One Turn Later...
Who Carellos Reksler
What Carellos and Reksler celebrate their anniversary
When One turn later!
Where Shenanigan's Lounge, Fort Weyr

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Fort Weyr - Shenanigan's Lounge
The natural walls of this cavern haven been completely covered and replaced by straight and sometimes curving walls of brickwork. There's method to the madness of covering stone with stone. It's as simple as the electric buzz in the room. New grade electric lights dot the fancy brick worked walls, with wires cleverly hidden behind, allowing more focus to be centered on the rest of the room rather than the numerous strings of wire needed to operate the lighting. Each bulb roosts in a bronzed metal flowering fixture, giving the room a rich atmosphere. Still, the walls are not the only place which has stone on stone appeal. The floor has been run smooth, the surface now slate rock, creating an imperial cast.
Beyond the actual foundations of the lounge, the luxury continues. High backed wooden chairs with padded white seats have been stationed all around the room. Between the individual chairs are benches fashioned out of the same rich wood with pillows made to flatter the cushions. There are low lying coffee tables or end tables near the individual chairs, while there's larger dinning room sized tables with chairs to match scattered as well, giving much variety to those who find themselves in the room. Decorative hangings and framed artwork has been neatly hung around the room, but to offset the meticulous method of the room, there's some pieces that give a sporty feeling to the room - such as a fishing rod or a snow shoe.
Of course, the final appeal of the room comes in the form of it's purpose; athletic competition. There are several games of darts lining the walls, various decks of dragon poker cards available, a large velvet lined pool table centered to one side of the lounge, a mat area surrounded by ropes, and an area that keeps track of all the runner races around the world via radio signal, giving constant updates on the status of the runners. Lastly, there's a bar here, small and built with brick as well. There's usually a bartender on duty willing to mix drinks during the evening hours.


It happens only once in a great, great, great, great, great while but the time has finally come. Carellos has a day off from the kitchens. One would think that Reksler would let the poor man stay at home and just relax, but no, of course not. Instead, he's making the weary baker apprentice meet him for a dinner date. That's right, dinner, together, in public. Not that they haven't shared meals in the living cavern, they have, but this was different. Or, rather, at least it is in the harper's mind. He did admittedly let Carellos sleep in, though this might be more attributed to the fact that Reksler did not have a day off himself and had to attend to his duties as usual. He did managed to get off an hour early so he could drop by the bathing cavern to freshen up without disturbing whatever downtime the man might have been enjoying in his absence, arriving just around the time that the menu at Shenanigan's changes over to evening fare. Having arrived well in advance, Reks chooses to sit in the very corner table at which the pair had met over a turn ago, dropping into a seat and setting his book upon the worn wooden surface. Yes, he has a book, he's Reksler. He isn't wearing anything special, and for all intents and purposes it appears he came with the intention of just warming a chair in that gloomy corner because when a server arrives to take his order he simply lifts his eyes from the pages open before him and frowns at her with a furrowed brow. Deflecting this distraction, Reks goes back to quietly reading and waiting.

At the very least, the weary baker was able to wash up and make himself presentable before roaming out of the room and into the general public. Before? Probably not a good idea… Finally having made his way into the establishment, Carellos isn't quick to shed is jacket, instead he moves to the table first to take a set across from Reksler. The baker leans back in his seat, raising his arms over his head as he lets out a very long and lazy yawn and groan before settling. "I hope I'm not too late," he murmurs, deflating into his seat. He reaches up and begins to remove the fastenings of his new jacket, then twists in his seat to drape it over the back of his chair. It's nothing amazing, just a plain and nondescript jacket to replace the worn and battered one he'd been sporting for turns. His seniors were glad to see the mess go.

Even with Carellos' arrival, Reksler continues to read, only glancing the baker's way when he speaks to him, but doesn't answer right away. Blue eyes drop back down to the book held upwards and open before his face, scanning each word without hurry. This gives the other man the chance to take off his new jacket and hang it, before the book is marked with a plain leather rectangle set between the pages, closed, and set aside. "You're not," comes a rather dismissive reply at last, even if some time had passed since Carellos had spoken, indicating that Reks had in fact been listening. Sometimes, you just have to finish the chapter, or whatever it was that he was reading to pass the time. The same server that had been chased off is then flagged down, but the woman seems to be purposely taking her time in getting over there with some menus. Not that Reksler seems to care, returning his attention to ridiculously attractive guy. "Did you sleep?" he asks, ashen lashes lowering some as he interlaces his fingers together and rests his chin upon the fleshy weave. Server is still stalling, but at least she's heading their direction now.

"I did but it wasn't the same without you." Just when the server gets to the table, Carellos offers her a polite smile and a little generic wink. Sometimes that expedites the service, and he'll save the more trouble earning looks for Reksler. "I'm surprised they kept me out of the kitchens entirely for the last whole shift. They just had me going over records, paperwork, how to track schedules, assignments… They *cough* gave me my new orders." The tone of his voice on those last few words sounded a little… The baker clears his throat and glances nervously over to the server. "Um. My usual, please? The bartender already saw me, he'll know what."

Reksler snorts softly, "You wouldn't have slept if I was there," he states flatly, glancing the way of the server as she shows up at last, flushing furiously at the playful antics of the handsome baker. Reks rolls his eyes, ordering a cup of tea to start with so he could take the time to peruse the menu, probably unsure as to what he was in the mood for. The server lingers longer than she really should but an acidic scowl from the harper gets her moving in the right direction. Away, and back to the bar where she belonged as far as he was concerned. That done, Reksler returns his attention to Carellos, a single brow lifting in response to all that coughing over there. He hadn't seemed all that much interested in what he did for the kitchen, until new orders came up. "Oh?" As dismissive as he would have liked to have sounded just then, there is an undeniable note of concern and an edge of worry. Idly, he begins brush fingers over the spine of his nearby book, lashes lowering as he drops his eyes that direction. Tension was making the harper look somewhat stiff, before he inhales deep and exhales softly, returning his unyielding gaze expectantly.

"Yeah, and I will have say I'm rather pleased with the posting. It'll do great for my career advancement. I'll still be in the kitchens, but taking on a little bit more of a supervisory role. Same hours." Carellos leans back in his seat, resting his elbows on the table. At the very least, he made an effort to dress up just a little more flattering for their evening meal. "There was… alot of chaos in the kitchens, some yelling. Someone getting pulled out by the guards and escorted away. It's… It wasn't done in the way I would've hoped, given the situation, but I'll settle for it as it is. Maybe it was a better rumor for the mill until the investigation is over since I'm taking the guys place. Guess he was siphoning from the stores and finally got caught." Carellos begins tapping his fingers a little nervously on the table top and the edges of his mouth struggle with keeping a clear composure but the upwards curl at the corner might as well betray him.

As soon as Carellos informs him of his news, the tension and all other indications that Reksler cared vanish with a single blink of the eye. "You're an asshole," he growls at him, thumping back in his chair and scowling again as arms are crossed over his chest, ignoring the server as she returns with his tea and whatever was the baker's 'usual', once again lingering longer than polite. "You…" he begins, still glaring at Carellos for a few more seconds before sliding his attention to the woman openly staring at the nearly smirking bastard seated across from him. "…can go now." The woman actually is so infatuated that she seems unable to even comprehend words long enough to further dampen Reksler's fouling mood. The harper snaps his fingers up above his head around the general airspace of one of her ears which has her blinking a few times before turning her head towards him, but her eyes take longer to shift their point of view. "Sorry, yes. Are you ready to order?" Reksler just stares at her blankly, unable to wrap his mind around this situation for the moment, finally taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. He was literally counting to ten right then, eyes closing as the numbers steadily increase in volume and irritation. Oddly enough, the woman actually seems to take the hint, growing steadily uncomfortable by the counting harper and hurries away back to the bar. Reks doesn't stop counting until he actually reaches ten, opening his eyes to find that the server is once again, gone. Huffing to himself, cornflower blues slide back towards Carellos, leaning back against his chair and takes up his tea. "Does this mean you'll be more or less tired when you come home?" he finally asks, not seeming to care about how the promotion came about just what it meant.

Carellos peers over at Reksler, daring to look over his shoulder at the server that just freshly fled and he turns back around. Unphased. The Harper's temper isn't a mystery anymore. Victoria ain't got no more secrets. Once content that there's no one en-route to his table to further raise his mate's ire, the Baker leans in, licking his lips and taking a deep breath. There's no calculating thought, no debating on what words to speak. He just says them with the same gentle and loving tone Reksler has heard on occasion over the turns. "It just means that you're going to be reading that book in traction on a good day and I'll have plenty of them."

The server was hovering around the area of the bar when Carellos looks back, longing eyes peering back at him, but she appeared too taken a back by Reksler's antics to attempt another approach just yet. The moody harper sends a death glare over Carellos' shoulder at her anyway, getting one in return but then she hmphs off to attend to another table. Momentarily satisfied, Reks' attention darts back to the newly promoted journeyman baker, a single brow raising again as the other man leans in, eyes dropping fleetingly to those lips as they're licked before they return to those dark emeralds. Apparently going with 'playing it cool' Reks takes a very careful sip of his tea, waiting for whatever is coming to him, and luckily having swallowed that tiny amount of brewed liquid before Carellos had the opportunity to open his mouth. Once the message is received loud and clear, Reks nearly chokes anyway as he blinks once at him, a second later he's drawing in a sharp breath and very quickly relocating his gaze elsewhere, a flush darkening his once pale cheeks. Uneasily the harper shift in his seat, glancing back at Carellos quickly before simply looking away again, which does not facilitate the fading of his blush. Quite the opposite effect in fact, but at least the sourness had been tempered back to mere neutrality. So the harper sits, for quite some time, in uncomfortable silence. Just when one might think that was going to be the end of the evening, Reksler sets his subtly trembling steaming mug down onto the table, and leans over to place the softest of lingering chaste kisses upon Carellos' lips.

Poor Reksler, to see that look wash over his face is a rare occasion and in the chance it does happen… Carellos doesn't move back in his chair, not when he could watch those facial expressions all day and night long and that kiss is only the beginning of their evening. The kiss is lightly return, though for anything else Reks will have to wait. Not in public, there could be children watching and Faranth knows the little monsters escape and can be found anywhere. The Baker glances over his shoulder and frowns a little. It's possible his order just might not make it to the table and he missed breakfast and lunch already as it was, with sleep and not wanting to spoil their evening meal. "There's plenty of time for that later. Let's just… enjoy a nice quiet dinner together while we can. I'm just relieved they kept me here posting wise and I don't have to move."

If Carellos thought the harper's next move was to present himself right there in Shenanigan's especially with that bar wench lurking about, he had another things coming. Reksler withdraws, putting his whole hand over the baker's stupid handsome face and pushes him away but not roughly, "Don't get ahead of yourself," he grumbles, once again leaning back in his chair, and taking up his cup of tea. Reks hadn't ordered any food and it was looking like as long as lusty britches the mate ogler was their server, he just wasn't going to. Not that he was paying any attention to her, and she had seen that kiss and was now ignoring them both. Well, maybe she spared a peek or three, because who wouldn't? "Just shut up and eat." Grumpy is as grumpy does, and the harper did it so well.

Carellos is used to Reksler's unique public displays of affection (and abuse) so he simply sits back with that crooked grin on his face and he glances down at the food waiting for him. Nothing fancy, he glances at his hands to make sure the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up neatly and with fingertips begins to tear into the meat. Absentminded, he begins glancing around the room, making a neat little pile on his plate as high as he can. He even begins humming a little turn he heard turns back, tilting his head from side to side as he reaches up and licks the juices off his fingers while those emerald eyes begin to narrow in their search for the elusive napkin. There was one on the table, right? Maybe?

Crossing his legs at the knee, Reksler enjoys his tea as Carellos grins like an idiot (as always) and enjoys his meal. No comment is made about the baker's lack of utensil use because just as he was used to way Reks behaved, so was he with him. That did not mean that Care didn't know how to irritate him and he would rue the day that the blond figured out how often the man did it on purpose because he enjoyed every drop of poison spat his direction. He doesn't watch his mate's messy consumption of his evening meal though, letting half-lidded cornflower blue eyes wander over the rest of the bar's occupants if only to have them return to Carellos where he pauses then simply pulls a handkerchief out, sliding it silently over the baker's way. No there were no napkins, but there were magical pockets apparently. Reks then takes another sip of his tea, quietly watching and likely judging.

Aha! There it is, Reksler was hiding it like the cheeky little minx that he is. So adorable, and Carellos tilts his head affectionately towards the Harper as he cleans up his hands and fingers. This time, he uses the utensils, shoveling a little bit of that shredded meat into a slice of grilled vegetable, rolling it up into a bundle and popping the whole thing into his mouth. The Baker is looking very much like a hamster right now with his cheeks full and face content. At the very least, he covers his mouth up with his hand, being mindful to chew carefully before making any attempt to utter a word. Reksler has him trained that much.

Reksler did tell the baker to shut up and eat, but it is unlikely that he thought that the baker would take him so literally. One eyebrow twitches upwards for the affectionate head tilt, probably not understanding how one can tilt one's head affectionately, but the shoveling action soon raises both of those brows. The food packed cheeks though? From behind the safety of that mug of rapidly cooling tea, a sound arises so unfamiliar so alien that it could be that they've just been transported to another dimension. Not a scoff, not a snort, but the shortest softest genuine chuckle. Eyes might be rolled and tossed off somewhere to the side shortly there after though, but it probably still counts.

Hey, food tastes the best when you can taste all the flavors and the only way to do that would be to fill your cheeks to the brim. Those emerald eyes glance up in the Harper's direction, and as best as his cheeks allow, the Baker smiles just a little bit. Anything more than that, and he might miss a chance to hear the rare sound again. Carellos continues to make another little bundle of meat and vegetable, holding it in one hand as he takes a drink from his glass. "Love this stuff," he mutters with a crooked smile, finally filling his cheeks to the brim once more. He leans back, taking a deep breath while he chews and he sighs, blissfully, peering over to Reksler. Of course his mouth is covered. Manners and stuff.

Having every intention of letting Carellos eat himself into mind-numbed coma if that is what he most desired, Reskler concentrates on his tea and the patrons of the bar. While the food in the living cavern was free to consume for everyone, the fare available at Shenanigan's was not, but the menu was more varied and tickled the pallet of anyone wanting something a little different. The few patrons that had tucked themselves into booths here and there came mostly to drink though, and only because it was meal time was there relative quiet and privacy. Even if they were free to talk about anything they wished, Reks was silent and giving his mate space. The harper's blue eyes do track back to Carellos though when he speaks, the lower half of his face tucked behind his lifted mug. "I did notice," he replies, long legs still crossed at the knee and his left arm draped over his lap with the unoccupied hand hanging limply off to the side with fingertips pointed towards the floor, "What…is it?" Reksler sets his mug down to reveal neutrality instead of his usual frown, peering over at what remains on Care's plate.

"This is their signature roast, I just get a small portion along with grilled thinly sliced vegetables and roll it up like this. Tastes good together. Kinda boring if you eat them separately but together they have the right combination of seasoning. You should try it." Carellos knows better than to just pass food across the table with nothing under neath it so he wields it carefully, his other hand covered in a napkin to catch any escaping juices so Reksler's attire can stay clean. He looks over into those cornflower hues with a little smile on his face. C'mon Reks, let the 'mate feed you.

As Carellos answers the harper's question, his expression remains neutral, and anyone that knows him well would understand that this meant interest. Reksler didn't react to things as other people might expect, but he was perfectly capable of experiencing the full range of human emotions that everyone else did. He keeps his attention on the baker as he explains the dish, lowering his gaze to the plate only when Care was busy putting together everything with the intention to feed him. A flicker of dubiousness passes over Reks' smooth features, having kept up with being clean shaven in a continued effort to not be mistaken for his twin. Brows twitch into a furrow, eying both Carellos and his offering, hesitating to make a decision one way or the other maybe a bit longer than necessary. "Uh…" So articulate, isn't he? Now the slightest frown turns down the corners of his thin lips, focusing in on the lightly dripping wrapped concoction and hesitates one more time. Lashes lift, blue meeting green for the duration, and he opens his mouth to very slowly take a very methodical bite.

Look at those emerald eyes looking bright and eager as a little kid waiting for their parents approval at a randomly thrown together glittery concoction of paint and macaroni noodles. Do you like it? Do you? This is something simple and less fattening in comparison to the things the Baker shamelessly devours so hopefully his mate will approve of his choice. Carellos is mindful to keep the napkin angled in a wait to catch any drops that might fall from Reksler's mouth and the man is practically holding his breath until he exhales and says, "What do you think?" That's right, Reks. Your man is looking for your validation and approval like a puppy.

Teeth connect and tear, ripping off a bite and at this point Reksler draws back and straightens his spine. A glob of something or another is clinging to one corner of his mouth, not lasting much longer than it takes for the harper to chew thoroughly and swallow, as his tongue appears to lick it away. "It's has a good texture and the flavors compliment each other," he replies, lashes lowering. "Presentation needs work though." Reks is of course referring to the unappealing nature of the way all the separate elements were so hastily shoved together, opening his mouth to give some other blunt unfiltered opinion but stops as the puppylike eagerness of his mate finally registers. There is an awkward search for the right thing to say, but from someone who always just speaks his mind, it was quickly turning into mission impossible. The final result? Reksler sighs, leaning into the back of his chair as he looks down and away. "Sorry. I really suck at this."

"I know I've seen you eating things a little more enthusiastically, but I'm glad you tried, at least. That makes me happy that you're willing to try new things." Carellos smirks a little, popping the remaining piece into his mouth, not quite hamster like as he did before. "You're right, I'll have to work on the presentation. Maybe I'll make a sculpture out of it like we had to do in class. Maybe… I'll ask for a basket of rolls and make a replica of the weyr or something." The Baker picks up his vegetable slices and loads up another roll. Can't let his meal get cold! Can't stay here all night, either.

If there was anything true of Reks, it was his willingness to try new things, otherwise their relationship may never have started in the first place. His eyes flick back to Carellos, silently observing, and his neutral expression shifting slightly as lashes lower and he once again looks away. A different kind of tension grows, one that was not fueled by anger. Many had flung their poisonous words at the harper's seemingly flawless armor, often parried with incalculable wit or a dismissive snort. The baker though, he was likely the only person on Pern who could get through all of Reksler's defenses and actually do some damage, but not this time. Clicking his tongue off the roof of his mouth, Reks picks his mug back up off the table. "Sarcasm!" A long sip is taken of the cooled contents, wrapping the mug with both hands and crossing his legs the other way round. The harper's expression shifts and it's almost as if he's magically transformed into V'sri right before Care's very eyes, because he grins soft and toothily at his green eyed monster. "So proud."

Reksler has been more patient and tolerant of things the Baker didn't think anyone else would and it's a testiment to their relationship that the Harper hasn't destroyed his very soul. Either that, or Carellos' pout was just too adorable. Like, puppy dog adorable. Speaking of adorable, the Baker begins to clap his hands quietly, chuckling low before returning to the remains of his meal. Once his plate is clean, as well as his face, the Baker takes his glass and just leans back, enjoying the lack of work flow and the close proximity to the Harper. "I miss spending time out like this with you."

There weren't too many people that could handle the harper's volatile nature and perpetual mood swings enough to have any interest at all, let alone have a relationship that has lasted as long as theirs. Reksler was well aware of what he needed to do if he wanted to destroy Carellos completely, but he wasn't in the least bit interested in walking away from the ridiculously attractive guy he'd met in this very place exactly one turn ago. The baker may not remember the exact date, was not expected to, and Reks certainly wasn't going to make a big deal out of it than he already had. Sure, pointing a finger at your mate and gruffly informing him to be somewhere at a particular time without any explanation as to why before rolling over to go to sleep…probably…not how most people plan anniversaries, but this was Reksler, so it is what it is. His smile fades back into neutrality when Carellos starts to clap, once more brings his mug to his lips and sips of the contents. Blue eyes lift over the rim, swallowing and passing his tongue over his lips before tilting his head somewhat to the side. "Oh?" His lashes lower by half, quietly observing Carellos as if he expected something to just miraculously happen. A long stretch of silence later, the harper slides his gaze away and takes another sip. "What exactly is it that you miss?" His gaze returns, bringing the baker back under the microscope, his ever present expectation returning in full force.

"What do I miss?" he replies quietly as those emerald eyes glance down at the table, watching the tiny beads of condensation on the outside of his glass starting to disappear as they fall to the table and ultimately dry out. "I miss being able to watch you from across the table and the way your eyes make the rest of the room look so dim. You're a beautiful man, Reks, and I'm not just talking about the way your lips speak volumes with the way they curve, even if you're silent. Or they you do that cute subtle lean when you recline in your seat, it drives me crazy when I can't trace your heartbeat because I'd likely be kicked out of here. Besides, no one else should see that, not when you're mine. I miss being able to spend every waking moment with you because duty and sleep keep getting in the way. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you, and I don't want to take not even /one/ second for granted." Carellos moves his plate and glass off to the side for collecting and he places both elbows upon the table with palms upright and outstretched in the Harper's direction. His eyes watching, waiting.

Reksler can't watch Carellos for long, not when all that comes spouting out of his mouth, shifting in what might be taken as discomfort except for the fact the harper's cheeks blush a deep shade of red. Thus he remains, intently staring at some point that he probably doesn't even see, even as the server who was ogling the baker before swoops by to pick up the dishes and leave the bill. She doesn't linger this time though, not with the way that the handsome green eyed man was looking at the nasty tempered blue eyed one. It's still a while after she's gone off to help other patrons that Reks (still not looking at Carellos) rummages in a pocket and comes up with payment for the meal, with a generous tip. Yes, he's paying even though he only had a single bite of food and half a cup of tea. A single glance not lasting more than a few seconds is spared to the baker, before it skitters off again and Reks darkens further. "We should go now." he murmurs practically under his breath, breath that is somewhat unsteady, rising from his chair and placing his mug down but collecting his book. Wordlessly he holds a hand out for the baker, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.

Carellos doesn't make a point of showing reaction to his mate blushing or being moved in the opposite direction of angry. He's starving to see more but having these moments come naturally rather than constantly fished for means more to the Baker. These feelings are real, the change in expression on the Harper's face isn't rehearsed or schooled, they're genuine. These moments he won't take for granted. "Let's go," he murmurs in quiet reply. Reksler's hand is gently squeezed and Carellos rises from his seat, mindful not to pull the other man against the table or make movement awkward. As casually as he could be, he places his other hand over Reksler's and together as one, they move to the door. There are other ways he can show his affection and appreciation of the other man that no one else should be privy to.


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