(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

{from here}

Sinric lead Hannibal out of a doorway and into the warm light of spring afternoon. He cranes to look up, following the line of the wall and the buildings. "We're in the right place. The bath should be just through there."

He points to a alley that leads out the road and the grand entrance to the bath houses. "It is small by some standards. Only large enough for thirty or forty people. Many of the greater baths have closed for the cost to keep them is very high and many wealthy households have smaller bathes of their own."

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

"I am proud." He smiles softly, still only dangling his feet in the water. "History remembers his victories and his failures and his fierce stance on iconography. It forgets the time and money he poured into the city, into keeping the people safe.

"Around the time of my birth, plague struck the city and killed many. Constantine did not blame God or the wickedness of men. He turned the army to work restore clean water, bought great stocks of food and had it brought into the city so people would neither starve nor pay a fortune for bread. He spread word to the people fleeing the wars in Greece and Spain that the city was open and welcoming, repopulating it with those in need of a home. These are the acts for which he should be remembered." His face is flushed with passion, his voice sure and strong.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal looks up at him, reaching out an arm as if to lure him into the water.

"History remembers that," he says, "but as a footnote, as the dull stuff. But in reality, that is the blood and bones of any empire, that is what keeps civilisation working and people content. It should be the benchmark by which all rulers are judged, but unfortunately, it isn't. Wars and scandals shine so much brighter in their luridness throughout the centuries."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric accepts the lure and slides into the water, resting at Hannibal's side. "He tries to teach Leo such things. When I was-" he cuts himself off, "After what was done to me, Constantine sent him to the outermost wall on the very northern edge of the Empire to tend to the upkeep and repair of the walls there. Both as punishment as to teach him that it is an emperor's due to see to the protection of all citizens."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal throws an arm around Sinric, and leans in to bestow a small kiss to his temple. "You are so lovely, with any colour of hair," he whispers. "It's about who you are, you know. So passionate about the good work your Emperor does -- that speaks of the beauty of your heart and soul."

He leans back again.

"Teaching as punishment isn't optimal didactics, though. Learning from one's punishment can work, but there's no guarantee."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric flushes sweetly at the compliment and snuggles close to Hannibal, resting on hand on his chest. "Thank you."

He settles to rest his head against Hannibal's shoulder, letting the warm water soak into him. "Perhaps not. Perhaps there was never a way to teach Leo to be a better man but I think it a credit that my Lord never stops trying. In part I am glad he will not know the ruin that will fall of his house because of his son's failings as a man."

[cook_the_rude]

"I think we can all be grateful that we won't know what people do to ruin our legacies after our deaths," Hannibal muses.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric moves to face Hannibal, half straddling his lap. He cups Hannibal's cheek and kisses him with slow but powerful passion. "I will always remember you with gladness, for your kindness, your warmth and your care."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal returns the kiss with the same kind of passion, putting his arms around Sinric. "You don't need to remember me just yet," he says. "I'm right here, and hope to stay in your orbit for a while, as long as Milliways brings us both."

[thewidewideworld]

"As I hope too." He smiles and kisses Hannibal again, settling across his lap. "Shall we move on to the caldarium?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes," Hannibal says. "Let us move on."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric kisses him again and rises out of the water, like a dark haired Venus. He fetches the towels and their sandals and leads Hannibal to antechamber of the caldarium. The hypocausts heats the room, not quite hot as a sauna, allowing the bather to warm enough to be ready for the caldarium proper.

Sinric lounges on a stone bench, inviting Hannibal to join him till they build up a sweat and move on.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal sits beside him, and discreetly drapes his towel over his own lap.

He exhales.

"This is very pleasant," he murmurs, "so I don't want to risk it becoming too pleasant where people can see it."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric smiles and stretches out a little, enjoying the anticipation of their privacy later. The stone is smooth and warm but not yet hot. He teases long fingers over Hannibal's shoulder. "The frigidarium will rob that heat from you fast enough." He purrs.

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes, it will make me retreat into myself," Hannibal says. "People have used cold water for a long time to stave off their sheer physical desire if they couldn't or wouldn't indulge."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric chuckles warmly and gets up to move into the next room, far warmer than this.

He sprinkled water on the blazer at the centre of the room with a stick of rosemary, sending fragrant steam into the air. He gestures to a woodern bench where they can both sit or lay.

"I suspect you have more sophisticated ways to control unwanted desires?"

They are not alone in the chamber, three older men sprawl in one corner, sharing wine and sweating with evident enjoyment. They give Hannibal a polite nod, admiring Sinric with dignified grace. As one would admire a work of art hung in someone else's house.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal sits on his towel, and spreads his arms, relaxing and welcoming.

"We have drugs for that, yes," he says, "but they're heavy measures that influence the entire body and are only used on convicted paedophiles and the like. Not something a priest can take casually to keep his hands and thoughts from straying; he still has to wing it on his own, with prayer and cold water."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric gracefully lays himself in Hannibal's arms, his pale skin glistening. He keeps to modern English as he learnt it in the bar. Even a studied linguist of his own time would only follow the odd word so they can speak fairly freely.

He snorts at the idea of a priest bothering to curtail his wandering hands. He's never meet any who bothered to.

"I meant yourself, sir. I would suppose you have some form of mental disciple." His eyes dance playfully. "To keep yourself from rising unbidden?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes," Hannibal says. "Cold water, and mental walks in cold places, while I'm in the hands of my enemies and under constant observation. I don't want them to see that."

He leans to kiss Sinric. "Escaping to Milliways and finding you there helps."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric smiles and returns the kiss, aware of the discrete observations of the other men. Not that their behaviour is improper or out of place.

"I am very glad to be an escape for you, sir. However I can help." He trails soft fingers down the centre of Hannibal's chest.

[cook_the_rude]

"In many more ways than just physical pleasure," Hannibal assures him, with half-lidded eyes and a little sigh at the touch. "But the sex helps very much, and is exquisite."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric purrs and stokes back Hannibal's hair where the damp strands stick to his forehead, leaning on to kiss away a drop of sweat as it glides down Hannibal's clavicle.

[cook_the_rude]

"You give me great pleasure," Hannibal whispers, "and have become very dear to me."

[thewidewideworld]

"You bring me great comfort and care. And I have come to love you." Sinric whispers in return. In Lithuanian. Someone's been studying.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal bends his head to kiss him again. "Perfect," he whispers back, in the same language.

[thewidewideworld]

He purrs into the "I aim to pleasing." Okay, maybe he hasn't got it just perfect yet.

And then back to modern English. "I think we need drinks. Shall I fetch us some?"