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Entry tags:

athelstan,
ragnar

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{From here}

Sinric walks calmly till he is away from the bar and then runs. Something about Eric terrified him. Or thrilled him. Neither of which was good.

He ran till he came to a familiar door, Athelstan's. Having no place of his own and feeling that he owed Athelstan for interceding with Eric, he let himself in, meaning to wait for Athelstan's return to thank him.

He finds himself drawn to the window, sitting on the sill with his feet drawn up under him. He rests his head on his knee as he looks out over the lake, singing the elven song he learn this morning. The sound of it is soothing and he eases himself into a half doze.

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Ragnar pulls Sinric close, putting his lips on the nipple of one breast; then, he slides his hand around to Sinric's sweet rear, sliding a finger into the still slick cleft, but not inside yet.

Athelstan joins them, not sure what he'll do yet, but willing.

Sinric reaches for Athelstan, steadying himself as Ragnar touch and lips reduce his voice to a soft moan.

Ragnar now slips his finger inside Sinric's hole, pushing and exploring gently until he's in deep, and crooks the top of his finger.

His lips are still working on that nipple.

Athelstan wraps his arms around Sinric from the other side, giving him all the support he needs.

Sinric shudders and whispers something in Greek. He reaches for Athelstan, needing something to distract himself from the pleasure Ragnar is lighting within him.

Ragnar pushes in a second finger, scissoring them a little.

He starts kissing his way down Sinric's front, very slowly. He doesn't want to hurry Sinric.

Athelstan leans in behind him, kissing the back of his neck comfortingly.

His entrance is still slick with Ragnar's release and open for the taking. Nevertheless Ragnar's touch makes him hitch and gasp.

He reaches for Athelstan's hand, pulling it to his mouth to stifle his moans. He sucks on two of Athelstan's fingers, taking them into his mouth.

Ragnar reaches Sinric's navel, and gives it a little lick.

Athelstan gives over his hand for whatever Sinric wants to do, brushing his face with the free fingers of that hand.

The lick sends a little shiver through him, vibrating around Athelstan's fingers as he stifles himself on them. He would do better with Athelstan's prick if he could.

Slowly and warmly, Ragnar kisses his way down all over Sinric's lower belly, moving his fingers inside him all the while.

As he turns his head, now and then, he peers to see just how perky that little snail is yet.

Athelstan moves around them, gently nudging Ragnar just a little to one side without interrupting what he's doing or taking his fingers out of Sinric's mouth, until he's facing Sinric.

Sinric's eyes are wide and blown, his breathing rough as he pants around Athelstan's fingers. He's starting to harden under Ragnar's attention, whimpering softly.

Ragnar crooks his fingers again, rubbing and pushing inside Sinric.

After a few more kisses, he gives a very tentative lick to the tip of Sinric's tiny pricklet.

Athelstan watches this, with no jealousy but no little desire.

Sinric whimpers richly, hardening fast under Ragnar's licks and kisses. He pulls away from Athelstan's hand, pulling him into a kiss instead.

Ragnar licks at the tip of that little snail again, just tongue-tip to prick-tip, as he'd lick a woman's seat of pleasure.

Athelstan kisses Sinric deeply, a steadying presence giving much more familiar pleasures.

Which is exactly what Athelstan needs - something familiar to cling to. The little licks make him shiver and jerk, crying out softly.

Ragnar takes the tip of that pricklet between his lips, as he'd do with a nipple, and suckles softly.

Edited 2015-06-26 11:26 (UTC)

Athelstan's arms slip, only a little awkwardly, around Sinric as he keeps kissing him.

Sinric starts to keen softly against Athelstan's lips, unable to keep it on. He catches Athelstan's hands, guiding them to his wrists.

He wants to be held down, to have control and choice taken away so he doesn't have to fight the feelings Ragnar has kindled inside him.

Still suckling, Ragnar slips out his tongue a little and licks along the underside of that little prick, tongue-tip rubbing over the small scar.