Hannibal's house, Saturday afternoon

[sharp_as_knives]

It was a bit cloudy and humid today, so Hannibal had decided to stay inside for this. And though he himself had no doubts, in deference to Jono's worries, he'd chosen his office as the most expendable open space in the house.

He stretched out a padded blanket on the floor and set a towel and the small bottle of massage oil next to it.

Then, as usual, it was time to round up Jono.


[OOC: For the one mentioned!]

Comments

[furnaceface]

Jono pondered that for a moment, and then nodded again, expanding his senses to reach out for Hannibal's own sense of touch, his hand twitching faintly in response to the sudden sensation of being in two places at once, resting at his side and toying over his wreck of a chest and the fire that it framed. And then, a step further, putting his own hand out of mind entirely, so that his focus was whittled down to his chest and that hand and there wasn't much distinction left between who had what.

It was soothing, more than it had been before, and Jono vaguely realized that Hannibal's calm was bleeding along the link between them. He considered that for a moment, and then let it be. It certainly couldn't hurt, after all.

//Easily enough,// he murmured. //I... like that. You feel differently...//

Fingers calloused by years of war and guitar weren't necessarily as sensitive as Hannibal's own. Funny, that.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Different perspectives on the same thing." And a bit of additional calm, yes. "Now, see if you can get the fire to feel the same. No pressure; don't worry about forcing it." He rubbed light circles over one spot, between flame and skin. "Just make it happen."

[furnaceface]

It was fascinating, feeling the difference between his own skin and his flame from somebody else's perspective. There was the warm, oddly pleasant twist of flames under his - Hannibal's - fingertips, and the more solid sensation of flesh.

It was odd; when Jonothon ran his own fingers over his skin, all he really noticed were the scars.

//Just make it happen, just like that,// he mused, taking note of the way his skin felt to Hannibal's hand, rather than his own. Even the flame wasn't unpleasant this way, though the goal was to wind up with a little less of that than before.

Just make it happen. Should be easy enough. He'd done it unconsciously, before. Some part of him realized that there was something important missing, and it didn't do much, really. Just put it back. That was all this was. That part wasn't the same as the other. It was missing. Just... put it back.

The fire under Hannibal's fingertips seemed at least a little more solid. Not quite something tangible, not yet, but it offered a little resistance. That was a start.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal felt that, and pressed just a little, offering the flames the same treatment as the skin next to them. He didn't speak to distract Jono, but sent more calm approval his direction.

[furnaceface]

Jono let his mind fold around that approval. See, there, good job? That thing he was doing, he was welcome to do it some more, to give more resistance to their hand - Hannibal's hand. Hannibal's. It was close, wasn't it? It wasn't a perfect match, but it was offering the same resistance now, even if it was still only fire.

No, not only fire. Him. It was himself, under a hand that wasn't his at all, and the line was blurring a little in Jonothon's mind, but he was fine with that, at least for now.

The resistance was the same. The warmth wasn't. The texture wasn't. It wasn't quite right, just yet. Wasn't that same missing piece yet. Jono turned his attention to the texture, next. It was a little like sculpting, wasn't it?

[sharp_as_knives]

It was very like sculpting, yes. Shape and texture, feeling, appearance. There was an artistry to it. Like music or painting; making everything just as you wanted it to be.

[furnaceface]

It was probably a bit much to ask to want to just be whole again on the third attempt at doing this, wasn't it?

But that tiny bit... Maybe that was doable. It felt almost as though it could be, didn't it? It had form, if not function. Without a glance, it was very much an almost maybe. A possibility, more than a suggestion. Even that was forward progress.

[sharp_as_knives]

Form was good. Function was better. If it happened, it would happen. It could happen, after all. It scarcely needed to be forced. It was there already, like the form of a statue in marble - it simply needed to be coaxed out.

[furnaceface]

It was skin, Jono reminded himself. This and that, fire and flesh, were all just him. And there was practically no difference between one and the other, at the end of the day. One could become flesh, one could become flame, each could steal ground from the other back and forth the way they'd both been doing since he was a stupid kid.

That's what this was, at the end of the day. It was give and take. It was back and forth. One just had to be more real than the other.

Skin under Hannibal's fingertips. There, and now, and real. Even Jono could tell that it was there, could feel the brush of somebody else's hand over it as though it was the very same as the rest. He opened his eyes wide - was that? - and then it was gone.

And then he was projecting a frustrated sort of groan, and closing his eyes again. Dammit.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Almost," Hannibal said. "You had it for a moment, but success, it would seem, is as distracting as anxiety." He stroked his free hand down Jono's cheek. "That was a much larger patch, though, and with much less exhaustion."

[furnaceface]

//Much less,// Jono agreed, though he was sort of rolling over a bit so that he could curl up closer to Hannibal. //Not none, though. And not letting myself be irritated at myself for letting it slip is taking some effort. Last time, we kept the progress.//

It felt like running in place, this time. A step forward, and then immediately back again. They'd had it.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Last time, you weren't awake enough to be irritated at yourself." Hannibal wrapped his arm around Jono and kissed his face. "I believe we made more progress this time than last. We established that you can heal larger areas without undue stress or exhaustion, we discovered a method that works." He smiled. "Next time, you'll just need to not lose concentration so soon."

[furnaceface]

//It's been... over a year now, almost a year and a half, since I felt anybody's hand there,// Jonothon noted, nodding faintly as he leaned up closer against Hannibal. //I suppose I can forgive myself just this once for getting distracted. Now I know what'll happen if I do.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal nodded back. "It won't be quite so startling next time." He massaged the back of Jono's neck, since it was there. "Do you want to try again now, or give yourself some time?"

[furnaceface]

//Gonna need a moment to process, I think,// Jono decided after a short pause. //There was this whole... strange... holistic... existential... thing going on there for a moment before it worked.//

He wrinkled his nose a bit.

//Anyway, I'm still conscious, but that doesn't mean it wasn't tiring. It's just a less immediate sort of tired.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"If you would rather have that nap, I'm sure the cats would be willing to help," Hannibal said. "Holistic is good, though; it's very much what we're trying for, after all."

[furnaceface]

//Holistic is good,// Jono agreed, taking a moment to nuzzle his face into Hannibal's cheek before grudgingly shifting his weight to climb to his feet again. At least he could stand this time, though it was a tired, heavy sort of standing that betrayed a fatigue that ran clear to the bone. //Had to remind myself whose hand was whose a few times, though.//

At least it wasn't the first time he'd slipped into something like that before, either.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal closed the oil and wiped his hands before he stood. "Fortunately I don't mind lending you one. Or two."

[furnaceface]

//Yours seem to work better for this than mine,// Jono observed. //You're less likely to get distracted and wander off tracing burn scars instead, I suppose.//

Some things, Jono never really had managed to let go of. He was more or less at peace with what he was, these days. And he'd accepted the things he could and couldn't do because of it. But that didn't mean he liked the state of affairs that his body had been left in as a result.

[sharp_as_knives]

"It's easier for me to be less distracted because I have less at stake," Hannibal pointed out. For him, it was a matter of pride and curiosity; for Jono, it was his body.

"You could probably heal the burn scars as well," he added, "but why should you want to? Our scars remind us of our past." He'd rolled up his sleeves to keep them from the oil, and now he turned over one arm to show his own. "Good and bad, we all have them."

[furnaceface]

There was a brief moment, when Hannibal showed Jono the scar along his wrist, that caught him off-guard. Which was ridiculous, really. Jono was well aware those scars were there, after all. He even keenly remembered noticing the bandages for the first time. But this time, instead of concern, it filled him with a brief surge of fierce protectiveness, which he satiated somewhat by stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Hannibal.

There. Protective fireball. Grr.

//I suppose there is that,// he allowed. //No reason I should want to besides vanity, I suppose. Even if these aren't technically the same scars I got when my powers first manifested. Or even when they last did, come to that. They're definitely a reminder of something.//

Of that last time he'd had another life stuffed into his head, mostly.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal was a bit bemused by the sudden hug, but not against it. He wrapped his arms around Jono in turn, letting his flames dance around them both.

"Would you prefer not to have the reminder?" he asked curiously.

[furnaceface]

//It's less that I'd rather not have it, and more that there's already plenty of reminder there,// Jono replied, shrugging. //I still slip and call baseline humans 'preaks' from time to time. Wake up occasionally in a panic because I'm not camped down behind the force walls that kept them out. Hell, just having this body is a reminder. Scars don't tend to carry much sentimentality when you've been rid of them and gotten them back over and over again as many times as I have, I suppose.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"In that case, maybe we can work on them as well." Hannibal chuckled and kissed Jono's ear. "Once you've finished with the rest."

[furnaceface]

//Once I've finished with the rest,// Jono agreed, nuzzling his cheek against Hannibal's for a moment more before stepping back a little. //Besides, knowing my luck, I'll have them back again within a week of being rid of the bloody things.//

... Probably.