For Sinric

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan's room is almost pathologically neat, the bed made and everything in its place.

He stands aside to let Sinric in, the bathroom door standing open to reveal the huge sunken bath inside.

Comments

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar chuckles, scooping up more foam to rub over Sinric's shoulders.

"We might even get into the water," he says. "Everything is full of bubbles!"

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric smiles and lets himself sink into the foam and the warm water. He ducks beneath the bubbles to wet his head, water and bubbles flowing down his golden hair as he rises like some lost Roman god or goddess of beauty. He sighs with the simple pleasure of being warm and clean, and being able to take his time about it.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan smiles at him.

"Surely they let you bathe in Constantinople?"

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar sprawls in the water with them.

Luckily, the bath is large enough for all of them lolling about like this.

"But they have no nice-smelling bubble baths in Miklagard, I am sure!" he says, smiling.

He suspects that Sinric can rarely bathe in peace, though, being just one of many pleasure-slaves of the emperor.

"Shall I wash your hair, Oriens? Athelstan can attest that I know how to do it."

[thewidewideworld]

"We have a bath house in the eunuch's quarters. Not a very big one. Just enough for two or three. But the water is cold unless we heat it ourselves. It's for cleansing ourselves, not for luxuriating in. The water is only changed once every few days. Better to wash in a bucket first. Easier to heat up."

"And bubbles, not like this." He smiles to Ragnar. "I'd like that very much. I confess, I'm a little vain about my hair."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Ragnar is very good at it", Athelstan promises. "You'll enjoy it."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Come here," Ragnar says, opening his arms to Sinric.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric goes to him gladly, a soft smile on his lips. "I have no doubt I would enjoy anything Earl Ragnar wishes to do for me." He presses himself to Ragnar's chest like a fluttering bird being held.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan leans back and watches him.

"Or to you", he murmurs, "with your consent."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Lie back over my arm," Ragnar says, offering a muscular left arm for Sinric to rest against. "Then your hair can trail into the water."

He's done this for Athelstan, and many, many times for Lagertha -- as she has for him. Aslaug has her maids, of course.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric does so, lithe and light as a bird, his hair flowing like a waterfall. "I place myself in your hand, lord earl."

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan smiles and makes his way over to lean against the wall near them.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar grins, takes a handful of foam, and daubs it on Athelstan's chest, just because he can and it's handy.

Then, he starts running his fingers gently through Sinric's hair, smoothing and stroking and loosening any tangles he may find, and softly rubbing his scalp.

It comes all back to him very easily.

He sometimes misses the times when Lagertha and he did these things together, when he washed his own clothes, or heated the bath water for the entire family.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's eyes slip closed, enjoying the feeling so very much. He moans softly, involuntarily. Pleasure sometimes isn't sexual. It just is.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan reaches to run his hand down Sinric's side, only touching, no pressure for anything.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"May I have the soap for washing hair?" Ragnar asks, quietly, of Athelstan.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric reaches for Athelstan, eyes still closed and enjoying the feeling. Of touch and being touches. Or being without pressure or expectation.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan takes his hand, fingers caressing his palm, and with the other hand passes the bottle to Ragnar.

"Best to keep your eyes closed", he says to Sinric. "You'll know how it can sting."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar puts a bit of the stuff on his hand, and works up a lather.

"Sit up a little so I can soap your hair," he then says, lifting his arm and starting to rub the rich, creamy foam into Sinric's hair.

There are so simple ways of spoiling and pleasing somebody...

[thewidewideworld]

He obeys as they instruct, trusting them perhaps more than he should and yet...

And yet he feels safer in their company than he can ever remember feeling, even with Constantine.

He tangles his fingers in Athelstan's, pulling him close.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan leans over and kisses him briefly and gently, an indicator that they only plan to take care of him.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar is gently working his fingers through Sinric's hair and scalp, holding him secure.

He looks at Athelstan with a small, loving smile, and blinks his eyes slowly once, like a cat, and hopes that Athelstan understands that Ragnar finds him quite marvellous, and loves him very much.-

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric purrs a little, like a cat himself as Ragnar washes him. He pulls Athelstan against him, wanting to feel the warmth of both of them.

One hand drifts down Athelstan's flank, cupping the curve of his rear. He finds himself aching to touch them.

[athelstanthescribe]

"You can", Athelstan whispers in his ear. "When the soap's washed away and you can open your eyes, you can do whatever pleases you."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"Lean back, so I can rinse out your hair," Ragnar says, moving his arm sideways again so Sinric's hair can easily float in the water.