Ragnar can't help but chuckle softly as Athelstan continued to insist, for reasons Ragnar legitimately couldn't comprehend, that the shower wasn't the place to have sex.
"Why do you think that? Anywhere can be a place for sex," He snickered, interrupting himself by getting distracted, sucking on Athelstan's neck with a quiet moan, "But this is a very good place. We will be clean as soon as we are done. And the water makes things..."
He squeezed Athelstan's ass again, rocking his hips forward. As he relaxed his grip, he slid a finger teasingly over Athelstan's entrance.
Athelstan is more flustered the more Ragnar continues to touch him, his mouth against his neck sending a shudder through his body. His breathing is heavy as Ragnar's finger presses against him, the ring of muscle contracting slightly at the teasing, the sensitive nerves making it hard to concentrate on any words.
"This is meant for the bedroom," he manages to say, flustered and it's clear enough with their bodies pressed together, wet and slippery that he's aroused despite the light protest. He doesn't know why either that he doesn't simply give into this. He knows that sex can happen anywhere but there's an immodesty to places outside the bedroom that he hasn't quite started to cope with.
"Sex?" He practically purred the word into Athelstan's ear before sucking on his earlobe suggestively, stroking him at the same time. He was finding it incredibly amusing that Athelstan had decided to avoid using the word 'sex' all of a sudden.
"Like I said. It is a perfect place. Clean... wet... hot..." Alright, some of those attributes had nothing to do with how suitable the bathroom was for sex. But Ragnar was also pretty sure that Athelstan had walked in on him and Lagertha in both the stables and the kitchen before.
Athelstan can't help the moan that the word, the teasing sucking on his ear cause and Ragnar's hand makes it no easier to remain question. As usual it's always hard to argue with Ragnar about this, or anything for that matter. He had his own misgivings, the immodesty of it is different than having seen Ragnar do so with Lagertha.
The lack of confidence that trails Athelstan in the bedroom is compounded in places where intimacy is unfamiliar but all the same Ragnar is hard to resist when Athelstan so easily feels a burning need for him. "How is it perfect? It's slippery, when you're done then instead of simply laying and resting one must do a multitude of things," he counters and maybe he's being a bit contrary just to give Ragnar a bit of his own medicine.
It made sense. Athelstan still hadn't really had to deal with cleaning up after messy sex. Ragnar had always appreciated getting a little too close and then having sex while bathing with Lagertha, but showers seemed even better. Warmer, roomier.
"Maybe you should stop talking and let me show you?" He hummed, nudging his nose against Athelstan's playfully before pressing in for a heated kiss, immediately slipping his tongue into Athelstan's mouth suggestively with a low groan. At the same time, he eased the tip of his finger into Athelstan as he rocked his hips forward, now fully hard.
There's no room for arguing more when Ragnar kisses him. The question playing in the air still and he would let him, Ragnar has a way of getting Athelstan to eventually do just about anything he desires. Maybe this intimacy between them had taken two decades, give or take, but Athelstan had given into him as he had made so many concessions before.
Athelstan moans into the kiss, the other's tongue warm and wet and Ragnar's taste invading his mouth and he savors it as he kisses him back. His hands tighten around Ragnar when the other's finger teases him, their hips sliding together with each of Ragnar's movements, both of them hard and wanting. Athelstan feels the uncertainty of what exactly to do, what Ragnar wants from him. The battle of where to put his hands, how to move had been solved, mostly, in the bedroom setting and this was a new way of things but he tries not to think too much and to instead let his hands wander over Ragnar's chest and around to his back, hands easily moving over his skin slick with the warm water.
Ragnar seemed more than content with the simple fact that Athelstan was in his arms letting him kiss him and moaning in pleasure against his lips. One of the furthest things from his mind was what Athelstan was, or wasn't, doing with his hands. But if the monk paid attention, he might notice the way Ragnar pressed in a little closer and reacted to things by how forcefully he pressed in the kiss, the little subtle twitches, when his fingers traced over his old scars, the skin more sensitive in those spots.
With the hot water trickling over them and a bit of the slick soap still on Athelstan's skin, it was easy to patiently press a finger into him, moving it slowly a few times before adding a second. He was still a little overly cautious about moving too fast, ready to pause at the first inklings of discomfort from Athelstan. He hated that his thoughts went to Dodger and what he'd done as he reminded himself to take things a little slower than he otherwise might have.
Athelstan in contrast is doing everything he can to steer his thoughts away from any memory of Dodger and what he'd done. He's secure with Ragnar and at least physically, Dodger had not hurt him in any lasting way. He can focus on how good Ragnar's fingers feel as they press into him, quiet moans pressing against Ragnar's lips as they kiss, his nails digging lightly into Ragnar's skin. He's starting to notice the things that Ragnar likes, he's been learning for a long time now.
He tries not to think at all as his fingers trace of ridges of scars and the dips of muscles. There is no one that Athelstan more wanted to memorize every part of. For years he had drawn Ragnar, afraid to forget his face if he went too long without recreating it from his mind's eye.
"Ragnar," Athelstan whispers softly. "I want you." The words are hesitant and careful, as if still afraid of being rejected as irrational as it is when Ragnar is so clearly wanting.
Athelstan's words are met with another long, slow drag of Ragnar's tongue up the side of his neck punctuated with a light bite to his jaw. He eased his fingers out just as unhurriedly.
Then, in stark contrast, he turned Athelstan and pushed him forward slightly, bending him over so his upper chest was pressed against the smooth, shockingly cool tiled wall of the shower. Again, he teased his fingers over Athelstan's entrance, his other hand finding his wrist to guide the monk's hand up to press against the wall for balance. Nudging his legs further apart, he ground his hips forward against him as he bit down on his shoulder with low groan.
He pressed a kiss over the reddened skin he'd just bit down on, one hand going to Athelstan's hip, the other on himself as he very slowly eased into Athelstan, breath turning into soft, focused pants.
Athelstan isn't sure exactly what's happening right away even when Ragnar is pushing him, pressing his upper body into the cool wall, a shiver that Athelstan is sure isn't entirely temperature related going through him. There's a moment where what Dodger had done presses into the forefront of his mind but he pushes it back, trusting Ragnar as the other guides him, his fingers pressing firm against the shower wall. With all the water it doesn't feel like solid purchase but it's enough and Ragnar is pressed behind him, his body warm and hard. And Ragnar would have never let harm come to him by his own hand or by accident if he could help it.
He bites down on his lip when the other's teeth pressed into his shoulder, arching slightly and his face is flushed red in arousal and perhaps still some of the intimate modesty that still remains in him. His breathing is ragged, both anticipating and a little bit frightened -- not of Ragnar, but maybe more of himself of his own desires, fears of his own insecurity and inadequacies that would be made all the more clear somehow in this.
But then he feels Ragnar and his eyes close, his forehead pressing against the cool of the shower wall, his body tightening instinctively at first but he focuses on his breathing until that initial feeling passes. "Ragnar," the sound is a quiet moan, perhaps part of a longer sentence, swallowed feelings that he is too insecure to say out loud to him.
Ragnar paused when he felt Athelstan tense up, brushing a few kisses across his shoulder and the back of his neck while he waited for him to relax again. He pressed a firmer kiss to the back of Athelstan's neck when he felt him relax, easing his hips forward again, still just as slowly.
Pressing forward until his hips were flush against Athelstan, he stilled, now able to lean over Athelstan, nudging the side of his face with his nose and peppering a few light kisses to his cheek until Athelstan turned to meet his lips for a deep kiss, full of the same emotions Athelstan was feeling.
"Alright?" He mumbled softly against Athelstan's lips, unable to wait for an answer before stealing another kiss. He broke the kiss again to give Athelstan a chance to answer, fingers stroking over Athelstan's hip.
Everything about being with Ragnar is different. Not only in the obvious ways, the fact that his feelings for him are so deep and that Ragnar's care for him is obvious in every movement, every touch shared but it's a different position, it's not even in a bed. Most of all, it feel so much better, Athelstan wanting it with every part of himself, the shame and guilt of breaking his vows again forgotten for this moment where he gives into Ragnar; he'll keep giving into him and he'll pray that the Lord will understand somehow and forgive him.
He turned his head to meet his lips in the kiss, a quiet sound escaping into it and he almost thinks it wouldn't be the worst thing to say the words that were on the tip of his tongue. He can't help but know better, to know even if Ragnar felt the same he wouldn't likely say it back -- in so many whispered conversations he'd over heard he'd not once heard him say it to Lagertha. And Athelstan is not sure it wouldn't hurt if the words weren't returned even if expected. There's also the chance that Ragnar could push him away, turn him away. He can't take it.
His breathing is heavy when their lips part even if not for long. He sucks in another breath but he kisses him back just as hungrily as the one before. "Yes," Athelstan says simply and it's true and when it's out there he presses for another kiss, pushing back slightly.
With one hand firmly gripping Athelstan's hip, his other arm was wrapped around him, hand on Athelstan's jaw to keep him pulled into the kiss. Lips still pressed hard against Athelstan's, his groan was muffled as Athelstan pushed back against him. He slowly rolled his hips forward, almost not wanting to pull away in the least bit from Athelstan, wanting to keep contact, to keep touching him everywhere.
After rocking his hips shallowly a few more times, the desire for more felt like a burning need, that desire only slightly outweighing not wanting to disconnect with Athelstan in the least bit.
Pulling back a little further, he rocked his hips forward again with more force, breaking the kiss with a breathless moan and a sharp inhale that dissolved into soft panting as he tried to catch his breath, "Athelstan."
Athelstan kisses Ragnar back hungrily and full of desire that had been building for so long. He wouldn't have wanted to disconnect from the kiss even without Ragnar's hand on his jaw but he was pleased with the hold on him, just further adding to how wrapped up he felt in Ragnar. A moan slips from his lips into the other's again as their hips were rocking together a bit shallowly. It still felt good, better than good.
"Ah," the gasp came out when Ragnar thrusts back in more intensely than before, Athelstan's muscles tightening for a moment. He couldn't help but push back against the other, his hand grasping at the wall which doesn't give him much purchase. "Ragnar, that feels good."
Ragnar slid his hand from Athelstan's hip, feeling him start to meet him. He could think of a much better thing to do with that hand. Kissing Athelstan a little harder, he wrapped his fingers around Athelstan's cock, starting to stroke him firmly in sync with his thrusts.
He half hummed, half moaned in agreement against Athelstan's lips, dragging him back into a kiss before he could actually answer.
Athelstan is easily lost in the kiss then, as the other touches his cock, hard and aching and moans are heavy against Ragnar's mouth. Athelstan's cheeks are flushed red, a mixture of the still flustered embarrassment at being vulnerable this way with Ragnar, some place new again and also just the act itself bringing a rich flush to his complexion. The strength of how deeply he feels for Ragnar is still right there on the surface, the tip of his tongue and he's grateful for the kiss that keeps the words from falling out in a confession that he doesn't think either of them are ready for, even Athelstan after so many years of feeling it. Ragnar is still so young and Athelstan is frightened that somehow he might be rejected, that he will at some point not be good enough to deserve him.
He feels torn between pressing his hips back into Ragnar's as the other thrusts and forward into the hand that's wrapped around his length that's already starting to leak pre-come pushed so close by the feeling of Ragnar inside of him, closer physically than they have been before. It felt better than he had been able to imagine, perhaps it's because it is, after all, Ragnar who he had wanted all along. He breaks from the kiss, sucking in a few full breaths, his breath coming in pants as he bites at Ragnar's bottom lip briefly before pressing another kiss to his lips.
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"Why do you think that? Anywhere can be a place for sex," He snickered, interrupting himself by getting distracted, sucking on Athelstan's neck with a quiet moan, "But this is a very good place. We will be clean as soon as we are done. And the water makes things..."
He squeezed Athelstan's ass again, rocking his hips forward. As he relaxed his grip, he slid a finger teasingly over Athelstan's entrance.
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"This is meant for the bedroom," he manages to say, flustered and it's clear enough with their bodies pressed together, wet and slippery that he's aroused despite the light protest. He doesn't know why either that he doesn't simply give into this. He knows that sex can happen anywhere but there's an immodesty to places outside the bedroom that he hasn't quite started to cope with.
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"Like I said. It is a perfect place. Clean... wet... hot..." Alright, some of those attributes had nothing to do with how suitable the bathroom was for sex. But Ragnar was also pretty sure that Athelstan had walked in on him and Lagertha in both the stables and the kitchen before.
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The lack of confidence that trails Athelstan in the bedroom is compounded in places where intimacy is unfamiliar but all the same Ragnar is hard to resist when Athelstan so easily feels a burning need for him. "How is it perfect? It's slippery, when you're done then instead of simply laying and resting one must do a multitude of things," he counters and maybe he's being a bit contrary just to give Ragnar a bit of his own medicine.
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"Maybe you should stop talking and let me show you?" He hummed, nudging his nose against Athelstan's playfully before pressing in for a heated kiss, immediately slipping his tongue into Athelstan's mouth suggestively with a low groan. At the same time, he eased the tip of his finger into Athelstan as he rocked his hips forward, now fully hard.
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Athelstan moans into the kiss, the other's tongue warm and wet and Ragnar's taste invading his mouth and he savors it as he kisses him back. His hands tighten around Ragnar when the other's finger teases him, their hips sliding together with each of Ragnar's movements, both of them hard and wanting. Athelstan feels the uncertainty of what exactly to do, what Ragnar wants from him. The battle of where to put his hands, how to move had been solved, mostly, in the bedroom setting and this was a new way of things but he tries not to think too much and to instead let his hands wander over Ragnar's chest and around to his back, hands easily moving over his skin slick with the warm water.
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With the hot water trickling over them and a bit of the slick soap still on Athelstan's skin, it was easy to patiently press a finger into him, moving it slowly a few times before adding a second. He was still a little overly cautious about moving too fast, ready to pause at the first inklings of discomfort from Athelstan. He hated that his thoughts went to Dodger and what he'd done as he reminded himself to take things a little slower than he otherwise might have.
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He tries not to think at all as his fingers trace of ridges of scars and the dips of muscles. There is no one that Athelstan more wanted to memorize every part of. For years he had drawn Ragnar, afraid to forget his face if he went too long without recreating it from his mind's eye.
"Ragnar," Athelstan whispers softly. "I want you." The words are hesitant and careful, as if still afraid of being rejected as irrational as it is when Ragnar is so clearly wanting.
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Then, in stark contrast, he turned Athelstan and pushed him forward slightly, bending him over so his upper chest was pressed against the smooth, shockingly cool tiled wall of the shower. Again, he teased his fingers over Athelstan's entrance, his other hand finding his wrist to guide the monk's hand up to press against the wall for balance. Nudging his legs further apart, he ground his hips forward against him as he bit down on his shoulder with low groan.
He pressed a kiss over the reddened skin he'd just bit down on, one hand going to Athelstan's hip, the other on himself as he very slowly eased into Athelstan, breath turning into soft, focused pants.
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He bites down on his lip when the other's teeth pressed into his shoulder, arching slightly and his face is flushed red in arousal and perhaps still some of the intimate modesty that still remains in him. His breathing is ragged, both anticipating and a little bit frightened -- not of Ragnar, but maybe more of himself of his own desires, fears of his own insecurity and inadequacies that would be made all the more clear somehow in this.
But then he feels Ragnar and his eyes close, his forehead pressing against the cool of the shower wall, his body tightening instinctively at first but he focuses on his breathing until that initial feeling passes. "Ragnar," the sound is a quiet moan, perhaps part of a longer sentence, swallowed feelings that he is too insecure to say out loud to him.
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Pressing forward until his hips were flush against Athelstan, he stilled, now able to lean over Athelstan, nudging the side of his face with his nose and peppering a few light kisses to his cheek until Athelstan turned to meet his lips for a deep kiss, full of the same emotions Athelstan was feeling.
"Alright?" He mumbled softly against Athelstan's lips, unable to wait for an answer before stealing another kiss. He broke the kiss again to give Athelstan a chance to answer, fingers stroking over Athelstan's hip.
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He turned his head to meet his lips in the kiss, a quiet sound escaping into it and he almost thinks it wouldn't be the worst thing to say the words that were on the tip of his tongue. He can't help but know better, to know even if Ragnar felt the same he wouldn't likely say it back -- in so many whispered conversations he'd over heard he'd not once heard him say it to Lagertha. And Athelstan is not sure it wouldn't hurt if the words weren't returned even if expected. There's also the chance that Ragnar could push him away, turn him away. He can't take it.
His breathing is heavy when their lips part even if not for long. He sucks in another breath but he kisses him back just as hungrily as the one before. "Yes," Athelstan says simply and it's true and when it's out there he presses for another kiss, pushing back slightly.
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After rocking his hips shallowly a few more times, the desire for more felt like a burning need, that desire only slightly outweighing not wanting to disconnect with Athelstan in the least bit.
Pulling back a little further, he rocked his hips forward again with more force, breaking the kiss with a breathless moan and a sharp inhale that dissolved into soft panting as he tried to catch his breath, "Athelstan."
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"Ah," the gasp came out when Ragnar thrusts back in more intensely than before, Athelstan's muscles tightening for a moment. He couldn't help but push back against the other, his hand grasping at the wall which doesn't give him much purchase. "Ragnar, that feels good."
It almost feels embarrassing to say.
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He half hummed, half moaned in agreement against Athelstan's lips, dragging him back into a kiss before he could actually answer.
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He feels torn between pressing his hips back into Ragnar's as the other thrusts and forward into the hand that's wrapped around his length that's already starting to leak pre-come pushed so close by the feeling of Ragnar inside of him, closer physically than they have been before. It felt better than he had been able to imagine, perhaps it's because it is, after all, Ragnar who he had wanted all along. He breaks from the kiss, sucking in a few full breaths, his breath coming in pants as he bites at Ragnar's bottom lip briefly before pressing another kiss to his lips.