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 runs a hand through Sinric's blond hair and hums agreement.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric purrs softly, tilting his head back as Hannibal toys with his hair. "Fortunately Yan is as vain about his long hair as I am and it is not strange thing to bathe often. His servants have grown accustomed to preparing the bathhouse for us at least every second day."

[cook_the_rude]

"That is good," Hannibal says. "Still, showers are a special luxury I'm sure I'd miss, too."

[thewidewideworld]

"As is sharing them with someone special." Sinric smiles, taking the nozzle and rinsing Hannibal's hair and beginning to wash it for him.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal leans back his head and closes his eyes in obvious pleasure.

[thewidewideworld]

Skilled fingers work into Hannibal's scalp, massaging as much as working the shampoo through. Sinric finds the pressure points around the back of his skull, above his ears, at the top of his head, standing on tiptoe to reach them at the right angle.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal puts his legs further apart to make himself more easily reachable for Sinric.

Other than that, he just basks.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric smiles and kisses his shoulder in thanks as he follow the curves of Hannibal's skull the be sure his hair is well lathered before rinsing it out.

Sliding a hand over Hannibal's forehead with practiced ease, he makes sure no suds get in those fascinating eyes. He circles around Hannibal to be sure all the shampoo is out before reaching for the conditioner.

He can't resist the temptation of that spread stance and brushes his hip against Hannibal's rear as he puts the bottle back.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal hums in pleasure and tilts his rear towards Sinric.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric purrs and starts to work the conditioner into Hannibal's hair, leaning in so his front presses warmly against Hannibal's back.

There are few times he mourns being so poorly endowed but it would be nice to slip between Hannibal's thighs like this. Or to be felt at all beyond the brush of blonde curls against the curves of Hannibal's behind.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal seems happy enough to be touched like this, submitting smilingly to Sinric's closeness and ministrations.

[thewidewideworld]

He works the conditioner into Hannibal's hair, his slender fingers combing though to spread it evenly. He presses kisses to Hannibal's neck as he does, his breasts warm against Hannibal's upper back.

[cook_the_rude]

"You're getting me hard again," Hannibal murmurs.

[thewidewideworld]

"Truly? How rude of me." Sinric purrs, running one hand down Hannibal's chest, casually brushing a nipple as he reaches down to gently cup Hannibal's hardening member.

"I shall have to offer myself up to slake your growing desires." He strokes slowly, teasingly; hands still slick with conditioner.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal pushes forward into the touch, moaning under the water.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric nuzzles his neck, keeping his grip light and teasing. "I would have you inside me?" He whispers, breathless at the thought. "I have missed how it feels to be filled by you."

There's a stronger edge to his voice now, a confidence returning.

[cook_the_rude]

"I should sit on something," Hannibal gasps, "and you could sit on me."

[thewidewideworld]

"I like the sound of that." Sinric sighs, letting go with a little squeeze and stepping back to rinse the conditioner from Hannibal's hair.

However hot he feels at the prospect of riding Hannibal, making sure he finished his task of washing Hannibal's hair is more important. "Your couch perhaps?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Couch sounds good," Hannibal says, closing his eEs once more.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric gives him one last rinse and turns off the taps, running his hands through Hannibal's hair to squeeze out the water, a habit of having much longer hair.

Nimble on light feet, he offers Hannibal a towel before seeing to the weight of his own long mane.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal takes the towel and starts drying himself off briskly.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric starts to dry himself too, stealing a kiss. "Will you go to the couch and wait for me, please? I have something I'd like to do for you that will require a moments preparation."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal hangs up his towel, nods, and walks over into the office, sitting on the couch again.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric comes out from the bathroom, dressed in the green silk once more. He moves to the stereo and selects a more classicaly Turkish piece he recognises. He closes his eyes and lets it soak into him before beginning to dance.

Somewhere between freeform ballet and something more primitive, he moves gracefully. The full skirt twirls with him, the split revealing flashes of pale thigh.

He moves towards Hannibal, dark eyes flashing and warm, dancing for Hannibal alone.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal follows his every move with his eyes, quite visibly liking what he sees.