uhtr1d

[uhtr1d]

uhtred - the last kingdom

[uhtr1d]

He'd endured a lot in the last few years, but gods had it been easier with Finan by his side. He'll never be thankful for an experience like that, not his or the others, but he's thankful to have found him - it's as if fate had brought them together that day. If he was never to get his home back, never to succeed, even if he had no intentions of failing - he'd rather be spent to Valhalla before he did, he still had Finan. There were very few men that could consider themselves lucky enough to have someone so loyal by their side.

Uhtred had watched plenty of men betray one another be it kings, lords or those of the Dane's, but it had never been something he had to give a second thought. " - and when I first met you my first thought was.. by the end of this I will understand everything he is saying. " He grinned as he finished speaking, but of course he couldn't help but tease him - even more so now than ever before.

He'd trusted him enough to tell him how he'd ended up on that ship and Uhtred would hold that information close to his heart, but he could tease him with that title now he knew and Finan shouldn't have expected anything less from him. His gaze quickly drops to the chair and then back to the other, a smirk present on his lips because of course he can't hide it. " But I am not a prince, you are. Prince Finan. " There's a small snort, lips pressed tightly together. " That means you are more important than me, yet you let me tell you what to do. I will keep it in mind. "

They were equals, he'd said it before and now there was proof of it. Finan would have been respected had others known, more so than Uhtred was or ever would be. He reaches out to take him by the wrist so he can tug him in the direction of the door and then outside, only then does he let go - but not because he wants to. " I just hope Sihtric has not drunk the tavern dry by now. "

Equally,  neither  is  Finan.  He’s  never  been  one  to  soothe  with  platitudes,  to  go  along  with  something  just  because  he’s  told.  And  maybe  that  was  the  initial  problem,  and  part  of  what  got  him  in  trouble  to  begin  with  —— but,  too,  it’s  been  what’s  kept  him  alive,  and  what  makes  them  all  work  so  well  together.  He’s  unafraid  to  tell  Uhtred  when  he  thinks  something  is  foolish  or  too  reckless,  and  equally  he  takes  being  called  out  on  his  own  mistakes.  It’s  only  something  that  works  because  they  all  trust  each  other  so  much,  but  work  it  does,  and  he  would  expect  no  different  here;  if  he’d  been  soothed  or  told  it  wasn’t  his  fault,  it  would  have  felt  —— not  genuine  to  who  they  are.  

And  so:  he  smiles,  wry.  "  Your  very  own,  "  he  says,  and  their  fingers  curl  together  tight.  "  But  I  was,  an’  I’ll  tell  you:  I  was  in  that  hell  for  years  before  you  came,  an’  you  weren’t  the  first  t’try  to  run.  But  y’were  the  first  I  thought:  that’s  the  man  who’ll  make  it.  "  The  amount  of  people  he’d  seen  try,  fail,  and  either  die  bloody  or  in  the  water  or  end  up  suffering  worse  until  they  were  broken  enough  to  not  try  again  —— it  haunted  him,  once,  that  he  didn’t  try:  but  he’s  not  a  fool,  and  he’s  a  survivor,  and  he  knows  where  that  would  have  ended.  

"  And  mine  yours,  an’  you  know  that.  "  Reduced  to  nothing,  they  were,  and  they  rebuilt.  They  fought  their  way  out  of  there,  survived  by  both  luck  and  fate  — and  no  matter  what  happens  out  here  — the  good,  the  bad,  the  victories,  the  setbacks  —  they  do  it  as  free  men.  But:  he’s  also  relieved  to  let  it  go  into  something  lighter.  "  Now  that  plan,  "  he  says,  with  some  plain  relief,  "  is  the  best  one  you’ve  had.  "

And  at  being  called  prince,  he  sits  up  a  little  straighter  and  chases  him  with  a  point  of  a  finger.  "  Oi,  "  but  Uhtred  is  already  turning  away,  and  he  pushes  up  from  where  he’s  sitting;  the  chair  tips  over,  and  he  — manages  to  look  flustered  for  a  second,  but  he  picks  it  up,  holds  a  hand  up  at  it  as  though  by  commanding  it  to  stay  upright  it  will,  and  hurries  after.  "  No.  You  start  that,  "  and  oh,  but  there’s  a  note  of  warning  —— a  playful  one,  to  be  certain,  but  a  warning  regardless,  "  an’  we’ll  see  how  many  who  has  more  bloody  titles  to  be  annoyin’  at.  "

[uhtr1d]

It feels like he'd be doing him a disservice if he looked away to avoid looking at the scars on his back, they're much the same as his own and only for a moment does he allow himself to travel back to that ship. He can't think on it for long, not where Finan is involved, if he does he'll anger quickly so he pushes the thoughts away and focuses his attention on him again when he speaks, brow raised as he watches him stuff it under his pillow. " Half empty? " There's a smirk on his lips when he says it and its tempting to tease but his lips are on his before he can.

He's not used to letting somebody else take charge and he wouldn't allow it but it's Finan and that makes it different, the trust is there just as it had been from day one. " Mhm, " His response is muffled against his lips and he wants to keep the kiss going but then it's broken despite his chasing it. His hips give a small jerk when his hand is gone - cock hard, gods, he hadn't realised just how hard he was but he presses himself to Finan's belly for some relief as he feels fingers wandering. " I think you will know, but I'll tell you. "

Thighs spread when he's nudged with his knee and his hips tilt up ever so slightly when he feels his finger press inside slowly. Eyes shut and he breathes in as he gets used to the sensation and there's a warmth that spreads to his abdomen. It's intimate, this is all more intimate than he's used to and he's trying not to let a sound leave his throat but a slightly hitched breath does.

" You have surprisingly gentle hands for a man that swings his sword around all the time. " There's a smirk on his lips as he says it and a playful tone in his words, body quickly getting used to the intrusion - thighs falling a little further apart. " It is good, keep going - " He's not too eager in his movements he's trying to ensure Finan has full control because he knows he's the one that isn't used to this, but he gently pressed down onto his finger for a little more, breath hitching again and it almost pulls a moan from his throat. " Where - why half a bottle? " It's also easier to talk too much because he's good at that. " What did you do with the rest? "

"  You’re  goin’  to  ruin  me,  "  he  breathes  with  a  laugh,  and  the  notion  is  daunting,  a  little.  Welcome,  certainly,  but  perhaps  he’s  a  little  more  optimistic  about  his  chances  of  seeing  that  all  the  way  through  when  there’s  a  hand  on  his  cock  than  he’d  be  otherwise.  But  he’s  game  to  try,  and  he  groans  softly  as  he  rocks  into  the  stroking  hand;  the  idea  makes  his  cock  give  a  little  jerk,  stiffening  readily  and  eagerly.  At  least  now  he’s  not  so  tempted  to  get  lost  in  it;  it  feels  good,  but  there’s  no  immediate  need  for  release.  "  Aye,  works.  If  we  did.  "

The  question,  though,  that  makes  him  pause,  his  brows  knit.  "  Sounds  like  a  start  to  a  joke,  "  he  says,  and  then  thinks,  his  brows  furrowing  down.  "  Here  ——  "  And  his  hand  drops  to  still  the  hand  stroking  him,  briefly,  and  he  moves  so  he  can  find  his  mess  of  clothes  on  the  ground  — which  also  puts  the  mess  of  scars  on  his  back  on  display.  But  he’s  not  thinking  of  that  — instead  rooting  through  his  things,  his  pack,  and  after  a  moment  surfaces  with  a  half-empty  bottle,  and  he  looks  smug;  he  rolls  back  over,  stuffing  it  under  his  pillow,  and  kisses  Uhtred  hotly,  only  uttering  a  grinned,  "  Now  I  do,  "  against  his  mouth  before  claiming  it.

But  now  that  the  question’s  been  answered,  he’s  more  confident;  hands  roam,  palms  a  little  rough  to  the  touch.  His  fingers  drag  over  Uhtred’s  cock,  balls  to  tip,  gives  him  a  couple  strokes,  and  then  lets  them  wander  further.  He  squeezes  his  thighs,  his  ass,  and  lets  his  fingertips  tease  at  him  without  pressing  in  before  moving  on  again.  He’s  not  precisely  taking  his  time,  but  nor  is  he  rushing  —  he  knows  Uhtred,  and  maybe  it’s  not  intimately  like  this,  but  he  knows  him  and  he  breathes  passion  and  intensity  in  everything  he  does.  

"  I’ll  use  my  fingers  first,  "  he  breathes  after  it  breaks,  snatching  up  the  oil  he  stuffed  under  the  pillow.  "  So  it  doesn’t  hurt.  Okay?  "  And  he  pours  some  on  his  hand,  and  it’s  slick.  "  'll  need  you  to  tell  me,  "  and  he  nudges  a  knee  between  Uhtred’s  thighs,  and  this  time  that  circling  finger  does  press  in,  slow  — and  now  he  is  careful,  because  he’s  said  he’s  never  done  this  before,  "  when  it  feels  good.  "

[uhtr1d]

He feels guilt, terrible guilt, but he would be lying if Finan being afraid of this, of his death, didn't give him reason to feel a little content. He doesn't want to be lying here, he feels weak and useless, but that confirmation forces home that they're secure - their vulnerable and there are no longer walls that stood between the two of them. He knows he can do the same even if allowing himself to be such can be difficult at times.

He tries not to laugh as he goes to drink but stops to raise a hand so he can cough and splutter into the back of it when he laughs. Only when he recovers does he find it in him to speak. " - and if it were you here I would be no different, but while I am as pale as a priests arse I need you to be my eyes, I do not trust anybody else do it. " Someone had to keep his men's spirits up whilst he was stuck here recovering - at least he hoped that was what he was doing here. " Sleep here if it is comfortable enough. I would rest easier. " He'd let him share his bed but again, eyes were watching and people would talk - but having Finan close by made him feel safer and he could keep an eye on him when he did wake.

It's not a surprise that he's tried it and for now Uhtred doesn't say anymore - he's only putting of tasting it and the smell has lingered under his nose long enough. His fingers are on the cup as are Finan's and he tips it so he take a small sip, his nose wrinkled before swallowing a few mouthfuls and pushing it away. " It is still terrible. " It sits in his throat for a short while before the aftertaste is gone and he can't miss the chance to poke at him a little. " - and your taste in ale is terrible. "

He's cold again and he's pulling up the sheets trying to get comfortable without moving too much. Then his eyes are back on Finan though they never left him for long. Uhtred lingers for a moment, thinks before he speaks which in itself is a rarity. Maybe he's just sick enough to let it take influence or it's a near brush with death that's forced it to the forefront of his mind. " Finan, I need to tell you something and then you're going to sleep. "

He  doesn’t  see  himself  as  a  caretaker  by  nature  — a  warrior,  sure,  and  a  protector,  perhaps.  But  he  was  also  very  much  like  this  on  the  ship,  too,  and  not  just  with  Uhtred.  "  Then  I  will  look  forward  to  makin’  up  for  it  when  you  can,  "  and  god,  but  he’s  trying  to  have  hope.  He  has  to,  because  he  can’t  think  of  what  it  would  be  like  otherwise.  Their  lives  are  full  of  risk  — they  fight  bloody,  vicious  fights,  kill  or  be  killed,  and  though  they  are  skilled  all  it  takes  is  a  stray  arrow  or  a  slipped  blade  and  it’s  over.  But  it  feels  unfair  for  this  to  be  the  closest  brush  to  it  that  they’ve  felt  — so  unfair  that  he  can’t  fathom  that  it’ll  be  the  end.  

And  —— god,  he  really  would  lay  that  ultimatum,  wouldn’t  he?  The  look  he  gives  him  dances  between  stressed  and  exasperated,  and  that’s  likely  made  worse  by  how  tired  he  is.  He  knows  Uhtred’s  right  — he’s  doing  them  no  favors,  and  with  Uhtred  ill  and  recovering  (  because  he  is  recovering,  he  won’t  think  otherwise  ),  if  anything  fell  on  them  here  he’d  have  to  be  the  one  making  calls.  Him  being  on  the  edge  of  sheer  exhaustion  is  doing  no  one  any  favors.

"  I’ve  been  afraid,  "  he  says,  frankly,  quietly.  They’ve  never  hid  much  from  each  other,  and  he  won’t  start  now.  It’s  not  something  he’d  admit  to  many  others,  but  with  Uhtred,  he  doesn’t  feel  shame  in  it  — and,  perhaps,  things  are  looking  up  enough  that  he  doesn’t  feel  like  admitting  it  is  a  curse  enough  of  its  own.  "  But  I  swear  it,  once  you  are  asleep,  I’ll  try.  They  said  you’re  doin’  well,  even  if,  "  and  he  smiles  faintly,  a  little  teasing,  "  y’still  look  pale  as  a  priest’s  arse.  "

He  holds  the  cup  without  making  a  deal  of  it,  supporting  it  so  it  doesn’t  spill  — because,  yes,  it  smells  terrible,  and  the  last  thing  anyone  needs  is  the  whole  room  smelling  of  it.  "  Aye,  maybe  it  is.  The  secrets  of  their  healin’  powders.  "  He  brushes  his  cheek  with  his  fingers,  and  then  leans  in  to  share,  wry:  "  I  tried  it,  "  because  he’s  like  that,  he  wouldn’t  give  Uhtred  something  in  this  state  without  knowing  it  wouldn’t  hurt  him,  "  An’  it  smells  worse  than  it  tastes.  I’ve  paid  good  coin  for  worse  ale.  "  

[uhtr1d]

Even having him this close with their bodies pressed together, no fabric and no barriers, it's not close enough and it wont be until he's traced every inch of him and then again and again. He's addicted, he's suppressed it all this time to the point of fooling himself into believing he has no feelings but now it's as if they've all caught up on him and gods, he doesn't want to stop. He can't stop and as long as Finan allows it he won't.

He's so lost in his touch and the way his fingers feel against his hip that he almost misses the start of the question, but his head raises so he can meet his gaze. At first he's not sure of his answer, not because he doesn't want to because he's never wanted anything more. But he's told him he's not familiar with being with a man and while both options get a reaction from his body at the thought he's torn over choosing. He wouldn't admit to nerves, in comparison to the things he has done it would be embarrassing to nervous over something like this, wouldn't it? but maybe part of him is because he doesn't want to make a fool of himself.

There's little they haven't said to one another and even fewer things that they haven't done but this is new and it's unfamiliar - no matter how many times he's been with a woman. He's not familiar with giving up control in any situation but he already has in part here with him, what's a little more? They've already implied that there will be little sleep had, there's time to have him and time to be had.

" - we have all night, " Uhtred reminded him as he leaned in, the end of his nose brushing Finan's as his hand travelled down between them to find his cock, fingers wrapped around and stroked as they had before but this time they were more confident, more familiar with how to coax's those moans from him. " - I want to feel you inside me. " The pad of thumb teases over the head of his cock as a small smirk rest on his lips, if he's nervous he doesn't show it. " - and then when we are recovered I will have you for myself. Does that work? If we did? " He knows there is no if, they've both made it clear that it's what they want. " Do you have oil hidden under that pillow as well as a sword? "

There’s  a  part  of  him  that  buzzes  with  the  satisfaction  of  recently  coming,  but  as  his  thigh  slips  between  his  he  finds  himself  chasing  that  sensation  anyway.  It’s  almost  ticklish,  that  touch  — tracing  'round  a  nipple,  lazy  fingers  trailing  — and  his  skin  prickles  up  just  a  little  in  their  wake.  "  I  might,  "  he�� agrees,  too  somber  for  the  subject  matter  — and  teasing,  because  it’s  with  a  little  grin  and  a  muffled  sound  from  his  throat  as  he  pushes  back  against  him,  mouth  equally  lazy  in  its  path  but  tracing  a  line  down  under  his  throat.

The  hard  line  of  Uhtred’s  cock  against  his  belly  is  a  hot  reminder,  and  he  moves  so  they’re  trapped  together,  pressed  together,  his  own  stirring  harder  at  each  shift  of  their  bodies.  "  An’  you  can  put  them  where  you  like,  "  he  grins  in  response  to  the  wink.  "  Anywhere.  Everywhere.  "  His  chest  heaves  under  the  mouth  ambling  down,  the  stirring  of  the  cross  he  wears  — and  there  comes  that  notion  again  of  what  he  wants  so  very  badly  tonight.

But  Uhtred  by  his  own  admission  has  never  done  this  with  a  man  before,  and  while  he  has,  it’s  been  awhile  and  longer  still  since  he’s  allowed  another  on  top.  But  this  is  different  — the  trust  is  there  already,  absolute,  and  he’s  without  reservation.  And,  he’s  usually  easily  confident,  almost  to  a  fault  — but  he  feels  a  little  swell  of  nerves,  because  this  is  about  so  much  more  than  just  sex.  But,  too  — it’s  probably  best  to  get  the  question  out  of  the  way  while  they’re  still  clear-headed  if  even  the  tease  of  it  is  on  the  table.  

"  How  would  y’want  to  ——  "  He  sucks  in  a  breath,  lets  his  fingers  skim  down  his  body,  trace  over  Uhtred’s  hip,  his  lower  back,  appreciation  in  the  hard  and  lithe  muscle  in  every  touch  —  and  traces  it  up,  a  casual  and  easy  bump  of  his  chest  urging  him  to  look  up,  up,  catch  his  eye.  "  Not  that  we  have  to.  I’m  happy  t’use  my  hand,  my  mouth,  whatever  ye  like,  "  he’s  swift  to  add,  but  he’s  also  not  an  idiot,  and  he  knows  well  what  the  tease  they’re  playing  at  is  circling  'round.  And  to  hell  with  it,  beyond  all  else,  this  is  his  best  and  closest  friend,  and  the  hell  is  he  nervous  for?  They’ve  made  bawdier  talk  over  a  campfire. "  But  if  we  did  — d’you  want  to  be  in  me,  or  me  in  you?  "  

[uhtr1d]

Uhtred was not the type nor would he ever be to sugar coat something and tell Finan it wasn't his fault. They both knew that, it had been his decision to make and he had been at fault but if it had been for the sake of his own happiness in that moment then he would never disapprove of it - even if it had ended in tragedy in the end. He had done plenty of stupid and reckless things and still did, on occasion he caught himself getting lost in the past but he never lingered there for long.

" You were a fool, " He shrugged his shoulders as he looked to Finan with a small smile. " - you still are in some ways, but you went after what you wanted and even if it ended the way it did it brought you to me. " There was nothing he could do to right the wrong done to him, he'd offered him a path which could end in revenge but there was little else to offer asides from what they had here, but it seemed to be enough for the both of them.

His hand slid down the length of Finan's arm and fingers locked with his. " Better yet, you are my fool. " Uhtred says it with a grin, teeth biting his lower lip in a hopeless attempt to hide it. Even in front of him he sometimes fought his own stubbornness when it came to admitting he wasn't as strong as he wished he was. " - If you had not been on that ship or if you had decided not to come with me... " There's a brief pause as he battles over his own words and what he wants to say. " I would not have made it this far. That I am certain of. "

He's never seen Finan as someone who follows him, he'd always been an equal - a man just as capable as he is. They'd both been reduced to nothing on that ship, there was no other that he trusted the way he did him. There's love between them, there has been for the longest time, though he hasn't said it he'd never deny being in love with him - but there's an unbreakable bond, he's not certain he could ever describe it if he was asked. " Only a little, " He teases but says one last thing before he stands properly. " - but everything I have is yours. " Once he is stood he gives Finan's hand a tug. " Now come with me so we can drink instead of sitting here all night, we can do that later, prince. "

Oh,  and  he  knows  he  was  not  innocent  in  his  decisions.  It’s  been  a  regret  that’s  haunted  him  for  years,  especially  on  those  first  lonely  and  hard  months  on  that  ship.  He  was  young  and  foolhardy,  and  thought  himself  so  invincible; thought  that  he  was  desperately  in  love,  and  this  cold  and  hard  place  he’d  been  thrust  into,  caught  in  a  loveless  political  marriage.  He’s  always  been  a  romantic  soul,  and  this  marriage  was  not  that  — and  he  had  felt  stuck  in  so  many  ways.  

But  to  Uhtred’s  words,  he’s  shaking  his  head  before  he’s  even  done.  "  No,  "  he  says,  and  it’s  firm.  It’s  something  he  decided  a  long,  long  time  ago  — before  Uhtred,  even,  though  Uhtred  had  cemented  that  decision,  perhaps.  His  brows  knit  down,  and  he  amends,  after  a  moment:  "  There  were  days,  at  first,  I  would  have.  Hah,  revenge.  An’  do  what,  walk  t’those  shores  and  fight  my  brother  bloody  over  a  title  I  didn’t  care  about,  a  home  that  wasn’t  mine,  a  family  that  put  me  on  that  ship,  children  that  wouldn’t  be  children  anymore  who  know  another  man  as  their  father?  "  

He  shakes  his  head  again,  this  time  more  muted  but  still  firm.  "  I  was  a  fool.  An’  I  paid  a  fool’s  price,  and  it’s  done.  My  family’s  here  now.  My  land,  "  And  he  taps  the  table  with  his  fingers,  "  is  what’s  under  my  feet.  My  loyalty,  "  and  he  catches  Uhtred’s  eye,  then,  unbreaking,  unflinching,  "  is  in  those  that  gave  me  a  reason  t’give  it.  "  

And  he  believes  him,  he  does.  Maybe  that’s  why  it’s  always  felt  right,  felt  natural,  felt  easy  to  hand  Uhtred  everything  he  was  able  to  give,  and  he’s  never  swayed.  But  even  so,  hearing  it  so  plainly  feels  beautifully  warm,  and  he  gives  a  little  grin  to  the  squeeze  and  the  tiny  little  kiss  — he  doesn’t  dare  chase  it  with  another,  and  isn’t  so  bold  usually  to  do  the  same,  but  oh,  how  he  wants  to;  he  catches  his  arm  lightly,  squeezes.  He’s  never  sworn  to  him,  no,  but  in  some  ways  their  bond  goes  deeper  than  that,  regardless.  "  Nor  I  yours.  Though  ——  "  His  brows  raise,  and  because  he’s  him  and  because  these  dour  conversations  need  something,  he  adds,  with  a  muted  but  clear  levity:  "  Might  be  awkward,  now’n  then.  "  

[uhtr1d]

He was well aware that sleep would suit them best come morning, but the idea of the two of them spending the night tangled in each other rather than sleeping was all far more appealing - and Uhtred had never been a man to hesitate when getting what he wanted. Now curiosity had gotten the better of him and his mind strayed towards something other than sleep. The taste of Finan still lingered on his lips as they kissed, heart humming happily inside his chest when he smiles against soft lips - despite the slight coarseness of his their beards meeting in the middle, a sensation he was quickly growing fond of.

" I believe the best way to stop morning arriving too soon would be to hump all night. " He's pulling back from the kiss when he says it, a smirk resting on his lips whilst eyes search Finan's. " Would you agree? " Fingertips are almost lazy as he circles one of his nipples slowly and his thigh slides back between the others, he can feel him still half hard against him. " I think you might. " There's little rush if they have all night but there's still a deep desire to have him in every way he can because he's thought about it time and time again in the past, but he's never allowed himself to act or linger on it for too long through the fear of not knowing.

It seems almost ironic to think he's capable of so much yet this is what he never allowed himself to act on, but the idea of losing Finan because of his own recklessness was not one he would entertain. What was he without him? He was his greatest friend, his advisor, his second and now his lover. Seeing Finan find a home and happiness was perhaps far more important than his own.

His fingers move to trace the scars on his arm carefully and he nestles in closer to him. Seeing him come undone, feeling it and taking him into his mouth had easily influenced his own body and he's not subtle about how turned on he is when his hips press against him letting his hardened length press against him. " I am not going anywhere. " His hand runs down the length of his arm and then it's on his chest, tips trace over the cross against his chest and then they move lower - it's not with any set intention he just wants to feel him under his fingers. " - so I will not be trying to escape," He winked at him. " - and I cannot keep my hands my off of you. "

God,  every  moment  he  spends  —— he’s  quick  to  get  a  little  oversensitive,  but  he  doesn’t  stop  him,  doesn’t  pull  him  away.  It’s  a  good  kind,  a  kind  that’s  electric  and  makes  him  shiver  and  keeps  him  half-hard  for  longer  than  he  normally  would  be  — or  maybe  that’s  just  this  situation.  Oh,  he’s  used  enough  to  sleepless  nights,  but  this  is  the  best  way  he  could  imagine  to  commit  himself  to  being  tired  come  morning.  

"  If  I  am  dreamin’,  I  don’t  want  mornin’  to  get  here  anytime  soon,  "  he  utters  with  a  slow  little  grin,  and  that  grin  softens  as  he  yields  into  the  kiss.  Without  that  edge  between  them,  the  immediate  hunger,  this  is  softer  and  deeper,  more  gentle  and  exploring,  as  though  memorizing  how  it  feels.  He  can  taste  himself  on  Uhtred’s  tongue,  and  somehow  that’s  both  electrifyingly  arousing  and  painfully  intimate,  and    his  palm  flattens  on  his  cheek  as  he  pulls  him  in  close,  close,  letting  the  kiss  go,  and  go,  and  God,  but  he’d  lay  here  all  night  just  kissing  him  deep  ——

"  Let  you?  Oi,  I’m  a  cuddler,  just  try  to escape.  "  It’s  in  jest,  of  course;  if  he  really  wanted  to  leave,  he’d  let  him.  But  he’s  certainly  not  opposed,  even  if  it’s  taking  some  risk;  he’s  got  enough  confidence  in  those  around  them  that  those  close  enough  to  notice  wouldn’t  make  a  problem  of  it,  but  that  doesn’t  mean  he’s  willing  to  throw  all  caution  to  the  winds.  He  shifts  a  little  when  Uhtred  does;  the  bed’s  narrow,  but  not  so  tight  a  squeeze  that  some  room  can’t  be  made.  

He  doesn’t  even  have  to  think  about  it  for  long;  he  gives  a  skim  of  fingertips  up  his  back,  not  shying  away  from  the  scars  but  not  lingering  on  them  either,  a  tip  of  brows  upward.  "  So  stay.  "  It’s  not  the  first  time  they’ve  had  to  share  sleeping  quarters,  and  not  the  first  time  even  they’ve  had  to  press  close  for  warmth  at  night  or  share  blankets  or  bedrolls.  But  it’s  never  been  this,  skin  on  skin,  and  it’s  both  new  and  not  but  absolutely  is  and  he  presses  close  and  curls  an  arm  'round  him;  he  exhales  a  little  laugh,  low  and  quiet,  and  says  so  it  scarcely  even  fills  the  space  between  them:  "  Whether  y’stay  and  we  hump  all  night  or  y’stay  and  it’s  just  like  this,  "  and  he  curls  a  finger  under  his  chin,  lures  him  in  with  a  lingering  kiss,  "  I  want  you  here.  "

[uhtr1d]

Uhtred makes no attempt to slow the pace of his mouth or his hand until he feels him come undone on his tongue - he only slows when he's satisfied that he's worked him through his climax. His hands drop away to his thighs where fingers idly squeeze the muscles underneath them and he tastes him still, lips enjoying feeling him twitch between them until they're gone, the tip of his tongue swirling round the head of his cock just once more before his mouth his gone entirely.

" I guess you will have to wait until morning to find out. " He grins as he comes back up to hover over him, but leans down to press his lips to Finan's for a kiss. He can still taste him on his tongue and gods he wants to just stay there, he knows he shouldn't - if he stays all night then he has to find a way out by morning before the rest wake. But the selfish part of him has no desire to that. Why can't they have this? They've both suffered enough. It's about time they both allowed themselves something good, something right.

He makes a quick decision there and then to stay, it's worth the risk and he's usually up before most are - he'd leave as the sun started to rise if Finan allowed it. No one would know any differently. " - that is if you are willing to let me stay the night. " He spoke against his lips and another kiss followed before he pressed his head into the crook of his neck, the scruff of his beard brushing Finan's as he shut his eyes and relaxed against him.

He was probably a little heavy, he knew and made an attempt to keep some of his weight off, but it would have been the same if their positions were reversed. " I will leave before the sun comes up so they will not know. " Though once they were in public again after this, Uhtred couldn't guarantee being able to act as if it were normal - he'd never been the best at that. His head lifted so he could find his gaze with his own. " But I do not wish to go yet, I suppose you could say I do not wish to leave you yet. I want to stay. "

A  breath  of  a  laugh  follows,  and  it’s  bitten  back  in  a  low,  low  sound  in  his  throat.  "  Could  be  that  it  is,  "  he  pants,  hips  rocking  lazy  and  steady,  and  he  lets  himself  just  be  lulled  into  the  pleasure  of  it  all,  lets  his  mind  blank  and  his  eyes  close.  God,  but  he’s  thought  of  this  moment  a  thousand  times  over,  hasn’t  he?  Wondered  what  it  would  be  like  to  kiss  him,  to  touch  him,  to  feel  him  against  him  like  this  ——

Of  course,  and  this:  he’s  imagined  this,  because  of  course  he  has,  though  he  never  dreamed  it’d  actually  happen.  And  god,  but  he’s  good  at  it  too  — because  of  course  he  is,  because  it’s  Uhtred,  because  he  pours  passion  and  attention  into  everything  he  does.  And  he’s  trying  to  stay  quiet,  breathlessly  groaning  praise,  nonsensical  utterances,  his  name,  and  he  feels  that  heat  steadily  building  and  climbing;  his  hips  jerk  unsteadily  up,  his  touch  rougher  ——

He  imagines,  briefly,  what  it  would  be  like  to  stop  him,  to  roll  the  both  over  — to  bury  himself  deep  until  they  both  fell  apart.  And  there’s  a  keen  part  of  him  that  wants  to  stop  him,  bring  it  up,  but  —  even  that  thought  alone  is  enough  to  pull  him  past  the  point  of  no  return,  and  they’re  both  so  needy  and  hungry  for  this  tonight  that  maybe  getting  this  edge  off  is  for  the  best.  And  so:  he  gives  in  to  it,  and  groans,  low,  quiet,  snatched  on  every  breath:  "  God,  just  like  that,  you  feel  —— god,  Uhtred,  I’m  goin’  ——  "

The  fingers  curling  'round  him  do  him  in;  he  utters  a  warning  that’s  half-lost,  hips  hitch  raggedly  once  or  twice,  and  then  he  comes  with  a  shudder  and  yet  another  oath  sworn  under  his  breath,  and  god,  but  it  feels  like  everything  he’s  been  waiting  for.  He  groans  after  a  minute,  sucking  in  a  deep  breath,  and  then  breathes  a  shaky,  breathless  laugh,  fingers  softening  as  they  stroke  through  his  hair,  gentle  now  as  you  please.    "  Damn.  Not  how  I  expected  th’night  to  go.  You  sure  I’m  not  dreamin’  all  this?  "

[uhtr1d]

@r4gnar : " I do not understand you sometimes, but you are my brother. if you need my help, you need only ask "

" It is not just you, I do not understand myself most of the time, " A smile forced his lips to turn up at either end, his gaze focused on the cup of ale in his hand before it lifted to look at Ragnar. He found himself constantly torn between doing what he wanted and what was right, what he had to do protect those around him - to protect Ragnar as he'd sworn he would do. " I'm not certain your men would like it. " To take back Bebbanburg would be reclaim his birth right and it would mean a home not just for himself and his man but he would extend it to Ragnar - he was his family. But to ask for his help? It didn't feel as simple.

His men had certainly voiced their opinions since his arrival and he couldn't blame them, Brida was not wrong - he was caught between both worlds, one by duty and one by love for his family. " - I would not want to put you in a position where they question your motives as well as mine, Ragnar. You have a duty to them. "

[uhtr1d]

There's no use lingering on it and maybe he wouldn't have been if he weren't lying there on what still felt like his death bed, despite his lungs no longer struggling as much for breath as they once were. Who knew how long that would last. He'd heard of people finding a last bout of energy before they took their final breath - perhaps this was what that was. Finan was right, they could never stay in one place for too long - they would grow restless, he wasn't sure he'd ever really known a quiet life and there was little use in trying now. He'd left too much of a mark - it wasn't for them. They were warriors after all.

" I cannot. " He admitted purely out of defeat, Uhtred doubted his legs would work if he was to try to stand - though he was tempted, he'd grown bored of the bed in the short time he had been awake and he wanted to feel the open air on his skin, instead he would continue battle the sweats as he went from too hot to too cold. His hand raised his mouth in an attempt to shield the raspy cough, the other uncurling from around Finan's to let go off his hand as he watched him pour the liquid - he could already smell it from that distance.

His answer didn't sit well with him, he knew him well enough to see through his words. Even now he remained stubborn to his very core. " I will drink all of it if you return to your own bed and sleep once it has knocked me cold, otherwise I am not touching it. " He was saw the flaw in his own plan as he pressed his elbow to the bed to try to push himself into a sitting position - but it wasn't without gritting his teeth and making two attempts. That alone was enough to force him to catch his breath - head resting back as his chest heaved.

" - and I will send someone to check on you... " He reached for the cup, fingers a little shaky from exhausted muscles but he made an attempt to grip it, though he was mostly relying on Finan to guide it. He didn't want to be entirely helpless even if he might as well have been. " - to see that you do. " Taking one solid sniff of it from where it was, he wrinkled his nose up in disgust. " It smells like you after you have eaten too much cabbage. "

But  he  does  know  him  that  well,  and  part  of  it  is  because  he  is  not  so  different.  They  are  both  warriors  — fighters.  They  live  by  the  sword,  and  right  now  they  all  have  too  much  fire  in  the  bellies  and  upset  at  the  injustices  of  the  world  to  be  able  to  settle.  Briefly,  too,  his  heart  aches,  feels  like  it’s  getting  stretched  thin  between  them.  It’s  a  good  feeling,  but  also  painful  in  its  own  way;  it’s  love  he  feels,  absolutely,  and  a  convoluted  love  that  has  so  many  facets  that  he’s  not  sure  how  to  begin  describing  it.  

"  As  I  would  you,  "  he  says,  and  it’s  equally  sincere  — and  perhaps  in  other  circumstance  he  would  argue  more,  but  he  well  knows  that  something  like  that  isn’t  feasible,  and  arguing  the  point  isn’t  worth  it.  "  We  do  that  now’n  then  anyway,  "  he  laughs,  and  then  drags  his  hand  up  and  presses  a  kiss  to  his  knuckles,  fleeting  and  brief.  

And  oh,  how  that  '  offer  '  earns  a  skeptical  raise  of  the  brow  and  Uhtred  a  Look,  but  he’s  graceful  enough  to  just  lean  in  and  say,  low  and  under  his  breath:  "  I  couldn’t  get  it  stiff  right  now  if  I  tried,  "  he  says,  and  it’s  honestly  probably  even  true  — he’s  tired,  he’s  worried,  and  his  nerves  are  all  kinds  of  frayed  as  it  is.  "  An’  if  you  can,  I  admire  yer  fortitude.  "  He’s  also  not  enough  of  an  ass  at  the  moment  to  say  I  told  you  so  at  the  coughing,  and  instead  reaches  for  the  cup  near  the  bed. 

There’s  a  leather  skin  of  ale  boiled  with  all  matter  of  medicinal  herbs,  and  it  smells  pungent  enough  to  knock  over  a  horse.  He  doesn’t  pretend  to  know  the  ways  of  the  healers,  but  they’ve  brought  him  back  from  the  brink,  and  so  he  trusts  them  enough.  He  pours  some  into  the  cup,  and  wrinkles  his  nose  as  he  offers  it  — both  for  him  to  take  or  to  hold  it  if  needed.  

"  They  said  t’try  to  get  you  to  drink  that  whole  thing,  "  he  says,  kind  of  apologetically,  and  with  a  quieter  kind  of  empathy.  "  I  said  I’d  try,  so  here  I  am.  "  It’s  also  a  way  to  avoid  the  question  for  a  second,  and  he  hems  and  haws  around  it.  "  I  have,  "  he  claims,  though  it’s  clear  he  hasn’t.  "  Some.  Enough.  "  Definitely  not  enough.  

[uhtr1d]

There would never be a good time to unearth the past, there was little his men didn't know about his own because it haunted everything he did and he owed them the truth - only some of it remained hidden. But Finan? It had never seemed appropriate to ask. It didn't now either, in truth, it never would knowing it would likely bring discomfort and bad memories but he had always wondered. He'd had always been his closest friend first, his right hand man second but now that shift had changed. He was his friend and partner too - it wasn't right to prod at old wounds, but there were few rocks left unturned between them and that was one of them.

He listened intently and remained quiet as Finan told his story. The distant noise of those leaving the tavern could be heard outside but there was little else now that it was dark out and people were returning to their homes. It was same time most nights and it was the perfect time for one of them to make their way to the others homes and more often than not their beds.

Uhtred always sought revenge for those who had wronged him so it was no surprise when that same feeling ate away at him when Finan finished talking. It would not be safe nor possible to do that without starting something far bigger - especially when the Irishman's actions had been the reason behind the decision for him to land on the slave ship, a fate he hadn't deserved no matter the circumstances.

" I am sorry. Being on that ship is not a fate I would wish even on my worst enemy - " There's a pause in his words as he looked to Finan and rest his hand on thigh to give it a soft squeeze. " - maybe Haestan for a short time. " A small smile teased his lips but it was only brief as he turned himself to face the other man properly. " If you ever wished to go back and get what is rightfully yours then we would follow, though I know not all men are as thirsty for revenge as I am. But when we take my home back I will make sure you have all that more. and it will be your home too " He gave his thigh another soft squeeze and leaned in to lay a kiss to his cheek. " I will not leave your side. "

A  large  part  of  him  is  surprised  Uhtred’s  never  asked.  He  understands  why;  the  only  reason  he  knows  so  much  about  Uhtred’s  history  is  because  with  all  he  surrounds  himself  with  it’s  hard  not  to.  Asking  those  questions  about  everything  they’ve  faced  feels  almost  like  prying  into  something  secret,  something  private,  something  dark  and  unspoken.  But:  he’s  ashamed  of  it  all,  it’s  true.  He  made  mistakes.  He  was  unfaithful,  he  was  cocky  and  proud,  and  more  than  just  he  paid  for  it  all.  And  so  —— "  By  bein’  a  damned  fool,  "  he  says,  but  it’s  softer,  and  not  really  avoiding  it  so  much  as  chewing  over  where  he’d  even  begin.  

He  goes  quiet  for  a  minute,  thinking  letting  himself  be  lulled  by  the  soft  words  and  the  kiss.  "  I  was  the  oldest.  My  father  arranged  for  me  t’wed  the  second  daughter  o’  a  prince  in  the  north  as  a  try  to  unite,  politically,  before  he  died.  "  And  there’s  no  love  lost  there.  "  An’  I  did,  an’  we  had  two  lads  for  it,  but  I  was  a  fool  who  was  in  love  with  someone  else,  and  young  and  fool  enough  in  love  to  think  it’d  be  enough  when  we  took  two  horses  an’  tried  to  slip  out  one  night.  "  

There’s  a  distinct  lack  of  naming  it,  but  the  implication  that  it  wasn’t  likely  a  woman  he  fell  for  is  clear  enough.  "  My  wife’s  family  caught  us,  killed  my  lover,  "  and  there’s  a  bite  of  old,  raw  guilt,  heavy  and  cutting.  "  Would  have  killed  me,  but  my  brother  — my  brother,  the  bastard,  steps  in  an’  begs  me  t’be  jailed  instead.  "  

He  takes  in  a  deep,  slow  breath  and  lets  it  go  in  a  level  and  bracing  exhale,  as  though  this  is  exhausting  just  to  put  words  to.  "  Next  I  know  I  have  a  priest  down  with  me,  has  me  sign  an  annulment  an’  a  forfeiture  of  all  land,  coin,  livestock,  titles.  Well.  "  He  huffs  a  laugh,  then,  bitter,  wry.  "  He  signs  it  when  I  tell  'em  where  he  can  stick  it,  an'  then  signs  his  own  name  as  witness.  Then  I  hear  my  brother’s  wed  my  wife,  an'  hear  he’s  got  a  ship  lined  up  for  me,  an'  I  think  I’m  goin'  home  to  Ulaid,  but  it  was  into  shackles.  "  

He  doesn’t  know  how  long  he  was  on  that  ship,  either  — it  feels  like  a  lifetime.  "  He  said  t’me:  better  they  think  you’re  dead  than  what  you’ve  done,  an’  I  asked  for  my  sons  one  last  time,  just wee lads, barely two, three. And  he  says,  they’re  not  yours  anymore.  "  And  oh,  how  he  looks  haunted  over  that,  even  though  that  haunting  is  nearly  a  decade  old  by  now;  he  tries  to  steel  it  away,  but  it  leaves  tracks.  "  An’  that’s  the  last  I  saw  of  Ireland.  "

[uhtr1d]

The reaction he gets is encouraging, not that he needs much of it to keep going but getting that sort of reaction out of Finan at least lets him know he's getting it right. But it's Uhtred and he can't resist the chance to get a word in, to let his cocky attitude shine through his words when his mouth leaves him to speak. " You say that like it is a threat. " The grin remains on his lips until he lowers his head again to take him back into his mouth.

The hand not teasing his balls grips one of his thighs and squeezes feeling the muscles underneath his fingertips. For a second he thinks about it and allows his mind to wander, to think about what it'd feel like to have them between his own with Finan on top of him, but he wont have to imagine it for much longer, if not tonight then another night.

He takes his time letting his tongue stroke up to the tip of his cock once and then a second time before his lips are wrapped firmly around him, engulfing him in the warm heat. His head bobs slowly, taking him into the back of his throat, holding them there before draws back to do it again, - and he's hot and heavy against his tongue and the taste of pre come makes him all the more eager.

His fingers carefully squeeze and he's rolling his balls between them as he increases the pace of his mouth. There's a quiet moan that leaves his lips and travels down his cock as his hand leaves his thigh to find the base and jerk him in time with the movements of his mouth. He steals a brief glance up towards Finan to watch him, but he says nothing. He knows they should be quite, if anyone were walking past in the dead of night they'd likely hear something but he doesn't care to be nor he care to keep Finan quiet, his body reacts to each and every noise. But he is quiet as the only noise heard is mouth working his length.

When  are  they  ever  out  of  trouble?  This  sets  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  but  he  doesn’t  say  it.  Trouble  chases  them,  and  this  he  knows  well  — and  nor  does  he  expect  that  to  ever  change.  He’s  a  wild  heart,  too,  though,  for  all  he  seems  more  level  in  comparison,  and  he  lives  for  it  more  than  he  would  admit.  

He  also  knows  none  of  this  will  be  easy,  and  he  has  no  expectations  that  they  will  be  able  to  play  at  the  kind  of  relationship  that  he  would  like  to  have.  But  —— don’t  they  already?  The  physical  parts,  this,  gods,  but  it’s  welcome  and  needed  and  he  never  wants  to  leave  this  bed  — but  the  most  important  part  of  it  all  is  what  they  already  have,  and  somehow  he  knows  that  will  never  change.  

We  are  bound,  I’d  say,  he’d  said,  once.  Then,  it’d  felt  ironclad  enough.  Now,  it  feels  like  it’s  written  in  blood  and  unbreakable.  

"  Well,  you  know  I’d  follow  you  into  whatever  danger  you  find  already,  so  suppose  this  isn’t  diff——  ah,  f——  "  His  voice  catches  wavers,  thins  in  his  throat,  breaks  into  a  panted  few  harsh  breaths  as  his  lips  just  touch  him,  trail  underneath,  and  his  eyes  close  and  his  head  tilts  back;  fingers  curve  over  the  shaved  sides  of  his  head,  hips  strain  upwards  a  little and thighs falling apart to give him more room.  Of  course  he’s  had  this  done  plenty,  but  it’s  been  awhile  — and  the  truth  of  who  it  is  feels  positively  electric.  

He  breathes  a  curse,  soft  and  unintelligible,  and  a  breath  of  a  laugh  follows.  "  Y’say  it  like  it’s  a  threat,  "  he  teases,  and  then  he’s  taken  in  earnest  and  he  swears  again,  trying  to  stay  quiet  but  not  really  succeeding.  "  God,  yes,  "  he  groans.  "  Just  like  that.  I’m,  "  and  he’s  not  sure  what  he  is,  but  it’s  a  lot  of  things,  and  he  utters  another  groaning  laugh.  "  I’m  not  goin’  to  last  long  if  you  keep  doin’  that.  "

[uhtr1d]

He almost hates that Finan knows him well enough to call him out on his last words, he's right - he wouldn't be unhappy, restless perhaps and that restlessness would fester until he needed to act or find something else to sink his blade into. It's not just him, he knows that, but he often allows himself for think on it for too long, especially now he and Finan are more than what they once were. There was plenty he could give him, but there was plenty he couldn't and it was the couldn't played on his mind longer than he should allow it to.

" I would be happy with you, " His words are not wrapped in anything playful for a change, he's sincere and truthful. " restless maybe, but if we were to move huts every few months and start a few fights in nearby taverns - " It wasn't realistic and he knew that, but gods what he'd give to have that now - even more so because they would be alone and he wouldn't have to keep his hands or body to himself, he'd be able to hold his hand or take comfort in his body heat and the feel of his beard against his skin. " - but I would still be happy. "

Just as he had been happy to have Finan there on that ship, the situation had been miserable, they'd been left with scars both mental and physical. But he'd been happy to find him even when the rest had turned to shit - when he'd thought he'd been destined to die there. The tap to his chest forced a grin to his lips. " I could just lay here and you can... sit. It still works. " A smirk appears and it's forced back when a cold shiver rolls down his spine, he's cold but sweating all at once and fingers push at least some of the blankets away to get a little air even still. When the cooler air hits his skin it forces the breath from his lungs to shake, his chest tightens as he tilts to let out a raspy sore cough before he looks to Finan again.

While no one passes by, he reaches for him and his fingers find his to brush the back of his knuckles. It's too brief but he needs the contact. " Have you slept? You look like you have not slept. "

Finan  has  barely  slept  — and  when  he  has,  it’s  only  fitfully,  and  only  when  one  of  the  others  made  him.  The  amount  of  times  he’s  reached  over  to  press  a  palm  against  Uhtred’s  chest  under  the  pile  of  blankets  he’s  under  just  to  feel  the  rise  and  fall  of  his  chest  to  make  sure  he’s  breathing  —  it’s  something  of  a  miracle  he  hasn’t  fretted  himself  into  illness.  

He’s  seen  men,  strong  men,  die  of  less.  He’s  seen  a  man  get  a  splinter  on  the  ship  and  die  raving.  He’s  been  ill  from  a  wound  gone  wrong,  too,  because  nearly  everyone  who  fights  as  much  as  they  do  gets  one  gone  bad  now  and  then,  but  never  this  bad,  and  he’s  been  gripped  with  fear  since.  He  can  fight  men,  but  he  can’t  fight  illness.  

He’s  refused  to  be  helpless.  On  the  trip,  he’s  brought  him  broth  from  their  food,  warm  ale  heated  with  wild  coriander  because  he’s  heard  it  helps  fight  fevers,  and  he’ll  try  anything.  Brought  him  new  blankets  when  old  ones  get  damp  with  sweat,  shed  his  own  cloak  and  pulled  saddlepads  off  the  horses  for  extra  warmth.  And  when  they  reached  Dunholm,  his  attentive  vigil  never  once  ended.  And  he’s  prayed,  god  he’s  prayed.  Fervent  oaths  sworn  into  the  pendant  hanging  from  his  neck,  and  even  pleas  here  and  there  to  the  gods  he  doesn’t  follow.  

He  has  hope,  vaguely,  that  the  worst  is  over  —  he’s  talking,  now,  joking,  even  if  he  yet  sounds  wrecked.  He  breathes  a  laugh,  short  and  stiff,  at  leaving  Sihtric  alone  to  deal  with  him,  and  he  just  utters,  wry:  "  He  would  suffer,  it’s  true,  "  and  he  clenches  his  hand  tight.  His  mouth  thins,  and  he,  too,  wishes  he  could  climb  in  alongside,  but  there  are  people  drifting  through  and  he  doesn’t  dare  when  Uhtred  is  weak  enough  as  it  is.  His  voice  lowers,  dire,  rough  and  low:  "  But  would  ye  be  happy  livin’  in  a  small  hut  for  all  the  rest  of  your  days?  "  It’s  not  critical  — it’s  fond,  truly,  and  with  the  faintest  thin-lipped  smile.  He  knows  Uhtred  too  well.  He  knows  them  all  too  well.  They  feel  old  and  tired  and  worn  right  now,  but  days  turn.  He  knows.  

But  god,  if  only.  If  only,  if  only,  if  only.  

That  last,  though,  startles  him  out  of  it  with  a  laugh,  and  he  grins:  a  fierce  thing,  an  honest  thing,  and  he  taps  a  finger  against  his  chest.  "  Oi,  none  o’  that  until  you’re  well  enough.  Then  we’ll  make  up  for  lost  time,  I  swear  it.  "

[uhtr1d]

They've never spoken much about their time on the ship, yet it's how they came to be - how they bonded and eventually got here. It's complicated and he's tried to wipe it from his memory, yet the hardship and torture inflicted upon them in those two years had given him Finan. He was not grateful for the trouble they'd found themselves in, he never could be, but he was thankful he'd found him - he was certain he wouldn't have made it as far as he had without him - even the strongest of men had a point beyond return and he was no different.

At times he'd wanted to ask Finan about his past, how he'd come to be on that ship, but it felt raw - would it ever not? They were both covered in scars, many of them coming to be because they'd shielded each other, but he knew Finan been on that ship longer than him. How did two people come to know so much and yet so little? They weren't just friends, they were lovers, they were more than that even. Now felt like the right time to pry if he was to ever try.

" How did - " He started and stopped just as quickly, teeth chewing at his bottom lip as he debated whether asking was a good or bad idea. As he did arm wrapped around Finan's waist and his head rest against his. If he was to shut down and refuse to answer his question he would understand such a decision. " Why were on the ship? we've never spoken of it. " There's a pause and silence that comes from him before he speaks again. " - you do not have to tell me if you would rather not, I just - felt it was a good time to ask. "

They were stuck with one another, Finan was right. He had given him hope as much as he had done with him. The poke to his ribs had him flinch, a small smile starting to appear on his lips. He presses a kiss to the top of his head among the bed of hair. " I am not stuck if I enjoy every minute of it. " A second follows and his smile grows. " I would not change it for the world. "

“   Your pain is safe with me and I will stay with you longer than your sorrows if you let me. ” ( uhtred @ finan !! ) / @uhtr1d

"  Uhtred,  "  he  says,  and it’s  soft,  it’s  quiet,  and  there’s  this —  vastness  around  them.  A  shared  comfort  that  comes  from  someone  who  almost  knows  him  better  than  he  knows  himself  despite  knowing  little  about  who  he  was,  and  that  going  both  ways.  Their  bond  goes  far  beyond  friendship.  It  goes  beyond  being  lovers,  and  that  was  before  they  even  were.  He  doesn’t  even  know  what  to  call  it,  but  he  knows  it  when  he  feels  it.  "  I  know.  "

And  it’s  not  dismissive:  it’s  gently  emphatic,  honest,  and  it  comes  with  a  haunt  of  a  smile.  He  often  fights  the  world  with  wit  — sharp  (  sometimes  too  sharp  ),  unafraid  to  goad,  taking  a  certain  glee  in  being  a  needle  under  the  skin.  He  fights  the  world  with  a  fearless  strength,  a  ferocity  in  a  fight,  and  an  unrelenting  spirit.  He  fights  the  world  with  a  hearty  sense  of  cheer  and  levity,  quick  to  laugh  and  tease  and  try  to  drag  others  into  it  with  him.

So  rarely  does  he  even  allow  himself  to  remember.  He  couldn’t,  not  when  he  was  on  the  ship.  Because  then,  memory  was  dangerous,  because  it  allowed  you  despair,  and  that’s  when  you  died;  he  was  on  that  ship  for  so  long  that  walling  off  everything  before  just  became  habit,  became  natural,  became  what  he  had  to  do  to  survive,  and  one  doesn’t  so  easily  let  go  of  habits  forged  by  survival.  

He’s  tired,  and  he  leans  against  him.  Or,  at  least,  that’s  what  he  tells  himself  — that  letting  his  head  loll  to  rest  on  his  shoulder  is  just  being  tired,  and  isn’t  at  all  about  comfort.  He’s  not  a  good  liar,  even  to  himself.  "  Besides  that,  y’already  have.  Stayed  with  me  longer.  The  damned  fool  that  lost  himself  everythin’  died  before  he  even  got  on  that  ship.  "  A  finger  playfully  prods  at  his  ribs.  "  You  gave  me  hope  again,  you  arsehole.  Now  yer  stuck  with  me.  "

[uhtr1d]

Fingers left the hilt of his sword once he was satisfied she meant no harm. Though Uhtred knew not to let his guard down, it was unwise, foolish, he knew better than most that it wasn't just the sharp point of a blade that could be made into a weapon to do harm. While his men rested, and they needed rest, it was just him to defend them but he knew they slept light enough to be woken if need be.

He looked off into the distance, the dark of the night hiding anyone who might be lurking but for now he was satisfied. His brow raised as the woman cackled and doubled - over. The reaction reminded him of Brida for a moment, she too would have laughed in his face had he called her that - perhaps he had been spending too much time in Winchester.

" You look like one. " He mused as he stared her down, arms rising to cross them against his chest. " I am Uhtred. " A proposition? He'd had one too many of those as of late, the thought of another sent a cold shiver down his spine given their usual outcome but he was willing to hear her out. " I will hear it. " He stepped back towards the fire but didn't turn his back to her. " Are you hungry? "

She'd been chasing him across Wessex in the hope she could catch him before the clashing of steel robbed her of a kill that was rightfully hers. Brynja knew the man she was searching for: the Ealdorman of Coccham, a man who was half Dane, half Saxon, the son of the famed Ragnar the Fearless. She knew him by reputation, half through Ragnar, half because her Jarl - the current lord of Mameceaster - fought to take Northumbria for the Danes in the invasion, and had remained loyal to Ragnar the Younger later. She knew he was what she needed, and she was determined to catch him when Saxons were unlikely to kill her.

She slept light, woke early, and kept moving when most were bedding down, keeping the distance between her and Uhtred growing ever shorter. She caught up when his retinue were sleeping - only one remained active, prowling, on watch for trouble. As his attention fixed on her, she rose the branch of a birch tree high, and stabbed her axe and seax into a nearby tree to show she was disarmed.

[ "It is not wise to sneak up on sleeping men, lady," ] said the watchman, and Brynja couldn't help herself - she doubled over, cackling a wild laugh.

"I ain't anythin' like a lady, but thanks for the advice," she said, wolfishly grinning. "I'm lookin' for the Ealdorman Uhtred. Have I found him? I've got a proposition for him."

[uhtr1d]

" Where would be? " It wasn't difficult for him to come up with an answer. " Here, happy, out of trouble - " or perhaps more specifically him, he caused the trouble and Finan followed. But gods, he liked the sound of it. Uhtred was usually restless, but right here, now, there was no place he'd rather be. If he had the option to stay here and shut the world out for a time just to be here with Finan then he would. It was what they deserved, wasn't it? After all they'd been through. " - that is the kind of danger I would enjoy playing with. " He grins as lips press another kiss to his abdomen again and then he stops to let him adjust his position and get comfortable. The clatter of the sword hitting the floor doesn't come as a surprise, its not as if he doesn't have one or two hidden under his own pillow but he smirks all the same.

They make the small space work and his head is plenty close enough to take him in his mouth, but he doesn't, not yet. His free hand is raised, shoulder against the bed, barely, so he can trace the faded scars decorating the skin of Finan's belly. His other still moves, but he strokes him slowly for now - takes his time and it's not necessarily to tease him but maybe he is a little.

" There would never have been an easy time to tell me - " Nor had he made it easy on himself when it came to accepting what he had always wanted. " I have been blind to it - " He pressed a kiss to the underside of his length before speaking again. " But now that I know and I realise that it is what I have wanted all this time... " Then it's his tongue warm and wet as it travels up to the tip slowly, his eyes still on Finan. " You will not be free of me. "

He takes him into his mouth then and he's never done it before but he's had it done to him plenty of times and again he's going off of how he likes it. Fingers slide down to his balls and take him into his hand as his lips close round him, gradually he takes him deeper inch by inch, taking his time to taste him, to memorise how he feels as he twitches, until he tickles the back of his throat as fingers stroke. And when he comes back up his tongue licks up the underside of his cock before he speaks, eyes finding his again. " Like this? "

Tunic  is  pulled  off  — it’s  loose,  comfortable,  all  ties  undone  for  sleep  anyway,  and  it  comes  free  without  struggle.  Pants  follow,  and  then  he’s  bare  under  him  with  only  the  cross  he  wears  skewed  on  his  chest.  And  he  lays  back,  and  — he  wasn’t  born  yesterday,  and  he  certainly  wasn’t  expecting  this,  and  he  gapes  for  a  second  before  mouth  touches  his  belly  and  he  loses  rational  thought.  It’s  punctuated  by  a,  "  God,  Uhtred,  "  as  he  takes  him  in  hand,  swallowing  thick.  

"  Tellin’  me  that  is  dangerous,  you  know.  I  do  it  whenever  I  want,  we’d  never  get  anythin’  done.  Get  anywhere.  An’  then  where’d  we  be?  "  He  grins  a  little,  looking  down  and  running  fingers  over  the  shaved  sides  of  his  hair,  the  thicker  on  top,  and  groans  a  little  as  the  thumb  swipes  over  the  tip  —  cock  weeping  just  a  little,  his  chest  a  little  unsteady  in  the  heaves  of  air.  

He  shifts  under  him  a  little,  adjusting  on  this  narrow  bed  so  they  both  fit  — and  is  only  briefly  interrupted  with  a  little  muttered  curse  and  a,  "  Oh  hell,  just  a  ——  "  and  he  grimaces,  works  an  arm  behind  his  head  and  under  the  pillow,  and  pushes  —— a  sword  out  of  the  way.  He  had  a  short  sword  under  his  pillow,  because  of  course  he  did,  and  at  any  rate  he  pushes  it  off  onto  the  floor,  and  only  gives  Uhtred  a  bit  of  a  well-what-did-you-expect  kind  of  shrug  and  a  little  grin  before  pushing  back  and  getting  comfortable,  shoving  some  of  the  thin  blankets  off  the  bed  as  he  does.

"  Wasn’t  exactly  expectin’  company  tonight,  "  he  admits,  though  that’s  no  real  surprise  ——  and  he  rocks  his  hips  slow  and  steady  up  into  those  little  tugs,  and  his  skin  tightens  and  he  sinks  into  the  feeling  of  a  mouth  on  him  and  drifting  lower,  lower.  He  could  sink  into  this  and  almost  only  this  all  night,  just  lose  himself  in  sensation  and  warmth  and  every  part  of  this  that  he’s  yearned  for  for  so  long  it  feels  unreal  it’s  actually  here.  "  I  wanted  t’tell  you  the  other  night,  I  did.  An’  nights  before  that.  Just  wasn’t  so  eas——  "  And  a  twitch  of  his  cock  as  Uhtred  presses  a  kiss  to  his  abdomen,  a  catch  of  his  words,  a  swallow,  a  struggle  to  get  his  thoughts  back  in  line.  "  Just  wasn’t  easy.  "

[uhtr1d]

@fin4n : ' you can't leave me here.'

His hands are tired, his fingers sore and knuckles white where they've gripped his sword for hours on the journey home - his chest continues to rise and fall and the wound in his shoulder continues to burn from the inside out. The air in his lungs feels as if it's being drawn from him with each breath, as if he's teetering on the verge of death but he never quite reaches it. He may have even wished for it, maybe, if he did not have reason to want to live.

Fingers are stiff as they uncurl from the furs but he reaches for Finan's hand and holds onto it, pulling it to his chest. It's a light pressure but he squeezes and eyes search his, his heart sinks into his chest and gods, he's never wanted to live as much as he has then. " I would never be so cruel that I leave sihtric alone to put up with you. " A smile rests on his lips, though it's weak, but his words are spoken through them with jest. He doesn't intend to die, not like this, not now - he's had reason to live before but to leave Finan alone? That feels worse than any death.

" Do you, " His throat feels dry when he speaks but it's a minor discomfort compared to the pain - but he can still feel pain, that means he's not dead yet. Eyes are still on Finan's and fingers are gentle when they squeeze again when he speaks. " Perhaps we should just run away and find an old hut to live in for the rest of our lives. I am tired and you are tired. " He wants to pull Finan into the bed, to lay next to him like they have time and time again but the frequent check ins tell him he shouldn't - though perhaps if he truly is dying he can blame it on his delusions.

Men have died from less, but he is too stubborn to be that man. " I will not. " He says it as if it's a promise, it is in a way, maybe not one he has any control over but it's not his time - he knows that. " I will not leave you, I did not get this far to be taken by a scratch. " He lifts their hands and lips press to the back of the other mans hands . " Besides I have not humped you nearly enough. "