Hannibal's house, Sunday

[sharp_as_knives]

It was fortunate, really, that neither Jono nor Hannibal tended to sleep much; it left more time for other things.

Like breakfast, of course! And then a tour of the house, as Hannibal had promised. They'd meant for it to be last night, but due to a number of things...well, it meant they had more time now, didn't it?

And Hannibal was even being nice, starting out with coffee that he brought upstairs to drink in bed.


[OOC: For the one mentioned, details NFB, and looking to probably go NSFW!]

Comments

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal just chuckled and retrieved the ball of leather. It had worked wonderfully last time, why not again? He took his time winding it around Jono's arms and the legs of the chaise, then back to fasten his legs as well.

"We're fortunate you keep yourself so well wrapped."

[furnaceface]

//I have to, if I want to keep all of the difficult bits in.// He could've maybe phrased that better, there. A touch, anyway. Jono didn't seem to care too much either way. //Though I'd be lying if I said that this wasn't incentive, these days.//

Handcuffs were also nice, but they could be so much more thorough with his wrappings, really.

[sharp_as_knives]

They could. And Hannibal didn't exactly keep handcuffs around.

"It's good to know they have multiple uses," Hannibal answered, smiling. He ran his hands over his canvas, admiring it for a moment longer, then patted Jono's ass and went to get his art supplies.

[furnaceface]

And Jono was trying to look back over his shoulder, to watch Hannibal so long as he was within his line of vision. If he was smirking faintly, if that showed up right around the corners of his eyes, well...

Look, he didn't often get literal asspats.

//I like to wear functional things,// he shared. //Some things might just happen to be slightly more functional than others.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"You might be surprised how useful a pair of cufflinks can be," Hannibal said. He moved the little table by the chaise into place and put a hotplate on it, then gave it some time to warm as he gathered the rest. Next on the table was a nice assortment of paintbrushes.

[furnaceface]

//Cufflinks?//

Jono had worn cufflinks maybe three times in his entire life. He probably would be surprised at how useful they could be.

//Sounds like there's some manner of story behind that. Or at least some decent amount of thought put into that. What're you heating, there?//

The paintbrushes made sense enough, considering the art angle they were going for, here. But Jono couldn't quite figure out what it was that was going onto the hotplate, really.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal brought out a number of small metal pots and placed them on the heat, checking the temperature. "Are you familiar with encaustic painting?"

[furnaceface]

//Only really the concept of it,// Jono noted, and then tilted his head as best as he was able from this angle. //It's... wax, isn't it?//

Hot wax. Please pardon Jonothon for that impression of a little thrill that crackled in the air between them. He was usually better about keeping those to himself, at least.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Heated wax," Hannibal mirrored those thoughts. "In order for art to be properly encaustic, it must involve heat. The word itself refers to the burning in of the wax on its surface." He tested a few of the colors to see how they were coming along.

[furnaceface]

//Waxplay,// Jono mused, nodding faintly. //Heatplay. You know, I've always sort of wondered, but this is something I've never actually done...?//

Which was maybe for the best, considering he'd never really had a partner who quite understood BDSM in general or how the dom/sub dynamic was meant to work. It could've been a disaster otherwise.

//I'm looking forward to it. Glad you didn't write it off as redundant simply because of what looks like fire.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Well, Hannibal had never really been a part of that lifestyle, but he was very good at research. And being a doctor didn't hurt, either. Well, didn't hurt him.

"You seemed interested when I mentioned it," Hannibal said as he placed several metal implements with the wax pots, "and I would hate to disappoint."

[furnaceface]

//I think you'd have to be actively trying to disappoint in order to manage that,// Jono replied, watching Hannibal prepare the... he couldn't quite make out what they were from where he was laying, but it had his curiosity piqued. //I appreciate that you decided to take a stab at it, though.//

Jono. Wording.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smirked at the wording, then sat on the edge of the chaise by Jono's hip. "If I can't convince you you're a work of art on your own, I will just have to make you one."

[furnaceface]

//I suppose that's one way to go about it,// Jono agreed, looking back and up at Hannibal as best as he was able for another moment more, and then settling in and resting the side of his face on the blanket. //And what are you going to paint, might I ask?//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal ran his hand over Jono's back, getting a feel for it. 'I haven't entirely decided. I am open to suggestions."

[furnaceface]

//Suggestions, hm?// Jono would've pursed his lips, if he had lips to purse. As it stood, he simply tapped his fingers thoughtfully against the chaise. //Mine are all fairly predictable, I'm certain. Music?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Music is always a worthwhile subject." Hannibal scraped his fingernails lightly over Jono's back and checked the wax again. "Almost ready."

[furnaceface]

And that was a slight arch as Jono attempted to move his back a little more firmly into Hannibal's touch. Of course there was only so far he could go, being tied down as he was, but moving toward somebody's hand wasn't something he did entirely consciously anyway.

//Looking forward to this,// he admitted. //To... to feeling it. To you making more art.//

He carried around Hannibal's last masterpiece already, though he couldn't exactly appreciate it now the way he could when Hannibal had created it. Difficult to see, when the scars were etched along his back and shoulders. But he remembered that evening quite fondly all the same.

[sharp_as_knives]

"As am I." Hannibal checked the wax again; the blue was melted enough to begin. He picked up a brush about an inch wide and dipped it in. Then, smiling, drew a swirl just below one shoulder blade.

[furnaceface]

There was heat. Heat and the soft touch of the brush against his back, the bite of the hot wax gliding smoothly against his skin so delicately that he had to fight back the urge to shiver.

//Ah...// There was a soft tingle of approval, a burst of warmth that faintly echoed the feeling of heated paint against his skin. And then, like the wax, as soon as the feeling was there, it was gone, cooled down into something like bated breath, quiet anticipation. //I'm going to like this.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"I sincerely hope so." It wasn't as immediate and visceral as a scalpel, but it had its own beauty, and so much potential.

He gathered more wax on the brush and drizzled it across from the first swirl to the other shoulder, following a second later with the edge of the brush.

[furnaceface]

It wasn't what Jono would usually ask for, he decided, closing his eyes and just soaking in the sensation of hot wax and the smooth strokes of the brush shortly after, but it was more than he expected all the same, oddly intimate, a bit jarring as the wax hit his skin, hot enough to sting for a while even after the heat faded. And terribly distracting, in that sort of way that pulled him down under and made him push all thoughts of everything else clear out of his mind.

There was Hannibal, and there was heat, and there were restraints around his wrists and ankles and he wanted more. He wanted Hannibal to paint him into a tapestry, wanted him go cover him in wax and then rip it all free and start over.

He tried very hard to not roll his shoulder a little as the wax hardened. It felt odd against his back. Not unpleasant. Just... odd.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal picked up a smaller brush and got plenty of wax on it, then flicked it quickly, sending a hot spatter of droplets over Jono's back. Then before they could harden, he reached out and flattened each, spreading it out with his fingers.

[furnaceface]

Jono actually did jump a little at the splatter across his back, muscles twitching a little, shoulders tensing. Hannibal's hand helped him recover from that one somewhat, fingers moving in the wax a soothing presence against his skin. He was looking over his shoulder again a moment later, giving Hannibal a wry, if amused, look.

//That one's an interesting one.//

Sudden, and everywhere, like little needles of heat against his skin. He was certainly not complaining, though.

[sharp_as_knives]

"I would hate to bore you," Hannibal said in return. He rubbed the wax from his fingers and the brush and reached for the green next. Some of the other colors needed more time, but that just meant they'd be hotter once they were ready.