sharp_as_knives | Gourmet Suite at the Arms Hotel, Sunday morning

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Current Location: Arms Hotel

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Gourmet Suite at the Arms Hotel, Sunday morning

Hannibal woke up, stretched, and blinked. Then gave himself a moment to appreciate the lack of any particularly overwhelming emotion this morning.

He looked over at the others in bed with him ~~whoever ended up in the cuddle pile~~ and chuckled. Well, it had been interesting, there was no denying that.

However, he had no intention of spending another day in Jono's clothing or his own pajamas, thank you.

He got up carefully, took a shower and dressed casually but in his own clothes, and headed out to start the coffee.

He had a feeling they might be needing it.

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Jono couldn't even protest that he wasn't that young. Physically, he was.

He couldn't even cough awkwardly, as was appropriate following a comment like that, blast it. So he was stuck giving Hannibal a bit of a stinkeye, though there was really no heat in it. Hell, so far as looks like that went, this one was something pushing fond.

//That's not a complaint about the day before, is it?//

Look, if Hannibal was going to go there, Jono was going to tease right back.

"Not at all," Hannibal admitted, smiling a little wider. "Except perhaps for the part where breakfast took somewhat longer to eat than expected."

//The eggs had gone stone cold,// Jono noted, amused. //Eggs that good, gone that cold. Shame on us.//

It really hadn't been a disaster, all things considered.

"A terrible shame," Hannibal agreed. "Also," he shook his head, "I can't believe the clothing I wore yesterday. You'll have to play me some of Metallica's music, so I know what that shirt was about."

... Ahahaha. Jono knew he should have rummaged a little more deeply for a shirt for Hannibal. Though, admittedly, at the time he hadn't really cared all that much.

//Well, that will be an... experience.// He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. //I've got some on my phone. Glorified camera and music player, more like. Some of it, you might actually not hate.//

Nor, at the time, had Hannibal. Honestly, the hotel hadn't been that far away.

Hannibal grimaced. "Perhaps with a more proper sound system later," he allowed.

Then a thought occurred to him. "And if anybody should have taken pictures, I would hope they not be shared any further." At least the squirrels didn't have that advantage.

Jono blinked, and then he fell silent, going still as the grave while a look of amusement was etched across his features.

He was laughing.

//Never occurred to me,// he admitted a moment later. //It's Karla or Rinoa you're going to have to watch out for, there. They're really more the sort to want to document something like that for posterity.//

Hannibal snorted. "Karla has already got a picture of me in a leather kilt from one of the island's bouts of whimsy. I asked she promise not to show it to my acquaintances in Baltimore, or to my students. This shouldn't be more embarrassing than that."

//You wore it better than I do,// Jono sniffed. //I don't think 'embarrassing' is really the word for it.//

Okay, so, actually having a chest really helped with the wearing, and all. Congratulations, Hannibal. You had all of the standard anatomy that shirts tended to hang over.

Hannibal looked over Jono from head to toe, but more like a tailor than a partner. "You could wear clothes quite well, I think. You simply don't do yourself enough credit."

//... My chest is concave, Hannibal. I'm not exactly built to fill out a suit.//

Well, not unless he was focusing on filling out those wrappings of his, first.

"Your chest is solid enough when you need it to be," Hannibal pointed out archly. "And a good suit is cut for the person wearing it. My suits would look abysmal on you, and a suit cut for you would look terrible on me."

He paused in getting everything into the pan and pointed at Jono with the spatula. "I could take you to a good tailor, and you would leave looking spectacular. Well," he amended with a mischievous grin, "perhaps a tailor and a barber."

//A barber? My hair is innocent, it hasn't done anything to hurt you,// Jono protested, eyes going wide. //What would you have a barber do?//

If it involved pie, Jono was out of there so fast.

Jono, you had already let the cannibal tie you up. It was a bit late to be worrying about pie now.

Hannibal gave him a slightly exasperated look. "I doubt a trim would go amiss." His expression turned both canny and sympathetic. "When was the last time you pampered your body? Had a manicure or haircut or went to a spa?"

You had entirely too confrontational a relationship with your body, Jono.

Look, so far as Jono was concerned, his body had started it!

//I'm sure I have, at some point in my life, been near a spa. Maybe even down the same street. There is a distinct chance that I could've even glanced through the window from the sidewalk. But I was never the spas and manicures sort. The best you're getting out of me in that regard is that I don't chew my fingernails.//

Because duh.

"And you've decided this in your vast experience of them?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

After a moment, he continued. "Do you know, I have had many patients who are reluctant to begin taking prescribed psychiatric medicines? Because they have been known to be overprescribed, overused, and abused by some people, they suffer from a terrible issue of image. Even when they could do somebody quite a bit of good."

He concentrated on making certain the frittata was cooking evenly and on not smiling too much.

Jono could see your smile, Hannibal. He could see it, and he was going to put a little more effort into attempting to look grumpy.

//Here's where I say that image shouldn't matter just so long as they're doing what they need to do in order to heal, and then you get that smug look on your face, innit?//

"Only if you continue to refuse to admit the possibility that a bit of relaxation and physical pampering - of the platonic kind," he clarified, "might do you just as much good, regardless of the image."

He shrugged. "So, it's either a smug look, or a gracious nod. Either comes complimentary with arrangements to relax and see you properly turned out."

Jono wasn't sulking, but lord, he was tempted. He might've, even, if he thought for a moment that it would do him any good.

//It's less about the image of it,// he admitted, after a moment. //I just never much saw the point. A manicure isn't going to last long on a guitarist, a massage would involve scaring the shite out of any masseuse that asks me to take my wrappings off, and so on. Just seemed like more trouble than it was worth.//

Hannibal thought about that for a moment, then nodded. "Perhaps we can forego the manicure, then. But there are enough people here from enough different places, I'm certain we can find someplace for a massage."

He gestured at the crystal on the counter. "Rather a pity we can't harness enough of yesterday's mood from these to make people behave civilly. I know some very good spas, but my world probably isn't the best place."

//Your world would likely involve a lot of being screamed at, yes. There is a spa on the island,// Jono replied a little defeated. //They might not be familiar with me, personally, but they certainly wouln't find me all that odd. And if not there... somewhere, I'm sure.//

He was mostly resigned to this. Not thrilled about it, but resigned to it.

"You needn't sound so enthusiastic," Hannibal told him dryly. "The spa here will suffice if we can't find another, but I believe you might find it more relaxing if any other potential guests might not be students or coworkers."

//Coworkers wouldn't be so bad,// Jono offered. //I can name at least one that's already seen far more than what a massage would uncover.//

And there, he was raising his eyebrows a little.

//... Students would be awkward.//

"At least one?" Hannibal questioned, chuckling. "Clearly I miss the best gossip. Other coworkers, then. And students. What about Glacia?" he suggested. "I imagine if they have a similar sort of place, Karla will know of one."

//Glacians... probably wouldn't be too concerned about the fire,// Jono admitted, still a little grudgingly. //They'd be more interested in whatever gossip they can dig up about me, I imagine. Still...//

He... really had no argument beyond that. And he did need fancy clothing that he could wear at Court functions. He was still a little bad, for that.

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