Hannibal's home (in which Jono is not having a good day), later Thursday

[sharp_as_knives]

Between his cracked ribs, wrenched leg, and bruised...everything...it took a while longer for Hannibal to get home than usual, even with Jono helping.

Well, at least they had dinner already made, thanks to Eliot. And the time spent wrapped so close to Jono did give him time to soak in Hannibal's calm, which would hopefully help. Along with the aches and pains he was feeling, unfortunately; Hannibal had considered attempting to hide them, but he rather thought Jono wouldn't thank him for that.

Luckily, there was a full bath on the lower level, since that seemed to be where Hannibal was grounded to.

He wasn't bothering to hide his amusement at being grounded, either. Even if he suspected it rather defeated the purpose.

"Am I entitled to towels after my soak?"

Comments

[furnaceface]

//Good.// Jono settled down carefully beside the bath, leaning against the tub and closing his eyes. God, his everything hurt and he was tired. //Giving this one more go, then. But I'm drawing my line at that.//

Because honestly, if they couldn't get married after four weddings, the universe was clearly conspiring against them and could just go get stuffed.

[sharp_as_knives]

If four weddings didn't do it, even Hannibal wasn't going for the funeral.

"Only one more," Hannibal agreed. "Perhaps we can get Bob to put the same spells on The Boards as on our home, so that nothing dangerous gets in."

He carefully raised one hand to rest it on Jono's head, stroking his hair.

[furnaceface]

//... I'd be willing to see if Bob is up for that,// Jono murmured, leaning his head into Hannibal's hand. He was still angry, and he didn't think Hannibal would think otherwise. But he also sort of needed this. //No chances, this time. No announcement in the paper. We go over the invite list again before sending it out. Maybe we just bloody well phone people this time. If they don't answer their phone or check their voicemail, we still tried.//

No risks.

Less opportunity to, say, invite people who wanted them dead, this way.

[sharp_as_knives]

"All reasonable precautions," Hannibal said. "Again, not on a weekend. Or only if the previous weekend has had odd happenings and not the week before. We oversee everything closely."

[furnaceface]

//... We might need to invest in silk flowers, if we're going at it like that,// Jono noted. //I already felt like an arsehole getting th'flower shop bloke to make all those bouquets on such short notice.//

And at this point, it would ultimately be cheaper. Even if they went with the really high end ones.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Real flowers," Hannibal said firmly. "Silk isn't the same. We'll pay him very well."

[furnaceface]

Jono was just cracking open one eye and giving Hannibal a look.

Yeah, he was still in a mood.

//We'll see if he's up for it again,// he settled on. //If we're specifically aiming for a weekend after th' excrement hits the air conditioning, he might be reeling too much to do it any justice.//

Christ, Jono had to talk the poor man down from a full-blown panic, while he was there before.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal pursed his lips but nodded in agreement. "We'll see."

He went back to stroking Jono's hair, trailing his fingers down to his flames. He stroked them, too, then winced as Jono's aches bled through, compounding his own. "How badly hurt are you?"

[furnaceface]

Jono continued looking at Hannibal for only a few moments more, and then just shrugged his shoulders and settled against the tub, shifting to try to get comfortable.

//Hard to say, really. I'm picking up on your injuries too, after all.//

And he hadn't exactly been paying close attention to himself while he was in homicidal hit-man mode. He was pretty sure he'd be feeling it later, even if he did ease himself back from Hannibal psionically.

//I'll live, just like I told Lucille earlier.//

But that was a given.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal nodded. "We both will. It won't be comfortable for a while, but we will." He shifted, trying to get comfortable. "I'll take painkillers; perhaps they'll help us both."

[furnaceface]

//Perhaps they will,// Jono agreed, and then hiked his shoulders upwards slightly. //I might put that wall back up until you do, though. Not that I'm not terribly fond of you even when I want to smother you under a pillow, but...//

He gestured vaguely with one hand. Unless Hannibal was toying with his fire, he only had one set of aches to contend with.

[sharp_as_knives]

"There are some in the cabinet behind you," Hannibal said. A kit in every bathroom and the kitchen wasn't excessive when you had his hobbies and penchant for preparation.

He was really never going to be without a scalpel or knife again, after this.

[furnaceface]

Jono paused a moment, drawing up his psionic barriers, getting a feel for every ache and pain in his own body before gingerly making a reach for the cabinet.

//... Nothing you shouldn't be taking while in the tub, I should hope?//

Not that Jono wouldn't fish Hannibal out if he went under, but still.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Not right now," Hannibal answered. "Later. For now - the second compartment down, on the left."

[furnaceface]

//Second down,// Jono echoed, and pulled out the painkillers in question. He eyed the package for a moment, and then shrugged, deciding he didn't much care either way. After all, it wasn't as though he could take them. //Here you are, then.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"There's more of that analgesic cream upstairs," Hannibal said. "Although I don't know that rubbing it into your bruises would be particularly pleasant."

[furnaceface]

//I'll pass. I've put up with worse without anything to help me along before,// Jono decided, and yes, part of that was out of sheer stubbornness. //My hands still work and my head seems to be more or less all here, that'll do.//

He held the painkillers out to Hannibal.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal nodded his thanks and swallowed them dry. "You could try healing yourself," he suggested. He wasn't holding out much hope, today being what it was, but it did bear mentioning.

[furnaceface]

//Too tired,// Jono settled on. //Might try later. Might not. Tonight I'll settle for spite and having that big bed all to myself.//

He was such a warm and tender, caring individual.

[sharp_as_knives]

Which naturally made Hannibal amused all over again. "To yourself and the cats," he pointed out. Although it was even odds as to if Beethoven would prefer the large bed or Hannibal's feet.

"Help me with my hair?" he asked. It was sweaty and had a bit of blood in it, which he'd prefer to be rid of. He wouldn't mind simply soaking for longer, but if Jono was that tired, it was probably best to be up and toweled off sooner rather than later.

[furnaceface]

//Myself and the cats,// Jono amended as he reached for the shampoo. He didn't mind that idea all that much. After all, nobody had ever pointed a gun at him over Joni. //Because, as we know, they aren't grounded.//

Because really, good luck grounding a cat.

[sharp_as_knives]

"You could try," Hannibal said, well aware of how that would work. He shifted forward a little to make reaching his hair easier.

[furnaceface]

//I could, but what would the point be? They haven't done anything to make me angry yet today.//

Yet. They were cats. He could be patient. And in the meantime, he'd start working shampoo into Hannibal's hair.

[sharp_as_knives]

"There's always time." It was Hannibal's turn to lean into Jono's hands, giving him better access and enjoying the feel of it. He reached up to rub at the dirtiest spot by one ear himself.

[furnaceface]

//I suppose there is.// Jono rubbed carefully but thoroughly at Hannibal's scalp, deft fingers twining through his hair. //Joni's usually quicker to capitulate and get back to sucking up when she realizes she's made a mistake, though.//

He raised an eyebrow at Hannibal, though he didn't stop lathering the shampoo.

//An apology wouldn't go amiss, you know. Bonus points for sincerity.//