milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Sinric comes in from the garden in early evening, carrying a basket of cherries fresh from the orchard and still warm from the sun.

He sits at the bar and requests a cloth bag. He carefully sorts through the basket, setting the cherries in two equal piles.

Infinitely botherable, he's more than happy to share.

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"Yes, you are," Hannibal says, pulling him close and kissing him again. "You are in fact very distracting. My poor paella!"

And another kiss.

Sinric smiles into the kiss, teasing his tongue between Hannibal's lips playfully. "Will it survive, do you think?"

"It will be horribly ruined, and I will have to start over," Hannibal says, "and if I am very unlucky, a forge cat wanders into the kitchen and steals the fish I prepared, too."

He touches his own tongue-tip to Sinric's and makes no move to draw away.

"Then I should stop and help you rescue your meal." He parts his lips, deepening the kiss unrepentantly.

"You absolutely should," Hannibal says, deepening the kiss with equal enthusiasm.

Sinric lets his hand drift down to pull Hannibal against him, sighing into the kiss.

Hannibal runs his hand down Sinric's back, caressing the sinuous curve of his spine.

Sinric's breathing quickens. "Your food is burning." And that is no indication he wants Hannibal to stop judging by the kisses and how he melts into the touch.

"The rice," Hannibal agrees, hungrily continuing the kisses, "is getting soggy, the vegetables are overcooked, the oil gets stale and the saffron is wasted. And the cats will steal the fish."

A finger wanders up the spine again as Hannibal teases the inside of Sinric's lips with his tongue.

"We can't let that happen. That would be-" the rest of the words get lost in a soft moan as he arches into the touch.

"Such a dreadful waste," Hannibal murmurs, cradling Sinric's neck with great gentleness.

The touch makes him feel small and delicate and protected. And makes him moan softly. "Dreadful. I'm a terrible person for distracting you so."

"And I'm a terrible cook for callously abandoning my work," Hannibal says, pushing his fingers up through Sinric's hair, softly stroking his scalp on the back of his head.

"Oh." He moans softly, as Hannibal's hand moves in his hair. "I... we should..." He swallows, licking his lips before kissing Hannibal passionately.

"... save the paella," Hannibal murmurs, messing up Sinric's hair amid increasingly sloppy and greedy kisses.

"And then... go somewhere..." He whimpers softly, pleadingly.

"That might have to happen first," Hannibal says, pulling Sinric close with a new urgency.

"Don't want the kitchen to burn." And that's the only thing stopping Sinric from begging Hannibal to take him now.

"Rats will stop that," Hannibal says, looking over Sinric's head towards the stairs, as oof to plot the fastest course there.

"Oh, good!" He half turns that way, ready to break towards the stairs as soon as Hannibal is ready to move.

"Let's make a dash for it," Hannibal says, disentangling one hand from Sinric's hair, "before security..."

"Oh yes. Please?" He steals one last kiss and grabs Hannibal's hand and runs for the stairs and the first open door.

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