Chapter Text
Sasappis is snuggled up in his bed, reading the Seamus Heaney translation of Beowulf for his class tomorrow. Or at least attempting to read it, as his roommate (and boyfriend) was getting way too into his exercise video in the middle of their room. Sas attempted to read a little more, but the odd noises that Thorfinn was making caused him to stare in a mix of judgement and amusement. Eventually as Thor stopped for water, he sighed and turned back to his book, sinking further into the bed.
“Babe?”
A grunt in response.
He reached one hand out towards Thorfinn.
“Come here”
There came another grunt, and some shuffling as he stood up from his workout and turned towards Sasappis.
“Why?” His head tilted to the side, like a puppy.
A huge, Norwegian puppy, but a puppy nonetheless.
“Because.” Sasappis made a grabby motion with his hand, which turned into a dragon-like motion as he read through the ending battle. He copied the fire-breathing and the biting when mentioned, looking back up when he heard his partner chuckle, smiling and giggling a little himself.
Thorfinn used his index fingers as Wiglaf and Beowulf themselves, fighting Sas’s dragon hand.
He jumped side to side, whacking his hand with his fingers until Sas withdrew.
“Haha! Victory!” he bounced around happily, a huge smile on his face, stopping to look at his boyfriend, who was peeking out from under the covers. “What happens next?” he practically vibrates from joy as Sasappis summarises the next bit of the story.
“Wiglaf goes into the lair to get the treasure for Beowulf- “ He was interrupted by Thorfinn diving into the bed and wrapping his arms around him.
“AAA! Oh god dude! Go take a shower first, you’re so sweaty!” He tried to squirm away.
“Eh, it's sheet-washing day anyway.” He held Sasappis closer to him, giggling. “Min skatt! I got you!”
“Yeah babe, you did!” He smiled, hummed contentedly, and tossed the book aside on the bed, settling down to snuggle with his energetic roommate.
There was an odd shifting and an antsy silence from Thorfinn. Sas frowned.
“What’s wrong bud?”
“...can you read me Beowulf please?”
“Because the English is worded oddly?”
“....Yes.” He snuggled into Sasappis.
“And I’m guessing you want me to skip over the weird Christian bits?”
“Yes.” He huffed, receiving a giggle from Sas.
“What? They ruin the story!”
“It’s for the cultural significance of the time, babe.”
“I still don’t like them.” He rested his head on Sas’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t going to read them anyway, warrior, calm down.”
Thorfinn took a deep breath and sighed.
“Please read now, min skatt.”
“Okay. What! We of the Spear-Danes, in days of yore-”
Thorfinn smiled, delighted as the story went on, grateful for Sasappis’ energetic storytelling, making him almost feel like he was the good king Beowulf, but careful not to accidentally squeeze him in his excitement.
Sasappis’ eyes were shining -though he wouldn’t dare reveal such to the other- happy to have found another thing that makes Thor smile like that, as there are only so many fish-related gifts he could give, but now he could give him his own passion, a gift of his own making and performance. His truest love.
They remained there, cuddled up in bed for hours after the story of Beowulf was retold yet again, the two telling their own stories back and forth, revelling in the reactions received.
And if the sheets didn’t get washed that day, nobody but them had to know.