Ansgar knew they were gaining on the man and as he heard the footsteps getting closer he raised his spear. However, as the body came into sight he lowered his spear. This was no Roman they were chasing. It was a young man, barely out of the second decade of his life. His skin was too pale to be that of a Roman and his clothes wear nothing like the armour of the legions. The clothes were rather strange and he was clearly not attired for the cold weather of Germania.
Ansgar passed his spear to his brother before picking up the pace and charging ahead. The young man looked behind him and sped up when he saw Ansgar, but it was no good. Ansgar was larger and faster and in no time at all he had gained enough distance to lunge at the young man, grabbing him around the legs and forcing him to the ground. The young man writhed and struggled and yelled in a language that Ansgar did not understand. “Quiet,” Ansgar commanded, but the struggling didn’t stop. If anything it intensified.
Ansgar pulled on the young man’s legs to get him close to his body and flipped him over into his back. He then straddled him and pinned his arms next to his head. “Quiet,” Ansgar said once again.
The young man didn’t obey right away and tried pulling on Ansgar’s grip on his wrists, but he seemed to quieten down when he realised that he was trapped. The German looked into his captive’s eyes and saw a great deal of fear there. The young man was terrified. However, despite this terror there was a glare in his eyes as if he was silently, yet violently objecting to his imprisonment underneath Ansgar’s much larger form.
The German surveyed his captive and was stunned at what he saw. The young man was definitely no Roman. His skin was at least three shades too pale for that. Perhaps he was one of their slaves who had been captured in one of their conquests in Britain, and he was running because he escaped their encampment. That would explain how someone who clearly didn’t belong in this land ended up here. However, it did not explain the strange clothing. He wasn’t dressed warm for the harsh weather that they were cursed with in Germania but neither was he dressed scantily like a slave who had escaped a warm tent. In fact Ansgar had never seen this kind of cloth before. The material that was encasing his legs was dark blue in colour and rough and the cloth that was covering his top half was held together with little circles in the middle of the young man’s chest.
However great the shock was at seeing the boy’s clothes it was nothing compared to his reaction at seeing the boy himself. He had such fine features and could without a doubt be considered beautiful. This only served to further convince Ansgar that he was an escaped slave. His eyes were a stormy gray colour and his hair had all the beauty of flames sprouting from a campfire. Ansgar had never seen anyone with hair that colour before. His cheek bones were high and his jawbone was firm, and Ansgar was staring at him for at least a minute before he remembered what he had been doing.
“Where are you from boy?” he asked. The boy just looked at him perplexed. Ansgar tried again, “Are you a slave?”
Once again he received no answer expect for the boy beginning to struggle again. He pulled on Ansgar’s grip on his arms and had surprising strength for someone of such a small stature. Ansgar was caught unawares and the boy managed to get one of his arms free. He turned over onto his front and tried to pull his other arm away. Ansgar grabbed the young man around the waist and turned him back over onto his back, this time throwing his entire body mass on him to keep him still. He recaptured the wrists and held them both in one hand while he used the other to take hold of the boy’s chin and turn his head to look him in the eye.
“Silence, boy,” he commanded even though he had now deduced that there was little chance that the young man understood his language. Still, he hoped that the tone of his words would get his point across. “I am not going to hurt you but my patience with you is wearing thin. You will be still or I will have to knock you out.”
Whatever the boy heard in his voice worked, he stopped struggling and just lay there underneath his captor. It was at this moment that Ansgar realised that his cock had hardened. Luckily his pelvis was between the boy’s legs so his cock was pressing against the ground. Ansgar was sure that if the young man realised that his captor was aroused it would only serve to induce another fit of struggling. After all he could not explain to the boy that he didn’t plan to do anything and it would only cause unnecessary fear.
As the German felt Cinead’s legs wrap around his back and their cocks rub against each other he managed to pull himself together long enough to pull back and look into his lover’s eyes once more to say, “I have been praying to the Gods for days now that we be granted victory. I usually take my mother’s gauntlet into conflicts with me as a measure of luck and protection, but all I need to take with me to fight at my greatest in this battle is the memory of the warmth of your thighs and the beauty of your smile.”
The smaller man looked stunned for a second at such a strong proclamation of feeling before his face dissolved into the beautiful smile Ansgar had spoken of and said, “No one talks like that anymore where I come from.” He then leaned up and kissed the German before saying, “Whatever happens tomorrow I am so glad I met you and I would always have the memory of you inside me.”
Ansgar bit his lip before leaning down and returning the kiss with an immeasurable amount of passion. The time for words was over. They had said all they needed to say to each other. Now was the time for action.
As the kiss deepened, Ansgar ran his hands up Cinead’s thighs, feeling and squeezing the muscle before he came to the clear-cut hip bones. The German ran his tongue across the plump bottom lip of the smaller man, begging entrance. He was granted and he spent as much time as he could tasting and memorizing everything about his lover’s sweet cavern and he once again took a hold of the other man’s hips and jerked his own so that their cocks rubbed together.
Cinead gasped, arched and moaned at the friction and mimicked Ansgar’s actions by bucking up and seeking more sensation.
“Ansgar,” Cinead cried. “I can’t take it anymore just…inside me. God, please…inside me.”
“I have no oils…”
“I don’t fucking care.”
With that Ansgar placed three of his fingers against Cinead’s lips and teased them open, “Suck,” he commanded.
Cinead obeyed, taking all three fingers in his mouth and coating then with saliva. The feeling of Cinead’s tongue went straight to Ansgar’s cock even though the ministrations were only on his fingers. For one moment the German wondered if his lover had done this before, but he shook the thought aside and withdrew his dripping wet fingers, taking a stream of saliva with them. The smaller man just lay there panting and gasping. Ansgar could feel his cock begging him to enter the tight hole that was bared to his gaze as he grasped one of Cinead’s thighs with his dry hand, easily pulling the younger man off the bed and placing his own knees underneath the delectable ass. However, he wanted to stretch Cinead out first so that he wouldn’t hurt him so he entered one finger into the hole and felt the exquisite tightness of it.
“Hmm,” Ansgar hummed. “Gods above you are so tight. I want to feel these walls clench around my cock. I want to hear you moan and writhe as I fuck you into the bed.
“Ansgar,” Cinead groaned, dragging out his lovers name in desperation before shrieking as Ansgar added a second finger and spread them apart to stretch the smaller man’s hole.
“Jesus fuck,” Cinead said, which was all Ansgar could make out as the younger man regressed into what the German assumed was his own language.
The third finger was added and when Ansgar saw Cinead’s eyeballs rolling backwards he decided that it was time to stop torturing both of them and enter the other man. He withdrew his finger, drawing a displeased groan from his lover. “Patience,” Ansgar whispered before spitting into the palm of his hand and slicking up his aching cock.
The German then positioned himself against the stretched, gaping hole and slowly pushed in. Cinead’s hands flew up and latched onto Ansgar’s back, nails digging into the skin. The smaller man said some incomprehensible words, but Ansgar didn’t care what they meant. He buried himself into his lover, relishing in the tight heat that encircled his cock but managed to gain enough presence of mind to still himself for a moment as Cinead adjusted to the size of him.
It wasn’t long before the younger man’s hips were twitching beneath him and Cinead said something that sounded like a complaint. He said it again and when Ansgar did nothing he said, “Move,” in a frustrated, almost commanding voice.
Ansgar was only too happy to obey. At first he was slow and gentle with smooth fluid movements of his hips. He grasped Cinead’s cheek and pulled him in for a sweet kiss.
That sweet kiss soon turned more passionate as the arms that were already around the German tightened and the nails dug in deeper while the tongue plunged into Ansgar’s mouth. Along with the heat of that kiss came another wave of unchallenged lust and the German felt his hips begin to move faster before he knew it.
Cinead cried out again meeting Ansgar’s thrusts. “Oh God,” Cinead cried. “You’re killing, oh God, please, you’re killing me.”
Ansgar chuckled at the words, as if he could ever bring harm to this…well Ansgar couldn’t find words for what he was. He was a light in Ansgar’s dull life, a ray of warmth in the wake of cold Germanic winters. Ansgar wanted to hold onto this gift sent to him by the Gods. He wrapped his arms around the other man’s lithe frame and pulled him in so that their bodies were almost merging into one. He could feel Cinead nibble on his shoulder as he held him back with just as much ferocity.