Chapter Text
Maybe it was because it was late in the spring and the southern wind was just a bit too warm. Maybe it was because the flowers throughout the valley were flourishing and blooming and even late into the evening their heady fragrance hung heavy in the air. Maybe it was because he had spent most of the day lounging on the riverbank without catching a single fish. Maybe it was because it was just a few days shy of summer.
Maybe it didn’t matter why, just that it did happen. A certain feeling that he noticed as he retired to his tent at twilight. It was small, as it usually was when it started, just a few small embers smouldering along the base of his gut. It happened regularly, not as often as many, and not as rarely as some, but Snufkin was still just an animal and animals had needs. It was never inconvenient or bothersome and he wasn’t embarrassed by it, but it was a private matter and when it occurred he preferred to take his time.
So, in the comfort of his tent, with the warm, sweet-scented wind gently jostling the sturdy fabric walls around him, he lay down on his bedroll and relaxed. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. His paw found its way to his trousers, under the waistband and over warm skin and past coarse hair until he was quite far enough and took hold of himself. It was times like this where he allowed his mind to travel along a certain path, familiar in its own particular way, tucked away behind the more well maintained and more appropriate paths, and only ever travelled alone on nights like tonight.
Instead of his own paw he imagined it was a soft white paw that held him, palm warm and satin, and with stout fingers that wrapped around him just right. A familiar hold, just familiar in a different light. Some nights Snufkin imagined that Moomintroll’s movement would be nervous and eager to please, readily receptive to feedback, and on others he imagined Moomintroll would be confident, well practiced and he knew exactly how to handle Snufkin’s every desire.
This evening however, Snufkin focused on the softness of that white fur. Earlier that day Snufkin had accepted a paw that Moomintroll had offered him when getting up from the riverbank and the softness of the fur had been lovely, like velvet, like a hot cup of coffee on a cold morning.
Snufkin tilted his head to the side and imagined the soft white fur of Moomintroll’s snout nuzzling along the curve of his neck, hot breath dancing across the skin of Snufkin’s bare chest. Snufkin barely managed to bite back a moan. Ah- that image had been exceptionally stirring and he made sure to make note of that, to file that away for future pondering as to why exactly that situation had been so stimulating. But that would be for later. For now, he wanted to continue.
He took a slow, deep breath and imagined Moomintroll’s snout pressed under the angle of his jaw, nuzzling every square centimeter of exposed skin all the while his paw worked steadily between Snufkin’s legs. Snufkin pressed into Moomintroll, wrapping his arms around the Moomin’s neck and pulled them closer together. Snufkin nuzzled back, pressing his cheek into the fur just below Moomintroll’s ears. He breathed in deeply, surrounded by Moomintroll’s smell. It was like walking down a familiar trail through the valley, it was comforting, it was home, it was sunshine and dewdrops and smelled faintly of floral soap.
Snufkin had watched Moominmamma make the soap once, one morning many summers ago during a week of torrential downpours when Snufkin had graciously accepted a spare room in Moominhouse. Moomintroll had still been asleep, and Snufkin had sat at the kitchen table with a warm cup of tea between his paws and a large leather-bound book of grandma’s recipes open on the table beside him. Moominmamma fluttered around the kitchen, cooking down the oil and preparing the herbs and flowers that gave the soap its characteristic smell. She told him about the importance of keeping a Moomin’s fur clean and the secret ingredient in the shampoo that helped keep their fur so soft. It was a cozy memory, one that Snufkin visited often. It had made Snufkin feel at home.
He was well practiced with his thoughts, often alone with them for days on end, and he knew how his mind liked to stray. He opened his eyes and allowed himself a moment to focus again at the task at hand. Outside his tent, dusk had passed, giving way to the night, and any light from the stars and the moon seemed to be negligible as he could barely make out the seams of the tent above him. The air around him was still. It was a quiet night, all the other inhabitants of Moominvalley seemed to already be asleep.
He took another slow breath before closing his eyes and continuing. Moomintroll’s paw resumed its movements, warm and soft and gripping him just right, moving at the exact right speed. Moomintroll’s other paw started to move as well, lazily running across Snufkin’s chest, through the short, coarse hair there and every so often catching a nipple and drawing a breathy moan from Snufkin’s throat. Then Moomintroll’s paw moved from Snufkin’s chest and travelled south down his side, over the hills and valleys of his ribs, and then backwards to rest at the small of Snufkin’s back. Those soft fingers brushed over the sensitive skin just above the root of Snufkin’s tail. Snufkin’s hips twitched and that prompted Moomintroll to press down a bit harder, drawing small circles around Snufkin’s tail and oh- that sent sparks of pleasure shooting throughout his body, all the way down to the tips of his toes. He pressed his hips upwards, allowing for more space for Moomintroll to work, and his tail quivered, curling up and then reaching out to loosely wrap around Moomintroll’s wrist.
They shifted and Moomintroll’s arms folded around Snufkin’s body and oh- how easily it was for Moomintroll to pick Snufkin up. Not that Moomintroll often did so, but on the rare occasion that he did, there was something about being held so close and with ease that made Snufkin’s heart trip over itself and struggled to maintain a steady pace.
It was times like this where his imagination would get away from him, wander down rarely travelled trails with steep terrain and exhilarating views.
Oh- Moomintroll lifted Snufkin up with ease and place him on his lap, letting him lean forward onto the soft swell of Moomintroll’s belly as he settled downwards. Slowly, he lowered himself onto Moomintroll’s cock, legs trembling as he accommodated the increasing girth. Moomintroll’s hands went to Snufkin’s hips, holding him, supporting him, helping press him down when he asked and when he was ready, those hands would grip tightly and be used as leverage as Moomintroll bucked his hips up. Snufkin’s breath caught in his throat as he tried to moan Moomintroll’s name.
They were in the open fields of the valley now, and Snufkin was pressed into the warm, lush grass, the earthy scent of fresh dirt and the sweet smell of flowers surrounding him. The heat of the summer sun and of Moomintroll warmed his back and as they moved in tandem, their bodies connected and synchronized in their joint pursuit of pleasure. As Moomintroll thrusted deeper, Snufkin dug his hands into the long grass, pulling up some of the thick greenery, trying his best to hold onto his wits and reality and not get lost in this overwhelming bliss. It wasn’t working, he was slipping away, being pushed out to sea by a powerful tide. He floundered for a moment, fighting for air, before he was able to reach out and tether himself to the comforting weight of Moomintroll on top of him. Snufkin could breathe, deep and full and Moomintroll surrounded him. He didn’t feel caged in- no- he was cozy, he felt safe, he felt grounded, he felt at home.
They were moving, now deep in the forest and Moomintroll lay him down atop a damp bed of moss which molded to the shape of Snufkin’s body and cooled his feverish skin. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the tall trees around them and played with his hair and with Moomintroll’s fur. The Moomin moved at a relaxed pace, gentle and tender, but that’s didn’t stop the burning desire building inside of Snufkin. His tail thrashed side-to-side, but was quickly quelled by Moomintroll’s own tail, wrapping gently around Skunfkin’s and held him tight. A paw, soft and velvety, came to rest on Snufkin’s cheek, affectionately cooling the flush skin there. Snufkin turned his head to press his lips to the soft white fur on the palm of that paw and smiled as that drew out a moan from Moomintroll.
-ah he was getting quite close now. Snufkin’s breath was shallow and quick and his heart beat at a runaway pace. The interior of his tent was sweltering, he felt sticky, and he could feel sweat drip down his neck. He paused briefly to pull up his shirt and pull down his trousers and quickly resumed. It wasn’t like he was eager to finish things, to rush and get things over with. No, he just wanted to get back to that pleasure, back to that place where it was just him and simple carnal indulgence. And Moomintroll. Always Moomintroll.
He was laying atop the soft sheets of Moomintroll’s bed, a lantern illuminating a familiar room and casting long shadows across a space so well know- so well known but never in this light. The softness of Moomintroll’s snout pressed against Snufkin’s belly and Snufkin melted into the exquisite heat around his cock. This was a line of thought where Snufkin rarely trod, it seemed more intimate than the rest. Maybe it was because they were in the sanctity of Moomintroll’s room instead of the freedom of the open air, or maybe it was because of the way Snufkin imagined Moomintroll looking up at him, blue eyes the colour of a perfect summer sky, and full of love and understanding. It was love, it had to be, and here in his thoughts Snufkin was sure of it. And here, on this rarely trodden path, such a notion didn’t scare Snufkin away. Here, under the golden glow of a lantern and in the safety of fantasy, love like this was unconditional and freeing.
Moomintroll pulled off of Snufkin and whispered his name -Snufkin- soft and tender, like it was the most precious thing in the world.
It was that thought that completed things. Snufkin’s breath caught in his throat and his body shuddered. Pleasure washed over him like a waterfall, powerful and relentless and all consuming in the way that all waterfalls aught to be, with cold spring water that was crisp and clear. A paw -at this point it hardly mattered who's paw it was- continued to stroke him through it, gripping him just right, moving at the exact right speed. He allowed himself to ride this feeling out. He was the only one in this quiet valley that was still awake so he had all the time in the world. His legs trembled, his tail twitched, and nestled deep beneath his ribs he could feel his heart thundering in his chest. It was a gratifying symphony of sensations and as the pleasure ebbed he allowed reality to take its place once more.
He took a few long moments to steady out his breathing, and then took a few more to enjoy the stillness of the night. Somewhere out in the darkness he heard the rustling of leaves, the soft movement of underbrush, and maybe he wasn’t the only one awake this far into the night.
For a brief, especially rash instant, Snufkin entertain the idea that moments like this could be shared and didn’t have to be a private matter.
Regardless, it was late enough and pondering and dilly dallying was unnecessary. He lit his lantern and quickly washed himself up in the stream, and by the time he had returned to his bedroll his eyelids were heavy. He was warm and sated, and he fell asleep easily, his dreams full of warm summer days and exciting adventures with his very best friend.