OOM: With Sinric in a New Orleans hotel

[cook_the_rude]

The hotel room is dark and plush, wood matte and gilt faded, and still it exudes a well-cared-for decadence that is somewhere between antebellum and fin-de-siecle.

Sinric marvels at how Hannibal has a knack for finding such places. "Lovely." he smiles, not expecting something quite so refined.

"Would you unlace me, please?" He unclips the feathered tailpiece and sets it aside, rolling his shoulder to offer Hannibal his back -- a back still slightly red from the wall of the alley.

Hannibal drops a kiss to the nape of Sinric's neck, and begins to undo the corset. Sinric gives a soft, graceful sigh and holds the front of the corset in place as Hannibal unlaces him. Where his lips touched, there's a lingering trace of gold under Sinric's skin.

"It is you who are the loveliest in here," Hannibal says, peering at them both in the age-spotted gilt-framed mirror.

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

"And I have 18th century finery to get back into," Hannibal says, getting up and holding out a hand to Sinric.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric wraps his hand around Hannibal's springing to his feet. He kisses Hannibal, dashing into the shower to wash off quickly. All the while sharing kisses with Hannibal.

Their detour into- whatever realm of being they shared has energised him greatly, leaving him bright and cheerful.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal is soon again dressed in rococo finery, smiling at Sinric as they are ready to go.

The room feels as if a sparkle of the magic still remains; whoever comes next might be in for a bit of a special treat.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric wiggles into a cute little flapper outfit, gloves and all and takes Hannibal's hand. "Shall we dance, good lord?"

{ooc: head for fade? Unless Hannibal feels like hunting down the rude boy.}

[cook_the_rude]

"Dance we shall!"

And maybe hunt, later. And partake.-


[[OOC: Wrap is good, with this hint of it maybe happening...]]