OOM: For Sinric

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal's office is brightly lit today, the windows open to let in grey wintery light which washes palely over the furniture and art.

The pictures are Tang dynasty landscape paintings today, interspersed with court scenes of officials wearing complex hats.

Hannibal politely gestures at the couch, then goes to fetch the wine glasses.

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal kisses the tip of Sinric's; his fingers move to stroke Siniric's thumb.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric lets out a soft sigh. "Hannibal." It's by no means a protest, subconsciously opening to the touch.

[cook_the_rude]

"I am here for you," Hannibal says, softly; his fingers keep moving, oh so gently.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric lets that sink in, still confused and unsure what he needs. But like Ragnar and Athelstan's kisses, Hannibal's touch feels good, healing. He shifts to kiss Hannibal's generous lips, still chasted and soft.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal returns the kiss, careful and slow, closing his eyes as if to concentrate entirely on tasting that kiss.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric draws back with a sigh, setting the glass down with care before reaching up to cup Hannibal's cheek. "Forgive me. I'm still-" he shakes his head and gives up on words, kissing Hannibal again, his lips parting softly.

[cook_the_rude]

"You have not kissed for a long time," Hannibal says, quietly.

[thewidewideworld]

"Not until I came back here. It's more..." He bites his lip. "I haven't shared myself for pleasure, with someone I hold in affection, for a long time. Not since Constantine. I feel as if... as if I've forgot how."

[cook_the_rude]

"You don't have to," Hannibal says. "You were pretty wild the last time -- four years ago for you, just a few weeks for me. We can try again if you want, but there's no hurry."

[thewidewideworld]

"I remember." He smiles softly. "I felt so free that night. So wonderfully wild. And I'm very grateful for that. Because of what you allowed me to be that night, I was able to be more free with Constantine in our last days together."

[cook_the_rude]

"So you made memories to last you the rest of your life," Hannibal nods.

[thewidewideworld]

"For all of us, I hope. When I guided him to bring me to peak for the first time, he became very keen to see if the others could be coaxed so also. It was... a most enjoyable time. The last happy days of our family." He turns away, blinking.

"Forgive me." He shakes his head. "I came to share wine and music with you and here I am speaking of times past and loves lost."

[cook_the_rude]

"You know you are always welcome to do that, with me," Hannibal says. "If not to me, who then should you be able to talk to about yourself without needing to censor what you say?"

[thewidewideworld]

He nods, Hannibal's words ringing true. Even with Athelstan and Ragnar, there are parts of himself he hesitates to share, for fear of bringing them pain. Especially with Athelstan still healing.

He shifts up to kiss Hannibal again, lips parted softly. "Thank you. And I think I will need to talk, quite a lot at some point. But tonight, I want very much just to enjoy your company. And remember what it is to be at ease."

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes, you can have that first, of course," Hannibal says. "Let me put on some music, then."

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric shifts to let Hannibal up, laying back on the couch to sip his wine. Eyes close to open his other senses, he focuses on the taste of the wine, the warm echo of Hannibal's footsteps, the scent of him still lingering on Sinric's skin. Sprawled out, he looks like some pre-raphaelite portrait.

{ooc: I swear I tagged this. *shakes fist at DW*}

[cook_the_rude]

Soft piano music starts, unlike what Hannibal usually plays -- this is slightly jazzy, and rather abstract.

"This is called Back to the Basics," comes Hannibal's voice, "by the Japanese composer Ruyichi Sakamoto."

His footsteps return, the couch sags as he sits, the wine glass clinks, and then there is the scent of wine rising, and the sound of a sip.

[thewidewideworld]

The new and fascinating style brings a smile to his lips as he listens, eyes still close but utterly in the moment, a part of the space.

After a moment he shifts to rest his head on Hannibal's thigh, one hand raised to gently cup his knee.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal's hand runs through Sinric's hair, very slowly, as if ambling with the music.

[thewidewideworld]

Rather enjoying the experimental nature of the music, Sinric finds himself humming playful counterpoints to the piano. Some of them coming out as purrs as he's stoked.

[cook_the_rude]

Another sip is heard as Hannibal curls a strand of Sinric's hair around his finger, rolls it up all the way, then lets go in a silky motion.

[thewidewideworld]

The reaction is an undoubtedly purr and Sinric stokes down Hannibal's shin, sipping his own wine without lifting his head.

[cook_the_rude]

Underneath Sinric's hair, Hannibal's finger follows the complex shell-shape of his ear.

[thewidewideworld]

The purr becomes something more of a sigh, almost but not quite a moan. Sinric's eyelids flutter as his lips curl in a contented smile.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal bends to kiss his cheek.