sharp_as_knives | Hannibal's house, Saturday morning

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Hannibal's house, Saturday morning

Hannibal woke and stretched, rolled over, and...oh. It was one of those weekends, was it? He glanced at Jono, amused to see that it appeared to have hit him as well this time - the face above his bandages was decidedly female.

Well, this could be interesting. But first, there were other priorities. He slipped out of bed, cinched his pajamas tighter over his slimmer waist, took a moment to find a properly sized blouse, and headed downstairs to make coffee and breakfast.

Definitely in that order.

[OOC: For the suddenly-not-a-guy!]

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Hannibal chuckled. "Tell me that the next time sharks fall from the sky." He brought Jono's cup over to him, along with the cream and sugar. "You can start with black and add a bit as necessary," he suggested.

He waved toward the half-cut-up sausage and vegetables on the sideboard. "I was going to make a frittata. But there's no reason it can't be a fry-up if you'd rather."

"Sharks, I can handle," Jono replied, shrugging and leaning forward a little to survey the food-in-progress. "And I'm sure you didn't complain all that much about the excess of meat that was left behind, either."

He licked his lips, and then nodded a little.

"And if you wouldn't mind... that sounds lovely."

"Shark fin soup was a rare treat," Hannibal acknowledged. And had to kiss those lips again. "And I don't mind at all. I'm afraid I have no beans cooked, though. Maybe tomorrow." Still, there were mushrooms and tomatoes, potatoes he could fry, sausages, and eggs. And he did have black pudding and bacon, of course. He could probably even find some that was pork.

The bread would be closer to focaccia, and none of it would be too greasy, but still. A fry-up.

Jono would very, very much appreciate the sausages being pork. And more of those kisses, actually. He could see this being a wonderful weekend, whatever shape he happened to be in.

"Maybe tomorrow," he agreed. "Today..."

Oh, that was a devilish little grin, just barely visible behind his coffee mug.

And that was an arch look in turn as Hannibal switched recipes. "Today?" He didn't think Jono was talking about food. Or at least, not only about food.

Which didn't mean he wasn't going to watch avidly as Jono took his first real, in-his-own-body (sort of) sip of Hannibal's very good coffee.

"Today, I plan on going back to bed," Jono replied, a playful note in his otherwise casual tone. "You're welcome to join me."

And then he took a sip of that coffee.

The moan of appreciation he gave was actually somewhat indicative of the sounds he was hoping to be making after breakfast and for much of the rest of the day.

Oh, Hannibal would very much look forward to helping with those moans. Using both food and...other things.

Possibly both, now he thought about it. They had plenty of spare sheets.

"I may have to do that." He saluted Jono with his knife before starting the pan heating. "This could be interesting."

The coffee was hot, and bitter, and wonderful. Especially wonderful. Jono closed his eyes and helped himself to another sip. It was possibly even a little too bitter, given how long it had been since he'd tasted it without help from somebody who was still lucky enough to have a mouth, but it seemed like a bloody sin to put sugar in, so he let himself appreciate the bite of it for what it was.

"If it isn't interesting, we'll be doing something terribly wrong," he observed, licking his lips. "I don't think we're in much danger of that happening."

"I should hope not." Hannibal grinned at him. "We are, after all, both grown women. But I hope you know," he cautioned, "I also fully intend to treat you to a number of other things."

Food, mostly. Breathing, though that rather went without saying. Was it warm enough to swim? All the things Jono wouldn't normally allow himself. Maybe it would inspire him.

"Speak for yourself," Jono countered, smirking as he raised an eyebrow. //I'm a fully grown man. I've just taken a minor detour this morning, is all.//

Yes, he was using his psionic voice for that part. Because there was nothing feminine about that in the least.

"That said, I'm not averse to being spoiled from time to time, either."

"Show off," Hannibal teased. "And yes, I do realize that." It just didn't sound as catchy. "I did not, however, realize you weren't averse to being spoiled. I seem to recall a weekend in New York...?"

Admittedly, London had been a bit better. Maybe eventually Jono would completely relax on a vacation.

...probably not.

"Clearly you and I have very differing opinions as to what constitutes 'spoiling,'" Jono replied primly before taking another mouthful of coffee. And making more of those noises. He had no bloody clue how he hadn't blown both breasts and that lovely lower lip of his off yet this morning, but he fully intended to appreciate that he hadn't while he still could. "Drop me off in a dark, dusty old record shop, and then you'll see pure bliss."

This was true.

"I've seen that already," Hannibal pointed out. He let the breakfast sit frying for a moment and leaned on the counter by Jono. "We could go to the beach, or find someplace for you to play and sing. We could even go out to dinner if my own food isn't enough."

He was teasing on that last one. Mostly.

"Your own food is more than enough," Jono countered, grinning for a moment. "The question is, am I going to give you a chance to do much more cooking?"

He was not factoring 'cooking' into the agenda this weekend, Hannibal. Sorry.

Hannibal's look this time was exasperated. "I'm not spending the entire weekend in bed. Aren't there other things you'd like to do as well?"

Swimming, Jono. Singing. Teaching obnoxious men who thought they were beautiful women what happened to the rude...okay, maybe that one was just him.

Jono set down his empty coffee mug, and gave Hannibal an impish grin.

"I could be convinced to find out what I sound like when I sing this way," he admitted. "Or..."

Look, he had a sonic collar that he hadn't been able to use in a year and a half. Longer, if you counted the damage to his lungs after his run-in with the witchblood smoke. He hadn't flown in far too long, and he fully intended to take some time to do just that while he still could.

"I'm going to have to take you flying."

Hannibal thought about it, then smirked. "Just so long as you remember one of us isn't indestructible."

That was definitely something he'd never done before!

"Oh, please," Jono replied, smirking right back and rolling his eyes. "I've been doing it for years and I haven't dropped somebody yet."

Unless they really had it coming to them, anyway.

"Really, I'm aiming to not have to punctuate this weekend with a trip to the emergency room."

"Or if we do, we should have a much better story." Hannibal stole another quick kiss, then went to check the breakfast. He added the bread and cracked the eggs into the pan. "How do you like them?"

"I..." Jono stared blankly at the pan for a moment. "... Like... Er."

He had no bloody clue.

"Lord, I haven't answered that bloody question in years. Surprise me?"

"Difficult when you're standing there," Hannibal pointed out. He got out plates while everything finished, and started arranging the garnish.

This was probably going to be the prettiest fry-up that Jono had ever eaten.

That wasn't even really a question at this point, was it?

"Should I close my eyes, then?"

If closing his eyes didn't end in something fun and surprising happening, once again, something was being done terribly wrong.

Hannibal gave him a look of amused reproof. "And deprive me of the audience?" He began carefully arranging everything on the plates, an artist at his art. "Shall we eat here at the counter, or in the dining room?" Bed was not an option; Hannibal did actually want to eat a bit first.

"Dining room?" So help Jono, he hadn't sat in there in order to actually eat since...

Well, it certainly felt like 'since ever,' and he'd had another lifetime jammed into his head since, if he ever had eaten food in this house himself.

"The temptation will be smaller to just up and poke through the fridge from there after the plate's clean."

... Anyway, the fridge was probably not the best idea, was it? Jono never really went in there.

While Jono was certainly welcome to eat anything in the fridge - and it was all edible - none of it was labeled. So perhaps not the best idea for his sanity, no.

"The dining room it is." Hannibal handed Jono the silverware and napkins. "If you would. I'll come back for the coffee. Juice?"

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