Athelstan of Lindisfarne (
athelstanthescribe) wrote2015-06-07 02:22 am
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For Sinric
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.
He stands aside to let Sinric in, the bathroom door standing open to reveal the huge sunken bath inside.
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He's getting it, as Athelstan tilts back a little in his pleasure, steadied only by his hand and Ragnar's on his knee.
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He leans forward, still thrusting, to kiss Sinirc's spine between the shoulder blades; but he looks up as not to lose sight of Athelstan, so lovely and moving in his pleasure.
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Perfect.
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Athelstan is being as gentle as he can, but his passion is rising and overtaking his thoughts.
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He won't be long now.
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{ooc: logging off, I swear!}
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Athelstan's hands tighten in his hair as he draws close to the edge, pulling hard.
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He spills, and spills, and spills some more, with great abandon; it takes a number of heartbeats until he is done.
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He feels Ragnar's release even with Sinric's body between them, and Sinric's pleasure more directly, and the two combine to push him over into peaking.
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He feels right, good. Filled and stretched and content. Their pleasure may have surmounted his own but his own pleasure to a wild and terrifying thing he can't face so soon. This is what he needed and they have giving it to him with such vigour and kindness. He purrs happily, clenching around Ragnar once more before kissing the inner curve of Athelstan's thigh.
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With that done, Athelstan slips back into the water to embrace Sinric, touching his face and hair.
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Athelstan kisses Ragnar as tenderly as he's holding Sinric.
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He has been shared so many times, and always those who share him need time to connect with each other too. He seeks out a cloth and the liquid soap, ready to wash them when they break from their moment.
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Athelstan lets his hand run over Sinric's skin in a gesture of thanks until he's out of reach, then moves fully into Ragnar's arms.
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"I love you," he whispers into the kiss. "Thank you for finding him in this way."
Sinric is still too close to even suggest aloud that there is more to tell. Bit Athelstan probably realises without Ragnar saying so, in so many words.
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"It was luck, as usual", Athelstan says with a smile into the kiss. "Or fate."
Efficiency in washing just means Sinric can have more time to enjoy the water when he's done.
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He spreads his legs a little to have Athelstan closer in the embrace, even though they are both sated.
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Still holding him as close when Sinric slips out, he then adds, in the same intimate tone, "That is Sinric the wanderer you found, a young Sinric about thirty years in the past, twenty before I am going to have met him in a tavern while away trading, where I would listen to his tales of rich lands in the west before giving in to my curiosity and bedding him. I know how to get that sweet little snail to raise its head from its shell in curiosity because he taught me! And when we parted, he gave me the sun-board and the sunstone."
Pause.
"Without him, I would not have come to England; without him, I would never have found you so I could love you; without him, neither of us would be who he is. We owe him, and the fate that threw him in our path, for everything we are and have. That is who he is."
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