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What It's Like

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“They said you sent them away.” Canute said as he stepped into the room Thorfinn was using.

The warrior turned from leaning over a table, his shirt on it, a thread and needle in his hand where he was repairing one of the many holes in his clothes.

“Huh?” He frowned, looking annoyed at being interrupted. Well. He was always annoyed. Canute sighed.

“The women.” He clarified, moving into the room, towards the fire where it was warmer. Thorfinn didn’t seem to notice the cool air that had followed him in before he shut the door, apparently comfortable without his shirt on. Not that Canute minded. “They said after the bath you told them to leave.”

“Tch.” Thorfinn huffed and broke the thread with his teeth, turning away slightly to do so. There were scars across his back as well. Too many for someone his own age, surely. He knew Thorfinn had been on the battlefield for a long time but… “Askeladd.” The boy added. Canute blinked in confusion, distracted from checking out Thorfinn by his response.

“What about him?”

“He does this all the time.” Thorfinn explained, standing from the table and shaking the shirt and testing his work with a finger. “Couple of times a year, since I was thirteen. To give me ‘something else to think about’ or something.”

Canute stared at him for a moment, surprised. Askeladd had been trying to get him laid for years, and it hadn’t taken? And give him something else to think about? Other than killing him, Canute would guess. Trying to curb Thorfinns killer instincts with sex was probably not how he would go about it. But then, Askeladd had only ever seen Thorfinn as a usable chess piece.

Thorfinn was watching him, head tilted, shirt hanging from his hand.

“What is it, princess?” He asked harshly, his clean hair falling into his eyes as he levelled his glare at him. “Did you come to steal my fire and stare?”

Canute gathered himself again, trying not to be distracted by Thorfinn being shirtless. He’d seen it before, he’d known how lean and muscular his body was. How effortlessly strong he looked for such a small man. Like so many of the warriors he’d had were.

Oh, he was doing it again.

He cleared his throat.

“Well, Askeladd did suggest it.” He admitted. “I didn’t realise you weren’t, uh, into it. My apologies.”

Thorfinn frowned at him.

“Whatever.” He shrugged. “Getting your dick wet hardly makes someone a man, so I never really got what he meant.”

Canute laughed slightly and caught another glare. He jumped under its intensity.

“Ah, sorry.” He raised a hand. “Just remembering what my father said.”

“Your father, the king.” Thorfinn replied blankly, as if he really didn’t care. Canute sighed, knowing he really probably didn’t care at all.

“He sent me two of his hareem on my fifteenth birthday. So they could, ahem,” he looked nervously at the floor, not sure why he felt a blush creeping up, “teach me.”

Thorfinn was raising a sceptical brow.

“Well, he also told me that it would make me a man, and therefore a better son, so…” He shrugged.

“Lot of good that did him.” Thorfinn chuckled. “Had to get you nearly killed for that to happen.”

Canute flinched and looked up at him, annoyed by the low blow.

“Oh, and you can show some colour.” Thorfinn laughed, turning to drop his shirt onto his bed, putting his needle and thread away in a small pack. “Next time Askeladd suggests something to entertain me, don’t bother.” Thorfinn added. “He’s just trying to distract me.”

“From killing him.” Canute guessed.

“Probably.” Thorfinn shrugged. “Or he’s fucking with me.” He sighed. “He enjoys that, too.

“Or,” Canute said carefully, “he wants you to know what it’s like.”

Thorfinn stilled, standing facing his small bed, piled with furs and fresh straw. Canute silenced himself, realising that he knew that stillness. From watching Thorfinn react to danger. On the battlefield when he rescued him.

Silence for a long moment. Canute watched the even rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. The tension along the curve of his back, the rigidity in his arms and fists.

“Fuck off, princess.” He said, dark and low. Voice snarling across the small room over the sound of the fire behind him.

“Why?” Canute said, not sure why he was pushing. “Because I might be right?”

Thorfinn’s head snapped around to look at him, anger rolling off him in waves. Canute was long used to it by now, though, and remained calm and still.

“Just because your daddy thought you were weak doesn’t mean the rest of us need a fuck.” Thorfinn growled, turning to face him, thankfully free of weapons. “Some of us are fine without it.”

Canute glared at him in reply, knowing that he was just trying to get a rise out of him with the ‘daddy’ remark. But unable to stop himself stepping up to it.

“Then you’d be just as fine with one, right?” He challenged, taking a couple of steps forward. “So, what are you afraid of?”

Thorfinn looked a little taken aback at Canutes reply. At the prince actually stepping toward him despite the fact Thorfinn was so dangerous. Confident that he wouldn’t hurt him.

“Afraid of?” Thorfinn repeated, as if he was unable to comprehend the assertion.

“Only reason you don’t let the women do what they’ve been asked, right?” Canute continued forward, into Thorfinns range. He flinched a little as he came to a stop. “Sending them back to me, apologising for their failure. Making them feel like they can’t do a simple thing like get a teenager to fuck.”

Thorfinn blinked at him, his gaze hardening as he realised he was being chastised by someone his own age, annoyance flaring over his surprise that Canute was talking to him like this.

“Since when am I required to make your slaves feel good at their job?” He asked. “Maybe you should have considered the source of the suggestion a little more, princess.” Thorfinn added. “You know how much Askeladd loves fucking with people.”

“I do.” Canute agreed. “I also know how fucking tense and worked up you are all the time, so forgive me for thinking you might need a little release.”

“Release?” Thorfinn snarled, moving into Canute’s face. He smelled slightly like whatever soap the women had used with him. “The only release I need is killing Askeladd. Not that a princess would-”

“Right, I’m a prince.” Cantue interrupted, letting himself smile, close enough now to get the gist of the issue. “So I get what I want.”

“What?” Thorfinn looked thrown by the rapid change in direction. “What you… What do you want, then, Princess? For-”

“For you to know what it’s like.” Canute snapped, leaning forwards, reaching up with his hands and pulling the shorter boy into a kiss.

Thorfinn instantly grabbed his shirt, his defensive nature kicking in, stiffening as Canute’s lips pressed against him and then freezing in shock. Canute moved forward, pressing him backwards a step and Thorfinn yielded the ground.

Canute did love to be proved right, on occasion. The slight pressure in his pants, the teasing, the warmth in a cool room. Thorfinn didn’t want to sleep with a woman. He probably wanted to just fuck men.

Canute was okay with that. He was happy with any intimacy at all, having been so deprived of it for so long.

Thorfinn caved after a second of surprised tension, tilting his head and opening his mouth, kissing Canute back. Little parts at a time, like he was trying to learn what he was doing as he went.

Fuck, he tasted good. There was something about kissing a man that Canute loved. The harsher scent, maybe, the stronger grip. Thorfinn pulled him in by the shirt, his strong arms easily hauling him forward. Canute slid his arms over his shoulders, wrapping himself around him, pressing his body close so he could feel Thorfinn’s arousal. A firm length pressing into his thigh through his trousers. Canute pressed his own arousal against Thorfinn hip, groaning a little at the contact.

Thorfinn broke away to try and manage a staggered breath, looking at him with confused, dazed eyes. Like he’d been taken completely by surprise.

“What the fuck?” He breathed.

“This is nicer than arguing.” Canute told him, leaning forward to press a kiss against his jawline. “I’d feel bad leaving you to be with your hand. I’m sure you do that enough.”

“No… I…” Thorfinn was, for possibly the first time in his life, lost for words. Canute smiled at him and pushed him a little further backwards. Thorfinn caught the edge of the bed and sat heavily, swearing in surprise.

Canute leaned back, tearing at the stupid ties on his shirt so he could get the layers over his head quickly. Thorfinn stared at him.

“Oi…” He said. “What are you-”

Canute didn’t reply, pushing Thorfinn flat on the bed as he straddled him. He went slowly, but without much pressure. More surprised than anything else that this was happening.

Canute leaned down and kissed him again, Thorfinn’s hands twitched at his sides. He replied with more confidence this time, having caught on to the basic rhythm, kissing with a fierceness that warriors often did. Like it was the last kiss they’d ever get. A sense of desperation in them. A need.

Canute rolled his hips, grinding their groins together and Thorfinn growled under him with it. His hands gripping his thighs like a vice.

Gods, he was strong. He repeated the motion, moaning into Thorfinns mouth, grinding down on him. He didn’t notice Thorfinn’s hand moving until it fisted in his tied back hair. A sudden pull breaking them apart, pain in his scalp as his hair was pulled taught.

“Fuck.” He said softly, closing his eyes at the feeling. Tingling rushing through his bones and right to his dick. Thorfinn was trying to breathe next to him, had pulled him away to try and regain some self-control.

It was almost cute.

“Shit.” Thorfinn managed. “What the fuck, princess?”

“Exactly.” Canute agreed, moving to bite down on his shoulder, sucking gently on his flesh. “A fuck.”

The hand in his hair loosened in surprise, letting Canute move along his shoulder, bite at his neck gently, kiss up towards his ear and teasing his ear lobe between his teeth. He ground down again against Thorfinn and the groan it elicited was something out of a fucking poem. He did it again, trying to bring out more sounds from the usually stoic soldier.

“Fuck.” Thorfinn repeated. “I’m gonna get killed for this.” He muttered, the hand in Canutes hair tightening again, gripping hard to haul him back to his mouth, bringing him in for a forceful kiss.

Canute was more than happy to oblige, the sense of Thorfinn wanting him, needing him was magical. Pleasure coursing through him in a way that surprised even him. Rarely were people forceful with him.

Rarely did it feel like they were willing to take.

Thorfinn didn’t care.

Canute, one handed, reached between them to start undoing Thorfinns pants, pulling at them until the loosened. The grip on his thigh dug in deeper, fingers pressing bruises into his muscle.

Thorfinn froze for a second as Canute tried to pull his cock free, but bucked into him as he gripped around it, drawing it out of the fabric. It was hard and hot in his hand, the feeling of pre-cum rubbing on his palm.

“Of course.” Canute said into his mouth. “Of course you’ve got a great cock, too.” He squeezed down on it, massaging along its length and Thorfinn made a noise like he was thanking Odin.

Canute sat up, pulled away from Thorfinns death grip on his hair, quickly opening his own pants to free his own cock. His skin pale in comparison to Thorfinn. Who was spread out under him, looking strong and desperate for contact.

It took a few seconds of struggle, but eventually Canute got a hand around both of them, grinding them together as his hand worked up and down. Thorfinn came up to an elbow, reaching for him, gripping his neck to pull him back down. He didn’t quite have the purchase to fuck into his hand, but he moved with Canute, trying to figure out the pattern or rhythm. His motions were desperate and needy, his kisses broken and breathy. Canute could feel him pressing bruises into his hip, now, trying to pull him impossibly closer. The hand back in his hair like it was trying to pull his scalp free. Canute didn’t mind, the pain and force driving the heat pooling in his gut, the breathy moans he sent into Thorfinns mouth, or against his cheek when they stopped to breathe.

He lapped up Thorfinns grunts and expletives, tried to help guide him to breathe. But he wanted to cum, trying to move his hand harder, a little faster. This would be easier with oil, he thought bitterly.

Next time.

“Fuck.” Thorfinn snarled, his movements stalling for a second, tension rolling through him.

There was a wet heat against Canutes hands as the boy came, the prince following him a second or two later, the white daze of release blinding him for a second, dulling the pain in his scalp and hip and thigh where he’d been grabbed.

When he blinked back into the world he was breathing against Thorfinns shoulder, slumped into his chest as it rose and fell heavily. The sound of the warrior gently snoring under him.