Sinric the Wanderer

"I like seeing it while I'm not in the throes myself," Ragnar murmurs, grinning down at Sinric with a wink.

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Athelstan is good at compartmentalising, and it takes a lot to drive words away from him.

...but Sinric just found a way.

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And Sinric is by no means done with him. He slides his other hand between Athelstan's thighs, nudging his legs onto Sinric's shoulders.

As his mouth moves, pressing and sucking and licking, he slides a finger inside Athelstan, ever as his other hand fondles his balls and massages the area behind them.

He desires Athelstan's pleasure more than ever before, needing to prove to himself his skills as a lover outshine his battered nerve.

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Ragnar starts stroking Athelstan's chest and shoulders again with his large, rough, warm hands.

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Athelstan is left gasping by all of this, crying out in pleasure as if he can tell Sinric needs to hear it.

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He needs to hear it, needs to know it. Needs reminding that his worth is in his skill rather than the use of his body.

He buries himself in those cries, in those moans, in the view of Athelstan's flushed features and the smile of his lover.

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Ragnar runs his hands over Athelstan's chest, and kisses him again, deeply and sloppily.

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There's what might be a word in there, or might be Ragnar's name, but it's indistinct as Athelstan kisses him back with passion.

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Sinric has no need to hear his own name cried. Pleasure between them is right; as it should be. He needs only to know the pleasure is felt and at his hands.

He urges Athelstan forward, pushing him to the edge and holding him there. On the knife's edge of ecstasy.

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Ragnar loves seeing Athelstan's face like this.

His hands cover Athelstan's chest, and he smiles down into Sinric's eyes.

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Athelstan, as has been said before, loves to feel Ragnar's hands on him and his strength behind them.

Sinric is getting exactly what he wants.

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He has Athelstan on the edge but he won't take him over, not yet.

That honour shouldn't be his. He gestures to Ragnar, taking Ragnar's hand and guiding it to Athelstan's rear.

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Ragnar gets the idea and follows suit; his hand slides around Athelstan's opened thighs on the outside, his finger rubbing over the entrance to his body.

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Athelstan's teeth scrape over Ragnar's lip as they kiss, a sharp sound escaping him at the touch.

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Sinric hums happily, choking himself on Athelstan and sucking hard to bring him over and onto his release.

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Ragnar slides his finger inside Athelstan, thrusting deep inside to aim for that sweet spot.

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He finds it quickly, and there's a groan deep in Athelstan's throat as the two of them together push him over the edge.

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Sinric swallows and licks, kissing Athelstan's thighs to ease him down from the edge. "Beautiful." He whispers, looking up at them both.

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Ragnar pulls out his finger only once he is sure Athelstan is well and truly done, kissing him all the while.

"Thank you," he says to Sinric, smiling into his eyes.

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Athelstan is slowly remembering what words are.

"Yes. Thank you."

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"Hush." Sinric smiles and gets out of the way to let them embrace properly, sipping ale to cleanse his mouth.

He perches on the end of the bed, enjoying the view of the lovers as he nibbles on a strawberry. He lets the warmth of them soothe him. This was good and what he needed.

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Ragnar is kissing and stroking Athelstan through the afterglow, all his attention on his lover; he's not leaving Sinric out, but Athelstan in this state is so sweet and moving to him, especially this time, as he is more fully in control of himself than usually, when they find their peak together.

And from Sinric's reaction he can see that seeing them as a pair of lovers doesn't make him feel left out, it makes him feel safe.

He's far too concentrated on Athelstan, though, to wonder much about the odd and jarring mix of the sexual and the parental in their relationship with Sinric that turns up in this way once again. This, apparently, is how Sinric wants it.

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Athelstan does spare some glances for Sinric, checking on him, but what he sees quickly reassures him enough to send his attention back to Ragnar, and their kisses and touches.

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He sings for them then, and for himself; a soft, warm tune perfect for laying in lover's arms. His eyes half closed, he sings because it feels right, and because he enjoys it.

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