(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

{From here}

"This eternal game." He echoes breathlessly as he pulls Hannibal against him to lean into the bark of the cherry tree. "Yes, just so."

He rubs his lean leg against Hannibal's thigh with a soft, needy sigh.

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

"We played it under our cherry trees once before," Hannibal says, hands exploring at the edges of Sinric's tunic.

[thewidewideworld]

"I remember it fondly." He shifts slightly, pressing encouragingly into that touch. "Strange to this these are the fruit of those same flowers."

He kisses the curve of Hannibal's neck, his own hands slipping Hannibal's shirt from his trousers.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal's skin is warm, his back strong as he presses into Sinric's touch.

"We can enjoy them now in a new way," he murmurs.

[thewidewideworld]

"Please? I... I'd like to feel you again." He hand rove up to the raised scars of the brand on Hannibal's back and down to the curve of his lower back.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal gives a pleased moan at that touch, as if it pleased him how boldly Sinric touches his scars.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric touches boldly and openly, plucking at the buttons of Hannibal's shirt. "I may have changed but you are just as I remember you."

[cook_the_rude]

"Just like the cherries, I haven't gone far in time," Hannibal says, stretching into the touch.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods, kissing the revealed skin of Hannibal's collarbone and upper chest as he peels back Hannibal's shirt.

His fingers graze Hannibal's nipples as he maps the lovingly remembered curves of his body.

[cook_the_rude]

"Oh yes, Sinric," Hannibal murmurs, closing his eyes with pleasure.

[thewidewideworld]

He leans in to press slow kisses to Hannibal's nipples, turning them around to press Hannibal gently against the tree as his hands move to Hannibal's waistband.

[cook_the_rude]

"Oh yes," Hannibal murmurs. "Sweet Sinric -- have me!"

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric murmurs an approval, half to himself as he shifts gracefully to his knees. He opens Hannibal's fly with ease, licking his lips as he lifts Hannibal's manhood free.

[cook_the_rude]

"Oh yes," Hannibal gasps. "All yours for that taking!"

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric laughs warmly and laps at the tip of Hannibal's manhood. He looks up at Hannibal as he does, lashes still as long as any woman's and eyes that dance warmly.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal leans back his head and moans with pleasure. His cock pricks up.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric swallows him down slowly, taking his time and enjoying the return of long missed sensations. Hannibal is larger by far than Saga and the soft burn in his throat and jaw are a strange pleasure.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal leans back against the tree, the back of his head knocking softly against it as he tries not to thrash with the overwhelming pleasure.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric reaches for Hannibal's hands, guiding them into his hair, wanting to feel Hannibal's need.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal grips, and thrusts as he is invited to do.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric moans around him, opening his throat to take and take. He runs his hand over Hannibal's hard thighs, pushing his pants down to seek more skin.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal stands with his legs a little more apart, shuffling his feet to do so; he gives another deep moan of pleasure.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric slips a hand between Hannibal's thighs, rolling his stones lightly, just to enjoy to heft of them in his palm.

[cook_the_rude]

"I want to..." Hannibal gasps, but the sharpness of that pleasure drives the words from his tongue.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric purrs a question, looking up at Hannibal through pale lashes.

[cook_the_rude]

"Touch you," Hannbal says. "Please you."