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.)]

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[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal took a moment to enjoy the sight - his knowledge of biology ensured its shape and color, but the vessels and striations on the surface looked more like marble than flesh, polished and opulent. And yet it was still beating.

He held it over Jono's arm, squeezing as he thought of what he wanted, and what flowed down was less blood and more the concentrated essence of his feelings - predatory possessiveness, awed acceptance, and the jubilant caring that they seldom put a name to.

[furnaceface]

Jono watched in silence as that essence flowed over him, splashing over him in a river of liquid obsidian. He gasped as it continued up the length of his arm, creeping over flesh and fire, impossibly close, like a second skin. Up over his shoulders, down over his chest, moving to engulf the whole of him inside and out. His gasp died when it crept into his mouth, and he stopped staring at it as it covered his eyes. Tendrils reached out to crown his head with antlers that curved upward triumphantly before melting away again as that essence, that obsidian emotion, seeped away into the cracks, giving way first to flame and then to clean flesh.

Jonothon stood there, shivering and naked and staring at his arms, not covered in seeping wounds, but bearing the etched lines of a thousand scars, all filled in with...

He looked up at Hannibal, at the heart in his hand. And then his head bowed and he exhaled, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry, emotions welling up and shimmering through him, shining through the obsidian in iridescent, swirling shades of blood and gold.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal's own hand trembled ever so slightly as he set his heart back in his chest. Nobody who didn't know him very well would have seen it, but it was difficult not to be a little overcome with the beauty of that vision.

He settled for stroking his thumbs along those swirling scars as he pulled Jono in for a fervent kiss.

[furnaceface]

Jonothon found himself surging forward to meet Hannibal in that kiss, swept up in an overwhelming hunger at the first brush of his lips, his mouth opening as though he intended to devour Hannibal then and there. His teeth were a predator's teeth, seeking to savour every scrap of flesh that they could sink into. His tongue was fire, as hungry and dangerous as the rest of him, seeking out Hannibal's own.

He wasn't afraid that he'd burn the man he was clutching close now with desperate, strong hands. His own heart was spilling out around them, flames reaching to embrace him as the blood had engulfed Jonothon. If anybody stood to be burned by that fire, it wasn't Hannibal. After all, the most persistent threat to Jono's mind had always been himself. Hannibal was made of something different.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smiled into the kiss, licking and biting back, taking that fire into himself. It flowed over and around and through him, a fierce comforting heat that he welcomed, his eyes reflecting it back.

[furnaceface]

Jonothon's smile went feral at that, something like a purr in his throat as he grabbed Hannibal and pulled him closer still. He'd fold himself around the man, crawl inside of him, push through, so that they would fill every ounce of one another with what made them them. There was Hannibal, threaded through his cracks and shining there like something beautiful and dangerous, and there was Jonothon, flickering through Hannibal with a warm glow.

He wanted more.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal chuckled. "Still impatient. Should I make you wait again?"

[furnaceface]

"You'd do that? Make me wait even longer here in my own head?"

That seemed terribly unfair to Jono. But then, patience wasn't his greatest strength, really. Never really had been.

[sharp_as_knives]

"I might." Hannibal smirked. "I could chain you up inside and out, and make you think about all the things I could be doing to you."

[furnaceface]

"See how much it takes to get me to break the rules here in my own head?" Jono gave Hannibal a wry little smile. "It'll be more difficult in here, you know."

Chains were much harder to keep in place when you were the one in charge of your surroundings, almost utterly.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Yes, I know," Hannibal answered. "You'll have to try very hard, won't you? However," he licked the shell of Jono's ear, "the longer you last in here, the less I'll make you wait out there."

[furnaceface]

Well, that was just playing dirty, that was. Jono closed his eyes and shivered, his grip on Hannibal tightening for a moment, and then, grudgingly, letting go entirely.

"... Well. I think I'm up for that challenge."

He was going to sprain his brain trying. Just wait and see.

[sharp_as_knives]

No brain-sprains, please; they didn't make a splint for those.

"I'm pleased to hear it." Hannibal stepped back, took Jono's hands in his, and held them behind his back. "Handcuffs, please."

[furnaceface]

Jono's eyes closed in thought, though it was hardly as though he needed to really put forth too much effort. Wisps of smoke appeared around his wrists, condensing and shaping themselves until, with a soft clink of metal, they were something solid and tangible and secure, there in his mind's eye.

Handcuffs.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Very good." Hannibal kissed one shoulder in approval. "Now you'll want to keep them there." He kissed his way over to Jono's neck, lifting the hair there to nuzzle into his nape and scrape the skin with his teeth.

[furnaceface]

Well. That was a good way to get Jono to shudder again, right there. After all, he was very fond of Hannibal's mouth. Especially when Hannibal's mouth was on him.

Most sane people would have very opposite feelings, in that regard. Dare to be different, Jonothon.

"I can do that..."

[sharp_as_knives]

To be fair, most people with Hannibal's mouth on them were too dead to realize it.

"I'm pleased to hear it." He bit down lightly and sucked on the skin there, slowly moving downward.

[furnaceface]

Jono arched a little bit at the sensations moving slowly down from his neck. He could do that, at least, and take in a little gasp for good measure.

"Thought you... might be," he murmured, eyes half-lidded, trying like hell to not just give in to the urge to step apart from himself and let each piece of himself have his way. The handcuffs were a good start. They were symbolic in the same way that anything was in here, and a reminder that he did have to keep it together right then.

It was an important reminder, when he was occasionally prone to shoving himself out of the way, stepping to the fore to do things that other pieces of his head would quail at the thought of.

In here, the challenge of keeping Jonothon restrained wasn't Hannibal's, it was Jonothon's. And some parts of him were more receptive to the idea than others.

[sharp_as_knives]

And that left Hannibal free to do whatever he liked; to do his best to drive Jono literally out of his mind.

"And how long do you think you can last?" he asked teasingly. He licked a stripe down Jono's spine as far as his joined hands, then began biting his way back up.

[furnaceface]

Oh, Jono had to shiver at that. How could he not?

"It's my head," he murmured, glancing over his shoulder at Hannibal. "I figure I'll last as long as I want to."

... This was probably an accurate answer.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal chuckled into Jono's ear, biting the lobe. "And how long do you think you can want to?"

[furnaceface]

"I suppose," Jono breathed, "that would depend on what you're doing, wouldn't it?"

Like, day, this. With the biting? The biting was making things difficult.

[sharp_as_knives]

"And with what I'm doing now?" Hannibal slid his arms around Jono, scraping his nails over his chest as he bit down on his ear again.

[furnaceface]

Jono's shoulders arched backwards a little as he tried to press his chest into the touch of Hannibal's nails. The flames that shifted over his skin threw off little sparks, embers that glowed white-hot as they floated around them, and then faded away.

"You're... definitely keeping my attention," he managed.

[sharp_as_knives]

"I had better be," Hannibal said archly. "Otherwise I'm doing a terrible job."

Which he was not. He was instead moving to nibble on the soft spot behind Jono's ear as his fingers dug in and scraped lower.