(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]

"I hope so," Hannibalmsays, smiling.

[thewidewideworld]

"Anyone with eyes can see that. You are... singular. Utterly unique." He leans up to kiss Hannibal deeply. "And fascinating to me."

[cook_the_rude]

"As you are to me," Hannibal says, after returning the kiss just as deeply. "And I can see us keeping on fascinating each other for quite a while yet."

[thewidewideworld]

"I live in hope that I will remain of interest to you. At the very least I can bring you to see the wonders of my world as often as possible." And the wonders of the far east as I discover them."

[cook_the_rude]

"The wonders of your world," Hannibal says, "pale beside the wonder that is you -- bit I am still sincerely grateful and happy to see them. We should never lose our ability for amazement."

[thewidewideworld]

A slightly slurred voice cuts in from the doorway. "Hurry up, old man." The youth who leered in the antechamber as they came in, leers at them now, a jug of wine in his hand. "There are people waiting to fuck this pretty whore of yours."

Sinric stiffens, caught between fear and outrage.

[cook_the_rude]

"Wrong door," Hannibal answers. "I'm not for sale."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric dissolves into a fit of giggles as the youth's friend haul him away, burying his face in Hannibal's neck. From the knife edge of indignation and fear, he loses himself in manic laughter he just can't seem to stop.

[cook_the_rude]

"You wouldn't have sold me, would you?" Hannibal says, sounding and looking completely calm and innocent.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric covers his mouth, still bubbling over giggles. "Never! He could never have afforded you, sir. You're too fine for the likes of him."

[cook_the_rude]

"Not a good business deal he was offering, then," Hannibal says, now barely able to keep the laughter out of his voice, either. "Sensible of you to decline."

He leans in to kiss Sinric.

[thewidewideworld]

"Oh, not a good deal at all." Sinric still giggles, returning the kiss gladly. The pleasure they shared and the really good laugh lifts his spirits considerably and Sinric all but glows with joy. "Besides, you are here as my guest. Why should I want to share you, even if he had offered me a good deal for your pleasures?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Some people aren't civilised enough," Hannibal,says, still barely containing his mirth, "to distinguish between the pleasures shares as widely as possible, and those better kept to oneself and one's carefully chosen guest."

[thewidewideworld]

"Sadly true." Sinric muses, his voice still warm with laughter. "But some people aren't civilised enough to distinguish between pleasure and a warm hole. Or good wine from goat water."

[cook_the_rude]

"Alas, the rude will never die out," Hannibal says. "Let us ignore them, this time. Where we're we? Right, being close in post-coital afterglow."

He settles against Sinric again.

[thewidewideworld]

"I like that idea very much." Sinric purrs, nuzzling the curve of Hannibal's neck. "Just to enjoy being held." He craves intimacy as much as sex.

He starts to sing, very softly and very sweetly, just enjoying the feeling of this and the acoustics of the room.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal lies back, eyes half-closed, listens, and relaxes, easy a a big cats sure of his territory.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric enjoys the sprawling neatness, his comfort and satisfaction sounding in his song. The sun dips behind the city's wall, casting long shadows.

The pretty Nubian girl clears her throat in the doorway, carrying a candle to light the lamps.

Sinric smiles to her. "Thank you." He looks to Hannibal. "We should go back soon, I fear."

[cook_the_rude]

"We should," Hannibal agrees, bestirring himself. "No pleasure lasts forever. The fleeting ness, and the memories, make it doubly precious."

[thewidewideworld]

"All things to their seasons." Sinric agrees and steals a kiss before getting to his feet slowly. "And I'm very glad to have shared this one with you."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal gets to his feet as well, then picks up his towel. "Now bsck to the changing room."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods and leads Hannibal down a corridor back to the dressing room.

The wall are painted with stunning frescoes kept bright with care, the tiles underfoot worn with many centuries of feet, comfortable and warm.

[cook_the_rude]

"You can feel that the old hypocausts are still working well," Hannibal murmurs. "Of course, there's slaves working down there."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nods minutely, all too aware of the pain and toil suffered by other slaves within the Empire. And how very lucky he is not to be among them.

[cook_the_rude]

"We always live by the suffering of other creatures," Hannibal says. "We can't not, if we are honest to ourselves. But we can minimise."