sharp_as_knives | Hannibal and Jono's house, Sunday afternoon

Entry tags:

Hannibal and Jono's house, Sunday afternoon

They had gotten (finally! officially!) married on Friday, but the precise portal they needed, due to the nature of it, could not be scheduled until Sunday, despite even Hannibal's best persuasion. Well, at least they had time to pack.

Which was made somewhat more difficult when all of your shirts had become hideous holiday sweaters. Hannibal was wearing one, and packing some of the others based on his memory of what they had been and hopefully would be tomorrow. He was very glad he kept an organized closet.

"Don't worry about all-weather gear," he told Jono, "just what you would normally wear in Spring or Autumn here, and a jacket for layering in case it's chilly."

[Expecting the one!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Layering in case it's chilly," Jono replied, frowning to himself as he poked through the sweaters at his disposal. So far, the face was still... a face. Which was nothing shy of a miracle, but holding it without going bio-nuclear was starting to get tiring. "Right. Ah."

He supposed he could just be secure that they were all band t-shirts and not sweat it too much. A few sweaters were shoved haphazardly into the 'pack' pile.

"The jacket bit is easy enough, at least."

"Thankfully." Hannibal packed the last of his clothes and made sure they were secure, then went to finish with his toiletries. "We should count our blessings that everything isn't so hideous."

"Hey, don't give the island ideas," Jono replied, turning a wry look his husband's way. "Not too late for it to go all-out, Hannibal."

Hannibal grimaced. "We'll hurry." At least they'd been able to shower this morning. After Friday and yesterday, they'd needed it.

He checked his own things, then set them by the door. "Ready?"

"For our honeymoon? Been ready since Friday." He smiled faintly, throwing his bag over his shoulder, then crouching down and scratching Joni behind the ear as she wound around his leg. "I suppose right now will do. Waiting for the big reveal has been driving me bloody insane since you mentioned you had it handled."

"Since two days ago, or eight months ago?" Hannibal asked. He stroked Beethoven's head where the cat was grumpily watching them from the bed.

"Since both," Jono admitted, now using two hands to ruffle the fur on Joni's cheeks before scooping her up and depositing a kiss on the top of her head while he still could.

... Pleh. Fur.

"You've done an excellent job of keeping the secret. This seems almost surreal. We finally get to actually do it."

"I am looking forward to it," Hannibal said, "though I confess it seems almost anticlimactic, after having finally become married."

"Honestly, I think anything shy of being carried off to our honeymoon on the backs of unicorns while every great musician of the past three centuries plays the sweeping score of our triumphant retreat into eternity would seem anticlimactic, after some of those attempts. I'll take anticlimactic. We've earned anticlimactic."

Anyway, he still hadn't blown his face out again! There was still time for some added excitement. He smiled as he set down the cat on the bed beside Beethoven.

"Shall we, then?"

"Let's." Hannibal hoisted his luggage and reached for Jono's hand. "Before we encounter anything worse than ugly sweaters."

Jono did not make a boyish little, 'eee' noise as he took Hannibal's hand, but damn it, it was a near thing. They'd been waiting for this one for a while. Their December elopement had been the result of a series of failed weddings since June, damn it. He hadn't entirely believed they'd ever get to this point.

"There you go again," he teased, stepping forward and holding open the bedroom door for Hannibal, "tempting fate."

"Merely treating it with appropriate wariness," Hannibal countered. "Do you blame me?"

"Not one bit."

Down the stairs, and then Jono was getting the door to the outside, pausing to collect his guitar case a moment later. The acoustic, just because there was less to haul along with it. You're welcome, Hannibal.

"Not that anybody can really blame me for being paranoid either, by this point."

"Not one bit," Hannibal echoed.

He checked his watch. "We should get there just in time. Pity they couldn't have put it in our yard again."

"Figure they're just being spiteful after I took my sweet time getting trousers on, on Friday," Jono decided. "At least they actually managed a portal before the weekend is through."

"Mm. Well, this is a somewhat specialized one," Hannibal said. "Not to mention it was originally scheduled for months ago."

"So they've been sitting on this booking since June?" Jono blinked. "Maybe they're just worried we aren't going to survive the trip to actually catch it."

"Also entirely possible," Hannibal answered wryly. "Come on; let's convince them otherwise."

"Absolutely," Jono said, pausing to lock up behind them before picking up his guitar again and heading out toward the road. "I still need some of that convincing, too. So, this, I have to see."

"You do," Hannibal agreed, grinning but giving nothing away.

"Tease," Jono replied lightly, then made his way down the street, en route to Portalocity. The trip there was uneventful, thank goodness. Apparently the island was satisfied with limiting itself to the ridiculous sweaters for the time being. And the people at Portalocity--

Okay, Jono couldn't help but smirk at them as they walked in. Apparently they were as surprised to see the pair and Jono as Hannibal were ready to make the damn trip.

Edited 2016-12-19 12:47 (UTC)

Surprised and possibly relieved? And one or two trying desperately not to laugh at the sweaters. Hannibal couldn't honestly blame them for that. At any rate, they got them and their luggage through the portal efficiently enough, which was the important part.

And then they were there, in a foyer that looked like a cross between a well-appointed cruise ship and a spacecraft, with a spectacular view out the windows of the moonscape dotted and lined with lights, and Earthrise above it all.

He turned to Jono and smiled. "I thought this was appropriate."

Jono needed a moment to actually fully fathom what t was that they were stepping into, here.There were lights, and there was space, and there, not here but there was Earth and--

"My god," he murmured. "Did you just bring me to the actual moon?"

"They have an impeccable resort rating," Hannibal answered innocently. "Although this is their off-season, so it shouldn't be too crowded."

He still wasn't entirely certain why the moon had an off season, but he wasn't going to question it.

If Jono thought on it too hard, he'd probably come to some conclusion that took into account the changing seasons on Earth and how they correlated to the distribution of wealth around the globe. But that was depressing. So he wasn't going to.

"Not crowded and on the actual, literal moon," he breathed. And then blinked and turned a broad grin Hannibal's way. "But are there almonds?"

He wasn't waiting for an answer. He was going in for a kiss, instead.

Hannibal would probably add to that cultural biases towards times of the year for marriages and other vacations, but he wasn't going to bother.

Instead he grinned and just pulled Jono in for that kiss. There was still a hint of that unique smoky taste that was Jono, even with most of him reformed, and the bit of flames that pressed outward from the center of his chest, in just the size of Hannibal's fist, which was a heady thought in itself.

He smiled again, happily, when they finished. "I didn't ask."

"Mmmm, didn't ask? I think you're just sick of almonds by now," Jono teased, smiling as well and leaning forward to just let his forehead rest against Hannibal's for a moment. "It's alright. I won't hold it against you."

He was picking up on that heady feeling drifting outward from Hannibal, and it made him grin all the more.

"You're thinking about it again, aren't you?"

"I shall neither confirm nor deny," Hannibal said, smirking. "Why don't we check in and get to our room?"

"And when we get to our room, will you confirm once we're there?"

Oh, there was nothing but naughtiness in Jonothon's expression as he said that one. But then, it was their honeymoon. On the actual moon. If ever there was a time to be utterly, shamelessly naughty, this was probably it.

"I may confirm many things," Hannibal answered, grinning even more. "You'll have to wait to find out."

He was already moving toward the desk and smiling with more rote pleasantry at the receptionist as he gave them their names.

"As if I haven't waited enough already? Cruel, Hannibal. That's bloody cruel."

Okay, so it wasn't, really. Jono was still obviously teasing. But if he didn't complain at least a little bit, how would Hannibal know he was excited?

The receptionist smiled and handed them their room keys, and congratulated them on their marriage, then turned their attention back toward their work.

"So..." Jono glanced at Hannibal. "Shall we, then?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hannibal and Jono's house, Sunday afternoon

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject