(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]

"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?"

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal reaches up to playfully touch the drop of sweat on the very tip of Sinric's nipple, then licks his fingertip. "Yes, we are losing liquid and should refill it," he says.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's breath catches, his tiny snail twitching minutely. A small gesture but one Hannibal is well able to read. "Then I will return."

He briefly wraps the towel about him like a toga, and with a backwards glance, slips out into the corridor.

One of the older men clears his throat politely and addresses Hannibal in Greek. "A most biddable and beautiful boy you have." It is spoke as a compliment rather than a leer.

[cook_the_rude]

"Thank you," Hannibal says, turning to the man. "I take great pleasure in him, and he is dear to me."

[thewidewideworld]

"A fortunate man indeed." He man tilts the bottle of wine towards him. "Care to join us? We would be glad of an extra voice to help us settle an argument."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal gets up, and walks over.

"I'm merely a visitor to the city," he says. "So I can't promise that I'll have the answer."

[thewidewideworld]

"We none of us have an answer." the man chuckles, "But each man's voice brings another point of view to the discussion." He pours the wine, a dry white cut with water. "We are debating if the church will fair better under Emperor Leo than it has under Constantine."

"The army certainly won't." Another man adds, speaking into his cup. "I have never known the garrisons so well provisioned."

[cook_the_rude]

"It depends," Hannibal says, "on how you define the church doing well. What is good for it?"

[thewidewideworld]

One of the men snorts softly. "Well Constantine's stance on iconography certainly isn't doing them much good."

The wine is passed around the group. "But Leo's stance is just as harsh. And he's by far a harsher man. He won't just demand they take the pieces down or cover them. He'll take them for himself of have them destroyed."