sharp_as_knives | Hannibal's house, Saturday morning

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Current Location: 22 Phoenix Place

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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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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?"

"Please," Jono replied, smiling as he accepted the silverware and napkins to carry into the dining room. "Might as well take advantage of this and try as much as I can, while I can, hm?"

Except for possibly the mystery meats, yes.

They weren't a mystery! Merely unlabeled. Hannibal would be happy to tell Jono what they were if he asked.

"Of course." Hannibal smiled back and brought the dishes in to set on the table - himself at the end, and Jono next to him - and went back for the coffee and (fresh-squeezed, organic) orange juice. "It would be a shame not to experience as much as possible."

"Especially when, given this island, I'll only have a few days to really take advantage of this," Jono agreed, taking a seat. "Oh, this looks fantastic."

Seriously, he'd cope with being temporarily female for more of Hannibal's fry-ups.

And maybe one day he wouldn't have to. "Thank you." Hannibal set Jono's coffee and juice in front of him and sat with his own. "What else would you like to do this weekend? Apart from in bed."

"Apart from bed? And flying, of course... eating... singing..." Jono pursed his lips a little as he contemplated his orange juice. "I'm going to spend a ridiculous amount of time flossing."

Be forewarned, Hannibal.

"... I've missed it. There is a long list of ridiculous things that I miss, please try not to look at me too oddly when I lose my mind over doing any of them."

Hannibal chuckled, but shook his head. "I would never do that. Your enthusiasm is perfectly understandable. I may, however, be amused by it."

"You can take a front-row seat to laugh while I make inappropriate noises at the mouthwash, then," Jono promised, saluting Hannibal with his orange juice. "Dirty talking all of that minty freshness. Reminding myself not to come back for seconds on the orange juice until I'm certain the mint flavour is gone..."

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