OOM: Farewell to Sinric

[cook_the_rude]

 Hannibal leads the way upstairs and to his private room -- which is as it was. Mostly.

"Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" is gone from the walls; instead, there are archaeological drawing of Scythian tattoos, with the merest hint at the bodies they used to be applied to, the stark black art dominating the pencilled outline of a neck, a shoulder, a thigh, a pair of buttocks.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

It's perfect! Exactly what he wanted. Having driven Hannibal to the depth of desire, to now be able to feel the force of it, helpless b before the fire. Even if he bruises at the roughness of this, it's perfect.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal slams into him for about two dozen more times before he spills copiously into Sinric, shouting out his unbridled, all-consuming peak.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric groans, feeling the flood of heat fill him, coat him.

He pulls away, enough for Hannibal to slip from him and pulls him down to join him on the bed. Knowing how long it takes Hannibal to flag, he snuggles close mounting him again so they can lay together with Hannibal inside him.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal gives a little thrust to anchor himself deeply inside Sinric, and then lies back with Sinric in his arms.

"Thank you," he murmurs.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric groans as Hannibal slides into place, resting his face against Hannibal's neck. "It is I should be thanking you. For indulging me so."

[cook_the_rude]

"I wanted to say good-bye properly," Hannibal says. "You are going out there to face history."

[thewidewideworld]

"The passing of a dynasty and a new world to be found. The Silk Road will be a great adventure if half the tales spoken of the crossing are true."

[cook_the_rude]

"It will be, and I want to hear everything," Hannibal says.

[thewidewideworld]

"You shall." He promises. "I hope that I can return often, to write and talk of my adventures."

He snuggles in close, enjoying the closeness.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal strokes Sinric's shoulders, and his back.

"I look forwards to it very much."

[thewidewideworld]

"Will you wash with me, before I go?" After all, he goes back to his emperor and can't do so smelling of another man. "I'm in no haste to move but I'd rather like to enjoy sharing a shower with you before I leave."

[cook_the_rude]

"I'm very glad to do so," Hannibal says. "But let'S take another half-hour or so to regroup. You've rather wrung me dry."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric chuckles and kisses Hannibal's shoulder. "I don't think I've ever seen you so wonderfully wild. It was exhilarating."

[cook_the_rude]

"Your desire is very, very arousing," Hannibal says.

[thewidewideworld]

He ducks his head, smiling. "I'm not usually so demanding. Thank you for indulging me. I feel quite invigorated by it."

[cook_the_rude]

"You can keep doing that, as far as I am concerned," Hannibal says. "When you are back, that is."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric leans up to kiss him, tightening the inner muscles that still hold Hannibal within him. "I should like that very much."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal gasps briefly at the sudden flare-up of pleasure.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric purrs at his reaction and grinds a little, just a little. "Am I being cruel?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Utterly!" Hannibal moans.

He is actually, impossibly growing harder again, inside Sinric.

[thewidewideworld]

"You are a man of intelligences, refinement. A worldly man who has only ever shown me kindness." He rocks slowly, building Hannibal's desire. "But something tells me you sometimes indulge a little cruelty."

[cook_the_rude]

"Ganymede," Hannibal gasps. "He enjoys it. I oblige. There's nothing I wouldn't indulge in, if offered."

[thewidewideworld]

"I understand Ganymede's desire," He shifts his weight, guiding Hannibal into his back and still milking him to hardness with tight and practiced movements, "even if I don't share it. But there is pleasure in this, in having the upper hand over someone far more physically powerful than I."

[cook_the_rude]

"It's not your hand," Hannibal says, thrusting as if despite himself, "that is in the upper position here."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric purrs richly, rolling with the thrust. He chuckles as he leans in to kiss the curve of Hannibal's chest, lips just grazing his nipple. "We work with what we have. And my hands are small," he slides said hands over Hannibal's chest and up his arms, closing around his wrists in a playful pin.