(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

[From here]

Sinric leads Hannibal up to his room, tiredly shedding his belt and pouches. The ones that contain far more than they should. "Would you care to share a bath with me?"

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric shudders and cries warmly. He can't peek again, not so soon. But that doesn't diminish his ability to feel pleasure. To revel in it. Each thrust stokes the flames, his body tightening in response.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal thrusts, slowly and steadily, giving and taking pleasure at the same time.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric gives himself over to it, meeting each thrust with a moan of pleasure. Balancing, he reaches back over his shoulder, holding a hand out to Hannibal.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal reaches for him as he keeps thrusting.

[thewidewideworld]

The position contorts Sinric's lean body just right, forcing him to arches his back sharper, focusing and grounding him in the flesh. "Hard." He whispers breathlessly. "Please?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Hard!" Hannibal promises, starting to thrust hard and fast and strong.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric throws his head back and cries for joy and pleasure. Gold flames lick them both, forming a corona of light around them.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal gives a long moan and goes even faster.

[thewidewideworld]

"Fall to me." Sinric begs, his voice strange and powerful under the roof's wondrous acoustics. "Flood me with your desire."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal thrusts three more times and the spills, shouting with unrestrained pleasure.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's warm song joins Hannibal's, feeling the heat fill and fill him. He falls to the bench, sweaty and glowing, turning to grin up at Hannibal. "And now I am home."

[cook_the_rude]

Still gasping from his release, Hannibal gathers him close and kisses him. "You are," he murmurs. "Welcome."

[thewidewideworld]

{ooc: fade too. How lovely!}