For Athelstan

[onceaviking]

His room is neat.
The laptop is switched on, the decanter in the low table has been refilled with wine, the bed is made.

He turns on the light as they enter and turns to look at Athelstan.

Comments

[athelstanthescribe]

He shivers and spreads his legs without thinking about it.

"Then be careful."

[onceaviking]

Eric makes another, throaty sound and reaches down to guide himself into Athelstan.
He is less worried about hurting him now, when he can smell his own blood on him, in him.

Still, he murmurs, "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you," like no time had passed at all and Athelstan was just the girl minding the goats. And he was the King's son.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan trusts him, but saying so seems... foolish, somehow. It's the trust of prey that an intelligent predator won't go beyond their agreement.

"You have so far", he says hoarsely, lifting his hips to meet him, and licks the last of the drying blood off his hand.

[onceaviking]

Eric growls softly and starts thrusting, returning his lips to Athelstan's neck.
He can tell that the blood is working. And perhaps Athelstan can tell it too.

[athelstanthescribe]

He can feel it flowing through him, giving him fresh strength and heightening every sensation.

"Soon", he says on a groan. "Soon, you can have more."

[onceaviking]

Eric seems to like the sound of that, judging from the sounds he is making.
His hands begin to roam Athelstan's body.

[athelstanthescribe]

The sounds are arousing in their own way, the hands even more so, and Athelstan is getting hard again.

His own hands start to stray, one over Eric's skin, the other going to wrap around himself while he matches Eric's rhythm of thrusts.

[onceaviking]

"You are so warm," Eric whispers, stickily, in his ear.
"So alive. So tight."

[athelstanthescribe]

He clenches involuntarily around Eric just as he says those words.

"You wanted... words that break me apart. I don't... know the words for that, but you... this..."

[onceaviking]

A pleased purr.

He still got it.

"I want you. I desire you. "

Lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper.
"I need you."

It's not true, but it is a lie everyone likes.

[athelstanthescribe]

It might not be true generally but here, in this moment, Athelstan has no trouble believing it. He's the one who's there, and he knows how Eric feels about the taste of his blood. And who doesn't want to be wanted and needed?

"I want you", he echoes in a near-whisper. "Eric... hard, fast, I want you."

What he's asking for without the vocabulary to express it, what he's been used to all his life in every other way and unconsciously wants from a sexual partner as well, is to be dominated.

[onceaviking]

And everything about Eric plays into that. His size, his strength, the way he overpowers and overwhelms.

He increases his pace and speed even as he lowers his head to whisper in Athelstan's ear, "You want me to take you. To fuck you."

[athelstanthescribe]

"Yes", he says, voice rough with desire. "Yes. And drink."

[onceaviking]

And Eric bites down on him again, hungrily, as he tightens his grip on him.

Takes him.

[athelstanthescribe]

He cries out as the two sensations together overcome him, arching against Eric with all his strength.

[onceaviking]

It's like moving against a boulder. Unyielding.
Cool.
Firm.

Eric presses him down on the bed and reaches down to grab hold of his hip and tilt it.
There.

[athelstanthescribe]

"Yes", he repeats, over and over, as Eric sinks into him as deep as he'll go. "Yes."

[onceaviking]

And Eric presses his bloodied mouth to Athelstan's neck and increases his pace, willing him to come. To let him taste it in his blood.

[athelstanthescribe]

It isn't much longer after that before Athelstan shouts out - Eric's name, this time, not Ragnar's, and his whole body is racked with the force of his orgasm.

[onceaviking]

The taste -

Eric swallows, once, twice, and then he bites his tongue and licks Athelstan's skin, tightening his hold on him at the same time.

They're vulnerable right after release. Humans. It's the right time to give the impression of gentleness. Care.

[athelstanthescribe]

Real or fake, it's a good enough impression.

Athelstan sags against him, having given all he can for one day.

[onceaviking]

Eric runs his lips along his jawline and kisses his eyes.
Still holding him tightly.

[athelstanthescribe]

He opens his eyes after a while, tiredly blinking up at Eric.

[onceaviking]

Eric's lips and chin are wet with blood. His hair is tousled.
He runs a hand through it, but it helps very little.

Then he touches Athelstan's cheek.
"You okay?"

[athelstanthescribe]

He's not sure how much of that blood is his, and how much is Eric's own from closing his wounds, and it doesn't seem to matter.

"Just... need to rest. I can go back to my room..."