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

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

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

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

Edited 2016-08-22 21:42 (UTC)

Sinric nods and leans back, drawing his tongue along the underside of Hannibal's cock in a teasing lap as he does.

Hannibal reaches down to caress Sinric's face, moaning at the new sensation.

Sinric releases Hannibal's manhood with a last flick of his tongue over the underside of his head and looks up. "Do you want me, my friend?"

"Yes!" Hannibal hisses, wild with need.

Sinric rises and steps back, opening the soft linen tunic as he does.

He strips with the quiet confidence of one who knows his body is still desirable. Or at least in the eyes of the beholder. He turns one shoulder to shed the shirt, unintentional giving Hannibal a glimpse of the sacrificed kanji cut deeply and deliberately into his shoulder blade.

Ignoring it (or unaware he's shown it) he strips to his skin and presents himself to Hannibal, welcoming his friend's desire.

Hannibal pulls him close, and kisses him deeply, his prick nudging at Sinric's stomach.

Sinric groans and lifts himself onto his toes to take Hannibal's manhood between his thighs, rubbing against his damp skin.

Hannibal moans, and thrusts against Sinric, needy and fierce.

"I want you inside me." Sinric whispers, a little breathless as he clings to Hannibal.

"Oh yes," Hannibal gasps.

His prick moves against Sinric's skin; the words alone seem to heighten his arousal even more.

"I have nothing-" he pants, "to ease the way." Is all he can say to ask Hannibal to take him with care.

"But I have."

Hannibal pushes off from the tree where Sinric had ensnared him, smiling down at him.

"Stand against the tree, back to me, legs slightly apart, and you shall see."

That sounds like a promise.

Sinric nods and steps back to swap spots with Hannibal. He braces his hands a little above his head.

He shows his back, head tilted slightly, aware of the new scars he's showing. Most notably the kanji cut into the meat of his shoulder. The two characters form an arcane translation of born of the sun.

Hannibal stands behind him, bends, and begins by kissing the kanji on Sinric's shoulder, then makes his way down his back.

Sinric shudders softly, but not in a bad way at the kiss over his scars. Up close Hannibal may notice that the twined characters are made of two layers - one cut rough and jagged with a second set of more precise and careful cuts that change the meaning of the kanji into sun born.

Sinric seems to sense what Hannibal has in mind and moans softly, widening his stance.

But at first, Hannibal kisses his way down softly -- appreciating each rib, each scar, each muscle on Sinric's back.

Sinric shivers, his breathing quickening with the touch. There something about Hannibal's touch that makes him feel both precious and adored, and stripped of all masks.

Hannibal has always had that effect on him. Those maroon eyes both gilded him and held him naked.

Hannibal ends up kneeling down behind him.

By now, Sinric is panting hotly, his head hung and his arms high like an icon of Saint Sebastian.

He spreads his legs, lean muscles corded and tense.

Hannibal kisses each of Sinric's buttocks, then finally licks deeply between them.

Sinric swears softly in Nippon, digging his fingernails into the soft bark of the cherry tree. He lifts his rear, opening him to Hannibal's ministrations.