Hannibal's house (not that Jono cares), Saturday evening

[sharp_as_knives]

These weeks on the island did not, for the most part, affect Hannibal the same as everybody else; sex was an enjoyable pastime, but one he could largely forego in the face of other...enjoyments. Which didn't mean he hadn't been somewhat restless and wanting this week. He'd sharpened his knives, filled his pantry, and been very artistic in doing so. But even with a multiverse of rude people to choose from, it seemed wasteful to do too much of that.


[OOC: For the one mentioned, specifics NFB. Warnings for blood, sex, and...just...general Jono and Hannibalness.]

Comments

[furnaceface]

//Could if you wanted,// Jono murmured, though at this point it seemed like he was more likely to have a nap than he was to pay more attention to Hannibal's handiwork. //Not like I'm using it. Probably.//

Well, the stuff that was already outside of his body certainly wasn't doing him any good.

//That's nice too, though.//

Funny how this was basically the only situation where Jono would willingly just settle down and let somebody tend to his hurts without raising a fuss.

[sharp_as_knives]

"It would congeal before I got very far," Hannibal said. "Perhaps I'll look into it for later."

Jono was amusing like this, and Hannibal didn't mind at all. He cleaned slowly and carefully, changing gauze as he needed. He knew what he was doing, and nothing was too deep, but some spots were still a bit prone to oozing. Jono might not be using that blood, but it probably wasn't good to keep losing it, either.

[furnaceface]

//I'm an art supply with a time limit,// Jono murmured, vaguely amused at the notion, quietly watching Hannibal work. It was... nice. Nice, being tended to like this. An affirmation after their play that the bleeding and the stinging pain he was still feeling were because of a moment shared, because of trust between them. They didn't exist as a punishment of some sort, for him to deal with alone.

At that thought, Jono sent another little psionic wave of affection, of thanks to Hannibal for taking that extra effort tending to aftercare.

Never mind that it was basic courtesy. That didn't make him feel appreciated any less.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smiled and brought up Jono's hand to kiss it, sending back his own affection. "I'm certain we can think of something, if you like the idea."

He finished the cleaning and got out antiseptic cream, continuing his care. Really, it was only basic decency, and even if Hannibal often didn't have that, he had no desire for Jono to get infected. Even if the scars would be rather striking.

[furnaceface]

For a start, if any of this got infected, Jono would take some talking into before he decided that this would be a good idea again. Fun as it was in the moment and all, being a masochist in the bedroom wasn't exactly an effortless endeavor in the first place.

//I'm sure you've got paint somewhere,// he murmured, his tone still just a touch distracted, if only by the touch of Hannibal's hands with the cream on his cuts. //Could be a fun stand in until I'm ready to have another round of this again. Done it before and all...//

Though paint required significantly less trust.

[sharp_as_knives]

"True," Hannibal agreed. "But blood on canvas sounds quite interesting as well, don't you think?" He taped gauze over the few places that were deeper, then wiped his hands clean and settled back next to Jono, one hand playing in his hair and the other in his flames.

[furnaceface]

//Not denying that for an instant,// Jono replied, nuzzling in again. //Curious t'see what you'd do with it. Can't even pretend not t'be.//

For one, Hannibal had just been rather seamlessly sharing the same train of thought not more than a few minutes ago. It had probably been rather clear just how deep some of Jonothon's fascination for Hannibal's activities actually ran.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal had never really been in doubt about that, though it was good to have the confirmation. "Perhaps I'll look into it, then." He kissed Jono's nose. "Are you cold? The sauna's only a few steps away."

[furnaceface]

//Little bit,// Jono said, after taking a moment for consideration... and a bit of a wrinkle of his nose. Because nose-wrinkling was more or less mandatory when somebody kissed him there. //Sauna does sound nice about now.//

He hadn't expected the blankets he'd set out to end up quite so blood-sodden.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal grinned and stood, wrapping an arm around Jono to bring him along. "Right this way, then you can lie down again, but warmly."

[furnaceface]

Mnnnn, standing was a kind of delicious sort of reminder of what had just gone on all on its own, there. Even if Jono did mostly just want to curl up and be stupid at Hannibal for a while. He was leaning against him, anyway, mostly because he could, but nodding and following Hannibal's lead.

//Sounds like a plan,// he decided.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Would you prefer to be carried?" Hannibal asked, amused. It wouldn't be the first time, after all.

[furnaceface]

//....//

That was not an incoherent mutter from Jonothon that sounded vaguely like an affirmative, shut up.

It felt nice, okay?!

[sharp_as_knives]

Smiling, Hannibal swung Jono up into his arms. "We don't even have to camouflage you this time," he teased.

He opened the door carefully and stepped through. By the time he made it the three steps to the sauna, they'd gone from two to four, and he had to shoo the cats just far enough away not to trip him as he made his way in.

[furnaceface]

//I was a rather dashing vaguely human-shaped clothing bundle,// Jono decided, cuddling in. Because apparently he was a cuddly one, tonight. //Those two helping, are they?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"As much they ever do." Hannibal set Jono down and turned to close the door - the cats had already made their way in. The residual heat in the room already made it warmer than the rest of the house, but he turned on the heat to start it warming further.

Then turned back to remove Joni before she climbed on Jono's side, and put her up next to Beethoven on the other bench.

[furnaceface]

Jono gave a little psionic chuckle at that, smiling over at Hannibal while he made himself comfortable. Joni was welcome to pay a visit, but maybe not while he was still bleeding.

//Thank you,// he murmured, finally taking a moment to look down at himself, to survey Hannibal's handiwork, both his art and the cleanup he'd done afterwards. Of course Hannibal was good with some ointment and gauze. He was a doctor, after all. He was still impressed, all the same. //C'mere?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Of course." Hannibal lounged next to Jono and wrapped around him. He didn't have to ask how Jono was doing; he could feel that in the flames his fingers played through. He sent his own satisfaction the same way. "That was a lovely end to the week."

[furnaceface]

//I've got no complaints at all,// Jonothon replied, fondly. //Maybe next time, I'll set aside a room earlier in th'week...//

Which would be great, though he probably wouldn't do much moving for a good month afterwards if he did.

[sharp_as_knives]

"The anticipation adds to the intensity," Hannibal said. "Although I'd have no objection to you giving yourself fewer headaches throughout the week." He knew what those walls did to you, Jono.

[furnaceface]

Jono did have the decency to give a little, sheepish wriggle.

//Used to be much better at those,// he admitted, as though that made it better, somehow.

Of course, back then, he'd been largely in denial that he had powers that could do half of what he did, and he had been swallowing back his own potential to an unhealthy degree. This was a step up from that.

[sharp_as_knives]

"If you feel it's a skill that you need to better, try increasing it slowly, like any exercise," Hannibal suggested. "But I would suggest attempting to block out certain...wavelengths?...rather than everything. It's been difficult to reach you this week."

And he really had grown surprisingly used to that.

[furnaceface]

Hannibal was getting a wry look, now.

//You'd be surprised how difficult it is to filter out things that are quite so specific,// Jono noted, vaguely apologetically. //It's a bit like trying to pick iron filings out of sand using a strainer. You end up with a fair bit of well-sifted sand and iron filings, because your strainer just doesn't come with a magnet. It'd be easier if it was a few grains of sand and an iron filing or two, but here, it's dozens. Hundreds.//

There was a pause, and then he added, maybe a touch teasingly, //I do still have ears, though. And you demonstrated quite well tonight that you still have a mouth.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal tweaked a bit of skin not too near the cuts. You were being a brat, Jono. "If you can't get all of them, you might at least mitigate the effect. Or develop a sort of magnet. Have you tried anything like that before? And recently?"

[furnaceface]

//This isn't my first dance on an island full of pollen,// Jono noted with a little squirm away from that tweak. //I could ask Emma for advice, I suppose, but the amount of focus it would take to block out so much of something so specific feels like more effort than just blocking out the whole. Even she used to complain about the island's collective libido when she was living here. Fandomites don't exactly feel pollen-lust in half-measures. It's suffocating.//

He leaned in again, shrugging his shoulders. Carefully.

//I'll give it a try, anyway. I suppose the worst that'll happen is I'll complain at you about headaches some more.//