had felt the solid strength of his limbs and body as they'd grappled, but now... A frisson of anticipation ran over his skin. He felt nervous, a little exposed, but it was coupled with an intense urge to feel Tr'vel against him again, over him and within him. He shifted on the bed, in a wordless invitation.

The bluerider joined him, lying on his side and kissing Gil even as he spread oil on his fingers. Gil deserved patience and gentleness for his first time with a man.

~*~Fade to Black~*~

When sense began to return to him, Tr’vel looked down and heat rose in his cheeks. "Sorry, I . . . I should have asked before I . . ."

Gil sat back on his heels, flushed and still recovering his breath. He reached a hand around to touch his back, then looked at his fingertips - and then he turned his head to Tr'vel and smiled.

"It's all right. Now, when I feel the scars...I'll think of you." He spoke light-heartedly, but there was a deeper sense of gratitude in his words.

Tr'vel blushed harder and then pulled Gil into a kiss, heedless of the mess between them. "You were amazing."

He sighed, contentedly, and leaned against the bluerider, resting his head on his shoulder. "Not bad for a beginner?"

"Not at all." Tr'vel shifted to guide them both onto their sides, one arm wrapped around Gil. "We'll never hear the end of this from Lightning," he murmured. "Uh, that is, unless you don't want them to know . . .?"

"I don't think I could hide it even if I wanted to." Gil moved to snuggle closer to Tr'vel, enjoying the warmth of the contact between them. "I feel like I'm glowing, like the queen."

"Feel pretty good myself," Tr'vel said with a smile. He'd been a little worried Gil would react badly after sex, holder morals causing him to panic. The man's obvious contentment was enough to make Tr'vel feel a little smug. "I'd like to . . . what do you holders call it? Courting? I want to court you, Gil."

Gil's chest vibrated with a soft laugh. "Usually in the holds, the courting comes _before_ the bedding, but...I'd like that." He turned his head to look up at Tr'vel. "I'd like to spend more time with you."

"I'm glad we feel the same." A soft, warm sensation filled his chest. Tr'vel hadn't felt like this about someone in a while. Not since Jesswyn. The thought brought a pang of grief, but there was happiness, too. He'd missed this feeling.

"I am, too." Mischief sparked in his brown eyes. "Besides, I want to know what else happens in that fantasy of yours."

Tr'vel cleared his throat. "I uh . . . pretty much lived it just now. We started a bit gentler, but . . . now you know what I imagined when I brought myself off after Eboroth lost that flight." He'd burned with embarrassment and a lingering hint of anger, but that had only driven his lust higher.

"Then...you could start imagining new ones?" Gil raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Or we can try mine."

"Let's do yours next time." Tr'vel started kissing his way up Gil's neck. "I want to know what you thought about doing with me, lying awake at night." Anticipation shivered through him.

"Mmm." He sighed in lazy pleasure at the soft touch of lips on his skin, but it didn't stop him teasing. "You'll have to...court me....to find out."

Last updated on the June 10th 2025

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How It Feels to Give In (PG-17)