athelstanthescribe | (no subject)

"Yes," Ragnar says. "Who minds if we return for the mid-day meal or dinner?"

He kisses Athelstan again, then lets go and picks up that pathetic little bundle of bones in his leather jerkin.

"We'll bring them back our catch, and they'll be pleased to see it for dinner."

He whistles to Fiachra, who stands up to follow, bringing the remains of his rabbit along.

"I can think of some good use we can put those hours to," Ragnar grins. "In addition to washing off the grime of digging."

"So can I." He glances innocently back over his shoulder. "Why do you think I suggested it?"

"Because nobody knows how long it'll take until we can sail to Ribe, and touch again," Ragnar grins. "So that'll make a few less hours you'll have to go without my hands touching your flesh, my teeth on your throat, and my prick within you."

Sometimes, he likes to say it out loud. It makes the fact more real, less set apart.

"Yes", Athelstan says, almost inaudibly on a breath. "And today, I want to take our time."

"We have time to wash the dirt off, and for me to touch you everywhere as we do it, in the sunlight," Ragnar says.

"And then something more. We could swim in the brook together."

"But only afterwards," Ragnar says. "The cold will scare our pricks away and make them retreat!"

"Yes, afterwards." He smiles, slantedly wicked. "To clean ourselves up again."

It's fun when Athelstan gets like this! He far too earnest and responsible most of the time.

"I'll do my best to get you really sticky," Ragnar promises.

Ragnar brings it out in him.

"And I want to tell - and show - you how you deserve how much I love you."

He knows a certain Biblical passage by heart that best explains his feelings.

That promise gets Ragnar to hurry along even more, confident that Athelstan can keep up.

Athelstan can keep up most of the time, whatever it is they're doing!

He can easily keep up with running, even with Ragnar's longer legs, and he does.

Soon, the cabin comes back into sight.

Their bags are still sitting by the door, and Fiachra, who is of course faster than either of them, is sitting next to them finishing his rabbit.

"Stay, Fiachra", Athelstan commands, just to be on the safe side though the dog seems to have no interest in doing anything else. Turning to Ragnar, "You said something about the sunlight...?"

"Oh yes," Ragnar says.

He puts the bones down with their bags, and then kicks off his shoes.

"There's this very inviting patch of bracken above that boulder," he says, and starts climbing up there.

Athelstan follows Ragnar's lead in removing his shoes, guessing that he'll need his toes free, and climbs after him.

Ragnar climbs up the rather steep boulder and then -- vanishes.

Athelstan blinks as he reaches the top, knowing there must be some optical illusion here but unable to pinpoint it.

"Ragnar?"

On top of the boulder is a little dell, like a nest, where moss and bracken grow.

Ragnar is lying in it, smiling invitingly at Athelstan as he reaches the top and can see over the edge of the stone.

Athelstan takes in the sight before him and smiles.

"No one would ever guess we were up here, even if they stood just at the bottom of the rock."

Ragnar folds his arms under his head and smirks at Athelstan with a come-hither look.

And so he does, pulling himself fully onto the boulder and scrambling into the dell to lie beside Ragnar.

Another deep kiss follows.

Ragnar's arms close around Athelstan as he returns that kiss as fervently as it is given.

"Take what's yours," he murmurs.