runningred | (no subject)

Entry tags:

athelstan,
ragnar

(no subject)

{From here}

Jay leads them into his room. It's comfortably large and mostly taken up by benches and a decadent looking bed.

He pulls a fold out massage table out from under a bench and starts wiping things down to create a clean space to work. "Ragnar, I think it's best you go first. Have you decided where you want the receiver?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"No," Ragnar says with a chuckle, pretending to be shocked. "There isn't a word in the world you don't know. It must be the pleasure clouding your vocabulary."

"Maybe there isn't a word for it", he says, turning more serious and lying still now. "And I don't want to describe it."

Ragnar looks into Athelstan's eyes and kisses him deeply. "You don't have to."

"'Drive', might be the closest." He lies back, but the momentum's gone. "To do anything."

"No need to drive," Ragnar says, "if you can just float."

His kisses trail downwards again.

"Yes." He is just drifting, barely even responsive now.

Ragnar slowly kisses Athelstan's throat, not moving his hips for a moment.

Athelstan lets him, stroking slowly wherever his fingers touch.

Ragnar moves into the touch, giving a pleased little purring moan as he shifts his muscles underneath Athelstan's hands.

If it pleases him, Athelstan will keep doing it, but he's back in the place where he doesn't care on his own account what they do or don't do.

Ragnar notices, of course, so he just keeps kissing Athelstan, holding him close and covering him with his body, warm and firm.

Athelstan kisses him back. When they come up for air, "Unless you want more, let's just stick to this."

"We can," he says. "I like it. I love you."

That makes everything worth the while.

"And I, you."

Not wanting it to sound an automatic response, he puts every scrap of feeling he can dredge up into it.

"And that's more important than the rest of it," Ragnar says.

"It's important", he agrees, "but so are your wants."

And they both know how much Ragnar likes sex (and how much Athestan used to).

"What I really want..." Ragnar starts out, then stops, because he feels it sounds sappy.

Too sappy for even this moment, and, strangely, terribly demanding.

Because it's probably something Athelstan can't give him.

"What do you want?" he asks. "Tell me."

"For you to feel good," Ragnar says. "The rest is just sex."

"Ragnar." He sits up, but his head is bowed. "Most of the moments I've had when I really have felt good, have been with you."

"And if sex doesn't make you feel good any more at the moment, because of what happened," Ragnar says, sitting up with him and putting his arm around Athelstan, "then I'd rather do whatever else makes you feel good, one way or another, than just sex."

Pause.

"Because you."

That's not a sentence, but Ragnar hopes Athelstan understands nevertheless.

He half-smiles - and yes, he does.

"I'd let you even if I'm not feeling it, you know that. But it wouldn't be the same, and I don't know if it will be again."

"I can wait until it is," Ragnar says.

"If you can't, you can go to someone else. Aslaug or Sinric or - anyone. I won't mind."

"Sinric, here," Ragnar says. "That's different -- he has his place with us, and I sleep with him because he's Sinric. And one day, we will all be together again and share our bodies."