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Sinric squeezes Hannibal's hand. "May I came up to your room tonight? I...I don't want to go to mine just yet." He doesn't want Ragnar to see. And he doesn't want to bring any risk to either Ragnar or Athelstan.

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"I will be modern and decadent for once," Hannibal says, smiling as he gets some longish black electronics from his bedside drawer, and within moments, Bach's Brandenburg Concertos quietly fill the room.

Sinric watches with a smile. "Today is a day for decadence." He settles against Hannibal's side, content to let the music wash over him.

Hannibal puts a hand on Sinric's hip and closes his eyes to listen, making a little sound of agreement.

Sinric lets the music soar and swell inside him, letting it fill him up. His fingers flow over Hannibal's skin, tracing patterns and lines as the music dictates. The muscles under Hannibal's hand bunch and relax, feeling the music with his whole body.

"The basso continuo is extremely soothing," Hannibal murmurs, "just as the melody is lively in counterpoint."

"Like the coolness of waves on a sun-drenched beach. I could imagine listening to this in the Mediterranean."

"It would fit the place, yes," Hannibal agrees, leaning over to kiss Sinric. "Or on a small sailing vessel, in the moonlight."

"Yes." Sinric purrs, at both the kiss and the image. "The moonlight reflecting off the smooth sea as a breeze places lightly in the sails." He sighs warmly, languidly draped over Hannibal's side.

Hannibal closes his eyes and sighs happily as well.

Sinric hums softly, his fingers drawing patterns over Hannibal's skin as the music flows through him.

He leans in to press a kiss to Hannibal's shoulder, shifting to press warmly between his thighs.

"Sinric," Hannibal says softly.

"Hannibal." Sinric answers softly, his lithe body moving agaisnt Hannibal's in open offer. "Listening to music with you makes me desire - to touch, to feel, to be more."

"Whatever you want, you shall have from me," Hannibal says.

"I desire to have you inside me." Sinric purrs, wrapping his legs around Hannibal's hips. "I ache for you."

"You can have that," Hannibal says, putting his arms around Sinric, "as soon as I can wake the required part of myself."

Sinric's eyes glitter with a smile. "May I?" He slides a hand down to stroke Hannibal's inner thigh.

"Of course," Hannibal says, smiling back a challenge.

Sinric grins and kisses his way down Hannibal's chest. Slowly. Pausing to take in every patch of pleasure and inch of sensitivity, lingering over Hannibal's nipples with clever little twists of his tongue.

Hannibal throws back his head an moans -- yes, this is very effective.

"You know me so well, Sinric..."

"I have made a study of you, just as you have of me." Sinric smiles, blowing cool air over a freshly licked patch of Hannibal's hip. "The better to make this music together.

"You very much have," Hannibal moans, already rising up to meet Sinric.

As he works his way down to Hannibal, it's to rub his silken cheek against it, smooth as any part of him. He brushes his lips softly over his head, warm and damp with kissing.

"Oh yes!" Hannibal moans. "You know me so well."

Sinric smiles up at him, his little tongue darting out to tease Hannibal's slit.

"You have me," Hannibal pants, "at your mercy again!"