Petulant ✔︎

20

Gunnar nervously stepped from foot to foot. His whole body was tense no matter how much he tried to hide it. He swallowed nervously. The small cough from behind him made him ease up. Inadequate tension left his shoulders. He was there. The man he loved was standing behind him. Probably threateningly leaning onto the tree. Not that his large body needed to look any more threatening. And not that it looked threatening to him.

The bushes rustled before him, and he focused. His eyes sharply searched the frozen twigs of the forest. Snow crunched under someone's feet, and then his brother emerged from the shadows. Their eyes met, and Frode's eyes almost popped out. The only thing he could muster was a small smile. His brother didn't rush to him, but he could see the relieved look in his eyes. It made Gunnar ease up even more.

"I" —he reached for the bag next to him and threw it at his brother— "brought you this," more nervous fidgeting followed his words. His brother opened the bag. A small gasp left his lips. Gunnar hoped that the food would last him until he reached the cabin. And he hoped that no one would follow his brother to deliver his demis.

He took a step forward, "Head to the cabin. Gorm and I left some food there and wood." His brother nodded before rushing towards him. Gunnar braced himself for the impact. The arms that enveloped him were so familiar he sagged into them. His arms wound around his brother, and he clutched the back of his head. Shifting his brother's head into his shoulder, holding him reassuringly.

"You'll be fine," he reassured more himself. Frode nodded into his shoulder, "Say sorry to Irvina for how much of a big fuck up I am." Gunnar chuckled but nodded. He doubted that his sister would want to talk to him any time soon.

Especially, when she saw him sneaking out of the kitchens with a bag of food, she ignored him though, and continued to her room. Gunnar hoped that Halfdan would ease her guilt at least a little bit. Gorm coughed behind him. Reminding him of his presence and limited time.

He pulled Frode's head from his shoulder, "I'll visit soon, once she calms down a little." Frode nodded with a small smile. Frode's eyes focused behind him on Gorm. He offered a nod. Gunnar could tell just how hard that was since his nose was still broken from him. And another reminder of the beating was how swollen his face was. And how one of his eyes couldn't open properly, and then there was the mark. Covered in oil and still bleeding.

"Soon," Frode gave him a nod before untangling himself. Gunnar also distanced himself. Merely to refrain from going with his brother. His eyes followed the retreating figure with a feeling of dread. And he stood there until his brother completely disappeared from sight, a heavy weight settling on his chest and pushing painfully at his heart.

A hand fell on his shoulder after a while, "Let's head back. Before someone notices." A relieved sigh left his lips once the voice pulled him out of his dreadful thoughts. Gunnar nodded and shuddered a little at the gruff voice. This was not the moment to get aroused.

That feeling immediately flew out of his mind when the voice spoke into his ear, "We should settle into our hut. Odin knows how hard it was for me to keep my hands to myself." The whispering voice said a few more sinful things, and Gunnar chuckled. Of course, this was how Gorm was planning to distract him. Not that he would object. The big buff man was the perfect distraction.

The End