thewidewideworld | (no subject)

Ragnar sheds his sooty shirt and grimy trousers in record time, even though he stumbles when kicking of his shoes; soon, he stands there naked, pale where his clothes were and covered in a thin layer of soot everywhere else.

Sinric can't help but laugh at the lines of black and pale skin, making Ragnar look like a spotted horse or cow. "Here, come under the shower and let me wash you while the bath runs. Lest we fill the bath with soot."

He sheds his own clothes a little more carefully, setting them aside and stepping to Ragnar. Pale and fine, he looks so small compared to the big Northman.

Ragnar puts his dirty clothes aside in a heap, and steps through into the bathroom, right into the shower stall.

"Charcoal is so black," he says, innocently.

Sinric laughs and follows Ragnar into the shower, armed with a loofah. "That it is. And you've managed to get it on every part of you that wasn't covered." He reaches around Ragnar, pressing his chest against the northman's shoulders as he fetches the soap. "What were you do?"

"I helped the Goth to take apart his first burned-through charcoal kiln," Ragnar says, happily leaning into the touch.

"How wonderful! It must have been hard work?" He scrubs down Ragnar's back, starting at the base of his neck. He clucks softly as water streams black from Ragnar's hair. "I shall have to take out your braid to wash your hair."

"It takes a long time to do again," Ragnar says. "You might want to get Athelstan for help when my hair is dry again."

He stretches.

"And yes, it was hard work. I enjoyed it."

"I'm very good at braiding other people's hair." He assures softly, fingers moving nimbly through Ragnar's hair, shaking out the dust and soot from Ragnar's hair.

Ragnar leans back into the ministrations with a little pleased sigh.

Sinric runs his fingers through Ragnar's hair, massaging his scalp till the water runs clear. He presses a small kiss to Ragnar's shoulder, reaching for the shampoo.

{ooc: lickable icon!}

"I hope I'm not getting you dirty," Ragnar says, talking in order not to melt into a puddle of well-being on the spot.

"Not particularly." Sinric laughs, rinsing the suds from Ragnar's hair. "But you're welcome to get me clean once we're in the bath."

"Oh yes," Ragnar purrs, "every little bit of you."

"Now that I look forward to." Sinric purrs in return, working the conditioner right in to the roots and massaging Ragnar's scalp again balancing on tiptoes as he does. "There. Leave that in as we soak in the bath." He curls Ragnar's hair into a neat bun at the base of his skull.

"Am I clean enough for that now?"

Sinric turns him around to look, casting a critical eye over Ragnar's hard body. "I think you'll do." But he does give Ragnar a quick going over with the sponge anyway. Just to be sure.

"Very thorough of you," Ragnar says, lifting his arms so Sinric can reach everywhere.

"Let it never be said I'm lax in my duty." He washed down Ragnar's arms and underarms, waking down to gently wash his groin.

The groin quite obviously likes the attention. Ragnar gives a pleased purr.

Sinric smiles up as Ragnar as his fingers curl around Ragnar's manhood, slick and slippery with soap as he steps closer. His other hand cups Ragnar's stones, massaging them softly.

Ragnar shamelessly moans with the pleasure. "Will we even make it to the bath before you -- Ahh, yes! -- bring me the first time?"

"Do you want me to?" Sinric asks with a purr, his fingers slipping deeper to trace the rear curve of Ragnar's stones.

"You seem to want to," Ragnar moans, "and I'm not complaining."

He can go slow the second time around, with Sinric.

"I haven't decided." Sinric smiles, pushing up on his toes to kiss Ragnar. "I just wanted my hands on you." But he strokes Ragnar still. Just slow enough and tight enough to make him moan again.

"I will leave it -- ohhhh yes! That! -- to your judgement!" Ragnar moans, reaching out to steady himself against the tiled wall.