bakerstreet | Tuesday Sexting

Hey! Sorry I was quiet for a while, just got finished at work though.

I'm buying that cereal you like on my way back, okay

How's it going, kiddo? :)

[ This is still new - new enough to be almost scary - but Lee trusts Alastair. More importantly, she likes him - likes him a lot, enough to reach outside her comfort zone. And this game, whatever it is, it's...

It feels nice for her, too, and she hadn't thought to expect that at first. ]

Did you get any of the chores done that I made a list of?

hey!! it's good
uhhh
i did one
and then i took a break like you said i could
then i...got...distracted

{ and no it wasn't videos of raccoons on youtube again... }

[ ...she did say he could take breaks. She set herself up for this.

Mostly because she was trying to be respectful of the mindset Alastair can sometimes get in when they play this game. Sometimes he likes shoving on boundaries just to make sure it isn't all gonna fall on his head. ]

Okay. That's okay.
What distracted you after you took a break?

[ Was it...fruity pebbles, or froot loops that he said he liked...and is there really a difference? ]

i went to sit on the couch
and then i fell asleep...
it's because i was out late last night
sorry :(
i can probably get one more done before you're back though

{ um, there is definitely a difference between pebbles and loops?? come on, what kind of fruity cereal guy do you think Alastair is! }

I mean that definitely SOUNDS like you...
It's okay, I'm not mad!
It's sort of hilarious how you can fall asleep in any position and in any situation
Sometimes I wonder if you actually have narcolepsy...
Well if you can stay up and get one more chore done before I'm back, that would make me really happy
Please try for me?

[ This is the fun part and the weird part. It feels like acting, but it's rooted in so much honesty Lee can't quite call it that, not all the way.

Except for some, specific parts of it, at least. ] Give it a shot for mommy?

{ 'Give it a shot for'-- Alastair stares around the apartment and just straight up does not want to do anything else off of that chore list. wasn't taking the trash out enough?

it's easy to pretend like nothing's wrong. gosh, it's probably the easiest thing in the world for him. sometimes this game makes it easier, but other times...

what Lee doesn't know is that Alastair only fell asleep because he'd been brooding all morning. the anxiety of this list of chores is just as crippling as procrastination -- the concept of disappointing Lee could very well kill him on the spot.

he sighs, dragging his hands down his face. }

haha those are just power naps!
and okay i'll try
for you

{ Alastair can't -- he already knows it. he's stuck to the couch with his elbows on his knees and his jaw in his hands, mind spiraling with pure emotions that leave his mind blank of real thought. }

is THAT how you store up that much energy for when you're awake...

I'll be home soon, okay buddy?

[ Lee doesn't realize that suggesting he power through another chore was a bad move. She isn't the best at connecting dots in person, she sure as hell has even more wobbly chances over text.

And besides, she's up against the East coast's most charming 'fake it til you make it' graduate. Most people wouldn't stand a chance. ]

Hey! I'm home!

[ Lee's voice is sunny, as she kicks off converse at the front door and then can skid off towards the living room. She passes the kitchen, on the way, which clearly has a new trash bag in the bin as she inspects it as she goes, but... The dishes haven't been cycled. No pots were washed. And the table's just as covered in textbooks and field hockey sticks as before...

She sticks her head out into the living room. ]

Hey, kiddo? Did you, uh-- get anything else done? [ And after a beat, because Lee doesn't like leaving interactions hanging in uncertainty during these games, she holds out the grocery store bag. ] I couldn't remember which rainbow-flavored cereal it was, so I just got both.

{ the sound of the door snaps Alastair back into reality, almost a little too suddenly, and his low, deafening roar of a mood is now ringing high pitched throughout his body. fuck fuck fuck fuck -- he stands up and feels a panic. does he have enough time to jump out a window before Lee comes in?

--nope. here he is, with a rustling plastic bag, being only amazing and thoughtful and sweet and nothing he possibly has earned or deserved. why has that never been a problem for Alastair until just now? rude, brain. super rude!

Alastair buzzes up and wraps his arms around Lee's head, pulling her face into his chest and hugging her firmly to him. while it seems like he's just super excited to see her, it's mostly his attempt to completely block Lee from what she's already noticed: nothing else got done. look, no one ever said Alastair's choices were smart ones. }

Wow, thanks! { aaand also keeping Lee from seeing his face. } Jeez...now I...really feel bad for...

{ unfortunately, Alastair didn't calculate how close to his chest he was squishing Lee into, a chest struggling to breathe smoothly or, you know, calmly. }

Alastair tugs her in immediately, which feels great for the two seconds it takes for him to start squeezing too hard. Lee's breath grinds a little too tightly in her chest, her arm with the grocery bag stuck out from under his grip at an awkward angle.

"No, it's fine--" She wheezes, and one arm digs upward to try to find purchase on his back. Alastair's voice fades like static crackling in the distance, like the breathless ache after lightning, and Lee isn't too sure...what that means.

His breath against her hair is too hard, though. "Hey." Her hand had been tapping a light, playful reassurance against his back. Now her fingers catch and grip into the fabric of his shirt. "Hey, Alastair-- buddy, what is it?" She'll stay in the game, if that's what they're doing, but concern is starting to pinch her brow and twist her voice.

"...Was I gone too long?"

Alastair is so much taller than Lee, which makes this feel so much more awkward...and it's hard for him not to feel incredibly stupid about what he's feeling right now.

He shakes his head, chin against Lee's hair. "No, you're...you're great." God, it's still so hard for him to call her that word, especially when this is about him dealing with things, and not...just playing.

"You're always great." He means it, because it's true. Alastair still can't figure out why she picked him, the obnoxious shithead. Still can't figure out where all of her patience comes from.

He pulls his arms back and just...slides to the floor, crouched onto his knees. He presses the side of his face into her chest, tilting his head down, hands coming to rest behind her knees. Alastair's shoulders begin to shake, his voice a giggle. "I dunno how you put up with me... How you do all this stuff. For me. I just..."

And then, his tone wavers, goes quieter against Lee's ribs. "...I don't...deserve...a mommy like you."

Lee keeps a hold on him even as he starts sliding down her front, just letting her hand follow him down. The fabric near his shoulder bunches so much it nearly pulls the shirt up to expose his lower back, but neither of them notice or care. They started off not shy about each other's bodies, and it's only gotten more close, more casual, the more days they spend together like this.

It's just that even sharing a living space with Alastair half the time doesn't quite mean that he shares his thoughts with her as often. Not the private thoughts that leave little red weals across his heart, not the ones that he picks over at night when he thinks she's not awake to hear him buzzing around on his phone for a distraction.

Alastair doesn't confront things quite the way Lee does, not when they hurt him. Lee clutches him tight with that first hand, lets the other rest low by her side. She gradually lets the grocery bag drop to the ground, a relatively-soft plop of light boxes of cereal crunching against plastic. "Probably because I like you, silly." She says, as her freed hand goes up to ruffle through impossibly-curly hair. He must've been laying on the couch and rubbing his head back against the cushions all day - it's so thoroughly tangled she can barely get her fingers in there to try to pull through.

Lee makes a small involuntary sound when Alastair says he doesn't deserve her. She knows she shouldn't make a big deal about this for him, knows it can send him back into his protective shell of grinning and making jokes, but it hurts like a punch to the gut. She swallows and lets some of that protective anger steady her voice. "Yes you do. Of course you do."

Lee sinks down now, onto her knees so that she can still be taller than Alastair if Alastair sits back fully onto the ground. "I don't care if you don't always finish your chores, Alastair. I know you'd do it if you were feeling okay." Lee tucks Alastair's head in tighter against her chest, squeezes him there like she's worried he might try to duck away. "I care about you."

A little softer. "...Mommy cares about you."

That's certainly a lovely image to wake up to, Alastair.

I realize I sleep in later than you do - did I miss the rest of the excitement?

lucky for you, life's rather boring when you're not around
I've been keeping myself entertained while you slept in, though
did you want to see more?

Edited 2017-09-06 01:34 (UTC)

I will always enjoy seeing more of you, Alastair. Metaphorically and literally.
Show me.

metaphorically? I wonder what that means
but I can provide in a literal sense
[img.jpg]
wish I could have woken you up myself
but I didn't mind waiting

More of the different facets of you. More of your talents, flaws.

[ Good luck making Hannibal shut up during this, Alastair. You've picked a chatty sugar daddy. ]

It looks as though you had plenty on your mind to keep you occupied while waiting.
Would you care to tell me what it was?
Or would you rather hear what that picture makes me imagine myself doing?

{ to normal people, the most terrifying thing they could hear from Hannibal Lecter would be an oninous and thinly veiled threat concerning themselves and his dinner table.

to Alastair, the most terrifying thing Hannibal could tell him is wanting to see his flaws. }

I'll show you mine if you show me yours ❤️ { okay, that's 1 emoji. Alastair has probably just grazed Hannibal's boundary on his limits for the current conversation. which means Alastair probably still has another two or three uses left, but he will use them smartly. }
I don't doubt what I thought of is not half as exciting as what you're thinking of right now
I'd rather know what seeing me makes you want to do

In time, I'm sure. Let it unfold naturally.

[ It's not unlike Alastair to incite and then lay back and await his deserved responses. His MO might be easy to understand, but that also makes it easy to try to play with the script when Hannibal wants.

Today, he'll let it start the way Alastair is anticipating. ]

What I want to do is watch you, to be completely honest. To see the way your smirk melts into something softer and more internal as you touch yourself.
To see how you regain awareness afterwards, smile sharp at me. The back and forth of you needing to tease both me and yourself.

I enjoy you touching yourself through your clothing first, you know. Would you like to know that I'm doing the same at this moment?

{ one of the best things about Hannibal is his uncanny attention to detail... on one hand, it's pretty nerve wracking to have someone watching your every move, makes mistakes impossible to shrug off. luckily, Alastair moreso appreciates when Hannibal takes such a thorough stock of the things he does, knowing every ounce of his performances for him are being savored. that's all Alastair can hope for, after all. }

can't fault you for not being attentive...I'm impressed.
but not surprised! I would expect you to be so keen on details.
it's nice to be appreciated.

{ 'a work of art', Hannibal once said to him, something that still reverberates through Alastair's mind. whether he truly knows it or not, Hannibal sure knows how to ensnare a person. Alastair is likely aware enough of it, enough to know what that could mean, but it's also likely to be exactly what he also wants. }

are you really?
are you still in bed, since waking up?
all unkempt and sleepy
I'd ask for a pic but I know you'd never be caught dead taking a selfie

{ should Alastair send his own selfie, doe eyes and pouty lip for extra emphasis? }

I have always had a weak spot for beauty that is crafted. For naturally-occurring places or people to have been elevated to more through decisive effort.
You give that eagerly, Alastair. I'm merely a captive audience.

[ It's possible they both think of that moment, here, of Alastair breathing in sharp and deep when Hannibal had leaned over him and told him that.

Hannibal has always been entranced by art, after all. ]

Do you enjoy thinking of myself less prepared? More disheveled?
Is it because you think of it as more genuine?
Or because you enjoy thinking that you distract me so?

I will not send a picture without you asking, Alastair, but I can tell you that yes, I am indeed touching myself. While still in bed. I confess you are a welcome addition to my morning routine.

not less prepared, exactly
I just find you endearing, all unkempt and curled up in bed

{ Alastair is genuinely smirking, close to chuckling to himself. for all that they both enjoy seeing life imitate art, creased lines and ideal framing, seeing Hannibal aesthetically dismantled into something more normal is a treat to see. it's hard to believe that he has to do normal human things, sometimes, as he walks the earth like some Greek god in an expensive suit. }

I also find it pleasant to think of you touching yourself, in bed
knowing you're thinking of me while doing it
funny how similar we act at times
please, for me
show me what you're doing to yourself?

I find myself endeared by the same in yourself.
Perhaps another photo of you in bed, lazily pleasuring yourself?
You said yourself, Alastair, I don't take selfies.

[But Hannibal absolutely plays games. In about two minutes, Alastair will receive a photo. It's Hannibal, from above, showing the way the sheets spill back just low enough that his lap is visible. His black boxer briefs are tight to his body and clearly showcase the half-filled erection beginning to stretch them.

The photo includes only from midway up his covered thighs to just above his navel. Dark hair streaked with white trails down his stomach and disappears beneath the underwear. ]

You are quite the influence on me, it would seem.

yes daddy ❤️
[ img.jpg ]

{ it's often pretty clear when Alastair throws the word around as a jest, and when they're actually delving into that game. half of the time, Alastair flings it out into the ring just to see what will happen. felt appropriate enough.

and -- dear lord. it happened. Alastair didn't think it would have been so easy. he's gotten Hannibal to send him a dick pic. this is definitely him, right? of course it is. Alastair is nearly distracted from what they're both doing by the grand sense of achievement he's feeling right now. he would print this out and frame it if that wouldn't be insane. (it's tempting, though.) }

my god, I can hardly believe my eyes
yet I know that body well enough to know it's true
it's a cruel tease, though, seeing but knowing I can't be there to touch
but would you still have me pleasure myself for you if I were there? perform for you?
knowing that all the while I'd be aching to touch you?

{ Alastair salivates at the thought, hand tightening around his now fully hard cock. he can barely be patient enough to type out responses, and once they are sent, he flicks right back to that picture of Hannibal. }

Tuesday Sexting

Alastair Godwin ⚜️ D&D/modern fantasy OC ⚜️ OTA

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jaws theme commences

heavy breathing

<3

i hope hannibal appreciates the self restraint going on to not send emojis

that is...an EXCELLENT picture, damn son

｡ᵒ̴̵̶̷ ˒̫ ᵒ̴̵̶̷｡

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