Of Vikings and the World

Of Vikings and the World

Outside

"Skjaldr! Come the fuck on!"

Skjaldr rolled his eyes. He did not know what Asgeir wanted that urged so fucking much, but when he'd find out, he'd probably punch the brunette. Asgeir was usually a patient man, yet still prone to aggressive outbursts. Whatever was currently happening held enough importance for Asgeir to scream about it for two or three minutes already.

"Skjaldr!!"

Icy blue eyes rolled. If he hadn't been trying to cook, Skjaldr would have gladly come off the balcony and checked what-fucking-ever Asgeir yelled about. The people surrounding the barbecue – Asgeir's coworkers and some of their common friends – managed fairly well at egging the brunette on, much to Skjaldr's dismay.

"Will you hurry the fuck up already?!"

"Skjaldr's busy shoving the sausages up his ass!"

That was it. The blond turned the deer sausages over. Exasperated, he nudged the party's host and motioned to the barbecue with his head. "Can you watch that for me while I shut Asgeir up?"

The host – a small Ukrainian guy with a love of tattoos and piercings – chortled and nodded. "Go right ahead, friend."

"Thanks." Skjaldr nodded back and gave the man a pat on the back, then quickly slipped out of the small crowd. He made his way down the balcony stairs, past the picnic table, dodged an incoming basketball, and finally joined his lover.

Asgeir waited for him near their car. Arms crossed over his chest, he tapped his foot. Of course, he couldn't stay mad at the blond. He relaxed his stance, and a soft smile grew on his lips. "Got something to show you."

"Better be important. That food won't cook itself," Skjaldr stated as he threw one last glance over his shoulder, towards the barbecue.

"Don't worry, we won't be gone too long."

The brunette grabbed Skjaldr's arm and directed him towards the next block, specifically, in a narrow back alley that stretched behind several buildings. A patch of thick, healthy vines covered the brick walls. The area looked well-tended to, clean of garbage and pests.

"Did you find something?" the blond finally asked. His curious gaze floated all over the place, but he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. He had expected a litter of kittens or puppies hidden somewhere in a corner, or a neat bug in the vines. He turned to the other man and quirked a brow. "Asgeir?"

He was met with a wide, playful grin. Asgeir urged him forward, until they reached a small corner, away from prying eyes.

Skjaldr returned the grin and chuckled. "I should have known you wanted that."

"Couldn't wait any longer. Sorry."

Their lips locked in a rough, deep, yet short kiss. Asgeir put a hand on the blond's side and gave him a light push. Skjaldr turned around and tugged at his zipper. He barely had the time to succeed when his lover brought the jeans down to his knees.

"I can't believe this..." Skjaldr whispered, amused. The brunette pressed against his back and leaned over so his chin rested on Skjaldr's shoulder.

Asgeir laughed quietly. He brought two fingers to his lover's lips. "We've done worse before..." he spoke, his voice hushed. "Remember the hull of that boat, way back?" He quickly withdrew the digits from the other man's wet mouth and brought his hand down.

Skjaldr moaned, rather loudly. His breath hitched.

Still, he managed to reply to Asgeir. A childish, feverish grin tugged at his lips.

"Yeah... I remember... one day I'll get back at you for it..."