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.

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[thewidewideworld]

Sinric smiles and seeks the oil in the nightstand, knowing they must have something to ease the way.

He settles behind Athelstan as Ragnar embraces him, pressing kisses down the curve of Athelstan's spine as he warms the oil between his own thighs.

He sings softly into Athelstan's skin as he slicks his long fingers, a sensual song that puts one in mind of fragrance incense and forbidden passions glimpsed through gauzy silk drapes.

Slowly he touches, massaging the oil into the skin around Athelstan's hole, coaxing the sensitive nerves to relax under his ministrations. He kisses Athelstan there, brushing his lips over the smooth skin above his most intimate portal as he begins to open him with gentle strokes.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar holds Athelstan and kisses him, watching Athelstan's eyes as Sinric starts touching him.

Having Sinric with them feels just so right.

Oh, how Sinric will laugh inside, many years in his personal future, when he finds a young and relatively clueless Ragnar in a tavern...

[athelstanthescribe]

His pupils dilate as Sinric starts to touch him, and he's visibly caught between moving forward into Ragnar's arms and back into Sinric's touch, since he can't do both.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric still sings, pressing kisses over Athelstan's flesh as he adds a second finger. He has a gift for this, for easing the way without discomfort. His fingers move within like dancers, moving apart and coming together to ease the path.

Finally he reaches the end of his song, knowing that Athelstan is slick and ready. Even the roughest handling would not cause him to ache wrongly now, not that he would fear that of Ragnar.

He kisses the curve of Athelstan's neck and whispers to him in the tongue of the Saxons. "Go to your lover. Revel in each other."

{ooc: goodnight lovelies.}

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar pulls Athelstan into his lap, his prick ready and eager; it needs no more than a nudge to find the entrance to Athelstan's body, so slick and open for him.

"Sit down on me," he murmurs to Athelstan, into the continuing kiss, "and turn us over once we are joined, if you want me to cover you; or ride me, if you'd rather."

Over Athelstan's shoulder, he smiles into Sinric's eyes.


[[OOC: Sleep well, Munnin, and see you in your morning!]]

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan settles into his embrace, taking Ragnar in easily thanks to Sinric's efforts, then turns them so he can more easily see Sinric and press up against Ragnar at the same time.

"Thank you, Oriens", he murmurs back in the same language, and extends a hand to him.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric lays down next to them, picking another song to sing as they tumble together. They are a pleasure to watch, fitting together perfectly, like two parts of a whole. He reaches out to touch them both, caressing and offering small kisses.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar smiles at Sinric, encouragingly, as he is touched; the he turns to once more kiss Athelstan deeply as his prick pestles in and out of the welcoming body.

Everything fits perfectly, slides smoothly, just so.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan is more than half convinced he and Ragnar are two halves, body and soul.

He tries to remember to include Sinric all the way, even as he focuses on Ragnar.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric sings on, a lilting, happy song of pleasure. He kisses and touches them both, very gently and easily. He doesn't feel left out or neglected, happy to bask in the warmth of their coupling.

He moves behind Athelstan and presses against his back, molding himself to his body. He reaches around, wrapping an arm around him to slide a hand between them, stroking Athelstan slowly.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar moves, smoothly and evenly, angling for the sweet spot within Athelstan's body with each thrust.

[athelstanthescribe]

Ragnar knows very well where it is, and Athelstan thrusts back against him, in between being pushed closer to Sinric.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric moves with Athelstan, graceful as a dancer anticipating the rhythm of their love-making. Because with them, he knows it is love-making.

He presses against Athelstan at just the right moments, with just the right pressure to keep him close to Ragnar, to keep their bodies aligned the the perfect angle.

His touch alternates between stroking and a grip on the base of Athelstan's prick that keeps him on edge and in the high of desire. His part is to bring their peak to the highest point together.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar slows down, wanting this to last as long as it can, for the peak to be as high and steep as it can be.

He reaches out to stroke Sinric's cheek, in acknowledgement of his presence, subtle and supportive though it is.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan wonders, in some corner of his mind, if Sinric has done something like this before. He seems to know what he's doing so well.

And then he drops the thought in favour of sensation, his head falling back as he rides Ragnar.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric turns his face into Ragnar's touch, kissing his palm and rubbing himself like a cat against the hard calluses of his fingers.

He kisses Athelstan's neck, whispering in his ear in the words of Athelstan's native tongue. "Look at him. See how he shines for you. His eyes like sunlight on the sea, for love of you."

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar smiles, as he understands the words as well; he smiles into Athelstan's eyes, as if to confirm Sinric's words.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan reaches out to him with one hand, and Sinric with the other.

"And I love him. With all I am."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric croons softly and kisses Athelstan's neck again, leaning in to steal a kiss from Ragnar and press them together. "Nothing more beautiful can ever be."

He eases back to let them be with each other completely, without the distraction of him. He begins to sing again, being to them a songbird as he lays back on the pillows.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

"As I love you, Athelstan," Ragnar says, in Saxon, starting to speed up his thrusts while smiling into his lover's eyes.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan lies back all the way now, drawing Ragnar with him, until his head is on the pillows near Sinric's legs.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric curls around to reach Athelstan, carding his fingers through Athelstan's hair as he watches them, still singing. His eyes meet Ragnar's for a moment and he smiles, a warm smile that while genuine, hides a sadness too.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar returns the smile, even some of the sadness; Sinric will have all the freedom, adventure and knowledge in the world, but for all Ragnar knows, he'll never have something like this.

He is thrusting into Athelstan, trying for true aim every time.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan shifts, his legs tightening around Ragnar's waist, to direct him as best he can.

He can't see Sinric's face, but he can see the look Ragnar gives him, and he understands.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric takes one of Athelstan's hands and holds it, his fingers carressing the smooth skin of his inner wrist. He closes his eyes, letting the passion of them wash over him, the race of Athelstan's heart in his pulse and the roughness of Ragnar's breath, the heat of the room and the scent of sweat and sex. All of it he takes into himself and makes it part of the song.