(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

[From here]

Sinric leads Hannibal to his room, to his bed. He kisses Hannibal deeply and gently pushes him onto the bed. He undresses. Slowly.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric breathes a warm curse, leaning in to kiss Hannibal savagely, adding a little weight to the hand at Hannibal's throat. When he leans back, his lips red from the kiss as he tightens his other hand around the base of Hannibal's cock.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal is all wordless moans and utter ecstasy in the present moment.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric leans in, whispering breathless words in Hannibal's ear in Latin. "Mine. Powerful blood drinker, soul eater. Mine for the taking."

He tilts his hips, seeking the seat of Hannibal's pleasure. Seeking to break him apart to the core.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal shouts with pleasure and desire, struck as a stone needs to be struck just right to eventually fall apart and reveal the artwork inside.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric drinks in the beauty of Hannibal's collapse, the savage joy of the release.

He waits till Hannibal is breathless, boneless and sated before leaning in to kiss his lips softly, lifting his hand away from Hannibal's throat.

His eyes catch the light warmly as he draws back. "This is my design."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal looks at him, wordless and satiated; still, somebody who knows him well can see the well-oiled mechanism of his mind coming into fierce motion again.

[thewidewideworld]

He knows the words weren't his own. But in the moment, they felt right, rising to his tongue almost without his consent.

He looks into Hannibal's eyes, his own still golden, watching the gears turn. He touches Hannibal's face softly, almost questioningly.

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes," Hannibal murmurs. "Just so."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods and withdraws with care, setting the phallus and belt aside to clean later.

He moves to the room's little kitchenette, shameless in his nakedness. He returns with two glasses and a very fine bottle of wine, which he sets to breathe.

Giving Hannibal time to think through whatever it is that has waken in his mind.

He sits on the corner of the bed, head cocked as he pours the wine.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal sits eventually, stark naked, eyes soft and nipples peaked, and wordlessly reaches out for the wine.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric rubs his ankle against Hannibal's thigh, watching him closely as he sips his own wine. That was an intense coupling. A pair of them in fact. They both need a moment in refection. And he knows his words, if they were his words, have affected Hannibal deeply.

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes," Hannibal says, slowly, out of context, but not seeming to need one, or provide one.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods and sips a little more wine before moving to snuggle at Hannibal's side. "I hope so." Such intensity can lead to doubt. And he doesn't want that between them.

[cook_the_rude]

"Thank you," Hannibal says, turning to kiss him deeply. His lips taste of wine.

[thewidewideworld]

"My pleasure, and my joy." Sinric answers in open honesty. "Stay with me tonight?"

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal takes another sip.

"Yes," he says. "We can talk about what happened, or something else, and if we want to, we can sleep."

[thewidewideworld]

"If you want to talk about it?" He asks softly, resting his head on Hannibal's shoulder. "I feel like those words belonged to you more than me."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal shakes his head. "What happened before we came up," he says. "Why you needed music and sex so urgently."

[thewidewideworld]

"Ah." Sinric sips his wine, taking his time to frame an answer. "It seems a little petty now. Now you've helped me shed the fuel of that fire."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal nods. "It's been put in its place, then."

[thewidewideworld]

He takes a moment before answering, making sure of his own feeling. "I think so." He sighs, luxuriating in the warmth of the wine and the passions they have shared. "My journey is too long to be weighted down by such petty moments."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal nods. "Not worth sharpening a knife for."

[thewidewideworld]

"No man is my enemy." Sinric shrugs, "Nor woman. Not even the Vǫlva."

[cook_the_rude]

"I would kill and cook her for you, if you wanted," Hannibal says, starkly."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric leans up to kiss him, smiling gratefully. "No need. Though I would be interested to know what power could be drawn from them. No, I made sure they feared and respected me in my own right."

He lifts his hand, flexing his fingers as the mesh of gold under his skin shines. "There are... aspects of my gifts, spells I learnt on the tree that I've... no reason to use here. But that the Vǫlva understood well enough. They will not cross me."