“It’s 4am,” the flier corrected, not falling for Ridoc’s signature move despite that same smirk having seemed to work just fine yesterday during Battle Brief. After all, they ended up here last night, right?

The flier held out Ridoc’s clothing, waiting impatiently for him to get moving. 

“I don’t know what you fliers do, but 4am is considered morning for us riders…” he pushed back, winking at the flier looking down at him. His smirk not faltering an inch. He sat up and swung his legs to the the edge of the bed, the rug beneath him blocking the cold of the stone floor from meeting his feet. 

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Ridoc teased, reaching out to grab the fliers hips, pulling him closer.

“I thought we were going to go for another round? I mean after how you were screaming my name last night —

A wave of blush spread across the fliers face before shoving the black clothes into Ridoc’s hands and stepping back out of his reach. 

“Go now.” He said with forced determination. His eyes fighting to linger on Ridoc’s naked body and menacing eyes.

He breaks his gaze from Ridoc's and walks across the room to the bathing chamber, slamming the door hard, and not bothering to even glimpse back at Ridoc.

Ouch. 

Ridoc was no stranger to rejection from time to time but damn if this one wasn’t a bit disappointing. It wasn’t anything he wouldn’t survive, and it was a choice he would of course respect, but damn if that flier hadn’t been a great time. And Ridoc had certainly lived up to his promise that he could fuck like a third year if the fatigue still plaguing him was any indication. 

He broke his gaze that was still caught on the closed bathroom chamber door and directed his attention back to the clothes in his hands. Setting his clothes on the side of the bed he stood, stretching his arms up above his head to shake off the growing soreness across his body. 

It was a quiet morning beyond the chamber’s window that overlooked Basgiath. The sky beyond was starting to turn from its deep black to blue as the sun began to rise. The buildings beyond were only the slightest bit illuminated by the torches lining the walkways. Before long they would be full of brown and black leather-clad cadets running around for their morning formation. The quadrant kept growing as command moved around fliers from falling outposts across the continent. Those that survived, that is. And from the looks of it, a drift of more gryphon fliers had just arrived on the field.

He hadn’t even noticed the stunning view of the vale when he first walked into the room earlier in the night. Stumbled is more like it — his focus entirely on the flier that had been tangled in his arms. Even my room doesn’t have this good of a view. How the fuck do the new fliers get this! 

“Absurd,” he muttered to himself before turning to his clothes piled on the bed. He pulled on the tight black briefs and pocket-lined riding pants. 

Where the hell is my shirt? He asked himself in confusion as he stood to search around the room, the shirt clearly not in the pile the flier had handed him. With the flier’s traditionally brown uniforms, it wasn’t like they were going to mix up their uniforms any time soon. Damn, how crazy had they gotten last night? 

Not again, he thought to himself, tipping his head back and looked to the ceiling. His shoulders slumped with defeat. Yet another shirt, gone. 

“This can’t keep happening”, he said aloud to no one but himself, still looking up at the ceiling as if the gods above might hear his plea. As if this was the most pressing matter they had to tend to. He was getting tired of having to purchase new uniform shirts. The commissary only gives you so many free replacements before they start charging you for them. And Ridoc was far beyond his share of free replacements.  

He flipped back the jumbled blanket of the bed to check if it was hiding somewhere beneath. Nothing. 

But before he could turn to check the floor and far corners of the room, a folded paper at the edge of the bed caught his eye. Previously hidden under the tousled blanket, laid a partially open missive. 

If curiosity was a person, it would be Ridoc Gamlyn. He paused in his tracks. That certainly hadn't been there last night.

And just like that, Ridoc couldn’t care less about finding his shirt. He slowly glanced up to check that the bathroom chamber was indeed still closed before quickly perching one knee on the bed to reach across the bed and grab the missive. 

His mischievous side couldn’t help the urge. Careful not to leave a mark or dent on the neatly folded missive, Ridoc stood at the edge of the bed and read. 

Dear Ash,

It looks like Zihnal really is listening. One of the newly stationed flier took my weekend watch. Looks like I can take leave this weekend after all. It looks like she’s trying to gain favor with her drift after a training diabolical last week. It was a whole big thing — I’ll tell you all about it once I’m there. Gods I can’t wait to see you. 

I know we haven’t spoken since the fight…but I can’t stop thinking about you. I'm not going to let five years go down the drain with you.

I can only hope this missive reaches you before I do. The flight from Draithus is long and tedious. With any luck I’ll be early Friday morning. 

These months apart have been tiresome. I can’t wait to be in bed with you again soon and get back to the way things were. 

With love,

Flint

Xoxo

What. The. Fuck.

Ridoc stood frozen at the base of the bed. Who the hell was Flint? And why was he coming here! He was NOT about to get his ass beat for making this mistake again. He thought he was in the clear this time! He reached out across the icy bond in panic. 

“Umm we have a problem.” Ridoc called down the bond to Aotrom. 

“What now?” Aotrom mutters, groggy from sleep and in no rush to assist Ridoc despite the plea.

“I need to leave. Right now.” He replies, panic growing within his chest.

“After the night that you just had and how little sleep I got because of it, you can walk to training yourself.” Aotrom scoffs, clearly ready to go back to sleep. 

“That drift that just flew in, where are they coming from…”

“You keep me up all night with the sound of you and that flier and now you wake me to ask me stupid questions?”

“Oh but of course, what fun would it be to let you sleep!” Ridoc exclaims sarcastically. “This is serious!”

“You were supposed to be studying…”

“Yeah, about that….” Ridoc trails off, remembering the promise he'd made to Aotrom to have a chill night in.

“Please don’t piss me off.”

“Where is that drift coming from?” Ridoc repeated. 

Aotrom pauses a moment. “Draithus, apparently.” 

“Ok, I need to leave, NOW.” Ridoc was many things, but a home wrecker was not one of them. And from the looks of it, whoever wrote that missive has just arrived…

“Damn, did that rejection really bruise your ego that much? Looking for a new flier already?” Aotrom teased, still toying with Ridoc’s growing impatience. 

“You said you were sleeping!!” He exclaimed in frustration. Aotrom somehow always managed to tune in at the most embarrassing moments. And he never failed to remind Ridoc constantly about each and every one of them. “He just received a missive signed ‘xoxo’," Ridoc admits, getting back to the topic at hand.

“Signed with ‘xoxo’???”, Aotrom asks, his sarcasm falling away. Oh no. Not again. 

“I think it’s from his boyfriend!” 

“Ridoc please, what did it say!!” Aotrom now at the same level of panic that had been festering within Ridoc’s chest. 

“‘Be there Saturday morning!!!’” Ridoc repeats. 

“Ridoc!!” 

“Help me!!” He pleads. This was going to end poorly if he didn’t leave now. 

The bathroom chamber door opens and a freshly showered Ash steps out with the typical haste of a well-trained flier. The hand held to the towel drying his hair goes slack as his face falls.

“You weren’t supposed to read that”, Ash says, shock holding his features in utter bewilderment. 

“I think we’re past that! You said you were single!” Ridoc argues, gesturing to the missive still in his hands.

“I am!” Ash exclaimed, walking around the base of the bed with only a towel around his waist, snatching the missive from Ridoc’s hands. 

“Then what is this!” Ridoc exclaimed, confusion clearly spread across his face. Anger? No. But complete and utter fear? Definitely. Riders were already on thin ice with fliers  — he didn’t need to make matters worse by getting between two of them. Though in any other circumstances the thought of that wouldn’t be half bad…

“Does he know he’s coming back,” Aotrom interrupts.

“Yes!” He replies, aghast with his mistake. This isn't the first time he's gotten caught up in something like this but he had hoped last time would've been his last.

“We aren’t together anymore!” Ash promises, taking the missive and setting it on the table across the foot of the bed by the door. “But clearly he wanted to make things up to me somehow. If he sees you here he will kick your ass.” The flier guarantees, reaching for his armoire quickly to begin dressing for the reunion he seems less than thrilled for. 

Ridoc was so overcome with shock, that he barely even had time to appreciate the view of the glistening set of abs the flier sported and the black towel hanging from his waist. Despite it all, he did have to admit that black suited him quite well…

“They’re approaching the quadrant” Aotrom updates, interrupting his intrusive thoughts. 

“Get in the closet.” The rider declares, keeping his voice low and ripping his flier’s pants and shirts from their hangers within the wooden structure.

“I’m sorry,” Ridoc pauses. “What?” He clarifies, his voice rising along with his fear. 

“SHHHHH! Be quiet or someone will hear you!” 

“You weren’t worried about being quiet last night,” he retorts. The shadow his usual smirk spreads across his lips as he tries to lighten the mood.

Ash turns to Ridoc with his features completely schooled. Oh shit. He’s not kidding.

“He’s trying get me in the closet.” Ridoc reports. 

“Absolutely not. You need to leave.” Aotrom responds. Fear and impatience mix in his tone. 

“Get in!” Ash repeats in a harsh whisper , leaving the armoire door ajar as he removes his towel and starts dressing. Damn. Ridoc is really going to miss this view if he makes it out of this alive. 

Ridoc stares at the flier, paralyzed in shock. The armoire is spacious but not that spacious! How on earth is he going to hide in there? And for how long! 

“I’m not hiding in that!” Ridoc shouts in his best whisper. He flings his arm up to gesture to the armoire. Utter confusion and shock spread across his every feature. At almost 6’4”, there is no way he is going to stay in that damn armoire for however long it takes for Ash to deal with his surprise visitor. And having to listen in to whatever they talk about…or do…Ridoc stops himself before he can cringe at the very thought. He can’t even find it within himself to make a joke about being in the closet again…

“You don’t have a choice!” Ash responds assertively in a similar shouting whisper as he pulls his shirt over his damp hair. 

“Should I jump out of the window?” Ridoc offers to Aotrom. Any plan is better than no plan…right? 

“Maybe try the door…” Aotrom offers, trying to overlook the harsh truth that the odds of Ridoc making it across the long hallway and down the stairs before the ex-boyfriend-that’s-not-actually-his-ex makes it to the room are slim to none.  

Ridoc opens his mouth to rebuke the flier. His gaze challenges Ridoc’s in a matter-of-fact manner that makes Ridoc hesitate a second more than he should. His gaze even drops to his lips before —

“Are you seriously turned on right now?” Aotrom scoffs, questioning where on earth Ridoc got the audacity. 

Before Ridoc can respond to either, a light knock sounds at the door only mere feet from where Ridoc and Ash stand.

“Ash? Are you up? It's Flint.” A handsome and hoarse voice calls quietly from the hallway. 

“FUCK!” Ash whispers to himself as he turns to discard the towel in his hands onto the chair across the room, his pants now hastily fastened.

“This isn’t good.” Aotrom offers through the icy bond connecting them. How utterly unhelpful of him. 

“Am I cooked?” Ridoc asks as the acceptance of the inevitable ass-kicking awaiting him begins to creep in. 

“Not yet. Maybe? I don’t know.” Reassurance is not his strong suit. 

“Thanks for that." The audacity of this dragon will be the death of him.

Ash rushes to his side of the bed, untangling the bed’s sheets and flipping them back to normal while silently gesturing to Ridoc. 

GET. IN. THERE. He makes the demand clear as his sharp eyes dart between Ridoc and the still-open armoire. 

“FUCK,” Ridoc silently whispers to himself. Looks like this is really happening. 

“Hey, one second.” Ash replies to the voice waiting in the hallway. Panic seeps into his best attempt at a calm and groggy morning voice. 

Accepting his fate, Ridoc reluctantly grabs his boots and climbs into the armoire. With the space still mostly empty as a result of the Cygnisen riders’ only recent arrival, he manages to fit inside. Thank Gods. Ridoc sits at the base of the structure, both of his legs scrunched up to fit and holding his boots to his bare chest. Thankfully the heavy wooden armoire doesn’t creak at the sudden addition of his weight as he reaches to close to armoire door. He can't help but think how the fuck Violet and Xaden broke one of these things…

Through the muffle of the thick wood, Ridoc hears the chamber door open and shut. Fuck. How long is this going to take?

“I’m in the closet now…” He updates. 

“You need to go!”

“How!?”

“I don’t know! Figure it out!”

“Am I going to get my ass beat?” Ridoc questions, his legs already starting to cramp from the small space. “They’ve been together 5 years!”

“Did you know?” Aotrom asks doubtfully. He's never fully sure when it comes to Ridoc. 

“I’m just finding out!” He pleads. This can’t possibly be the best time to unpack all of this.

“Ridoc, why do you do this...” Aotrom asks, utter defeat clear in his voice. 

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Ridoc promises, sighing audible down the bond. 

Ridoc leans his ear to the door of the armoire, careful not to push the door open. The voices don’t seem to be very close. Did they leave? Are they outside?

Through the thick door he begins to hear the distant sound of two voices rising, though he can’t full hear what they’re saying. Are they…arguing? He pushes his ear a little closer to confirm whether or not the two are mere feet away from him or in the hallway beyond. He can’t know for certain but it’s a gamble he’s going to have to take. There’s absolutely no way he’s going to last another minute in this damn armoire. He slowly pushes open the door, careful not to let it swing beyond a crack and expose his hiding spot in the case that he’s wrong.

The room is silent with the exception of Ash and his visitor's argument muffled through the thick chamber door.

“They’re arguing outside the room!” He confirms to Aotrom as he pushes the armoire door full open.

“You can’t just show up here unannounced when you decide it’s time for you to apologize!” Ash says at full volume, so loud that his voice is almost clear despite the barrier. So much for not wanting to be loud.

Ridoc steps out of the armoire, the blood rushing back to his legs and still-bare feet. 

“Now is your time. It might be time to use that window…”

“Hell no!” He instantly responds, the prospect of jumping out the window looking far less appealing now than it did before. With the cover of darkness beginning to fade, jumping out the window shirtless and barefoot above the couryard of cadets who were surely beginning their morning routines was definitely not the top of his to-do list for today. 

“Do you want your ass handed to you…?”

Ridoc stills as the voices beyond the door get louder... 

“Is it because there’s someone else?” The handsome voice asks from beyond the door. “…There’s someone in there right now, isn’t there.” The voice asks, now dripping in jealously. 

“Oh my god…” Fear washes over Ridoc in a cold and sobering wave. He looks to the sky outside the window beginning to glow a pinkish hue as the sun rises over The Vale. In any other circumstance the view would be nice, beautiful even. But past the shingled roof below, he can see the first year cadets start filing into the courtyard for their usual morning workouts. 

“The jump isn’t that far. Maybe they won’t see you.” Aotrom offers, almost mockingly. 

“Not helpful!” Ridoc retorts. Dread for the lecture from Rhi that surely awaits him makes his stomach drop. 

Better a talk from Rhi than an ass-kicking from whoever is standing in the hallway right now and getting angrier by the second…

“On my way.” Aotrom confirms, realizing Ridoc's options are quickly running out.

“Who is he!” The angry voice shouts. 

Ridoc isn’t going to wait a second longer and let him answer that question by barging into the room. He stares at the window beyond him and accepts his fate. 

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself before throwing his hand up, shooting a spread of ice daggers through the bedroom window. 

The sound of shattering glass fills the room as the cold air rushes in to fill it. Despite the glass beneath him threatening to cut through his bare feet, he doesn’t waste a second climbing onto the windowsill. If the man outside didn't hear him before, then he’s definitely heard him now.

Ridoc flicks his wrist and ices the shingles beyond him with his free hand, creating a make-shift ice ramp from the window to the edge of the roof. 20 feet of shingles and then a 4 story drop to the middle of the courtyard. Easy, right?

“Incoming.” Aotrom warns. 

“I hope you’re right about this…” Ridoc responds, not bothering to hide the doubt in his voice. Before he can have time to question what he’s about to do, or pause at what was certainly a door behind him opening, he jumps feet first with his boots in hand. He slides down the shingles beneath him. 20 feet. 10 feet. 5 feet. In seconds he clears the roof and is launched into the air. Before his stomach has the time to drop in free fall, a brown, scaled body rises up beneath to meet him.

He lands with a slam into Aotrom’s back before grappling with his free hand to hold his body upright. As far as landings go…that wasn't his worse. 

“Gods I hope at least someone saw how cool that was.” Relief finally finding its place in Ridoc’s chest.

“Oh they definitely did.” Aotrom assures him. “From the looks of it, you got an audience of the new fliers, some first years, and I think that might’ve even been the squad leader there in the courtyard!” He’s getting far too much joy out of the chaos this stunt is going to cause him.