Chapter 7 - A Patient
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A Patient
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"It's beautiful in here,” Sten whispered; his attention roaming over the warm, carved woods and brightly patterned furnishings of Rask’s home as the bergsr? carried him in. “All that outside… It was only your barn, wasn't it?"
Rask nodded, distracted as mulled over where to set Sten down.
He needed to examine the man's injured ankle, but they were both still drenched and muddy from the rain.
Already dripping water all over Rask's stone floor, he didn't relish having to clean the big braided rug under his kitchen table — or worse, one of the overstuffed armchairs by the bookshelves…
Sten shivered, making up Rask's mind for him.
"Rask show Sten sauna," Rask asked, already moving in that direction. "Unless Sten hungry?"
"Yes," Sten answered with a cheeky grin. "To both. But sauna first, I think."
The little wooden stairs down to the rock-walled understory were narrow and steep, and Rask had to take extra care going down them sideways so he could fit them both.
The glowmoss down here was overdue to be changed out for fresh, Rask noted, the dim amber light barely illuminating the sparsely adorned hall.
At the furthest end, beyond the root cellar and the pantry, lay the bathing chamber; Rask pointing each out for Sten as they walked by each identical pine door. And tucked in the corner just outside, there was an old basket of clean, folded rags Rask kept down here to dry off with.
"Messy too small for sauna," Rask murmured, careful not to disturb the pup sleeping in Sten's lap as he nodded at the basket. "Safe here. Cozy."
Between the steep stairs, the sturdy pine doors, and the walls of timber-braced stacked rock and solid earth behind that?
There was nowhere for Sten's pup to go should she wake.
Still in the sling in which he'd carried her up in, Messy didn't even stir as Sten gently lowered the entire bag into the basket.
Safe and secure in the basket, its sides of woven river reeds were high enough to keep her from falling out in her sleep.
Inside, Rask pointed out the two pine doors set into the far wall of the bathing chamber; the necessary on the left, and the sauna on the right. The main room itself was more stacked rock and timber; the raw trunks oiled and aged until they gleamed a warm gold.
It was not a terribly large space, and Hjarta had forever talked about extending it one day. But Sten was much smaller than a bergsr?, and stuck attentively close to Rask's side as he explained how everything worked, so it suited well enough.
He showed Sten the little fissure in the wall where fresh water seeped up from an underground spring, before collecting in a glossy obsidian bowl Rask had set into a ledge below it.
From there it spilled over the sides into a sluice running along the room’s edge, before disappearing into a channel set into the wall separating this chamber from the adjoining privy, and eventually heading onward back into the ground below from there.
Placing both hands on either side of the smooth black basin, Rask hummed.
He asked the volcanic glass to remember the days it flowed like water; to Sing with him the melody of warmth.
Soon, steam rose from the water's surface as the stone recalled snatches of the ancient Song, and Rask ducked into the sauna to do the same with the metal basket of scoria stacked in the sauna's corner.
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 bergsr? 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 bergsr? 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. Bergsr?r 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 bergsr?'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 bergsr?.
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 bergsr? 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?"
"Maybe," Rask answered. "Maybe not. Sten wish to see?"
"…Alright," Sten replied, still holding himself taut as a bowstring. "Do whatever you have to. I trust you, Rask."
Rask frowned as he fit his hands to the man's ankle once more, humming low in his throat as he assessed the damage.
Sten had said it so easily. But Rask was bergsr?, and fae, and growing increasingly aware of how much he'd like to shove this little human onto the sauna floor and learn just what it took to make him pant and moan.
He revealed none of that, of course, no more willing to frighten Sten than cut off his own nose. Instead, Rask tried to distract himself with the task at hand; or with the man's ankles, which turned out to be surprisingly nice, as were his feet, his calves, his —
Rask dropped his eyes, and started humming louder.
But for all that Sten was so obviously not a bergsr?, he was well-formed enough for his smaller size, Rask supposed.
Reaching for the melody flowing within Sten, he found the place in the man's ankle where the sour notes sluggishly pulsed.
Rask's pitch changed slightly to match; urging the bruising to disperse, the swelling to calm, the pain to fade.
Sten had closed his eyes again as Rask worked, brow furrowing, his breath coming out as a slow, measured hiss.
Rask froze, holding the note. "Sten hurt?" he asked, worried.
"S'fine," Sten answered, his reply strained. "S'nice. Good, actually. Um, carry on." He gave a weak chuckle, fingers flicking slightly, teeth flashing white against his beard as he bit his lip.
Uncertain, Rask resumed, this time with greater caution, and soon it was done.
"There," Rask said, rubbing Sten's ankle. "Now Sten heal much faster."
Sten flexed his foot gingerly as Rask rose, singing to the volcanic stones that they should warm up again before taking a seat on the bench beside the man.
"Blessed Eir, that feels so much better.
Thank you, Rask. And uh… thank you for everything else too," Sten said, flashing Rask a small, fervent smile.
"Y'know, this place really is a wonder; the house, the bathing chamber, and — oh — the things I'd do to use this sauna every day. Did you build all this yourself?”
"Hjarta and Rask, together,” Rask rumbled as he leaned back against the smoothed stone wall, pride filling his chest at Sten’s admiration of their work.
"Hjarta?" Sten echoed, frowning in confusion at Rask. "What's that?"
"Not what," Rask corrected gently. "Who. Hjarta Rask's mate."
Sten twisted abruptly in his seat to face Rask, those eyes of his gone wide once again.
"Your…mate," Sten repeated in a low voice. "I thought you said you didn't have one?"
Rask shrugged. "Hjarta died many years ago. Still Rask's mate."
"True," Sten said as he settled back against the wall, his teeth worrying his bottom lip as if trying to work something out. "Can I ask what happened?"
He glanced over at Rask, and the bergsr? melted under the warmth and concern in his expression, somehow finding it impossible that he should deny this little human anything…