Sinric the Wanderer (
thewidewideworld) wrote2015-08-24 08:29 am
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Ragnar's return.
Their rooms are as Ragnar found them - clean but recently slept in, to the point that Athelstan's robe still hangs on the back of a chair.
Sinric is quick to tidy it, straightening the bed and hanging thing back where they belong with a servant's practiced hand.
"Let me run a bath for us." He smiles, brushing his hair back into a loose braid.
Sinric is quick to tidy it, straightening the bed and hanging thing back where they belong with a servant's practiced hand.
"Let me run a bath for us." He smiles, brushing his hair back into a loose braid.
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He makes sure he washes his hair as well, and soap his feet. While he does so, he bends over, wet hair sliding loosely over his back.
He's probably presenting quite the spectacle to Sinric as well.
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Athelstan's needs have called for care and gentle handling and Sinric doesn't begrudge him that at all. But Sinric can't help but crave lusty need and the firm handling of a strong man.
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There's a lot of grime on there. Also, the foam will enhance the look of his muscles.
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He takes the cloth with a soft smile and starts washing Ragnar, following the curves and lines of those muscles.
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"I'm so much less smelly already," he says, reaching out to touch the tip of one of Sinric's nipples. "I can touch you again without besmirching your pale skin with sweat, soot, kiddie snot and goat shit."
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Until Ragnar touches him, then there's no way of hiding his desire. "Athelstan told me how you like to raise abandoned goat kids. Such a gentle heart under all this." He splays his hand over Ragnar's chiseled pecs, teasing a nipple in return.
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"Goats are good animals," he says. "Content with much less than cows. A child can manage them, and baby goats are just about the sweetest creatures. Of course I make sure to raise them, at least the female ones."
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He leans back into the touch, grinning. His own horniness is starting to show.
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Sure now Ragnar is mostly clean, Sinric struts past him to the bath, kneeling to check the water again.
He normally doesn't like to have people at his back but this is Ragnar and all his senses feel that and don't open themselves to fear. He glances over his shoulder, smiling invitingly.
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"What a very nice prospect," he says, smiling at Sinric.
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His words and the heat of his expression are an invitation to Ragnar and an experiment for himself. He needs to feel this, and for Ragnar to understand what it means to him.
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"Your body and soul," he whispers, "are safe in my hands. But tell me at once if you really need me to stop. Say 'really', and I'll stop."
Yes, he understands about the experiment.
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In fact he leans back, looking up at Ragnar. "I will. Thank you." His words are barely enough to carry the gratitude he feels.
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He throws himself into the kiss, and pulls Sinric even closer while his big, rough hands massage the lush, pink nipples. His rising prick nudges at Sinric's buttocks.
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His nipples turn hard as diamond under Ragnar's ministrations, the swell of his breasts aching with need.
He doesn't press back against the swell of Ragnar's prick, not yet. Still needed a little coaxing past a fear that has lingered in him for some years now.
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He keeps kissing Sinric, warm and lovingly, as he is wrapped around the slighter, pliant body from behind.
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The heat of Ragnar, the clean smell of him, the feel of his muscles, the love in his kiss - all of these contribute to ease the tention out of his thoughts and he presses back a little against Ragnar's prick, letting it slips between his creamy buttocks.
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"Sinric," he murmurs.
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