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Date Posted: 00:27:55 01/16/02 Wed
Author: Tristan
Subject: A quick retreat
In reply to: Saras 's message, "Still more introductions" on 18:39:58 01/15/02 Tue

Tristan watched Marz head back to one of the tents, almost crestfallen by the news that they were to sleep outside by the fire. What sort of lousy decision was that? Tristan had been looking anxiously forward to spending some time alone with him all day, and now he decided he wanted to hold a slumber party around the campfire! He shifted his glance back toward Sarosh, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Maybe Marz was so taken with the genie that all his desire Tristan had felt leaking through that kiss earlier had been suddenly snuffed out.

Of course, the more he stared at Saras, the more he was inclined to agree with him. Although he was clearly a man, at least by Tristan’s expert observations, trying to describe him as anything less than beautiful was simply impossible. His piercing, catlike eyes, small, upturned nose, and slightly pouting red lips all combined to create a very stunning expression. His long, luxuriantly red hair danced around his girlishly slim hips and waist, giving him an overall strikingly androgynous beauty that most men and women would probably find both subtly alluring as well as strangely disturbing.

Once he realized how long his own eyes had lingered on their newest companion, Tristan blushed, almost angrily, and forced his gaze elsewhere. It upset him that he should start to become so easily attracted by others lately. First he caught himself staring at Isobel’s ultra tight new bodice, and now he couldn’t keep his eyes off what was arguably one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever come into contact with!

Doesn’t matter, he told himself, in an attempt to lift his spirits, I’ve got Marz. Strangely enough, the thought worked perfectly, and he realized he didn’t really want these other people—not like that anyway. Naturally, his increased reactions to them were a result of…well…of everything Marz had been teaching him at night. Not always at night, too, because there had been that one morning a couple days ago when they’d…

He snapped out of the dangerous little memory just in time to hear the punk Jeremy compliment the genie on his hair and offer him some food and cigarettes. Tristan thought he could do with one of the latter himself, maybe to get his mind off its current track of late, especially since someone was of a mind to sleep under the stars, tonight, out in the open, in front of everyone.

Saras was in the process of gifting his newest friend with a silly little bauble of beads from his own hair (Tristan thought it quite ludicrous, by the way, to ever pay so much attention to your hair as to string little beads into it!), when he was abruptly interrupted by Barry, who made the same mistake that everybody seemed to be make upon first meeting him. Oddly enough, however, the genie seemed to actually be offended by the skull’s calling him a “guy.” (Tristan very nearly cracked a smile when he called him a “little disembodied skull-thing," too, but he stopped it just in time.)

“I am simply,” Saras corrected, sticking his nose in the air somewhat, “Perfect!”

Tristan’s jaw literally dropped a bit. Pretty little bastard sure had some nerve, didn’t he? There was an old dragon proverb, Perfection is Power, which all of his kind had stuck to as diligently as possible back home. It was one of the main reasons why they never could accept a misfit creation like Tristan, whose inherently flawed parentage marked him as an automatic outcast. If he had not been considered anywhere near the candidacy for perfection, then certainly this little trollop of a genie couldn’t possibly be!

“Perfect?” he growled, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at Saras, “You’re the walking embodiment of confusion, you little nitwit! You’re right: you aren’t a guy—and neither or you a girl, at least as far as my eyes can tell. I don’t think an even mix-up of the two qualifies for perfection!”

Immediately, he felt a warmth flush his cheeks, and he realized his own harsh words had actually embarrassed him. He didn’t really mean to insult the genie, even if Marz did find him attractive. And since when did he find the nerve to just spout out at someone like that, particularly somebody he’d never met before? Being around mortals must be making me go crazy! he thought, his eyes widening somewhat. The thought that maybe he was starting to get a little backbone in place of his usual initial shyness didn’t even enter his head, since he’d never considered himself remotely shy in the first place. More like reserved. Conservative. Thoughtful. A prude! he imagined Marz yelling at him, with Corum laughing like crazy in the background. He shook his head, clearing the image from his head.

Where was Marz, anyway? Tristan was about to turn away and chase after him, just out of curiosity and habit, but that nagging sense of guilt was still hanging about his shoulders.

“Sorry,” he finally managed to say, looking exceedingly uncomfortable. “I didn’t really mean it like that. But you can’t really go around calling yourself perfect and not expect people to think you’re mentally insane.” Especially looking like that, he almost added, but he managed to bite his tongue in time.

That said, he finally did turn and walk off, veering in the direction of the tent Marz had disappeared into to. He thought he heard someone calling out for the healer, but wasn’t sure. It wasn’t any of his concern anyway, and if it were serious, they’d all soon find out about it, anyway. As he neared the tent, he once again was reminded of the kiss he’d shared with Marz earlier, right before Corum had barged in, and he found his footsteps quickening almost against his own will. What are you doing? he asked himself, feeling a little alarmed by where his thoughts were starting to turn.

Instead of answering himself, he simply ducked into the tent flap and stared down at Marz, who was sitting on the floor folding some clothes. Now, if this were anybody else, it would seem a bit odd, but as this was Marz, Tristan thought nothing of it. Marz liked folding things. Sometimes he even unfolded things that were already folded and began to refold them. It was all rather weird, although a bit amusing, as well.

“I don’t want to sleep outside,” he said abruptly, walking closer and kneeling down beside him. “Why can’t we just stay here for a few hours?” Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and pushed his lips against his lover’s, giving him a rather rough, passionate kiss. He pushed him down against the pillows, feeling almost giddy as he crawled over him and stared down into his face. For some reason, Marz looked a bit upset about something, but Tristan couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Please?” he begged, bending down and meeting his lips again, more gently this time. His hands started to move on their own, tugging ever so slightly on Marz’s clothing as he continued to kiss him. He wasn’t even sure if he would take no for an answer. At this point, he was feeling more dragon than human, and hoped for both their sakes that Marz didn’t decide to push him aside. If the idiot even thought about complaining about having eaten something bad earlier, Tristan was just going to haul off and bite him.

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