(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 cups the back of Hannibal's head, his hips moving in tiny aborted thrusts and the fire within and without flickers brightly.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal let's the prick-tip slip from his lips and applies his mouth completely to massaging the root of it, tongue darting at the hole.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric whimpers with loss, his hot skin seeming all the cooler without Hannibal's lips. But the heat soon builds again as Hannibal works his mouth at the base of Sinric's scar. "Soon! Oh, Hannibal."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal works his lips on that spot and slides a hand up to Sinric's breasts again.

[thewidewideworld]

His gasps become higher, sweeter, his flames brighter. He feels the peek coming, arching sharply.

At the moment of orgasm, his skin turns bright gold, his cry of joy echoing off the walls and ceiling.

[cook_the_rude]

At that moment, Hannibal takes the tip between his lips, suckling every last little drop, savouring it like a rare nectar of the gods.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric falls back onto the couch, sprawled and sated. He reaches a lazy hand down to stoke Hannibal's hair, drawing him up into a kiss.

He's fading back into a soft glow, his skin flushed and warm.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal holds him in his arms and kisses him gently while the glow fades.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric smiles warmly, relishing the warmth of his afterglow. He strokes Hannibal's hair, eyes still warmly gold. "You make me shine." He whispers with deep appreciation.

[cook_the_rude]

"I feel honoured to," Hannibal says.

[thewidewideworld]

"As I am by your attention." Sinric smiles, kissing the corner of Hannibal's lip. He rubs a leg gently against Hannibal's hip, just enjoying the lethargy a little longer. "I still desire you inside me."

[cook_the_rude]

"And I desire to be there," Hannibal assures him warmly with another kiss.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric rolls under his stomach under Hannibal, offering himself up.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal smoothly rises from the floor and kneels on the couch, between Sinric's knees, and touches a questing fingertip to Sinric's hole.

[thewidewideworld]

"Yes." Sinric breathes softly, his over-sensitive nerves singing to the touch. He relaxes, opening to Hannibal.

{ooc: sorry, I swear I tagged this. Must have been eaten.}

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal applies some more slickness to Sinric's hole, then puts his prick-tip against it and starts pushing, gently but insistently.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric whimpers warmly, his heat enveloping Hannibal. He arches his long back, fearless to show his back, and his scars to Hannibal. There is no part of him needs to be hidden here.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal pushes inside, to the hilt, and keeps still.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's skin scintillates with gold, little flames dancing over the curves of his lower back.

He pushes up, fine muscles flexing as he goads Hannibal to thrust.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal takes a few deep breaths, but then his hips move, slowly withdrawing, then sinking back into the golden heat of Sinric's body.

[thewidewideworld]

Watching himself sink into that heat.

Sinric can only imagine how he must look - his heart shaped buttocks spread wide, flexing as at each thrust his body stretches to take Hannibal's length. The thought alone adds to his own desire.

He lifts himself onto his elbows, feeling the change of angle change the sensation, hair falling in a waterfall over one shoulder.

[cook_the_rude]

"Perfection," Hannibal breathes, smoothly hitting the sweet spot inside Sinric.

[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.