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Sinric stops to talk to a rat on the way up, drawing Ragnar up to his room.

He stops as he draws Ragnar through the door, closing it behind them and kneels to take off Ragnar's boots. Tending Ragnar with the gentle care he once tended Constantine.

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"Oooh," Ragnar says, collapsing in a graceless heap on the lovely floor, and thrusting his foot into Sinric's lap. "It tickles, but it feels so good!"

Sinric laughs and moves up to kiss Ragnar softly. "I didn't mean to knock you down. I forgot how ticklish you are."

"I wasn't knocked down," Ragnar says. "I dropped!"

Pout.

Kiss.

"Is that so?" Sinric grins, raking tickling fingers over Ragnar's ribs.

Ragnar kicks and flails and squeals at the sudden touch, squirming to reach for Sinric.

Sinric managed to dart in and out of Ragnar's grabbing range, tickling him every change he gets.

Ragnar flails about after him, flopping on the lovely tiles like a large knot of several startled snakes.

Sinric giggles and pounces, giving a cute little roar. He nips playfully at Ragnar's throat with rough kisses.

Ragnar bares his neck, in the gesture of a dog conceding defeat -- or a playful dog inviting cuddles.

Sinric gives a soft purr and licks the mark he left on Ragnar's neck.

"All yours," Ragnar purrs back. "Knocked over well and good."

Sinric grins and kisses him deeply and hungrily. "Victory!"

"You defeated the Viking!" Ragnar giggles.

"Victorious." Sinric growls warmly and kisses Ragnar again. "And my reward."

"Take it and claim it!"

"Naked. On my bed. Now." Sinric growls warmly.

"Yes," Ragnar says. "Aye, sir!"

Sinric grins and stalks over to the bed after him, leaning against a pillar to watch Ragnar undress. "Do you enjoy it, taking my orders?" He asks with a low, soft purr.

"Yes, I do!"

When Ragnar takes off his trousers, it's obvious quite how much he does.

Sinric gives a happy little grin and steps closer, spreading the palm of his hand over Ragnar's chest, stoking down slowly. Teasing.

Ragnar arches his back and gives a moan that is almost a purr, pushing towards Sinric's touch.

Planting that hand firmly, Sinric pushes Ragnar onto the bed, looking over him (in so much as Sinric can) and leans in to kiss him firmly.

Ragnar surges up into the kiss and reaches out for Sinric to pull him closer.

For such a small person, Sinric looms pretty expertly.

He lets Ragnar pull him in, catching one of Ragnar's wrists and pressing it to the mattress. He holds it there, kissing Ragnar as passionate as he did outside.

"I am yours!" Ragnar gasps. "Do with me as you want!"

The passion of the kiss is answered in kind.