slipping away with Ragnar

[thewidewideworld]

{From here}

Sinric leads Ragnar into the bathrooms, glancing around to see if anyone is around before slipping into one of the stalls and closing the door behind them.

"Do you want me to paint your prick with my lips or lift my skirts and take me standing?" He asks with a list-filled purr.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

"Samhain is not a Christian festive." Sinric answers pointedly as he lounges against Ragnar. "All Martyrs Day is but it's not celebrated for another two days."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"And as far as I can tell," Ragnar adds, "these Christian feasts exist to replace heathen ones that have always been at that time."

[witchfinder_general]

"I know," Father Harman says. "We never deny that. People need an order to their yearly cycles, provided by their faith. The rather regular rhythm of feast-days is owed to the Irish re-Christianisation of Europe after migration age; they brought the Celtic cycle of the year as a matter of course."

[thewidewideworld]

"Then why chide us for celebrating a heathen holiday with heathen delights?" Sinric teases, a warm, smug smile on his lips. "Ragnar is a heathen and I don't care for the ways of the church. Why should we not celebrate the dark with sex and sweets."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"I just wonder what Athelstan might think," Father Harman says, gravely.

Ragnar grins widely.

"He'll be so disappointed," he declares, "that he didn't get to join in, what with the bar meanly keeping him away whenever I am here. Or he'll roll his eyes at us being so annoyingly immature as to go and do it in a latrine where people can here. Athelstan is very cute when he rolls his eyes."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric giggles, covering his mouth with his hand. "Athelstan knows that Ragnar and I are lovers. As I am with Athelstan also. He would not be jealous. That is not how it is between us."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"And when the bar lets us come at the same time again," Ragnar says, "you'll sometimes find all three of us together in our bed, too. Or rather, you won't, but anybody who'd come looking for us in our room would. Or perhaps outside on that one rock, in summer. Or in the clearing, by the pond with the red waterlilies."

Father Harman shrugs. "I do get it," he says. "A threesome. How very heathen of you. I don't know if it's more likely for somebody to end up hurt than in a regular relationship; people get hurt often enough in those, too."

[thewidewideworld]

"Is the church not built on a trinity?" Sinric purrs, snuggled against Ragnar's side.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Father Harman rolls his eyes. "Whatever you do, please be careful of Athelstan; he's in a bad place at the moment, even literally."

"I know," Ragnar almost growls. "It's the one thing first and foremost in our minds -- how to help him, and how to get him out of there."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's usually sweet expression turns dark at that. "I know better how he suffers that you ever will" he spits the last words as he rises, hands flat in the table. "Don't you dare tell us how to care for him. When it was the minister of your church that did this to him."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Yes," Ragnar says, getting up as well, "a bishop. They are no good, and it's always a good idea to end one of them."

He grins, all fierce Viking.

"Let's go, Sinric."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods and turns on his heels, storming away from Father Harman with little regard to which way he's going. His lean frame vibrating with fury.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar hurries after him.

"What an idiot from the future!" he says. "To tell us about Athelstan, when he doesn't even know what love feels like!"

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nearly trips over the high heeled shoes in his haste and flails to catch himself before he falls.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar reaches for him, to steady him and pull him in his arms. "Sinric."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric shakes in Ragnar's arms, both in anger and in something else. He hides his face in Ragnar's tunic, trying to slow is too fast breathing.

Being told to mind Athelstan's trauma had brought his own memories to the forefront and he's fighting down a panic attack.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Breathe," Ragnar says, softly -- he knows about Sinric panicking, by now. "You are with me. You are safe. We should go and be alone right now."

[thewidewideworld]

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He whispers between ragged breaths. He nods at the suggestion of being alone, wanting to be away from the bar when he suddenly feels exposed and unsafe. "Please? I need to get out of-" the tight girdle isn't helping with his breathlessness.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"I love you," Ragnar whispers, pulling Sinric towards the stairs. "He's such an asshole."

On the first landing, out of the bar's eyesight, he'll at least help Sinric loosen his clothes so he can breathe.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric chokes a bitter laugh at that, his voice rough. "Righteous churchmen. All the same." It's a relief to breath easier and he hastens to their rooms to shed it all.

"I'm sorry, Ragnar. I thought I has control of my fears but-" he swallows a small sob, his breathing still a touch too fast

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Don't be sorry," Ragnar murmurs, kicking their door shut. "It's not something you can control, that is the point."

Pause.

"How about we lie in the furs and just cuddle?"

[thewidewideworld]

"Please." He shakes off the last of the complex undergarments, not minding that he tears the fine stockings, he just wants them off.

He lays down in the furs, welcoming the familiar feel of them.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar takes off his tunic and shirt, and lies down beside Sinric, taking him in his arms again. "Come here and have me as your pillow."

He gently strokes down Sinric's back.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric curls against him, drawing warmth from the press of Ragnar's hard body against him. Like a strong pillar that can support his weight, no matter what. "I'm sorry. I've ruined our evening." He closes his eyes, breathing in Ragnar's scent.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"You didn't," Ragnar says, stretching and puling at the furs, to snuggle down like bears in their winter cave. "The priest did."