Athelstan hadn't really changed subjects. He still meant the sex, meant Dodger not stopping. "Dodger," he sighs. That had all been his fault. "All of it was my fault, Ragnar."
He doesn't know why Ragnar would leave. But a few options pop into his mind, that he's damaged now somehow or undesirable or more pertinent that Ragnar is angry at him or at Dodger and would leave for that. It is both an immediate and long term concern even more than he's letting himself focus on.
The monk lets Ragnar pull him closer, their foreheads pressing together and it's comforting. Athelstan lets out an unsteady breath and he closes his eyes because he's too close to tears again and he doesn't want to appear even weaker. he hasn't felt this weak in so long. He'd been powerless in attacking Dodger and even more so when he was under him and couldn't make him even budge an inch.
"You did nothing wrong," He said softly, still not quite sure what Athelstan thought was his fault, "He should not have done what he did. Not to you, not to anyone."
Or maybe... Was Athelstan feeling guilty simply for sleeping with him?
"You know I would never... never fault you for finding pleasure wherever you wished. You afford me that luxury, and I you," He mumbled reassuringly, "I know you say you do not seek it out, but it is fine. If you do, it is fine."
Now, he needed to try to figure out how Athelstan went from going to kill Dodger to sleeping with him, albeit unwillingly at some point in the evening... for the second time.
It's true that Athelstan felt guilty for sleeping with Dodger in the first place. Both times. The words both comfort and hurt at the same time. "I do not want anyone but you," Athelstan whispers and he knows that it must look otherwise. He feels the urge to pull away from Ragnar but he pushes it to the side. "The first time... the drink aside... I wanted...I just wanted to learn so I could know what to expect and I could...I could please you." he'd been embarrassed when he'd come to early, when he hadn't even been able to help Ragnar get off properly.
"And this time, I thought...I was stupid," he finally assesses.
Ragnar eased back to kneel in front of Athelstan again, his hand still on his knee. He just needed to see Athelstan like maybe seeing his face as he spoke would somehow make any of this make more sense.
He didn't argue with Athelstan's claim, though part of him, the stubborn little shit voice in his head wanted to mention Judith and point to Dodger. He was of the opinion that Athelstan would like to believe he didn't want anyone else and maybe, ninety-eight percent of the time, that was true, but sometimes those chance encounters where sparks just flew were difficult to say no to. Ragnar knew Athelstan wouldn't hear it though.
His brow furrowed at Athelstan's reasoning.
"But... Was I not... Have I not been... patient enough with you? Have I not... been showing you thing slowly? Introducing you to more and more?" He opened his mouth again and couldn't help but stop and exhale something almost like a laugh at how absurd all of this seemed, "Athelstan... I knew exactly who you were when... when we started. Why would you think any of that would matter? I did not expect for you to..."
He stopped, pausing, looking down, "If all you ever allowed me to do was... kiss you. Or sleep next to you... It would have been more been more than enough. Because it is you. I wanted you. Not," He shrugged his shoulders, "Sex. I have always just wanted you."
It was a raw truth, Ragnar almost looked nervous, pleading, scared that he'd laid himself so bare, that he'd made himself so vulnerable. But it was Athelstan. And he trusted him. With his life and his heart.
Athelstan didn't look away from Ragnar and at least for now he didn't feel like he was on the verge of crying again. Ragnar often says a lot without always saying very much -- but this time is very different. He stays quiet as Ragnar speaks, waiting until he believes him to be done. He reaches for his hand, holding it in both of his know and then pulling it to his lips.
He exhales softly against his hand, his eyes on Ragnar's face. He loves him so much that he doesn't know what to do with all of it sometimes.
"Ragnar, you... you've been perfect," Athelstan whispers and it's true. Ragnar has been a good friend and a good lover. The things that are wrong are because of Athelstan's own insecurities. It'd never been anything that Ragnar had said or done. "I wanted to be good. I've wanted to be worth it, all the time I made you wait," he whispers, all the time that Ragnar hasn't waited. "I didn't want to disappoint you."
He squeezes Ragnar's hand. "You've had me, Ragnar, even before you've known it. You've had my heart and my soul."
Athelstan lowers his hand. "I'm sorry I'm so foolish," he can't help but apologize despite the last time he had causing arguments. "I've been so afraid that I wouldn't be able to satisfy you and then... with...when I heard Ivar," he tries to explain but it feels a bit unimportant. "I felt like I was not good enough, that I wasn't enough."
He says it in past tense as if the insecurities aren't still there.
He watched silently as Athelstan brought his hand to his mouth to brush his lips over his skin. Turning it slightly to slip free of Athelstan's hands, he reached out to brush his fingers over Athelstan's cheek to cup his face, the tips of his fingers brushing the short, shaved sides of his hair.
Ragnar kept his gaze locked with Athelstan's, lips pressing into a flat line subtly when Athelstan assures him that he'd been perfect, something he doubted since Athelstan had been very obviously unhappy with him. He exhaled audibly, not realizing he'd been holding his breath as Athelstan spoke, and shook his head.
"There is no way you could ever disappoint me, Athelstan," He said it like a promise.
His eyes unfocused, falling idly to Athelstan's shirt as he tried to process everything.
"Is that why... you asked about sex? You do not consider the things we have done together to be sex?" Ragnar wasn't exactly walking on eggshells but the way he spoke made it clear that he'd chosen his words carefully.
Athelstan panics for a brief moment when Ragnar's hand slips from his, but the touch that followed has the panic subsiding quickly. He leans into the gentle touch, watching Ragnar's face even as he's still talking. When Ragnar replies, Athelstan's eyes drop because it's hard to believe. Athelstan feels like there are so many things he's not good at, or not good enough at that he may never become better at. Not just sex, other things as well.
He'll always be torn between two worlds, two beliefs even though he is held together by his love for Ragnar in a way. He wishes that he could fully commit to Ragnar's ways as much as he could commit to Ragnar. He looked back up at Ragnar at the question, but he isn't really looking at him as he spoke.
The question confuses him for a moment. "It's different, isn't it?" he questions, and he feels he's done or said something wrong. "When I say sex I mean," he wanted to say 'you know what I mean' but clearly Ragnar did not.
"You have never been inside me," the words were flustering to say and he looks down at his hands that are once again clasped tight in his lap. "I love what we've done together, Ragnar," he says sincerely then, confused. "But I can't understand why you do not want to be with me that way. Haven't you with..." he cut himself off there.
Athelstan would recognize the expression, or complete lack thereof, on Ragnar's face. It was the look he got when he was feeling an array of emotions and wanted to keep them all to himself, a carefully crafted and maintained mask that gave nothing away. Ragnar remained stone-faced until Athelstan trailed off.
"You know," He started, though Athelstan obviously did not know, "It would still be sex even if we never did that."
He leaned back a bit, looking off to Athelstan's right at nothing in particular and scratched his fingers through his beard with his free hand. He forced himself to go in a different direction with the conversation.
"I did not want... to overwhelm you. Or, worse, go too quickly and have you not enjoy yourself because I could not be patient," His eyes met Athelstan's again, but his brow furrowed slightly, "With who?"
Athelstan finds that he does not like that expression on Ragnar's face just now. He wants to shake it away but he doesn't reach out to touch him, still watching him carefully, each movement, every slight movement in his face. He feels a bit humiliated all over again but it's not Ragnar's fault. He finally drops his gaze before Ragnar continued speaking.
"Do you not trust me to tell you if I'm overwhelmed, if it's too much?" Athelstan asks, looking up at him again. In honesty, it's probably fair that Ragnar might not trust him to do so, especially now.
"Athelstan. You did not tell me it was what you wanted and you went to some stranger to 'learn'- Did you not just say-" He started to retort with a flare of frustration, but forced himself to stop mid-sentence, bowing his head and squeezing his free hand into a fist for a moment to regain his composure. He exhaled slowly, unfisting his hand.
He was trying. He really, really was.
He tilted his head back, forcing himself to look Athelstan in the eyes as he spoke, tone strained, but calm.
"None of that matters though. It is done. And now I know. That that is what you expect of me in bed," His tone pulls slightly as he fights the urge to sound even sassier, "And, no. I have never fucked Dodger. Not like that. Does that, at least, make you happy?"
Athelstan inhaled sharply at Ragnar's reply and he does his best to school his face to not show the way it had upset him. It takes a moment for him to be willing to look directly at Ragnar again. It doesn't become any easier to hold his gaze when he keeps talking.
He feels that infernal burning in his eyes again and the turns his head to look anywhere but at Ragnar. He doesn't know what exactly it is that causes him to crack again.
He takes a quick inhale and doesn't look back at Ragnar, not wanting him to see him and rather sure if he did that he'd wouldn't be able to stop himself from truly crying. He felt so weak and this loss of composure is not helping in the least.
"I did not go to him to learn. Not tonight... and the first night I was hardly myself," he murmurs, his voice quiet but it doesn't mask how thick it is.
"Why are you holding it against me? I thought it was the natural way of things," Athelstan whispers in frustration, Ragnar's tone digging into a sore spot.
Ragnar bit the inside of his lip, annoyed and angry with himself, with Dodger, with everything.
"If that was what you wanted, there was nothing keeping you from saying so... And if you have questions, there is nothing stopping you from asking," He muttered, pulling away from Athelstan with a heavy sigh. His knees were complaining too much to keep kneeling in front of the monk and he wanted a bit of space, some room to breathe and cool off, so he eased back, sitting with his back against the wall, the blanket wrapped loosely around him and his knees pulled up close to his chest.
Athelstan doesn't know what to do just then and he rubs his face exhausted. The drug that he'd been shot with had made the idea of sleeping even further impossible even once it wore off and on top of the other thoughts and pain keeping him awake.
Ragnar's words pushed forward the feelings of guilt. He forces himself to look back at him. "I'm sorry, Ragnar" he said quietly.
The apology made him crumble a little, any annoyance and anger he'd felt drained away and he rubbed his hand down his face with a tired sigh. Even after dropping his hand to his side, he kept his eyes closed, head tilted back to rest against the wall as well.
"...No. It is not your fault. I am just... frustrated," He opened his eyes, head still tilted back, looking at Athelstan at the odd angle, "You have nothing to be sorry for. It is... mm. Not your problem. It is our problem, yes? And now, we can start to fix it."
Athelstan wanted to argue that it is his fault. The fact that Ragnar is frustrated, Athelstan's failings, what Dodger had done... it's all Athelstan's fault. He knows well enough, though, that Ragnar would not agree and that it would anger or upset him if Athelstan said as much so he kept it to himself.
He nods, a small smile. Even if he does still feel that it his own problem, that he's somehow the problem they would get further if they were trying to fix it together.
Athelstan turns toward the table and begins putting things away, his mind still feels a bit raw and he's overall unsettled but he Ragnar probably would not agree to rest more unless Athelstan came to bed. "We should rest first," he said quietly.
"Now?" He asked, looking up at Athelstan in shock. Despite feeling exhausted, sleeping was the last thing on his mind. He had, what felt like, a hundred things on his mind, most of them had to do with the things he was imagining doing to Dodger.
Still, he slowly pushed himself up onto his feet with a quiet grunt. He shrugged off the blanket, wrapping it around Athelstan's shoulders instead. Nodding towards the house, he pushed the door of the small art room open and waited for Athelstan to lead the way.
Athelstan nods slightly. "Aren't you tired?" he questions as the other gives up, letting him wrap the blanket around his shoulders. He leaves the art room and heads back toward the house. He almost feels like washing himself again but it's a foolish thought and he wants Ragnar to get back to sleep, already sorry for the way that he's disturbed the man's rest.
He makes his way up to the room they share, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Ragnar, you won't do anything rash, right?"
Ragnar quietly shut the door to Athelstan's art room, padding along beside him as they traversed the short little path back to the house. The sky was just starting to lighten, though it was still more predawn than dawn.
"Not really. I do not remember what I dreamt," He said with a soft smile, following Athelstan inside, "But it woke me up."
The panic of thinking Athelstan was gone had definitely woken him up more, but the monk already seemed wracked with guilt. He didn't need any more help.
"Rash?" Ragnar echoed the word with a slight smile that was devoid of any warmth, "No."
It wouldn't be rash at all. It would be well thought out and executed with calculation. Not rash.
Athelstan thought about the other's comment. He wonders what it was that he had been dreaming. Dreams are often a curious thing, he thinks, anymore. He doesn't further ask, though, if the other doesn't remember but it woke him up if it comes back to him he'd surely tell him.
If Athelstan was in a better state of mind he would have caught the fact that he hadn't worded his request correctly, not nearly covering what he would need to to make sure that Ragnar didn't do anything retaliatory but he's mentally exhausted and drained even if he feels like the last thing he can do is sleep.
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He doesn't know why Ragnar would leave. But a few options pop into his mind, that he's damaged now somehow or undesirable or more pertinent that Ragnar is angry at him or at Dodger and would leave for that. It is both an immediate and long term concern even more than he's letting himself focus on.
The monk lets Ragnar pull him closer, their foreheads pressing together and it's comforting. Athelstan lets out an unsteady breath and he closes his eyes because he's too close to tears again and he doesn't want to appear even weaker. he hasn't felt this weak in so long. He'd been powerless in attacking Dodger and even more so when he was under him and couldn't make him even budge an inch.
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Or maybe... Was Athelstan feeling guilty simply for sleeping with him?
"You know I would never... never fault you for finding pleasure wherever you wished. You afford me that luxury, and I you," He mumbled reassuringly, "I know you say you do not seek it out, but it is fine. If you do, it is fine."
Now, he needed to try to figure out how Athelstan went from going to kill Dodger to sleeping with him, albeit unwillingly at some point in the evening... for the second time.
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"And this time, I thought...I was stupid," he finally assesses.
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He didn't argue with Athelstan's claim, though part of him, the stubborn little shit voice in his head wanted to mention Judith and point to Dodger. He was of the opinion that Athelstan would like to believe he didn't want anyone else and maybe, ninety-eight percent of the time, that was true, but sometimes those chance encounters where sparks just flew were difficult to say no to. Ragnar knew Athelstan wouldn't hear it though.
His brow furrowed at Athelstan's reasoning.
"But... Was I not... Have I not been... patient enough with you? Have I not... been showing you thing slowly? Introducing you to more and more?" He opened his mouth again and couldn't help but stop and exhale something almost like a laugh at how absurd all of this seemed, "Athelstan... I knew exactly who you were when... when we started. Why would you think any of that would matter? I did not expect for you to..."
He stopped, pausing, looking down, "If all you ever allowed me to do was... kiss you. Or sleep next to you... It would have been more been more than enough. Because it is you. I wanted you. Not," He shrugged his shoulders, "Sex. I have always just wanted you."
It was a raw truth, Ragnar almost looked nervous, pleading, scared that he'd laid himself so bare, that he'd made himself so vulnerable. But it was Athelstan. And he trusted him. With his life and his heart.
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He exhales softly against his hand, his eyes on Ragnar's face. He loves him so much that he doesn't know what to do with all of it sometimes.
"Ragnar, you... you've been perfect," Athelstan whispers and it's true. Ragnar has been a good friend and a good lover. The things that are wrong are because of Athelstan's own insecurities. It'd never been anything that Ragnar had said or done. "I wanted to be good. I've wanted to be worth it, all the time I made you wait," he whispers, all the time that Ragnar hasn't waited. "I didn't want to disappoint you."
He squeezes Ragnar's hand. "You've had me, Ragnar, even before you've known it. You've had my heart and my soul."
Athelstan lowers his hand. "I'm sorry I'm so foolish," he can't help but apologize despite the last time he had causing arguments. "I've been so afraid that I wouldn't be able to satisfy you and then... with...when I heard Ivar," he tries to explain but it feels a bit unimportant. "I felt like I was not good enough, that I wasn't enough."
He says it in past tense as if the insecurities aren't still there.
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Ragnar kept his gaze locked with Athelstan's, lips pressing into a flat line subtly when Athelstan assures him that he'd been perfect, something he doubted since Athelstan had been very obviously unhappy with him. He exhaled audibly, not realizing he'd been holding his breath as Athelstan spoke, and shook his head.
"There is no way you could ever disappoint me, Athelstan," He said it like a promise.
His eyes unfocused, falling idly to Athelstan's shirt as he tried to process everything.
"Is that why... you asked about sex? You do not consider the things we have done together to be sex?" Ragnar wasn't exactly walking on eggshells but the way he spoke made it clear that he'd chosen his words carefully.
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He'll always be torn between two worlds, two beliefs even though he is held together by his love for Ragnar in a way. He wishes that he could fully commit to Ragnar's ways as much as he could commit to Ragnar. He looked back up at Ragnar at the question, but he isn't really looking at him as he spoke.
The question confuses him for a moment. "It's different, isn't it?" he questions, and he feels he's done or said something wrong. "When I say sex I mean," he wanted to say 'you know what I mean' but clearly Ragnar did not.
"You have never been inside me," the words were flustering to say and he looks down at his hands that are once again clasped tight in his lap. "I love what we've done together, Ragnar," he says sincerely then, confused. "But I can't understand why you do not want to be with me that way. Haven't you with..." he cut himself off there.
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"You know," He started, though Athelstan obviously did not know, "It would still be sex even if we never did that."
He leaned back a bit, looking off to Athelstan's right at nothing in particular and scratched his fingers through his beard with his free hand. He forced himself to go in a different direction with the conversation.
"I did not want... to overwhelm you. Or, worse, go too quickly and have you not enjoy yourself because I could not be patient," His eyes met Athelstan's again, but his brow furrowed slightly, "With who?"
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"Do you not trust me to tell you if I'm overwhelmed, if it's too much?" Athelstan asks, looking up at him again. In honesty, it's probably fair that Ragnar might not trust him to do so, especially now.
"Dodger."
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He was trying. He really, really was.
He tilted his head back, forcing himself to look Athelstan in the eyes as he spoke, tone strained, but calm.
"None of that matters though. It is done. And now I know. That that is what you expect of me in bed," His tone pulls slightly as he fights the urge to sound even sassier, "And, no. I have never fucked Dodger. Not like that. Does that, at least, make you happy?"
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He feels that infernal burning in his eyes again and the turns his head to look anywhere but at Ragnar. He doesn't know what exactly it is that causes him to crack again.
He takes a quick inhale and doesn't look back at Ragnar, not wanting him to see him and rather sure if he did that he'd wouldn't be able to stop himself from truly crying. He felt so weak and this loss of composure is not helping in the least.
"I did not go to him to learn. Not tonight... and the first night I was hardly myself," he murmurs, his voice quiet but it doesn't mask how thick it is.
"Why are you holding it against me? I thought it was the natural way of things," Athelstan whispers in frustration, Ragnar's tone digging into a sore spot.
"Yes and no."
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"If that was what you wanted, there was nothing keeping you from saying so... And if you have questions, there is nothing stopping you from asking," He muttered, pulling away from Athelstan with a heavy sigh. His knees were complaining too much to keep kneeling in front of the monk and he wanted a bit of space, some room to breathe and cool off, so he eased back, sitting with his back against the wall, the blanket wrapped loosely around him and his knees pulled up close to his chest.
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Ragnar's words pushed forward the feelings of guilt. He forces himself to look back at him. "I'm sorry, Ragnar" he said quietly.
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"...No. It is not your fault. I am just... frustrated," He opened his eyes, head still tilted back, looking at Athelstan at the odd angle, "You have nothing to be sorry for. It is... mm. Not your problem. It is our problem, yes? And now, we can start to fix it."
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He nods, a small smile. Even if he does still feel that it his own problem, that he's somehow the problem they would get further if they were trying to fix it together.
Athelstan turns toward the table and begins putting things away, his mind still feels a bit raw and he's overall unsettled but he Ragnar probably would not agree to rest more unless Athelstan came to bed. "We should rest first," he said quietly.
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Still, he slowly pushed himself up onto his feet with a quiet grunt. He shrugged off the blanket, wrapping it around Athelstan's shoulders instead. Nodding towards the house, he pushed the door of the small art room open and waited for Athelstan to lead the way.
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He makes his way up to the room they share, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Ragnar, you won't do anything rash, right?"
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"Not really. I do not remember what I dreamt," He said with a soft smile, following Athelstan inside, "But it woke me up."
The panic of thinking Athelstan was gone had definitely woken him up more, but the monk already seemed wracked with guilt. He didn't need any more help.
"Rash?" Ragnar echoed the word with a slight smile that was devoid of any warmth, "No."
It wouldn't be rash at all. It would be well thought out and executed with calculation. Not rash.
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If Athelstan was in a better state of mind he would have caught the fact that he hadn't worded his request correctly, not nearly covering what he would need to to make sure that Ragnar didn't do anything retaliatory but he's mentally exhausted and drained even if he feels like the last thing he can do is sleep.
"Alright," he murmurs.