Title: Semantics
Fandom: Vinland Saga
Pairing: Thorfinn/Canute
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 616
Summary/Description: Thorfinn and Canute are terrible kissers.
Warning/Spoilers: None.
A/N: 31 days, May 5th: arms out in the rain. My OTP. :') This is meant to be pre!180-Canute, but I'm aware that he sort of comes off as the person he becomes after you-know-who's death.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
Thorfinn doesn't know how to kiss. Like everything else, he treats it as a task or a competition, something that he must succeed at at all costs, and he doesn't care who gets in his way. The first moment of contact is almost an assault. He shoves Canute against the wall and crushes their lips together with enough force to draw blood.
And for a few minutes, it remains just like that. He doesn't seem to notice, or care, that their noses are squashed together uncomfortably, or that Canute is kicking his shins and pulling his hair in an effort to manoeuvre them into a more comfortable position. (It really is a terrible kiss.) Thorfinn continues to press their lips into blueness while Canute gradually, hesitantly, hooks a leg round one of Thorfinn's, and settles his hands on his shoulders, because, well, it can't get any worse.
He's wrong. It gets a bit worse when they open their mouths and suddenly, teeth become a part of the equation. Canute can't kiss either, but he consoles himself with the knowledge that he is definitely better at it than Thorfinn, probably because he doesn't treat it like a battlefield. All the same, the first time their teeth clack together noisily and Thorfinn bites Canute's tongue irritably, he feels a jolt of electricity in his chest.
When Canute realises that he enjoys the kiss, that he enjoys kissing Thorfinn despite how horrible he is at it, he doesn't know what to think.
When Thorfinn pulls away, he is breathing heavily, and scowling darkly at Canute as if his flushed face and erratic breathing are all his fault. And it is, Canute grasps, with some measure of surprise.
"What the fuck are you smiling at?" Thorfinn growls, mouth turning up into a sulk. Canute bites his bottom lip, tasting the remnants of blood there.
"Nothing," he says with a sniff, and tugs Thorfinn's head down so he can kiss him again.
They don't know what they're doing. Not only in the physical sense, though that's certainly true. Canute has never kissed anyone before, far less another boy. He has the distinct feeling that, as the prince, he shouldn't even be letting someone of Thorfinn's stature touch him. The kiss, terrible though it is, is apparently doing something to skewer his thinking and his desire to adhere to princely mores.
More than that, though: they really don't know what they're doing. They have no idea where this will lead, and what the repercussions will be, though Canute can't imagine for a minute that they will be good. Canute isn't even sure how they got here in the first place, though it probably has something to do with what happened in the wagon last night. How they ended up on top of each other in sleep is a mystery, especially since Ragnar was snoring away next to them the whole time.
It's Askeladd's fault, for pushing them into such close quarters.
At the moment, it's a little like they're walking unsheltered in the rain. There are many paths that they can take from here, but going back probably isn't an option. It's a giddy feeling, to be doing something so reckless and ill-advised that should definitely be stopped as soon as possible, but carry on with it anyway, because you want to. It gives Canute a tiny thrill, like a shiver after the first snowfall of the season.
Thorfinn bites his lip again, and Canute winces, even as his stomach gives a pleasant flip. Thorfinn hasn't become much of a better kisser in the past few minutes, but there is something to be said for walking with open arms in the rain.