(2017-01-07) Letters and Belly Rubs
Letters and Belly Rubs
Summary: Schemes on how to solve the Rainier mystery turn into Whitley and Besa mushiness.
Date: IC Date (2017-01-07)
Related: Related Logs (Say None if there aren't any; don't leave blank. You have to use full URLs, like http://coralsprings.wikidot.com/logtitle)
NPCs: Players go below, other chars that deserve mention can be listed here
Scene Runner: Who ran this scene, NA if no-one or mutual
Players:
besa..whitley..

Alister and Besa's Dorm

Besa's not gone to class today, not after finding the bowl on his bed next to him this morning. He would have shooed anyone concerned off to class, saying he had somethings he could work on. He knows he's going to end up in Med Bay soon, he'd like to get prepared. This is, unfortunately, a ritual he's gone through many times, although he's not certain what to really expect. He's stayed away from the bowl, and is currently sitting at his desk, writing something. He's already gotten two letters done, envelopes shoved into the drawer of his desk. His head is sporting an amazing bed head, this boy should really be on hair style magazine covers! But the rest of him just looks tired. There's a half a glass of water and some old toast on a plate there too. He's not touched the toast.

At some point after classes, Whitley pops in to check on Besa. He knocks on the door a few times. "Besa! Can I come in?' He seems pretty impatient about it. "Are you changing? You didn't come to class. Again." After a moment or two of waiting, he rudely phases on through. "Wow, you rock the bed head better than Rainier." He grins, grey eyes on sexy Besa hair. "Writing love letters to your secret lover?" But he knows this is probably serious, so he sobers up pretty quickly and makes his way towards the desk.

Besa's half way up to the door when Whit's suddenly in his room. "Hi." He blinks, eyes focusing on the older boy, "Are you alright?' he seems awfully…something. The desk is glanced to, "No secret lovers." He seems more with it today than yesterday, the magic drained him more than he realized. He moves to the desk to and reaches a hand for Whit's, "You did not need to come check on me, but thank you."

"I'd be a horrible boyfriend if I didn't check on you after the mass confusion that was yesterday," Whitley entwines his fingers with Besa's and follows him to the desk. "I'm as good as I can be given the strange circumstances. Why?" The boy turns to look over at the papers. "What are you writing?" He quirks a brow, curious. "And to whom?"

Besa smiles, it's gentle and warm, "You would have to try much harder to be a horrible boyfriend than that." He shrugs, looking up at the taller boy, "Because I would be a horrible boyfriend if I did not ask." The letter on top has a 'Dear Tabitha' on top, and yes, they do seem to be all letters. "I am writing thank you letters, in case my priests show up and take me away. I should have written them months ago."

That gets Whitley frowning softly. "Tabitha…" He glances up at Besa, trying to put on a smirk. "I didn't get one?" He puts a hand on his chest in feigned pain. "I'm hurt." Then he shakes his head and squeezes Besa's hand. "We'll see about your priests taking you away after Robert Sabnison." It could mean something, it could not. They will have to find out, perhaps after they deal with the Rain situation, if it can even be reversed.

That gets a smile and a soft chuckle, "Of course you have." He doesn't say where it is though. Still smiling he lifts a hand to touch Whit's on his chest, "Do you need to be healed?" His smile falters slightly, "Whitley…One of the nurses here is connected to my priests. If I die from this bowl…they will try to take me away." Of course they would. That just makes sense. It would be the third time he's died here. His fingers curl around his hand on his chest, now he's holding both of Whit's hands, "We will see." he's not going to dash Whit's hopes. It's really the only hope the Egyptian has currently.

Another curious look around Besa's desk as Whitley wonders where his letter is. Of course, it's not meant to be seen yet, and since he's not Schuyler, he doesn't tear the letters into pieces. Instead, he smiles to Besa, hand now against his chest. "I'll live." A touch more firmly, he replies, "You're not going to die from the bowl. Where is it now?" His gaze wanders around Besa's room. "It should stay with me and Sky." But it might just reappear with Besa the next day…

Yes, tearing up letters would probably not be the best thing Whit could do, even if he feels like it. He doesn't answer, but the boy's dark eyes travel to his bed where the bowl is sitting. On his pillow. "I will not argue that. But I do not know if it would help." Yes, he thinks the same thing, that it will reappear.

Creepy…Did Besa move it there? Whitley doesn't ask, the bowl just floats into his hands as his fingers slowly wrap around it. He stills, waiting for the artifact to do something creepy like it did with Besa at the Charity Ball. "I'm not sure, either, but it's worth a shot. Please…try not to die." This time it's Whitley pleading with Besa…'cause it'd break his already broken heart.

Besa inhales sharply, taking a step away from the floating bowl. Nothing happens when Whit touches the bowl, besides Besa stepping away. "I do not wish to, Whitley. I promise." His eyes are now on the bowl though and not looking at the Ares. "I do not want to leave you. Any of you."

Whitley visibly relaxes when the bowl doesn't try any voodoo on him. Then, there is a sigh as he looks to Besa. "I will do everything in my power to make sure you don't." That's pretty much all he can offer on that. "Speaking of 'any of us'…I had the idea to mentally examine Rain since Schuyler might be harder to read." The mere idea of entering another person's mind seems to unnerve him slightly. "Do you think s - he'd consent to it?"

That's all Besa could ask for, too. The change of topic is appreciated and Besa nods, "She may, yes." Besa's not playing the he game. "I can be there, if that would help." He starts to step forward, but then he stops, the bowl is still in Whit's hands. "Rain is a good person. She does not deserve this." Instead, he turns and sits down on the chair by his desk. "I am going to call their mother soon." As soon as he can get someone to dial the phone after he gets the number.

Not knowing Rain well enough, Whitley sticks to he, just because it will cause even more confusion otherwise, at least for boy Rain. "I dunno…I've never done it before, and I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself in front of my boyfriend." He winks, his grip careful against the bowl. "She doesn't seem to mind…but that's what I'm going to figure out. There might be some repressed memories still inside Rainier's mind. If not, then I will try sending him my own memories of the female Rain." He nods. "I can dial the phone."

Besa smiles up at Whit, "Would you like to try on me first then?" The best bed head in the world nods, "Then I will get the number from Schulyer or Rain." Thin fingers raise and rub his forehead, a common motion lately, "Thank you."

Whitley tilts his head slightly, confused. "You'd want me to go inside your head?" That's…different. He quickly shakes his head. "No, I could never do that to you." But apparently, he could do it to Rain without much remorse. "It might be painful or I could find something that you would not want me to see." Or the other way around. Pondering aloud, "I wonder what Charlotte will think once she finds out. Now, she can have twins!" More likely, she will be terrified out of her mind.

Besa's shoulder lifts slightly, "If you need the practice, I do not mind." He doesn't have anything to hide that he knows of. He head tilts, "Does it hurt?" Because if it does, then he doesn't want him doing that to Rain. Oh, he answers that, and Besa frowns, his opinion starting to shift, "You should not do that to Rain then, unless you would do it to me." Confused, his head tilts the other way, "Does she not have twins already?" Don't they all? He's clearly not realizing what Whit means.

"Probably not," Whitley says about it hurting. "I've never tried it, but when Sky did it to me, there was no pain. That's not something I'd want to do without reason, Besa. I won't hurt him, I promise." He assures Besa, then laughs at the question on Charlotte. "In a naughty way. Like in bed. I hear two is better than one." He grins. "I guess I can practice on you…Quick! Think of a number!"

<FS3> Whitley rolls Psychic: Success.

Besa's still not completely ok with him doing it to Rain though. The probably not didn't help. He blinks though, confusion until it clicks what Whit means. Twins. Oh dear. "…oh." Is that something Whit's interested in? He swallows, the question unfortunately still shadowed by the twins comment. So practicing immediately turns to bed thoughts. "Uh…3?"

If it's something that interests Whit, he doesn't say and instead waves a hand. "Don't tell me the number!" But perhaps he wasn't clear on that. "Okay, let's try that again." He leans in very close and looks straight into those big, dark eyes. "Think of something, and I will try to figure out what it is."

<FS3> Whitley rolls Psychic: Success.

Besa's eyes are big, and he leans backwards, Whit's still holding the damn bowl. Something along the lines of 'son of a barren donkey bowl' but he then swallows and tries to not act nervous. The number 5 floats in his head, but he asks, "A number?"

Whitley lets the bowl float back to Besa's bed as he leans closer. "Five?" He guesses, still not sure what thoughts are his and what thoughts are Besa's, even though the Egyptian has opened his mind to him. Is this how all telepaths feel at first? "Not necessarily." Whitley grins. "You can think of whatever you want." Maybe something that Whitley couldn't possibly get confused with his own ideas.

<FS3> Whitley rolls Psychic: Good Success.

Besa visibly relaxes as the bowl floats away. Praise the stars. He smiles softly, "Yes, five." Anything he wants? He glances to the bed, but not with the bowl there. That's kind of a turn-off, so instead he thinks back, to a grey hound looking dog, with bright eyes and a happy face. He's drawn the dog before, although it did not look like this.

"A mutt!" Whitley exclaims, proud of himself. His lips briefly touch Besa's before he leans back again, grinning widely. "A grey one who looks happy. Is that your dog from a few centuries ago?" He lifts a fist in the air in triumph. "See. That didn't hurt, so Rainier will be fine." He peers at Besa curiously. "It didn't hurt, right?"

Besa's eyes widen, "He was not a mutt!" The teen sits a little straighter, but it's out of pride, "He was a good dog." Any indignation leaves him at the kiss though and he smiles, almost shyly, "Yes. I miss him more than any of my other pets." He's had plenty. "No, it did not hurt. I did not even feel it." Well, mostly. Knowing someone is in your head gives you phantom twitches.

"Fine, a dog," Whitley doesn't seem to think it's a big deal, so focuses on what's really important here. "But I was correct, right? That's soooo cool. No wonder Sky likes to stay in people's head so much." And because it's his main form of communication, but it looks like Whit has forgotten about that in his excitement. "Why was your dog so happy?" He asks after mentally cheering himself on a few times.

Besa is still smiling, but there's a slightly hint of worry. He doesn't like how much Sky's in people's heads, he hopes Whit doesn't do that too. "He just was. He liked to play and was content if I rubbed his belly. We would go hunting." Besa hunting is a rather strange idea, probably. "He liked me."

"Awww," Whitley smiles warmly. "Well, I like you too. And my eyes are grey." His slender shoulders rise in a shrug. "I suppose me and your dog aren't so different. I mean, I don't slobber nearly as much, but I'd probably be content if you rubbed me." He laughs again and then arches a brow at the hunting. It's not too much of a shock, though, things were different back then. Whitley has never hunted. Not animals, anyway.

Besa smiles wider, thinking Whit is being silly. "Clearly, that is what attracted me to you. You similarity to my dog." He blinks, "I can rub your belly, if you'd like." Anything else might have to wait. He arches an eyebrow back, "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just kinda surprised that you're a hunter is all. Or…used to be a hunter, I guess." Whitley smirks at the belly rub comment, not revealing what he had in mind, if anything at all. "Maybe later. I'm also glad you think I look like a dog." He teases.

Besa shakes his head, hair moving with the movement, "Hunting is a sport. I am rather good with a bow and arrow." He lifts a hand and reaches for Whit's belly. "Later?" He laughs, "I did not say that you looked like a dog. Just that you and he both make me happy."

"Hmmm…I've never been hunting, but I'm quite the archer," Whitley says, a cocky grin on his face. "Maybe we should go target practice sometime." Judging by literally everything remotely physical the pair have tried in the past, Whitley is guessing he will be better at it than Besa. He looks down at the hand on his belly, his skin is pleasantly warm underneath. "Is this the part where I start rolling around like a dog?"

Besa nods, "I would like that." He might be able to hold his own…maybe. He giggles, "Or you can start to twitch your leg, if you want." His hand stays still though, the Ares warmth feels nice against his cold fingers. He's so cold now, another worrisome thing.

"Or I could start licking you," Dark eyebrows waggle suggestively. Whitley's hand rest on Besa's, keeping him there even though his fingers are cold. "I don't have a bow though. It's one of the only weapons I don't own. That, and firearms, but not from lack of trying." Apparently, it's a school policy or something?!?

Besa's eyes widen, but he's smiling, "You could…" Hard to tell if he just thinks that's amusing, or what. A small shiver, but the taller boy's belly seems to be warming his fingers. or maybe it's his hand onto of Besa's. "I do not have one either. I use the schools." His nose wrinkles at the mention of a gun, but he doesn't say anything else.

Whitley assumes the former and doesn't try to lick Besa. "I'm sure we can borrow some from the school to have a little archery date, then." He notes the nose wrinkle and immediately guesses where it's coming from. He was shot. "And you can use your warmth runes, so we aren't cold." Like Besa's fingers.

Besa likes that. "We can pack a lunch." In the winter. Yikes. He nods, "I can, yes. We can have a picnic, if you want." They will be the envy of all the girls in the school, getting to go on a winter picnic!

Whitley nods, it will be a nice distraction from all the craziness that surrounds Besa and now even the twins, specifically Rain. Leaning in, he presses another kiss to Besa's lips, this one lasting quite a bit longer before he pulls away. "Sounds grand. Would you like me to stay with you tonight?" He scrunches up his nose. "I think Rainier might have saw us together last time."

Besa's eyes flutter closed at the kiss. He's tired, not dead (yet). A deep breath and he opens then, eyebrows pulling together, "I do not think that would be allowed." And his new roommate might not appreciate it. "But thank you. That is very sweet of you to ask." He shrugs, "Does that matter?"

"Perhaps not, but I have a feeling new Rain might give me a hard time about it…" Whitley mimics the shrug with one of his own, seemingly unconcerned with the school rules on bunking. Let them catch him if they can! "Okay, well, I'm going to let you get some rest." Besa's always tired! "Sweet dreams." And the bowl starts floating beside him as he exits Besa's dorm.

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