Hannibal's house (where he and Jono are getting tired of not being married), Friday morning

[sharp_as_knives]

Jono had been handling the latest of the island's whims fairly well, but it was obvious that he'd needed a bit of time regardless. Not that Hannibal minded the massages and the food-sharing.

Eventually, however, they were going to have to discuss the yet another wedding plan, this one as minimalist as possible, that had gotten, to use his (still) fiancé's parlance, totally buggered.

And as Jono had made it to class Wednesday, Hannibal thought that the time might be now.

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[furnaceface]

A headache was fine. They could take something for a headache. The both of them. With their mouths. All of these thoughts came in rapid succession before the fire even thought to care if the one about headaches had even been his in the first place. It didn't matter. The light was helping to bring focus, to separate one Self from the other, to set all of the other pinpoints of light aside and just be.

The flames shifted yet again, tightened in, took on an almost recognizable shape. This was the fire, wasn't it? This was the home it wanted to come back to. These were its hands, this was its face. Here were its lungs, all suggestions within the twisting, coalescing energy that it was comprised of. The best part, though, was when the suggestions started to become something else, started to create matter out of nothingness, flesh and bone out of thought. It was a heady feeling, a drunken blur that started to drag the fire's consciousness in all directions at once, but only within the realm of itself.

It was aware, it could feel every molecule of its body coming in to being, knew by instinct alone where to arrange cells, was acutely paying attention to the sensation of the first beat of a heart, of the brain's neurons firing through steadily forming branches of nerves and how it all tied into itself. It would forget in a moment. It always did, the way it felt to become whole. There was too much of itself there, along with the world around it, and as a consciousness it was aware of it all. As a mind, it took the whole of it and set it to the side.

There was a strange pressure where its chest was meant to be.

There was cold, everywhere.

Jonothon's eyes pulled into sharp focus, and he gasped.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smiled. "Welcome back." He stood still and careful, waiting.

[furnaceface]

It took Jonothon a few moments of just breathing before he was entirely back to his senses. His hand shot up to grab at the one that was currently... in his chest. Which was not altogether a new sensation, except that the circumstances were somewhat different than usual.

"... S'alright, I didn't need a sternum anyway."

Yes. Yes, these were the first words out of his mouth. He was still working on getting his brain to kick in again, give him a break.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at him. "No, you didn't." He pulled back slowly, stroking Jono's chest with his free hand as he pulled the other free as carefully as possible.

[furnaceface]

And here was Jono, hissing between his teeth and closing his eyes. It wasn't that this hurt, exactly. There was nothing being damaged here that wasn't already. But it had been long enough since he'd really felt anything there all over again, there was an overabundance of sensation, not all of it entirely pleasant, and 'hand in the chest' was not exactly the greatest of things to feel first thing after reconstituting oneself from nothingness.

"Okay... okay, s'too much, s'too much, but s'okay. Just gonna... s'okay..."

Hand. In chest.

[sharp_as_knives]

"Just a moment longer." Hannibal moved to stand closer, pressing up against Jono's side to give him something to focus on. He wrapped his free arm around him and kissed the corner of his mouth.

[furnaceface]

Ah-- Hannibal was warm. Warm, and he had a terribly distracting mouth. Both were practically blessings at the moment, considering he was standing outside, bare-ass naked, in the snow, drowning in a sea of over-stimulation. He made a sound deep in his throat, something between a whine and a moan, and the sound of it almost startled him all on its own.

"If we're stuck this way, I swear I'm going to bite you," he murmured, turning his head to try to catch Hannibal's mouth for a more thorough kiss than that. "Hard."

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal chuckled into the kiss. "We won't be." He deepened the kiss and pulled at Jono's lip with his teeth. "But feel free to bite me regardless." He pulled his hand free.

[furnaceface]

"Aah--"

Damn it, Hannibal. You had to have a pretty bloody good idea what you were doing to him here, didn't you? Your hand had been right there in his flames, after all, which were now spilling from the hole in his chest and twining up around around you, Jonothon's hands grabbing desperately for your arms, pulling you close, kissing you as though his life depended on it with his body pressing up against you, as close as he could possibly manage...

He had to while he could. He was shaking, and a good amount of that was from the cold, but an even bigger amount of it was just need.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal did have a very good idea, yes, and he was grinning fiercely into that kiss. But he had other priorities at the moment. Which was why he was using his arms wrapped around Jono to pick him up and drape him over one shoulder.

"Let's get you inside before you do get frostbite. It would be a shame to win your face and lose your toes."

[furnaceface]

"Whoa- Hey now!" This was not the sort of pre-wedding treatment that Jono had been anticipating, no. He was at least going to spare himself some dignity and not flail about while slung over Hannibal's shoulder like that. That was good, right. "I will make new toes."

Okay, no, Hannibal had a point. It was bloody cold out here. And he was naked in the backyard. In December. In what was quickly becoming broad daylight.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal chuckled. "Here, is this better?" He maneuvered Jono into a bridal carry. "Although I believe this is supposed to be after the ceremony."

[furnaceface]

"We've never been the traditional sort before," Jono pointed out, throwing his arms up around Hannibal's shoulders, now that he was able. "Most people do the naked thing after the carrying over the threshold bit, too."

At least they were this much closer to hitting all the beats than they had been before.

"... How much time have I got left to get dressed before the portal?"

[sharp_as_knives]

"Ten minutes," Hannibal answered. "Although I may have implied bodily harm if they didn't hold it for us if necessary."

[furnaceface]

"How very romantic," Jono teased, smirking just that little bit more. "Though at this point I'd say we've more than earned it."

At this point, if anything got between them and just signing the damn sheet of paper, Jono would blow up on them himself. Possibly literally.

[sharp_as_knives]

And Hannibal would encourage it.

"We have," he said firmly. "Get the door, please."

[furnaceface]

"Getting the door," Jono replied, flailing about with one hand for a moment before locating the doorknob and giving it a turn. "And in we go."

[sharp_as_knives]

"Thank you." Hannibal stepped in and swung Jono down. "I'll get you a towel."

[furnaceface]

Now safely deposited on the floor, Jono nodded, wrapping his arms around himself and trying to warm up. Funny, just a few minutes ago he was entirely ablaze, and now he was freezing his bloody arse off.

December was maybe not the greatest month to attempt this in. In a warmer month, he'd probably be far more giddy that so far, this seemed to be working.

"I'll stay put so as to not track snow in, then."

[sharp_as_knives]

In a warmer month, he'd probably be bitten by mosquitos, so at least there was that?

Hannibal squeezed Jono's hand and hurried to bring back his robe and a towel. "Here you are, then. Warm up and dry off."

[furnaceface]

There was that! Small favours, really.

"Thank you," he murmured, reaching for the towel and patting himself down. In a slightly distracted sort of way, granted. Everything was distracting right then. The ability to breathe was distracting. He was wearing a stupid little smile by the time he came up again for the robe. "... I suppose I'll be needing more than this before we go, though, hm?"

Note how that wasn't stopping him from pulling it on and just kind of balling himself up in it for a moment or three. Ah, warm thing. Good warm thing.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal smiled back and wrapped his arms around Jono, rubbing his back and arms. "Did you want to wear what you had on, or shall I get you something else?"

[furnaceface]

Jono smirked a little as he nuzzled in. Ah, warm. Good warm.

"Will you ever forgive me if I marry you in a t-shirt and jeans, Hannibal?"

Even Jono wasn't sure he'd forgive himself for that one, honestly.

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal huffed. "I will never forgive you if trying to decide upon what to wear is what makes us miss the opportunity." He shrugged. "We have wedding pictures of you in several gorgeous outfits. I'm willing to forego formality for expediency."

[furnaceface]

"What I was wearing it is, then," Jono laughed - actually laughed! - and eased away a little, looking around for where he'd set his things. "I'll need new pants, though. And socks."

It was December out there. He wasn't going outside again without socks. Or underwear.