mlyn
in
13_warrior
Fic: Gods and Monsters, Part 1
Gods and Monsters, Part 1
Rated NC-17 for graphic m/m sex, voyeurism, wanking.
Notes: If nobody on the internet will do it for me, I'll do it myself.
Archive: at my site, omgflail, and here only.
Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan Ibn Al Abbas Ibn Rashid Ibn Hamad knelt on the soft thick moss and put his hands in front of his knees, bending until his forehead touched his knuckles.
Allah help him, he was a sinner.
He sat back and looked up, catching sight of the pale blue sky between the stark, scraggly tree branches. The sky was the same, but everything was so different here. It was cold and wet, and the life forms were completely alien to him. This place had its own beauty, but it was as severe as it was breathtaking.
He was becoming accustomed to having his aesthetic tastes challenged. The meals of the Northmen were flavorful but crude. They wore their hair long and tangled, but Ahmed had never seen such a light golden color as the sun teased from Herger the Joyous's locks. Their music and singing...Ahmed had no words to describe it. It was just odd.
He was supposed to be an ambassador, open to other cultures and spreading the wealth and culture of his native land. What his journey had turned into was a mockery of the refinement he represented and sought. Instead he had abandoned his country, his ethics, and his God.
And, may Allah spare him, he found himself revelling in this new life.
Ahmed closed his eyes and prostrated himself a second time. Tears stung his eyes as he forced himself to continue recounting his sins. He pressed his face and hands to the ground, inhaling the musty smell of earth.
Mohammad, peace and blessings be upon you. May your teachings guide me to return to the grace and purity of Allah. My sins are thus: I have killed men. I have not prayed daily. And I have felt lust for...
He couldn't bring himself to even think it.
***
Herger drained the last of the mead in his flagon and let it drop to the ground, landing on a pile of his armor. He wiped his mouth with thickened fingers, feeling his head spin. He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation.
The Thirteen were not supposed to drink so heavily at this most dangerous and important time, but Herger had been given special permission from Buliwyf.
He was Buliwyf's favorite; everyone knew it. And Buliwyf hated to see Herger losing his concentration in the face of something more tantalizing. He needed to fight as well as he ever did, and he just couldn't with what was distracting him. So they spent the night getting drunk and releasing tension. Herger had accomplished half that.
Buliwyf stoked the fire and put on another chunk of fir, the sap snapping and crackling. The flames and embers rose high, throwing light onto his severe face. He was watching Herger.
"Well?" he said, voice grumbling.
Herger nodded. He knew what Buliwyf was asking. They'd been friends for so long, they no longer needed words.
Buliwyf got up and retrieved their furs, spreading them out next to the fire. They were near the Watchtower, though no one was on watch tonight. And no one had questioned Buliwyf's decision for the reduced watch.
Herger lost time staring into the flames, his face flushed from heat and drink. Finally Buliwyf pulled him up by an arm, guiding him to the makeshift bed. Herger sank to his knees, swaying gently as his body fought to keep balance. Buliwyf knelt behind him, breath ruffling Herger's hair. He pulled Herger's shirt out of the waist of his leather pants, stripping it over his head in one smooth move. A brief rustle told him Buliwyf had stripped off his own shirt. Hard arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him back. He sat with practiced ease, his ass nestling into Buliwyf's lap.
Buliwyf bent his head, white-blond hair falling over Herger's shoulder. "You can pretend with me."
Herger moaned and let his head drop back to Buliwyf's chest. Buliwyf knew exactly what to say and do, in this as in all things. So Herger kept his eyes closed, and imagined it was Eben behind him.
Knowing hands teased and petted his chest while a hot mouth explored his throat. His lover used teeth and tongue to stimulate, firing all the nerves in his ear and neck to hot arousal. At the same time, rough, calloused fingers pinched his nipples and rubbed his stomach.
In no time at all he was writhing with pleasure, hips rolling and pressing into the lap beneath him. His lover took pity and pushed into his trousers, fingers loosening the leather ties and pressing into his hot groin. They played briefly with the blond curls surrounding his prick, then pulled it free.
Herger pushed his trousers down his thighs, then tried reaching behind him for his lover's own trousers. One rough hand grabbed his wrists and held them behind his back, the other continuing to stroke his cock. Fluid seeped from the head and eased the friction, but the increased pleasure was more maddening than anything.
"Please!" He turned his head into his lover's neck, struggling against the hold on his wrists. Both hands released him, reached between them, and began removing the last clothing barrier. Herger fell forward onto his hands and shuddered.
Olga was going to be angry when she found out what they'd done with her salve.
His lover pulled him back upright, a hand on his hip guiding him. Always eager for pleasures of the flesh, he pushed back on his own and pushed himself onto his lover's staff. A groan rumbled in his ear in reaction.
"By all the gods, Little Brother," he panted.
The groan changed to words, the voice amused and warm. "Only Loki favors you, you hedonist."
Speaking was the wrong thing to do; it brought Herger back to reality. It wasn't as though this was new to either him or Buliwyf, however. He rolled his hips and felt his body shift to adjust. "Still your tongue," he mumbled, head spinning.
That tongue traced a pattern on his shoulder instead. He twitched at the tickling sensation, lifting his pelvis and pushing his needy cock into the fire-charged air, making his lover's prick slide out of him. His lover pulled him back, and the fucking began in earnest.
***
Ahmed slid from the saddle and patted his horse's flank, sending it back down the hill. It had taken some effort to find out where Herger and Buliwyf had gone, but Edgtho had finally looked pointedly up toward the Watchtower before leaving his seat for another flagon of water.
Ahmed had finished his meal quickly and set off, tense with anger, wanting to know exactly why their leader and their best fighter had abandoned them.
The scent of wood smoke led him here, to this small clearing and quiet fire. He could catch glimpses of Herger and Buliwyf through the dense underbrush, but couldn't discern what they were doing. Neither of them were talking, which seemed odd for two men sneaking off when battle could be expected at any hour. What could they possibly find necessary enough to pursue in secrecy and silence?
A low groan caught his attention.
He cleared a space for his body and stretched out on the earth, finally getting a good view of the two Norsemen. His eyes widened.
***
"Ah! Gods among us!" Herger twisted, hands scrabbling on his lover's thighs. Sweat ran down his throat and pooled above his collarbones, shimmering in the firelight. "Yess. Eben. Please. More, please, Little Brother, that's it..."
His lover grunted and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back. The surge of sensation flowed down Herger's chest and centered in his cock. He cried out wordlessly, his voice echoing in the trees. Flinging an arm back, he grabbed his lover's own hair and hung on.
His lover grunted again and pulled him as close as they could possibly get, teeth digging into his upraised arm, cock pulsing inside him. Herger moaned as he felt their combined energy ebb. He had not reached completion.
They fell heavily to their sides, legs and trousers tangling. Reaching around, his lover began stroking his cock again. Herger let out a strangled groan and humped frantically into the fist. Finally, he was granted some release from his furious lust, and spent into his lover's hand. He bit his lip and held back his final cry, and whimpered softly as he came down from his climax.
***
Ahmed released his aching lip from between his teeth and looked down at his hand. Making a face, he rubbed his palm clean on a clump of fern nearby, then hastily refastened his trousers. With his release, reason had quickly returned. He had to leave before they found him.
He had to pray for forgiveness.
He needed some insight to deal with the way he felt.
***
The only indication of another's presence was the sudden dip in the surface of the soil next to him. Ahmed sat back quickly, making eye contact as Herger knelt in the same moment.
"I did not hear you," Ahmed mumbled.
"I know."
Pushing off his knees, Ahmed rose and retrieved his boots. He felt raw and hollowed out, and he wasn't sure he could keep up a conversation in Norse while in this state. But ignoring Herger would be rude.
"How may I serve you?" Ahmed winced as soon as he said the words. He just didn't have the vocabulary to say anything right. He'd only meant to ask what Herger wanted.
Herger grinned at the mistake but simply said, "I do not require your services. I came to find you, Little Brother. We must finish readying ourselves for the Wendol."
Ahmed's face flushed as he picked up his cloak, fastening it in jerky movements. "I will follow." He would follow Herger anywhere; back to the lodge, into battle, to the beyond. It frightened him, how he felt.
Herger stepped back but didn't leave. He seemed hesitant to say something. Ahmed continued collecting his gear and mounted his horse.
"Eben," Herger started. He paused and blew out a breath, kicking a clump of moss. Ahmed brought his horse closer and waited.
Herger hesitated, then put a hand on Ahmed's bent knee. He looked up and their eyes met. "I..." He trailed off.
Suddenly, Ahmed could see the meaning in his clear blue eyes. The hand on his knee tightened incrementally, power thrumming in Herger's fingers. Ahmed's breath caught in his chest.
Then Herger seemed to collect himself and resumed. "Don't get yourself killed if you can help it. You came all this way. You have to survive."
Ahmed covered Herger's hand on his knee, feeling the warmth and strength. "I have no plan to fail you." He dearly wanted to say "or leave you," or to lean down and press his mouth to Herger's lips, or to curl his body around that of the blond Northman and feel him shudder in pleasure. But he couldn't.
Instead, the knowledge that Herger cared was enough to warm his heart. Even though Herger couldn't bring himself to say it, nor could Ahmed. They didn't need words now.
Instead he patted Herger's hand, then clicked to his mount and started down the hill.
Part 2
Rated NC-17 for graphic m/m sex, voyeurism, wanking.
Notes: If nobody on the internet will do it for me, I'll do it myself.
Archive: at my site, omgflail, and here only.
Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan Ibn Al Abbas Ibn Rashid Ibn Hamad knelt on the soft thick moss and put his hands in front of his knees, bending until his forehead touched his knuckles.
Allah help him, he was a sinner.
He sat back and looked up, catching sight of the pale blue sky between the stark, scraggly tree branches. The sky was the same, but everything was so different here. It was cold and wet, and the life forms were completely alien to him. This place had its own beauty, but it was as severe as it was breathtaking.
He was becoming accustomed to having his aesthetic tastes challenged. The meals of the Northmen were flavorful but crude. They wore their hair long and tangled, but Ahmed had never seen such a light golden color as the sun teased from Herger the Joyous's locks. Their music and singing...Ahmed had no words to describe it. It was just odd.
He was supposed to be an ambassador, open to other cultures and spreading the wealth and culture of his native land. What his journey had turned into was a mockery of the refinement he represented and sought. Instead he had abandoned his country, his ethics, and his God.
And, may Allah spare him, he found himself revelling in this new life.
Ahmed closed his eyes and prostrated himself a second time. Tears stung his eyes as he forced himself to continue recounting his sins. He pressed his face and hands to the ground, inhaling the musty smell of earth.
Mohammad, peace and blessings be upon you. May your teachings guide me to return to the grace and purity of Allah. My sins are thus: I have killed men. I have not prayed daily. And I have felt lust for...
He couldn't bring himself to even think it.
***
Herger drained the last of the mead in his flagon and let it drop to the ground, landing on a pile of his armor. He wiped his mouth with thickened fingers, feeling his head spin. He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation.
The Thirteen were not supposed to drink so heavily at this most dangerous and important time, but Herger had been given special permission from Buliwyf.
He was Buliwyf's favorite; everyone knew it. And Buliwyf hated to see Herger losing his concentration in the face of something more tantalizing. He needed to fight as well as he ever did, and he just couldn't with what was distracting him. So they spent the night getting drunk and releasing tension. Herger had accomplished half that.
Buliwyf stoked the fire and put on another chunk of fir, the sap snapping and crackling. The flames and embers rose high, throwing light onto his severe face. He was watching Herger.
"Well?" he said, voice grumbling.
Herger nodded. He knew what Buliwyf was asking. They'd been friends for so long, they no longer needed words.
Buliwyf got up and retrieved their furs, spreading them out next to the fire. They were near the Watchtower, though no one was on watch tonight. And no one had questioned Buliwyf's decision for the reduced watch.
Herger lost time staring into the flames, his face flushed from heat and drink. Finally Buliwyf pulled him up by an arm, guiding him to the makeshift bed. Herger sank to his knees, swaying gently as his body fought to keep balance. Buliwyf knelt behind him, breath ruffling Herger's hair. He pulled Herger's shirt out of the waist of his leather pants, stripping it over his head in one smooth move. A brief rustle told him Buliwyf had stripped off his own shirt. Hard arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him back. He sat with practiced ease, his ass nestling into Buliwyf's lap.
Buliwyf bent his head, white-blond hair falling over Herger's shoulder. "You can pretend with me."
Herger moaned and let his head drop back to Buliwyf's chest. Buliwyf knew exactly what to say and do, in this as in all things. So Herger kept his eyes closed, and imagined it was Eben behind him.
Knowing hands teased and petted his chest while a hot mouth explored his throat. His lover used teeth and tongue to stimulate, firing all the nerves in his ear and neck to hot arousal. At the same time, rough, calloused fingers pinched his nipples and rubbed his stomach.
In no time at all he was writhing with pleasure, hips rolling and pressing into the lap beneath him. His lover took pity and pushed into his trousers, fingers loosening the leather ties and pressing into his hot groin. They played briefly with the blond curls surrounding his prick, then pulled it free.
Herger pushed his trousers down his thighs, then tried reaching behind him for his lover's own trousers. One rough hand grabbed his wrists and held them behind his back, the other continuing to stroke his cock. Fluid seeped from the head and eased the friction, but the increased pleasure was more maddening than anything.
"Please!" He turned his head into his lover's neck, struggling against the hold on his wrists. Both hands released him, reached between them, and began removing the last clothing barrier. Herger fell forward onto his hands and shuddered.
Olga was going to be angry when she found out what they'd done with her salve.
His lover pulled him back upright, a hand on his hip guiding him. Always eager for pleasures of the flesh, he pushed back on his own and pushed himself onto his lover's staff. A groan rumbled in his ear in reaction.
"By all the gods, Little Brother," he panted.
The groan changed to words, the voice amused and warm. "Only Loki favors you, you hedonist."
Speaking was the wrong thing to do; it brought Herger back to reality. It wasn't as though this was new to either him or Buliwyf, however. He rolled his hips and felt his body shift to adjust. "Still your tongue," he mumbled, head spinning.
That tongue traced a pattern on his shoulder instead. He twitched at the tickling sensation, lifting his pelvis and pushing his needy cock into the fire-charged air, making his lover's prick slide out of him. His lover pulled him back, and the fucking began in earnest.
***
Ahmed slid from the saddle and patted his horse's flank, sending it back down the hill. It had taken some effort to find out where Herger and Buliwyf had gone, but Edgtho had finally looked pointedly up toward the Watchtower before leaving his seat for another flagon of water.
Ahmed had finished his meal quickly and set off, tense with anger, wanting to know exactly why their leader and their best fighter had abandoned them.
The scent of wood smoke led him here, to this small clearing and quiet fire. He could catch glimpses of Herger and Buliwyf through the dense underbrush, but couldn't discern what they were doing. Neither of them were talking, which seemed odd for two men sneaking off when battle could be expected at any hour. What could they possibly find necessary enough to pursue in secrecy and silence?
A low groan caught his attention.
He cleared a space for his body and stretched out on the earth, finally getting a good view of the two Norsemen. His eyes widened.
***
"Ah! Gods among us!" Herger twisted, hands scrabbling on his lover's thighs. Sweat ran down his throat and pooled above his collarbones, shimmering in the firelight. "Yess. Eben. Please. More, please, Little Brother, that's it..."
His lover grunted and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back. The surge of sensation flowed down Herger's chest and centered in his cock. He cried out wordlessly, his voice echoing in the trees. Flinging an arm back, he grabbed his lover's own hair and hung on.
His lover grunted again and pulled him as close as they could possibly get, teeth digging into his upraised arm, cock pulsing inside him. Herger moaned as he felt their combined energy ebb. He had not reached completion.
They fell heavily to their sides, legs and trousers tangling. Reaching around, his lover began stroking his cock again. Herger let out a strangled groan and humped frantically into the fist. Finally, he was granted some release from his furious lust, and spent into his lover's hand. He bit his lip and held back his final cry, and whimpered softly as he came down from his climax.
***
Ahmed released his aching lip from between his teeth and looked down at his hand. Making a face, he rubbed his palm clean on a clump of fern nearby, then hastily refastened his trousers. With his release, reason had quickly returned. He had to leave before they found him.
He had to pray for forgiveness.
He needed some insight to deal with the way he felt.
***
The only indication of another's presence was the sudden dip in the surface of the soil next to him. Ahmed sat back quickly, making eye contact as Herger knelt in the same moment.
"I did not hear you," Ahmed mumbled.
"I know."
Pushing off his knees, Ahmed rose and retrieved his boots. He felt raw and hollowed out, and he wasn't sure he could keep up a conversation in Norse while in this state. But ignoring Herger would be rude.
"How may I serve you?" Ahmed winced as soon as he said the words. He just didn't have the vocabulary to say anything right. He'd only meant to ask what Herger wanted.
Herger grinned at the mistake but simply said, "I do not require your services. I came to find you, Little Brother. We must finish readying ourselves for the Wendol."
Ahmed's face flushed as he picked up his cloak, fastening it in jerky movements. "I will follow." He would follow Herger anywhere; back to the lodge, into battle, to the beyond. It frightened him, how he felt.
Herger stepped back but didn't leave. He seemed hesitant to say something. Ahmed continued collecting his gear and mounted his horse.
"Eben," Herger started. He paused and blew out a breath, kicking a clump of moss. Ahmed brought his horse closer and waited.
Herger hesitated, then put a hand on Ahmed's bent knee. He looked up and their eyes met. "I..." He trailed off.
Suddenly, Ahmed could see the meaning in his clear blue eyes. The hand on his knee tightened incrementally, power thrumming in Herger's fingers. Ahmed's breath caught in his chest.
Then Herger seemed to collect himself and resumed. "Don't get yourself killed if you can help it. You came all this way. You have to survive."
Ahmed covered Herger's hand on his knee, feeling the warmth and strength. "I have no plan to fail you." He dearly wanted to say "or leave you," or to lean down and press his mouth to Herger's lips, or to curl his body around that of the blond Northman and feel him shudder in pleasure. But he couldn't.
Instead, the knowledge that Herger cared was enough to warm his heart. Even though Herger couldn't bring himself to say it, nor could Ahmed. They didn't need words now.
Instead he patted Herger's hand, then clicked to his mount and started down the hill.
Part 2