(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

[From here}

Sinric leans on Hannibal all the way back to his room. Inside it is warm and dark, a handful of candles burning in a sconce, giving the nook around the bed welcoming air. "Will you undress me? I think I've been in this costume long enough."

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

"There is no 'too deeply' for me," Hannibal says. "But you are exhausted, so reach no further. Instead, I will pamper you with food, drink, pleasure, sleep."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric smiles honestly. "I'm very grateful for that. That you understand, and have no fear of me. I saw how Father Harman looked at me when he felt the shadows lengthen."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal reaches up to cup Sinric's cheek in his hand. "He is a Jesuit; they carry a certain haut-gout, traditionally. Don't mind him."

[thewidewideworld]

"It makes me wonder what he saw." Sinric muses, turning just enough to brush his lips over Hannibal's palm. "Teja too."

He sighs again and, with Hannibal's help, unlaces the bodice and slip the white dress over his head. Beneath he's dressed in a gold Lycra strapless push up bra and gold boyleg shorts. All very 80s.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal smiles, and reaches to undo the bra, following that by kissing the tips of Sinric's small breasts.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric hums a grateful assent, leaning back on his hands. His head aches back, throat exposed, he is the very image of trusting desire.

[cook_the_rude]

Holding Sinric's narrow midriff in his strong, warm hands, Hannibal kisses his way up over the collarbones to Sinric's throat.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's breathing quickens, trusting his weight to Hannibal as he lifts a hand to free Hannibal's hair from it's binding.

It's nice this long and he can't help but purr as it falls over Hannibal's shoulder to brush his skin.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal looks up at him, hair messy and eyes glowing a dark red.

[thewidewideworld]

"The shadows you cast are frightening and beautiful." Sinric whispers, tangling his hand in Hannibal's hair to draw him into a passionate kiss.

[cook_the_rude]

"But you are not afraid," Hannibal whispers, before giving himself to the the kiss with all his passion.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric drinks in those kisses, letting the passion in them renew him. He slides a food between Hannibal's thighs, running his instep over the fabric of Hannibal's beeches.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal tilts his hips into the touch, and sighs a little with pleasure.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric hums happily, shifting to trace the length of Hannibal's inside seam with his foot, brushing softly over the bulge at his crotch.

[cook_the_rude]

"Ahhhh..."

Hannibal can't stop himself from giving voice to his need.

[thewidewideworld]

Just as Sinric wants, and needs. The sexual energy give him back the colour be lost downstairs. "Shall I undress you?" he asks, stroking lightly with the flat of his delicate foot.

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes," Hannibal says. "Yes, please. Please do."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric sits up and pucks at the buttons and laces of Hannibal's costume, kissing the bared skin of his throat as he pushes back Hannibal's waistcoat. He indulges in the feel of shirt beneath, silk and soft.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal closes his eyes, and sighs; between his smiling lips, sharp teeth shimmer.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric leans in to kiss the corner of Hannibal's lips before kissing him fully, his tongue playing softly over Hannibal's sharp teeth.

He unbuttons Hannibal's shirt slowly, running his fingers through the soft matt of hair at his chest.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal opens his eyes a crack.

"This nourishes you, rather than tax you," he murmurs. "You look already much livelier, just from touching me."

[thewidewideworld]

"Not just touching." Sinric answers, stroking down the planes of Hannibal's chest, fingers grazing his nipples. "Sharing. Pleasure, contact. Intimacy. It wouldn't be like this with someone I didn't trust. Someone I wasn't open to."

[cook_the_rude]

"The pleasure I feel replenishes your energy that has been drained by your magic," Hannibal muses. "Should I ever find you close to dying from exhaustion after shifting the world on its axis, I would have to feed you my seed."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric laughs warmly. "The pleasure you feel, the pleasure I take in giving it. All these things. And yes, that might well revive me. But I have no plans to reshape the world just yet."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal smiles at him. "You might need to, in the end."