AU week -- for Jay

[cook_the_rude]

Lecter leads the way outside, turning towards the Caribbean inlet. "I want you to be warm and comfortable," he explains. "None of the danger should stem from harsh rushes or sharp-edged stones against your skin."

Comments

[runningred]

"Works for me." He moves to shed his shirt, all hard muscle and scars. "How do you want to do this?"

[cook_the_rude]

"In whatever way you like it, as long as I get to taste you in the end," Lecter says, running a cool finger over Jay's chest.

[runningred]

"I can get behind that." Jay flattens his hand over Hannibal's, encouraging him to touch more firmly. "I'm not fragile and I like a bit of force."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal runs his hand through Jay's hair, gripping at the roots, and pulling back his head a little.

[runningred]

The hiss that escapes from between Jay's teeth and the hitch in his arousal makes it very, very clear he approves.

[cook_the_rude]

The vampire reaches down to reach between Jay's legs.

[runningred]

Jay presses into the touch, well on his way to hard and panting warmly. "Do you like being touched too?" He asks, riding Lecter's palm a little.

[cook_the_rude]

"Not there," the vampire murmurs. "It doesn't do anything. Not like yours."

He rubs his palm as if to emphasise his point.

"But elsewhere. You are welcome to explore."

Jay will find his body hard and cool everywhere.

[runningred]

Jay touches rather more fleeting, more to get a feel for that hard body than anything else. Part of him isn't sure he wants to know what turns any version of Lecter on but the rest of him is ignoring that thought in favour of riding the vampire's hand.

[cook_the_rude]

Lecter dips his head, the cool tongue-tip seeking the scars on Jay's chest, as if tasting the history.

[runningred]

If he can taste their history, the thick knife scar just below his collarbone will yield the memory of sex as much as violence. The sort of passion that leave scars.

[cook_the_rude]

Lecter touches the tip of a fang to that scar.

[runningred]

Memories well with the drops of oozing blood. A dark haired woman, graceful and dangerous as any stalking predator. Their tryst as much sparing as foreplay in its physicality, both of them pushing for the upper hand. Afterglow, sweaty skin and the air full of sex.

And then the knife. No surprise, just acceptance as the blade goes in three times, swift and deadly.

Only not deadly. Falling to the thick carpet, watching her long legs as he falls. Blood everywhere but nothing vital.

Understanding. And gratitude. This was a kindness

And goodbye.

[cook_the_rude]

The fang goes a little bit deeper yet as the vampire savours that memory.

[runningred]

Jay groans, unaware of how Lecter tastes the memory of Talia's deadly passion and their last night. Only that he's hard and aching. He manages to move away from the stroking hand long enough to get his fly open, wanting that cold grip on him.

[cook_the_rude]

The hand is very cold and hard, like moving stone -- not marble perhaps, but at least soapstone -- and moves readily on what is offered.

The tongue-tip tastes another scar.

[runningred]

Older memories - a younger Jay dancing through the murky moonlight of a Gotham night. Hooting with joy as he throws himself from rooftop to rooftop with the abandonment of youth, flying from zipline to zipline.

[cook_the_rude]

The vampire sinks his fang deeper and laps up the blood from that scar as his hand roughly kneads Jay's flesh.

[runningred]

Jay's panting warmly, hard in Lecter's hand and moving with his touch.

The blood carries the memories of flying, of falling, of flying again.

And then falling. And fast not. Panic flooding his system. Then a hand around his wrist, catching him with a jolt. A jolt so sudden he can feel the muscles in his shoulder tear as the joint dislocates. Pain, surgery, the slow recovery. The frustration of not being able to do what he loves. The disappointment in his mentor's eyes.

[cook_the_rude]

Lecter sinks a fang into one of Jay's nipples.

[runningred]

Jay gasps, the sharpness of the sensation bringing him back to the present very hard. Very, very hard. He pants, close to the end in the vampire's hand. "I'm... I'm close."

[cook_the_rude]

"Then I will taste you through your pleasure," the vampire murmurs before closing his lips around the nipple to suck the blood from it.

[runningred]

Jay gasps and takes that as permission, groaning opening as he cums across Lecter's hand.

[cook_the_rude]

Lecter keeps moving his hand all through, and greedily drinks from the fount he opened up.

It is not much, but he savours it with something approaching a sensual rapture of his own.

[runningred]

Jay lets his head fall back a little, panting roughly. He doesn't pull away from Lecter, letting him drink.

[cook_the_rude]

Through the connection of the blood, Jay's own pleasure is echoing back to him in softly ebbing waves.

[runningred]

Jay runs a surprisingly gentle hand over Lecter's shoulder.

[cook_the_rude]

Lecter takes a few more sips, then lifts his head and slowly licks his lips.

"Would you like to keep that a bit sore," he asks, "or should I heal it?"

[runningred]

"I've got enough scars, if you don't mind?" He answers softly.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal pricks his own finger with a fang, and rubs the drop of blood over the punctured nipple, which heals over quickly.

[runningred]

"Thanks. Get what you wanted out of that?"

[cook_the_rude]

Instead of answering, Lecter smiles and licks a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth.

[runningred]

"Good. Right." Jay redresses swiftly. "Well, this is the bit where I go, I think."

[cook_the_rude]

"Probably," the vampire says. "Thank you very much for this experience."

[runningred]

Jay, utterly unsure how to answer that, touched his forelock in salute and heads back towards the bar.

{ooc: well that was odd! Thank you.}

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal Lecter, on the other hand, quietly vanishes into the dark groves of night-time.-