Hannibal's house (where Jono's in "trouble"), Monday afternoon

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal had gotten up early that morning and skipped his morning run in favor of heading directly to the Boards. He still wasn't entirely convinced that the cleanup should be his job, but he did have the expertise for it, and he wanted Jono happy, so he'd been willing to make the compromise. Today was the last of it.

Which didn't mean he actually enjoyed it all. He'd already swept up bits of vases and ribbons, candles and dead flowers, and set the broken chairs to one side; today he had left for cleaning up the blood stains from the floor and the side of the stage. By the time he'd finished enough to call and schedule the carpenter and contractor for the rest, he was sweaty, slightly sore, and more than a little annoyed.

A shower took care of some of that. The rest, he fully intended to take out on Jono.



[OOC: For the one mentioned, expected to go NSFW, and standard warnings for what these guys do not really being remotely safe or sane for anybody but them. (But it is completely consensual.)]

Comments

[furnaceface]

//Ah--// Jono blinked as he was yanked backwards, and he fumbled his book. It fell to the floor with a flutter of pages and the clunk of the cover on hardwood. //Well, then. Anything in particular you'd like to discuss?//

He wasn't exactly concerned, here. Yes, he was being strangled from behind by a serial killer. Also he was capable of living without a head, so he really didn't think for a moment that Hannibal intended to actually do him any serious harm.

[sharp_as_knives]

Harm, no. Hurt...well, that remained to be seen. But not with the cord - that was just to get his attention. Hannibal was fully aware it wouldn't even stop Jono from talking, after all.

"A number of things. Perhaps in a more appropriate and less fragile venue." He tugged on the cord, coaxing Jono to stand.

[furnaceface]

And who was Jono to say no? Carefully, deliberately, he eased himself to his feet, letting Hannibal guide him in whatever direction he pleased. Really, knowing this particular sort of mood - and Hannibal's way of making that mood known to him - it was entirely possible that the proper venue was anywhere from the bedroom to the office.

Probably whichever would be easiest to clean later.

//Then I'm all yours,// he said, not entirely able to keep the edge of something hungry from his voice. //Lead on.//

[sharp_as_knives]

Yes, please. Hannibal had done enough cleaning for the week. He'd like to keep further mess to a minimum. Or at least manageable.

He loosened the cord enough to let Jono walk around to join him, then tightened it again, wrapping it around his hand and setting his hand at the back of Jono's neck as he guided him toward the gym.

[furnaceface]

//My very own leash,// Jono mused as they walked. //Afraid I'm going to wander off, Hannibal?//

... It was very unlikely that he'd try.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Not now," Hannibal said archly. He marched Jono to the door and opened it, turned on the lights, and headed for the middle of the floor.

Mats would be easy to clean.

[furnaceface]

And far more comfortable to be laid out across than most of the other equipment in here, really. Jono turned a bit of a glance toward Hannibal, at least as well as he was able, but he didn't put up a fight, letting Hannibal lead him out to the middle of the room.

//Well, I suppose I am a slippery one,// Jono mused. //Never know when I'll wriggle away.//

Clearly he'd have to be tied down, just to be sure.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Oh?" Hannibal smirked. "In that case -" He tied the cord off and left it hanging down behind Jono, then grabbed one of his wrists and brought it up behind him. A second later and the snick of handcuffs sounded as they locked around Jono's wrist. Hannibal looped the chain over the cord before reaching for his other hand.

[furnaceface]

You know, for somebody who needed to actually breathe, this would probably be a fairly dangerous arrangement. For Jono... mostly it meant that his arms were stuck behind his back and he was holding his own leash, now.

//Ah, you came prepared,// he mused, letting Hannibal take his other hand, because if there was one thing he liked more than cord, it was handcuffs. Honestly, now. //You already know how slippery I am. I have to admire that in you, I really do.//

[sharp_as_knives]

One of the pleasures of having Jono as a partner was not having to worry about petty things like his breathing.

"Very, very slippery," Hannibal purred in Jono's ear. He closed the cuffs around his second hand, capturing it as well, then settled his own hands at Jono's waist. "But you're not getting away from me today."

[furnaceface]

Jono gave his arms an experimental little shift, then nodded just slightly and leaned his head back so that he could be almost cheek to cheek with Hannibal, provided he didn't pull his face away. There was definitely some pull there, and while he wasn't going to strangle himself, he could feel the cord against what was left of his throat. That would've been extremely uncomfortable if there was much more there than flame and torn flesh.

//Apparently I'm not,// he agreed, raising his eyebrows, giving Hannibal his best guileless look. //Should I take this to mean that you're unhappy with me?//

[sharp_as_knives]

"I have been happier," Hannibal allowed. "But I believe I can fix that." He slid one hand up to Jono's neck, setting it around what was left of his throat, the flames licking up around his finger. "I trust you don't mind?"

[furnaceface]

//If I did, there wouldn't be a cord around my neck right now,// Jono replied, eyes half-closing. There was just something about having Hannibal's fingers in the fire. There was a hunger there.

It was maddening in only the best ways.

//Please, do fix that.//

[sharp_as_knives]

"I plan on it." Hannibal's grin was downright feral. "I hope you don't care too strongly for this shirt."

[furnaceface]

Jono... couldn't actually look down to see which shirt he was wearing without moving his hands upwards, so he mostly just found himself hoping that whatever he put on that morning, it wasn't one of his Pearl Jam ones.

It wasn't.

//Not particularly strongly, no,// he replied. //A shirt's a shirt.//

Unless it was a Pearl Jam shirt, in which case he'd be sad in the morning.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Good." Hannibal bit Jono's ear, then stepped away and stood behind him for a moment, simply waiting.

[furnaceface]

Jono glanced behind himself at Hannibal, and then down at his shirt, as best as he was able. Which he was a little too handcuffed to be able to just take off at the moment. Which meant...

//Ah.//

Well, if it was one of the shirts he liked or not, he'd never know. There was a faint curl of smoke up around his face, and then fire.

Really, the poor t-shirt didn't stand much of a chance.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. He had intended to cut it off, but that was certainly another way to do it. He tugged at the rags on Jono's back. "Impatient, are we?"

[furnaceface]

//You've got me bound and handcuffed,// Jono replied, leaning his head back to glance Hannibal's way. //Should I not have?//

Because there weren't many ways of making Jono impatient that were more effective than this one, really.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal's look was wicked. "Perhaps. But you're simply going to have to wait."

He shook out the rags of Jono's t-shirt and folded the fabric before setting it aside.

[furnaceface]

//... It's charred to a crisp and you're still folding it,// Jono lamented, watching as best as he was able. //You really are out for revenge, aren't you?//

[sharp_as_knives]

That didn't require an answer, did it? Hannibal stalked back to Jono, eyes roaming over him, giving no hint of what he intended.

[furnaceface]

And Jono just looked back at him, his eyes giving a silent plea. Bloody hell, he didn't do 'anticipation' well. This was going to be the end of him. This right here.

//... Gonna be th'death of me...//

[sharp_as_knives]

"Not yet." Hannibal smiled again, reaching out to run his hands down the sides of Jono's chest, his fingers moving in and out of flames as he went.

[furnaceface]

Jono shivered at that touch, at the momentary flashes of Hannibal's predatory hunger interspersed with quiet, and wanting, and hands against skin, his attention being pulled between one sort of sensation and another.

//Keep this up and you will,// he maintained, trying to tug his hands forward again, only to have the cuffs bite into his wrists, and the cord pull at his neck. //You and those hands of yours.//