Page 19 of Heart of the Mountain King

Leaving it to heat the room, he turned back to the main chamber. Only to find Sten had gotten a head start at peeling himself out of his wet clothing; broad swathes of bared skin already on display, with more being revealed every moment.

Rask swallowed harshly, reminding himself that however friendly Sten was, he was only here because he had to be. That he was a human, and his species was strange about partnering with others, especially of their own gender. That he was proving to be good company, and Rask couldn't risk scaring him off.

The human's proximity didn't help any either. The bathing chamber was small enough that Sten seemed to find little trouble staying off his injured ankle, keeping one hand splayed against the stone wall for balance. They maneuvered around each other wordlessly as they washed up, with a casual familiarity that seeped into Rask's bones as easily as the room's growing warmth.

He blinked at the small, pale hand that landed hard on his shoulder, mind slowly waking up to Sten's sheepishly muttered, "Sorry." The human bracing himself against Rask was as unexpected as the discovery of Rask's own palm on Sten's bare hip, catching him mid-fall.

"Sten alright?" Rask asked as his memory caught up; the human had tripped, the bergsrå had stopped him from falling. A simple enough equation.

So why was Rask's hand still on Sten's hip; his face heating further with each passing moment it stayed there?

"I'm fine." Sten offered a small, embarrassed smile as Rask helped set him back to rights. "Darn stone floor must've jumped out at me."

Glaring at the rocks beneath his feet, Rask reached for the Song.

"It's only a joke, Rask." Sten laughed, clapping the disgruntled bergsrå on the shoulder. "I was clumsy."

Unsure, Rask merely grunted as Sten turned away. But he hummed a low warning to the flat stones of the chamber's floor just to be safe, lest they get any ideas.

As they washed off the worst of the mud, Rask did his best not to stare too much so he didn’t make Sten uncomfortable. He struggled, too, to ignore how the hair on the human's chest continued trailing over his belly, and then even further down, begging to be touched, but…

It was so very difficult. Bergsrår didn't grow hair on their legs, while Sten's were thick forests of it. It was hard not to think about what that might feel like, hooked over Rask's shoulders. Or with one arm clamping those thighs to the bergsrå's chest, the other steadying his cock as Rask sank into the human's glorious heat…

"Rask?" Sten asked in the tone of someone repeating themselves, holding out the scrubbing brush. "Think you could help get my back?"

"…Alright."

It was a strange sort of torture, watching the bristles slide along the slopes of Sten's shoulders and spine, and not getting to touch any of that expanse himself. His muscles bunched and quivered under taut, scar-streaked skin; waiting for Rask to pour ladlefuls of water from the basin over him, rinsing him off. He fought his own body's reaction, enraptured by Sten's soft moans as the heated rivulets sluiced down the human's back.

"I daresay not even Jarl Egarth has it so good," Sten sighed happily as Rask poured out another measure just to watch how it made those taut muscles of the man's shoulders relax.

For his part, Rask rushed his own ablutions. Hastily he tossed his belt and loincloth into the growing pile by the door to deal with later, scrubbing himself down roughly with a wet cloth. He couldn't be certain, but at one point Rask thought he caught Sten looking at him; lips formed into an O that had Rask slowing down his motions, if not fighting the urge to preen.

In no time at all they were sufficiently clean for the sauna; the warmth inside having reached a pleasing temperature for a bergsrå.

Rask frowned.

"Sten check if too hot," he directed, gesturing to the little room and stepping aside just enough for Sten to pass through.

It put him in the perfect position to see the expression of hedonistic delight roll over his face.

"Oh, that'll do nicely," Sten said, his hand absently reaching for Rask's and letting the bergsrå steady him; arranging him on the long wooden bench at the rear of the chamber, his legs stretched out before him.

"Mmm, that's good," Sten murmured approvingly, closing his eyes and leaning against the wall comfortably. "Be careful, Rask. Keep spoiling me like this, and I might never leave your mountain."

Oh, if only.

"Rask?!" Sten yelped as he scrambled upright, his entire body going stiff.

Rask glanced up from where he'd knelt at Sten's feet, his hands gently stroking the fragile human's hurt ankle to see the extent of the injury.

"Sten not worry," Rask told him gruffly. "Rask careful."

Sten didn't seem to find this reassuring, however, judging by the way he held his body so stiffly.

"Relax," Rask said, patting the bare skin of the little human's knee while furiously attempting to ignore how close the gesture put him to the man's cock. "Sten feel much better if Rask fix ankle."

"Oh, uh… Yeah," Sten replied, his voice tight again. "You can do that?"