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"I'm no spring chicken, either, and survived that," Hannibal says. "What's most important stays -- your skills, your knowledge, the experience you gained."

Sinric rises to cross to Hannibal, cupping his cheek and drawing him into a kiss. "You wear your experience with a nobility and dignity I envy. Even the brand. I wish I felt so at ease with my own scars, even this new one."

"You can learn that," Hannibal assures him.

Sinric lifts his head, shaking his hair back and taking a deep breath. The action seems to steady him, his shoulder back and his chin lifted. He nods and steps to Hannibal, drawing him into a kiss.

He's done feeling sorry for himself this morning.

"That's the spirit," Hannibal murmurs, kissing him back avidly.

Sinric purrs into the kiss, pressing his bare chest against Hannibal's. He runs his hands over the silk of Hannibal's robe to feel the hard muscle of the man beneath.

There's something about the way Hannibal kisses that never fails to make Sinric fell valued.

Amids the kisses, Hannibal presses smoothly into the touch, enjoying Sinric's touch on his body.

Sinric's own skin is cool to the touch, his hair still damp from the shower but it warms swiftly as desire rises in him.

He slips a hand beneath the robe, tracing the line of one muscular thigh up to the joint of Hannibal's hip and around to cup his rear in his small but sure palm.

Hannibal moans, pulling Sinric closer in sudden rising desire.

Sinric answers his moan with a not undemanding squeeze, his hand sliding lower so his fingers brush down the curve of his crack.

His kiss becomes likewise insistent, seeking entrance to Hannibal's mouth.

"Oh yes," Hannibal says, granting entrance in both instances.

Sinric teases his thumb over the rim Hannibal's entrance, kissing him with passion. He curls his other hand in Hannibal's hair, tilting his head back so he can trace sharp kisses over the Doctor's powerful throat.

Hannibal moans, and tilts back his head, putty in Sinric's hands.

"I would have you." Sinric purrs darkly, his lips drifting down to graze over one nipple. "As you've had me." His thumb pressing a little deeper, massaging tight circles around his hole.

Edited 2016-11-12 14:56 (UTC)

"Yes, Sinric," Hannibal moans. "Yes!"

He doesn't even ask how.

Sinric nods and presses his thumb a little deeper, enough the feel the tightness of Hannibal's body accept him.

He withdraws and steps back, looking Hannibal over with hunger in his eyes.

"Undress. And kneel in the bed. Wait for me there."

His voice has a note of command blended with naked desire.

Slowly, Hannibal starts doing so.

He finds this very arousing, this much is clearly visible.

Sinric watches him, clearly enjoying it just as much. He steps closer, running a hand down Hannibal's chest to flick a nipple, lower still to fondle his balls. "Stay here, just like this. I won't be long."

He drops the towel around this waist, folding it neatly before pulling on Hannibal's robe.

He slips out the door, glancing back with a wicked smile, returning a few moments later with silk wrapped bundle.

He stands at the edge of the bed, looking Hannibal over as he untied the silk ties.

Hannibal watches, motionless and fascinated.

Inside is a lacquered box, a work of art in its own right. The way Sinric touches it, running his hands over the crest of the lid and down to clasps is almost ritual, like the dancing a tea ceremony.

Very slowly, he draws out a phallus of milk veined jade, carved with intricate patterns of lotus flowers and dragon scales.

He presents it, holds it out for Hannibal to see. Not overly large, the size of an average caucasian man and curved in its glory. Hollow and flanged at the base to fit the belt resting in the box. "With this, if you will permit? I very much desire to have you."

Hannibal's eyes are blown wide with desire. "Yes, oh please!"

An involuntary sound of hunger comes from the back of Sinric's throat, his own eyes wide with desire.

He leans in to kiss Hannibal, hard and wanting.

He then leans back and starts cleaning the phallus with the same ritual grace, first with strong spirits and a cloth of linen, then with a scented oil, warm and spicy.

He fits the phallus to the belt, slipping it over his own small member before coming over to kiss Hannibal again. Just as forcefully as before.

"Yes," Hannibal moans, hungrily as he is kissing Sinric back. He reaches down to touch the warmed jade phallus.

Sinric moans, letting the secondhand pleasure of Hannibal's touch warm him. He oils his fingers again, reaching between Hannibal's thighs to massage his hole.

Hannibal sighs deeply and bends to allow him deeper access.