(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

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal gives a little moan as he thrusts again, his voice low, probably for the sake of sparing the other patrons.

Who probably can tell what is going on here by now, anyway.

[thewidewideworld]

If they don't know by now, they're fools. But more likely very jealous. Because Sinric isn't able to keep his voice so low, each thrust filling him in ways he had almost forgotten.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal speeds up his thrusts, just a little, tilting his hip so he will brush Sinric's sweet spot every time, if at all possible.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric reveals in being taken like this, knowing Hannibal's desire will set the rhythm. He gasps as each thrust makes him ache inside with the fierce, bright pleasure. "Yes! Oh sir. yes!"

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal thrusts faster, and doesn't keep back his moans any more. By this point, he might not even mind if any of the jealous co-patrons peer in on them.

[thewidewideworld]

That would be a distinct breech of protocol. Even if several patrons just beyond are very interested by the sounds.

Sinric can't climax, or even get hard again so soon but that doesn't stop him from enjoying every ounce of pleasure, every bright spark of joy. His voice joins Hannibal's almost in harmony.

[cook_the_rude]

And a breach of protocol would be just rude. We can't have that! So it is probably good for those patrons to keep to it.

Hannibal's voice is far rougher and less harmonic than Sinric's, but yes, the way their moans intertwine is almost musical, and certainly very rhythmical.

[thewidewideworld]

It feels so good, so right. The echo of their voices, the slap of skin and the burn and flash of pleasure. Sinric sinks into it, letting the feeling overwhelm and overtake him, pushing out all other thoughts but the here and now.

[cook_the_rude]

It is a time of timelessness, pleasure enveloping like the warm steam of the caldarium, until finally Hannibal speeds up more and more, and then spills deep into Sinric, with the deepest moan yet.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric whimpers with joy, feeling the flood of heat fill him. He leans onto the bench arm, reaching back to cup Hannibal's hip, squeezing in thanks. He is in no great hurry to move.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal sinks down over him, holding himself up with his elbows on the arm-rest of that bench as not to crush Sinric.

His breathing slows down, gradually.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric turn to kiss Hannibal's cheek, enjoying the press of Hannibal's broad chest against his back and the heat of their bodies. "Thank you, sir."

[cook_the_rude]

"Thank you," Hannibal says, softly, "for this entire experience, Sinric. It's something I will often think of when I am back in my glass cage."

[thewidewideworld]

"I wish I was the sort of person who could free you." Sinric whispers, nuzzling Hannibal's cheek.

[cook_the_rude]

"I will have to wait for Will Graham to do that," Hannibal murmurs.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric looks to him curiously, carefully untangling himself so they can both move into the bench and recline. His knees are still somewhat shaky and he aches in ways he wants to relish. "What is he like?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Awkward and bristly, at first," Hannibal says.

He comes to settle himself beside Sinric, gathering him in his arms.

"He has no social graces, and easily rubs people the wrong way. He is very gifted at putting himself into just anybody's shoes, almost magically so. He speaks in strange, convoluted metaphors at times. Coaxing him out of his shell took some doing, but it was so worth it when he finally came to trust me."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric makes a small contented sound as he rests his head against Hannibal's chest.

He listens quietly, his fingers brushes warmly over Hannibal's strong and beautiful hands. Artist's hands. "He sounds wonderfully strange. I'm glad he was able to trust you. He sounds like someone who could be very lonely otherwise."

[cook_the_rude]

"We were both very lonely, in our way," Hannibal says. "And then, we learned to share who we are in perfect unison. he is because of me, and I am because of him."

Beat, as he turns his hand to stroke Sinric's finger.

"But we are not, or not yet..."

[thewidewideworld]

"Not yet?" He asks softly, soft and plient to the touch. "You sound very much like two halves of the one whole, waiting to complete the other."

[cook_the_rude]

"We are not yet lovers in the physical sense, like you and I are," Hannibal says. "We might never be, depending on how things fall."

[thewidewideworld]

"One doesn't need to share pleasure to love. Nor must one love all whom share their body." He is proof of that. "A meeting of minds and hearts can be far deeper and more powerful than a meeting of flesh."

[cook_the_rude]

"I do love him that way, though," Hannibal says. "I'd want there to be everything between us; together, we make one whole world for us."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods and gently brushes a stray lock back from Hannibal's face, looking deep into his beautifully strange eyes. "Then I hope when he comes to take you from your prison, you can share all things, and know each other deeply."

[cook_the_rude]

"Thank you," Hannibal says. "It doesn't lessen what we share. The Will Graham who comes to Milliways may not even be the one that I know, and he is further back in time."

In Milliways, there will always be a place with Hannibal, for Sinric.