Hannibal's house, Saturday

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal was learning that while Jono as a snake might have more of an excuse to burrow under the covers, Jono as a human was no more eager to get out of bed when he was warm and comfortable. And bribing him with food didn't work quite as well this way.

Beethoven, however, had different priorities, and Hannibal himself needed to eat as well, so he gave up, left Jono in bed curled up with his tablet, and went down to cook. He hadn't yet decided if he'd be nice and bring a tray up, or if he'd make Jono stretch himself if he wanted to share.


[OOC: Expecting the one who's already in the house, but open for whatever!]

Comments

[furnaceface]

//I still feel like there are less extreme ways of going about that,// Jono muttered, making his way for the stairs. //I'm not...//

He stopped himself short, if only because he knew damn well that finishing that sentence with 'worth this' was probably just likely to have Hannibal dig in even harder to prove a point or something.

//... thrilled. About this.//

A lame finish, but also true enough.

[sharp_as_knives]

//I had noticed,// Hannibal answered. And had a very good idea of why that was. //Less extreme, perhaps, but none so enlightening. Does it help to know that I could wish to reverse it if I wanted?// he asked.

[furnaceface]

//Not as much as perhaps it should,// Jono confessed, hiking his shoulders up a little. //Wouldn't know how to begin putting words to what's bothering me around it.//

At least, not without that 'not worth it' part.

[sharp_as_knives]

//Don't, then,// Hannibal advised. //Show me.// They were both telepathic now, after all.

[furnaceface]

And really, it only needed one of them to show the other, or to take it however they pleased. That wasn't stopping Jono from bunching up at the shoulder a little bit more.

//S'just a jumble of twisting feelings,// he replied as dismissively as he could. //They wouldn't do anybody any good.//

And they were his, dammit. His messiness to cling to.

[sharp_as_knives]

//It's likely that includes you,// Hannibal said, rubbing Jono's back.

[furnaceface]

//Generally is, yes,// Jono agreed with a shrug of his shoulders. //Still, I just... It's...//

He wrinkled his nose a little.

//I share badly.//

Clearly.

[sharp_as_knives]

//So I've noticed,// Hannibal said. He led them into the bedroom and sat. //But I remain hopeful.//

[furnaceface]

//That I'll be more forthcoming about what's bothering me right now?// Jono was going to at least try not to look too sulky as he made his way to his jacket to pull his spare bandages from his pocket. //I suppose dreaming big doesn't hurt too much...//

That was super unhelpful, Jono. He did relent on his way back to Hannibal, at least.

//I'd feel... more comfortable trying to articulate than I would just opening a floodgate of feelings with no real context behind them. And as much as you could, I really don't plan on letting you poke around in my head.//

[sharp_as_knives]

//As you like,// Hannibal agreed, reaching out to run a hand through Jono's hair. //Maybe now would be a good time to work on those feelings. And on other things. However liberally my wish was interpreted, it is an opportunity not to be wasted.//

[furnaceface]

//Other things?// Jono's tone was questioning, even if his eyes were closed as he leaned his face into Hannibal's hand. So help him, it was going to be difficult to wind the man's bandages while he had his eyes closed. But that was hardly going to stop him from appreciating the contact. //Might have a better chance at sorting through 'other things' than feelings, really. I've always been shite at those.//

[sharp_as_knives]

//Other things also involving feelings to some extent, I'm afraid,// Hannibal answered, a bit of amusement threaded through his words. //But I think you can manage.//

He tugged Jono a little closer, curious about what it would feel like to contact him flame to flame.

[furnaceface]

//Ugh, I hate feelings,// Jono mumbled, leaning along with the tug. The barest bones of that curiosity reached him as well, and his eyes flickered open to regard Hannibal quietly. //... Did you want to stay unwrapped for a while longer?//

[sharp_as_knives]

//Only if you're willing to do the same,// Hannibal answered. //Aren't you curious?//

[furnaceface]

Jono was quiet for a full ten seconds before he nodded, just the slightest bit.

//I would be lying if I said I wasn't,// he admitted, setting his spare roll of wrappings to the side, and then reaching up to start pulling his own out of the way. //I can't... I mean, it's always oddly... intimate... when you touch the fire. Just with your hand. With... with more psionic flame, though...?//

Those were all certainly words there, Jon.

[sharp_as_knives]

They were definitely words, yes. Hannibal sent him a bit of his own curiosity and amused affection. He reached out with one hand to help Jono, and tugged the other toward his own flame.

[furnaceface]

Jono didn't really gasp, obviously, when Hannibal pulled him closer. Of course, he hardly needed to. If Hannibal's fingers in the fire had been oddly intimate before, having the physical manifestation of their respective psionic entities twisting together like two candle flames combining was altogether indescribable. There was a split moment where Jonothon was fairly certain he could tell where his mind ended and Hannibal's began, and then a moment still where everything was melting walls and crumbling sandcastles, and his arms wrapped around Hannibal in a desperate bid to keep him close push him away closer too much he had no idea, but it wasn't bad at all.

//Warm.//

For somebody who was so used to feeling so cold, 'warm' was possibly not the most accurate word for this, but it was the closest he'd felt in a while.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal's wish might have given him the knowledge and level of control Jono had, but it couldn't prepare him for something Jono himself hadn't known about. It was overwhelming; warm, yes, but a bit like drowning. Hannibal was contained by habit and necessity, and the thought of being known was both intoxicating and frightening. He'd tried with Will, albeit in a much less immediate way, and still smarted from the memory.

He did his best to keep up some walls - for his own protection and for Jono's, and if he projected the second half of that a bit more, he could hardly be blamed, could he? - while being as free with surface thoughts and sensations as he could.

[furnaceface]

The sensations were going to likely run rampant between the two of them. Jono was clutching at Hannibal's back, and he could feel his own fingers against his skin as a result. He was acutely aware of the drowning, feeling that to no small degree himself, and sharing as much just as openly as Hannibal was sharing whatever was living on the surface.

For what it was worth, he was hauling his own walls back up, and hauling them up hard. His own surface thoughts were still torn somewhere between 'moremoremoremore' and 'toomuchtoomuchtoomuch,' but at least he had the presence of mind to pull up blockades that would keep the worst of the places his mind could go from drifting to the fore.

He wasn't completely certain when he'd moved to nuzzle his face into the side of Hannibal's neck, where there was still flesh to nuzzle into, but he was at least vaguely amused when he realized that he'd done so at all. 'Moremoremoremore' seemed to be winning the battle, at least physically.

[sharp_as_knives]

The sensations were a lovely distraction, yes. Hannibal would have groaned if he could have; instead he sent the sound to Jono, letting it reverberate through their twined flames. He held Jono tight, the physical focus helping ground him as he set his own walls, seeing just enough of what Jono was doing to follow his lead.

There were places his mind went that Jono didn't need to go, either.

There were others that were less fraught, and remembering how Jono had pulled him in months ago, he centered himself in a lovely anteroom of his mind palace and tugged in invitation.

[furnaceface]

Oh, there was a good idea. It was exactly the sort of good idea that had Jono letting go and allowing himself to be tugged along, stumbling mentally into that anteroom. Outside their heads, their flames were still twining together, Jono's hands were still clutching at Hannibal's back, and if he could get any closer he was probably going to try.

"This part isn't bad," he murmured, there in their minds' eyes.

High praise, really. No matter what words he chose to say, his approval was quite apparent, twisting in the flames.

[sharp_as_knives]

"No," Hannibal answered. He smiled at Jono and relaxed a bit, looking around at the room he'd brought them to. "I'm certainly getting a better understanding of your experience."

[furnaceface]

"Well, this part is all a little new," Jono pointed out, looking around the room as well. "I've connected with other people telepathically before, of course, but not... I mean, never quite like this. Nobody else really wears their selves out in the open quite like that."

Well. That wasn't entirely true. There were other people out there with mutations similar or even identical to his own. He'd known of one other, and had met another still, but the first was long gone and the second had been trying to kill him, so...

[sharp_as_knives]

"A new experience for us both, then." Hannibal ran a finger along one of the sculptures, letting it bring up the memory of his uncle, painting. "I never thought to have anybody else in this place."

[furnaceface]

"No?" Jono regarded the sculpture, and the memory, with a sort of quiet reverence. "It's from a memory, then? Not something you built yourself?"

He was curious, mostly. The room itself was intriguing, and the possibility that it came from something in Hannibal's past doubly so. But he didn't dare reach out to touch anything, not until he was given permission to do so. He respected the person who had extended the invitation to be here far too much to presume.