Icehotel, Christmas morning

[sharp_as_knives]

Christmas hadn't dawned yet; dawn wouldn't come until late morning. Meanwhile, Hannibal had manged to finagle some nice, hot coffee from the restaurant and was enjoying it from a thermos as he contemplated the day before them.



[OOC: For the partner! Open for calls or whatnot.]

Comments

[furnaceface]

And Jono... Jono was doing that thing where he was contemplating getting out of bed, because there were warm clothes waiting for him if he did so, but that involved actual effort. Not that he was asleep. When was he ever asleep? But he was tucked away in neatly under a reindeer hide and the prospect of moving just yet was... bleh.

//I smell coffee.//

Okay, so maybe he was willing to function if he got to smell more of the same. Also, good morning, Hannibal.

[sharp_as_knives]

"I taste coffee," Hannibal answered. "So can you if you like." He slid back into bed and shucked his jacket in favor of Jono's warmth. "We'll have to get up for breakfast, though." His powers of persuasion could only manage so much in a place that didn't technically have room service.

[furnaceface]

//I suppose I can handle getting out of bed for breakfast,// Jono murmured as he snuggled in close. He wasn't great at eating, maybe, but he was definitely excellent for keeping warm. //Ah... it's Christmas, too, isn't it?//

That last bit was said a touch tentatively. He'd made up his mind to not be a humbug this year. He had no idea how he was going to actually fare at it.

[sharp_as_knives]

"It is," Hannibal answered. He sipped from the thermos and savored the coffee. "There will be a concert in town later. And perhaps more dancing. So long as you don't let on how we won the fire-making contest," he teased.

It was unlikely anybody here would lynch them for cheating.

[furnaceface]

//My lips are sealed,// Jono replied, all wide-eyed innocence. Not that he couldn't have won the contest without cheating. A winter in the Glacian mountains had seen to that. But sometimes you just had to know if you could... //I'm up for the concert if you are. Seems like a not too terrible way to spend the day, really.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"I'm always willing to listen to music. So." He closed and capped the thermos. "Breakfast, the concert - nothing else today?"

[furnaceface]

//Breakfast, the concert...// Jono shrugged his shoulders a little. //I haven't really got much in the way of holiday traditions, myself. Unless there was something you wanted to do?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"There are a few traditions we generally hold to," Hannibal answered.

Like gifts, Jono.

[furnaceface]

... Was it bad that Jono was kind of hoping that Hannibal had forgotten about the gifts part?

//I suppose there are,// he allowed, nodding a little. //I, ah, don't suppose you wanted to get a start on those, then?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Only if you want to." Hannibal shrugged. "We could always wait."

[furnaceface]

Did Jono look half as awkward as he felt? He probably did. He had gotten Hannibal a gift, of course. He'd even wrapped it up nicely, because he had no idea what he hell else to do with it.

He just also happened to feel a bit silly about the whole thing, that was all.

//No, now's fine,// he decided. Maybe it was best to just pull off the band-aid. //I've got my gift for you in my bag, tucked under my shirts.//

It was, you know, heavy-ish.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal nodded and slid out of bed to get it, then stopped by his own bag to get a very nice, high-quality envelope.

"Heavy for its size," he noted as he came back to bed.

[furnaceface]

//A pound,// Jono agreed. There was an awkward pause as he wore that look on his face that said that he'd be blushing awkwardly if he could. //And some. Yes.//

Hooboy, Jonothon. What had you done.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal raised an eyebrow as he sat, turning the package over in his hands. "Now you've piqued my curiosity." He found the edges of the paper and carefully opened it.

[furnaceface]

Jono was going to just sit there and... kind of... look...

... Look like he was burying his face in his hand the moment the box was opened enough for Hannibal to see the contents. Because honestly. Honestly.

Jono never claimed to be good at Christmas.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal eyed Jono's reaction curiously before turning back to the box. Inside were a smaller box and a large silver package that proved to be a vacuum bag of...he read the label and his eyebrow went up. "Saffron?" And the very best variety.

[furnaceface]

Jono was just going to nod. He was going to nod his head with his face still buried in that palm of his.

//A pound of saffron.//

Why did anybody need a pound of saffron? Was Jono silently encouraging Hannibal to become an exotic spice hustler? Who knew?

[sharp_as_knives]

"I will be hard-pressed to find enough to cook with this while it remains fresh enough," Hannibal said. "Though it does have other uses..." He paused and eyed Jono. "Do you know how saffron is made?"

[furnaceface]

//S'flowers, innit?// Jono wasn't coming out from behind that hand any time soon. //It comes out of flowers?//

At least he knew that much! He also knew the price tag.

He... wasn't going to share what the price was.

[sharp_as_knives]

He needn't worry about that; Hannibal knew very well what the price was.

"It is." Hannibal ran his hand over the bag. "In this package is the product of perhaps seventy-five thousand flowers. Quite a sizable bouquet."

[furnaceface]

//Oh my god I've driven saffron to extinction,// Jono muttered. If not for that pesky telepathy, it would have at least come out somewhat muffled. //That was me. If you hear about a saffron shortage worldwide, I did that.//

Jonothon Starsmore: Crocus Killer.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal laughed. "It's a small portion of yearly production." He tugged Jono's hand down. "But a thoughtful and extravagant gift. Nobody's ever bought me so many flowers before."

[furnaceface]

Jono was still wearing that deer-in-headlights look of a man who was terrible at both the holidays and the internet, who had come across an online order form and who had maybe panicked. Just a little.

//... Not bad, then?//

No, Jono. Not bad. Just absurd.

[sharp_as_knives]

That summed it up rather nicely, yes.

"Not bad," Hannibal reassured him. "A much easier way to carry so many flowers home with me. And finding use for it all will be a challenge. You know I do adore a challenge."

[furnaceface]

//I do know that,// Jono hedged, sounding somewhat relieved. //And the other part of your gift should at least be somewhat more straightforward.//

If the next gift was somehow more difficult to figure out how to use than a vacuum-sealed pound of coupé grade saffron, Jono would be hugely surprised.