Another Round in a Losing Fight [Thatcher]

You failed, Zachary thought to himself as he slumped in a deserted and dimly lit corner of the dining cavern. You may never have another chance, and you failed.

It was hours since the very last dragonet made its way off the hot hatching sands with his newly chosen partner. The mood in the candidate's quarters was oppressive. After several sleepless hours he gave up, leaving his two green fits sleeping on his bunk and seeking solitude in the quiet dining cavern. The spectacular failure of the geneticist's choices had started rumors circulating, and those who failed impression today could not be certain that their candidacy even still stood. Not that Zachary could summon the will to be very surprised. It was fitting that the geneticists turn out to be bumbling fools. After all, they'd chosen him.

With a groan his curly head sunk down onto his hands as a wave of worthlessness and depression washed over him. Though he was completely oblivious, his ruffled appearance, five o'clock shadow, and hollow face gave him a look of intensely beautiful melancholia. He heaved a sigh and rubbed his temples with his long, dexterous fingers. Would this terrible night- this night when the emptiness in his life was greater than ever before- never end?

Thatcher was a night person. He'd only woken up to see they hatching which was again spectacular, and then after that he'd went back to bed for a couple of hours. Then he woke up. Normally he would've tried to sleep a little bit through the night, but he had the day off tomorrow and was planning on staying up as long as he wanted.

He headed towards the Dining Hall to get a quick something to eat. He was wearing one of his better outfits since he knew he wasn't going to get it dirty. Tight, black pants made of denim was accented by sharp black boots and a tight white tank with a short sleeved black shirt with silver stripes over it was his outfit. His hair though was as it's usual unkempt style. Thatcher thought he looked pretty good, he just hoped everyone else did.

Once in the Dining Hall he got himself a piece of bread and a bit of cheese along with a tall glass of quikal. Then he looked for a seat. Most people this late at night would probably prefer sitting with themselves, but Thatcher wasn't most people and instead look for someone to sit with. He saw a man, quite a handsome one too, sitting by himself. The poor guy looked very upset. Well that was all the reason Thatcher needed to go over to him. "Hey there." He said giving one of his brightest, most devilish smiles and a wink. "Mind if I sit down? I get lonely sitting by myself."

Zachary started and looked up, almost guiltily, at the attractive and brightly smiling man standing beside the table. He moved over unconsciously on the bench, not because it was necessary as the whole table next to him and across from him was open, but rather out of some kind of subconscious imperative to make himself smaller... less in the way. At the same moment he brushed two or three coffee-brown curls behind his left ear and flashed an instinctive, nervous smile.

"No, I mean yes. I mean... please, sit. I'm... not very good company tonight, but I'm not going to sleep anytime soon, so if you want a warm body I guess..." he stopped, flushed, and looked down. Stupid. "I'm Zachary," he concluded lamely, clearly flustered.

Thatcher couldn't help but laugh gently at the boy's obvious awkwardness. It was endearing almost. He took a seat next to the boy, Zachary. "Thank you kindly. Warm bodies are always nice on a lonely night. The name's Thatcher, it's a pleasure to meet you Zach." He then began to eat the food he got. It was pretty delicious. "You want to talk to me about why you are so depressed my friend? I'm all ears and very willing to listen."

Zachary blinked and huddled his body closely to give the other man far more room than was necessary. He was far more used to being, well, invisible. People usually didn't ask "invisible" people why they were depressed.

"I didn't impress," he said, his surprise causing him to be uncharacteristically blunt and honest. "The geneticists botched everything, including picking me. They were wrong and I'm... I'm not sure I'll even get a chance. They're all talking, you know, because so much the geneticists said was wrong. I'm not sure they'll even want us geneticist-picked people to stand again." He paused and tugged the sleeves of his thin gray shirt over his hands. He was a little agitated. He didn't know if it was because he was tired or if it was the recent emotional strain, but he felt inclined to give voice to the secret he carried with him- the deeper, underlying issue. After a brief pause he made up his mind and continued, haltingly.

"I... I came here alone, you know? To Pern I mean. They were taking young unattached men, but I think it's because they wanted us to find girls and populate this world. It sounds dumb when I say it like that, but it's logical. I didn't tell them that I... I like men. That I can't perform with women. I feel like I lied and I shouldn't be here. I felt like dragon riding was a way I could make a contribution, and I feel lost now that I've been passed over." He stopped, aghast at the tumble of words that fell from him. "I'm so sorry, Thatcher," he said, brushing a hand through his hair in what was by now evidently a nervous habit. "I shouldn't unload on you. I think I don't talk to people enough. I go most days only saying anything to my flits, and they aren't exactly great conversationalists."

Even if Thatcher was known to be a bit too self centered at times, he was a good listener. The trick was whether or not he really cared about what he was hearing. Of course unless a person was an excellent judge of character a person wouldn't be able to tell whether he cared or not. This time however, Thatcher did care. He remembered his own plight with his parents when he told them that he wasn't only attracted to women. That had been an interesting night indeed.

He gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder. "Hey, you shouldn't so hard on yourself. Just because the dragons didn't just pick those the geneticist chose doesn't mean you won't get your chance. So far it seems as if the dragons seem to know who they want regardless of what some sharding scientists think." Thatcher said trying to cheer the boy up. For himself he didn't ever plan on trying for a dragon for one very good reason, he was afraid of heights.

Zachery's last statement is what really threw him off. "You mean...girls don't even...get a rise out of you?" He asked cautiously. He gave a look that said 'well what can you do'. "There's nothing wrong with only liking men. I mean what you say about wanting unattached men to help populate is probably true, but just because you can't contribute in that way doesn't mean you can't do something else. I'm sure you'll impress and if you don't there's always something else you can do. I mean look at me. I don't plan on ever wanting kids so I'm no more useful than you are in that instance. But I'm not even planning on trying for impression like you are. I don't think I'm less worthy to be here than those that have had kids or impressed. Don't be so hard on yourself, sport." He said and ruffled Zach's hair playfully.

Thatcher smiled at Zach and grabbed his shoulder, "Please. I don't mind, unload all you want. I wouldn't have said I'd listen if I didn't mean it." He then took a moment to take a drink of his quikal, while he was drinking he took a chance to look Zach over better. Since he now knew that the handsome man liked men, he might have a chance to have a warm body in his bed tonight. "So, Zach, do you have a boyfriend?" He asked curiously, not that the answer would deter him any way. Thatcher was bold enough to put a hand on his leg.

Zachary felt an odd blend of emotions. First and foremost he was relieved. Thatcher made perfect sense, and it was a relief to know he wasn't the only person on Pern who wasn't a rugged, pioneering type intent on tilling the ground and breeding extensive families. Secondly, he was a little embarrassed. By suggesting his own worthlessness, he had projected that onto Thatcher. After all, the other... attractive young man was in a similar position though through different choices. Thatcher didn't seem offended, though, so Zachary made an effort to relax.

That is, until her felt the hand on his leg. He managed to mostly suppress his start of surprise, and only the skin directly under Thatcher's hand trembled very slightly, the way a high spirited horse's flank shivers at a light touch. "No," he said, his voice just a shade higher and more feminine as his vocal chords constricted. He cleared his throat. "No... I haven't met anyone like me," he looked down at the hand. That was pretty clear. "Like us," he said.

There was a small part of Thatcher that slightly enjoyed the way he made Zachery start under his hand. Another devilish smile crossed his lips, at least now the handsome man knew he wasn't the only one attracted to men. Plus the fact that he didn't have a boyfriend was probably going to make things easier.

"Really? I know there are others around here that are attracted to the same sex like us, but I honestly couldn't point them out. Funny thing since those old stereotypes aren't suppose to exist any more." He said with a giggle. "In all honesty I swing either way. I like men and women both, never really had a preference for one or the other." He said, not bothering to move his hand from Zach's leg.

"I, uh, just don't know that many people, I guess," Zachary gulped, trying to keep his voice and his body on an even keel as he battled certain physical reactions brought about by the soft touch on his leg. Shards- how pathetic, he was strung tighter than the E string on his violin if this was all it took to get a rise out of him. But how long had it been since someone looked at him that way? He couldn't even remember. "And I have never been very good at, you know, telling that about a person without knowing them."

Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that Thatcher liked both men and women, but at this very moment in was a moot point in his mind because all he could think was that he somehow fit into that. For all he cared, Thatcher could have said he had physical interests in Men and Bread Boxes and he would not have cared.

Thatcher could tell he had achieved what it was he was wanting and that was to bait Zach. Now the trick was to give the fish some line and let 'em run with it. Slowly he took his hand off Zach's leg, hoping that his plan would work. "I can't say I'm the best at telling myself. What is it they use to call it oh so long ago? Gaydar? How ridiculous. It is hard to tell sometimes though, I don't think I would've guessed you liked men over women. Can't say I'm not happy to know either." He said and gave him another wink.

Zachary laughed, a surprisingly lovely sound. He didn't have a particularly noteworthy voice, a beautiful singing voice, or even very much musical talent... but for one reason or another he had a particularly pleasant and melodious laughter that was distinct. "I haven't heard that before. Is that what they called us? Gay? Like happy? I kind of like that."

He squirmed the tiniest bit. The warmth and pressure of Thatcher's hand on his thigh had been... exciting. Was he losing interest? Was he waiting for a sigh from him? Gingerly and very slowly, he scooted his body closer to the other man until their knees just barely brushed one another.

Thatcher couldn't help but laugh along with him, Zach's laughter was infectious for some reason. "I know, tell me about it. I don't know much more than that and the fact that it was looked down upon years and years and years ago." He shrugged meaning that something that far back really didn't have anything to do with them now.

A glint lit in Thatcher's eyes when Zach moved closer to him. The bait had worked, Zach was hooked now whether he knew it or not. Thatcher slid down a bit in his chair so more of his leg could be touching Zach's. He wanted to make sure the boy knew he was still interested. "So, Zach. What're your plans for the rest of the evening?" He asked with the tiniest hint of suggestion behind his voice.

ooc: Sorry this is going to be fail in advance, I'm pooped from homework but I don't want to put it off any longer so I'm going to do the best I can!
bic:

Oh... my...

Even Zachary wasn't quite dense enough to miss the invitation in that voice, and he was suddenly washed over with a feeling of desire and glee at his own good fortune. He was being noticed by someone, and that other person was so... lovely.

But there was still a danger. If he came across over eager or even desperate, that could spoil all his chances at enjoying these attentions for longer or in a more, er, physical way. He tried to keep his voice even and neutral, though his success was perhaps a little patchy. "Oh... I don't have any plans. The girls, my flits I mean, have turned in for the night and I have no responsibilities. I'm entirely," he paused. At your service? No, too strong. "...at liberty," he finished with a sheepish but sweet little grin.