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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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Ragnar's hands go to Sinric's hips, to pull him close and hold him, all the better to lick deep, and strong.

Sinric arches sinuously, rolling his narrow hips in lazy thrusts into Ragnar's mouth. He takes one of Ragnar's hand and starts sucking his fingers, getting them good and wet.

Ragnar finally puts his lips around Sinric's little snail, and suckles it into his mouth. His hips buck up, in reaction to those very suggestive touches.

Sinric moans wildly around Ragnar's fingers, his tongue tracing spirals. His little snail is hard and eager, full in Ragnar's mouth.

Ragnar flails a little, suddenly desperate for friction of his own, but he keeps suckling strongly, lips closing on Sinric's soft skin.

Sinric can feel Ragnar's need mounting and arches his slender body back, reaching to wrap his clever fingers around the base of Ragnar's manhood tightly. Holding him back in exquisite torment.

Ragnar moans and pants and tries to move his hips, but keeps sucking. his tongue massages the underside of Sinric's tiny prick.

"Just so." Sinric purrs breathlessly as he draws Ragnar's fingers from his mouth, wet and warm. He presses it behind him, arching forward again to give Ragnar access to his rear. "Bring me to my fall and I will ride you to yours."

Ragnar slips a finger inside, probing, while his tongue works ever faster and stronger.

That is definitely a deal!

Sinric cries out, pure and beautiful under the perfect echoes of his room, bruising Ragnar's lips in his surge between the dual pleasures.

He reaches up to cup his own breasts, pinching his hard nipples in little spikes of pleasure/pain that make him tighten around Ragnar's finger.

Ragnar chuckles around Sinric's small manhood, and crooks his finger inside him.

That sends another spark of sharp-edged pleasure through him, his little manhood twitching against Ragnar's tongue. "Oh yes. Just so."

Ragnar does it again.

"Yes! Harder!" Sinric orders, pinching his nipples hot and red as he bucks into Ragnar's mouth. He doesn't usually reach the edge this fast but Ragnar knows how to play him perfectly.

Ragnar'S finger pushes back in, right where it feels best, and his tongue massages the underside of that eager little snail.

Sinric's voice comes at hot little gasps, half whimpering. "There! So near!" But the words are barely out before he's spilling warmly over Ragnar's tongue.

Ragnar keeps sucking, and swallowing, and moving his finger until he has drunk it all down.

Sinric shakes as he comes down, sensitive and blown. It never ceases to hit him so hard, so deep. He falls forward, hand braced against the head of the bed, his little manhood limp in Ragnar's mouth.

Ragnar lets go of it and smiles up into Sinric's eyes.

Sinric moved down to kiss him, chasing the taste of himself on Ragnar's swollen lips. He makes a soft, pleased sound, running a hand down Ragnar's chest and stomach to grip his manhood once more. "Shall I bring you to your fall? You've more than earned that reward."

"Yes," Ragnar pants, "yes please, sweet Sinric!"

"Would you have me ride you?" He asks, stroking Ragnar agonisingly slow. "Or would you have me on my knees, gripping the bedhead; deep and carnal?"

"Ride me," Ragnar moans, "ride me, have me, please!"

Sinric shift down and mounts Ragnar, still tight and hot. He drives himself down onto Ragnar's manhood with a rough moan. He wastes no time, rising on his thighs to take him again with the hot slap of flesh.

"Yes!" Ragnar gasps; and then he gasps and moans and babbles as Sinric rides him, up and down, with that sweet obscene noise.