Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sophia

“Will,” Hannibal calls him softly. Will makes a sound, but doesn’t look up from his newspaper. “There is something I have to ask you. Do you have a minute?”

“Of course,” Will answers, suddenly curious. It was not habitual for Hannibal to talk like that. “What is going on?”

“I was wondering if it would be okay to have someone for dinner,” Hannibal starts and has to suppress a smile when he sees Will’s expression. “Not the way you are probably thinking, though.”

“What is this even supposed to mean?” Will grumbles, eyebrows up. “Enlighten me.”

“There is this woman - her name is Sophia. I met her a few weeks ago…”

Will swallows hard. “Wait. Where?”

“There is a small, but charming confectionery a few blocks away from here, as you know,” Hannibal says, still soft and calm. He opens the fridge and selects a few ingredients. “Sophia usually goes there in the afternoon and, after meeting me there three or four times, she told me I should invite her over. To have dinner, of course.”

“And what have you said?” Will asks, feeling a little nauseated.

“I said I live with my best friend,” Hannibal smiles gently, looking completely unaffected by his own words. Will doesn’t know why his heart is beating so fast, but he tries his best not to look so nervous. “Who is not very fond of sudden social interactions.”

“She must think I am a great person,” Will coos and Hannibal bites back a compliment. He shouldn’t. He can’t. “But it is okay, I mean… Are you sure it is safe? What if she knows who you are and is about to call the cops?"

“I do not believe this is the case, Will,” Hannibal says, slowly opening a bottle of red wine. Will knows it is barely five o’clock, but he doesn’t say anything. “Will you drink with me?”

“Why not?” He shrugs. Wine was not really his thing, but who cares? His body felt like it needed some good amount of alcohol - and soon. “This… Sophia knows you live with me, then. This is… okay, I suppose. I don’t know if I am being too conspiratorial here - do you think she knows anything about us?”

“I have not asked her about this particular theme, as you can imagine, since it would be very dangerous,” Hannibal hands Will a glass of wine before grabbing his own. They have a toast and soon Hannibal is sipping, looking truly pleased. Will feels a strange weight on his belly to see the other appearing so satisfied with himself. Even more than he usually appeared, anyway. “I do not believe she is the kind of person who takes her time reading about murders and serial killers, though. She is forty-five and a very classy woman - this is a good sign, I presume.”

“Okay,” Will shrugs, taking a sip of his wine as well. He makes a face, disapproving the taste, but keeps on drinking. “What do you expect me to say, then? It looks like you already know what you want to do.”

“I am asking for your permission to bring someone to our house,” Hannibal says, cautious. Will’s body is abnormally hot. “Tomorrow night. Of course you are invited to have dinner and drink with us, I just want to make sure it will not disturb you. It is a known fact that you are not a fan of strangers and we have never brought someone to this house, so I feel I must have your permission to do such a thing. Will you be comfortable with this?”

“Sure, Hannibal,” Will smiles at him, raising his glass in false approval. He is not sure why knowing Hannibal is bringing someone over is so deeply irritating, but he refuses to give it a second thought. In order to shut his mind off, he drinks more and more.

- x -

“Good evening,” Sophia smiles when Hannibal opens the door. He looks just as handsome and classy as he looked in their previous meetings, so she raises an eyebrow and lets out a discrete sound of approval. “Always a gentleman, Draco, aren’t you?”

“Only when I am trying to impress,” Hannibal answers and slowly bends to kiss her cheek. “Please, come in. Can I have your coat?”

“Oh, sure,” she almost closes her eyes when his hands, long and manly, touch her shoulders. He can smell her arousal, but being a patient man was part of his essence. “What is this smell, dear? It is just amazing.”

“This, my darling, is our dinner,” Hannibal says, hanging her coat on the wall. “Mikael helped me choose tonight’s menu. I hope his tastes suit yours.”

“I am pretty sure I will be satisfied, Draco, thank you,” she answers with a hint of flirtation in her voice and Hannibal can’t help but offer her a smirk. It has been so much time since the last time he felt desired - his ego, always so hungry for praise and devotion, had missed being so caressed. “I believe Mikael is okay with me being here, then? I don’t wish to be a problem for you, of course.”

“He is more than okay with it,” Hannibal says. “Shall we go to the dining room?”

When they arrive, Will is there. He and Sophia share a long look - beautiful woman, he thinks. I can’t blame him at all - I’d probably do the same.

“Hello,” she says and he knows she is nervous. He thinks, for a moment, she might have recognized him from a newspaper or magazine. He waits. “Mikael, right? My name is Sophia. I am pleased to meet you. Thank you for letting Draco invite me over.”

“Hello,” he answers, observing her reactions. When her shoulders relax, he knows that she doesn’t know. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Sophia, but I am very… sorry to say I will not be able to have dinner with you tonight. My girlfriend called me and asked me to see her. I know it is very, ahn, rude, but I think it must be something very important.”

He doesn’t miss the way Hannibal frowns. He doesn’t miss the way Sophia’s eyes shine. He knows he will be the third part of something that doesn’t need third parts - and he knows, more than anything, he doesn’t want to see them flirting.

“Are you sure?” Hannibal asks when he comes closer and kisses Sophia on the cheek, murmuring fake apologies. “You have talked to her earlier, haven’t you? Wasn’t she okay?”

“Yes, she was,” Will answers, begging with his eyes for Hannibal to just shut the fuck up. “This is precisely why I believe she must be needing me for something. But don’t worry, Draco, I will be here as soon as I can. Have fun, you two.”

He is not sure why, but he kisses Hannibal's cheek. The latter doesn’t appear to be surprised, but Will knows him way too well. Too much, maybe, he thinks before leaving them behind.

- x -

It is almost two in the morning when Will comes back. He opens the door silently, hoping to God he will not find Hannibal and Sophia on their couch. He sees nothing.

“Are you awake, Draco?” He asks, but no answers comes from the first floor. He closes the door behind himself and sees Sophia’s coat still on the wall. He swallows hard, knowing where they probably are. “Are you here?”

He checks the living room. He checks the dining room. Every plate is clear, every glass is washed. The whole house smells like incense and candles and Will feels like he is about to vomit. In order to kill the terrible taste that now invades his mouth, Will opens the fridge and grabs himself a can of beer.

He is taking a sip when a moan cuts the air.

He freezes in his place, eyes wide. He doesn’t dare moving for a while, waiting for another sound to be heard. When nothing comes, he drinks more.

They are fucking upstairs. They are fucking in Hannibal’s blood red sheets, enjoying the night that is coming through Hannibal’s window, sharing an intimate moment after many glasses of wine and a delicious dinner that used to be Will’s privilege. He shouldn’t be thinking that, but he is. He shouldn’t be thinking that, but that man who is fucking an irritatingly beautiful woman upstairs used to be so enamoured of him he would never, ever try to have sex with anyone else.

Something has changed.

Before he notices, he is opening another can. He takes another sip, mortified by his own thoughts, and decides to head to his own bedroom. He goes upstairs as fast as he can and locks himself into his room, eyes wide and mouth half open. He shouldn’t be thinking all the things he is thinking, but he is.

He sits down and closes his eyes. There is a moment of awkward silence, but the unmistakable sound of skin against skin fills the air soon. Will swallows hard and concentrates on the music their bodies are making together in the next room. So close to him, yet so far - he never felt so distant from Hannibal before. Not even when he was caged. Not even when he went to another country with Bedelia and disappeared. Never.

The cadence of his breath takes him somewhere prettier.

Hannibal’s fingers are pure art. They are not made for mundane things - no, not those fingers. They look incapable of doing anything that is not pretty, erotic or deeply emotional; it’s like they are made for poetry and hours and hours of lazy strokes and beautiful piano songs. Will knows better than that, of course, but there is something about those hands that has always made his knees weak.

Hannibal knows it. Hannibal always knew it. This is the reason he has been touching Will with his fingertips every now and then since the first time they have put their eyes on each other. This is the reason why his hands, so full of blood, always look so desperate to feel Will’s broken, scarred skin.

Will wishes Hannibal would play him like a piano. He doesn’t know why; he just know he wants it. He opens his eyes and stares at the wall. Wet sounds come from the other room and Will’s throat is dry.

He can smell Sophia’s arousal. He can smell and taste everything - it is like he can feel the way Hannibal’s body react when he enters her. How much pleasure he is feeling, how tight she is, how hot is her touch. He knows it all. It is intoxicating, desperate, disgusting and delicious at the same time and he is not sure he was supposed to feel this much.

Hannibal’s fingers enter her softly, caressing her insides, making her even more wet. He bites her neck with his pointed teeth and marks the creamy skin, then he moves to kiss and lick her round breasts. He is not a selfish lover, no. He is one of the best lovers she has ever had. It is like he knows exactly where and how to touch her - it is like he has been starving for a long time and has finally found something good enough to eat.

He curves his fingers; she moans so loud he chuckles and asks her to be quiet. Will is probably downstairs. Will should not be obliged to listen to their fucking - no, not Will, who always look so superior and so full of himself and who masturbates in his bedroom every night, pretending he doesn’t know Hannibal can listen and smell his release. Pretending he doesn’t know Hannibal aches for him and catches fire with the need to lay him down onto his bed and have a feast.

Will is an idiot. Will is a fucking idiot. He makes a displeased sound and gets under the covers of his bed, trying to ignore the way Hannibal’s moves appear to have become faster and stronger. He is pounding into her, he can hear it - he can hear her voice, low and respectful, but obviously aroused. He is silent, though. He is not asking her to moan. He is not asking her to shout his name. He is not asking her to shut up either.

Will never took him for a quiet lover. Again, he doesn’t know why he had thought so many fucking times before about how Hannibal was in bed - bullshit. He knows. He really, really knows. This is why this whole situation feels even more ridiculous than it is, he thinks.

Was it really so much to offer Hannibal his body? He had already given him his soul, his reputation, his life. He knows the man had never asked him to do such a thing, even though he has tried, more than once, to initiate something - it was always sweet, soft and cautious. He was always testing the waters with Will, but of course, of course he would grow tired of it. Hannibal was a very sexual creature - Will knew about all his previous affairs because the good doctor had told him about them himself. He enjoyed men and women, he enjoyed testing people’s limits, he enjoyed hours and hours of good, dirty sex. God, why Will knew that much about Hannibal’s sexual behaviour?

Because he had asked. Many, many times, he had asked. He had seen the way Hannibal’s pupils would get dark every time he started to talk about it and had told him to go on. He had played with his libido and made him anxious and never, ever had the consideration to get on his knees and offer him some relief.

Will shouldn’t be thinking this, but he is. And as he hears a single masculine moan coming from the next room, he knows exactly why he is thinking that much.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Will

When Will gets up, it is because he is tired of fighting his insomnia. He makes a displeased noise and puts on a coat, feeling a little too cold even with the heater on. Trying to warm his hands, he rubs them together and--

He covers her body with his own, still muscular and toned even after all those years and the time he spent without exercising because of the wounds Francis gave him. She doesn’t know why he has got so many scars. She doesn’t know if she believes it when he says he used to be a professional fighter and that he used to be a cop - she doesn’t know him at all, but it doesn’t mind when he has got the body of her dreams, a face to die for, flattering words and a mouth that never gets tired of tasting and teasing her.

He grabs her wrists and kisses her thighs, enjoying the way she presses her legs together in order to obtain some friction. She is an untamed animal and it pleases him, she can see it on his face. He is a man who enjoys wild things and she can’t wait to discover what is under his mask.

Shit.

Apparently, last night’s facts are still singing on his mind, which doesn’t get tired of making the whole thing even worse. He sighs and heads to the door, thanking every entity out here Hannibal and Sophia appear to be still asleep. He can’t help but notice it is almost nine o’clock. It is not common for Hannibal to sleep so much - not that nine o’clock is too much, anyway, but whatever. Will feels happy he can complain as much as he wants in his head.

He goes downstairs slowly, refusing to make himself audible to the other occupants of the house. He doesn’t want to see Hannibal with a fucking hickey on his chest and he definitely doesn’t want to see him and Sophia exchanging happy glances and warm pecks while they make post-coitus breakfast. What if they do this again?, he thinks. What if they turn into a couple?

He opens the fridge and wishes they had overnight pizza somewhere, but that was impossible. Hannibal would never allow them to have this kind of garbage in their sweet, lovely fridge. Human meat was basic, but pizza? God forgives them. The thought makes Will chuckle for a second, but soon he shrugs. He is not sure about what is his function in the strange equation that just took place - but what he has heard, for his entirely life, was that three was trouble.

How will it be when she discovers the truth about who he is? How long until Will is no longer needed? The more he thinks about it, the less it makes sense is his mind. He was never a dramatic person - at least, he never saw himself as a dramatic person. The possibility of losing Hannibal to an enchanting stranger was messing with his head in a way he never thought would happen. Why haven’t I thought about this before? What if it had been me in his position?

Bullshit, again. Hannibal would never allow him to bring anyone home - at least, he doesn’t think Hannibal would. He is not sure anymore. Something clearly changed the way Hannibal felt about him, but Will can’t really say when and how that happened. What if--

“Oh, you’re here,” a female voice takes him off his stupor. Will swallows hard and turns his head to the side. Sophia is there, blonde hair still dirty and full of waves, wearing nothing but one of Hannibal’s shirts. This is a fucking cliché, Will thinks, but doesn’t say. I can’t believe it. “Good morning, Mikael. So, are you an early bird?”

“Sometimes,” he concedes, shrugging. He realizes he’s still standing in front of the fridge and concentrates on finding something interesting to eat. “I am afraid I am not a good cook, so I can’t really offer you a nice breakfast. I can make coffee and, well, there are some hazelnut cookies Han--Draco made yesterday morning.”

“This is perfect,” she answers, still shy. She sits down on a stool a few seconds later, trying to make herself comfortable. “Much better than what I usually eat, believe me. My breakfasts are made of tea and crackers.”

Will offers her a smirk.

“I know how it feels,” he says, finally closing the fridge. He proceeds to make them both coffee, trying to appear calm and collected. “Before we move in together, my breakfasts were even worse than yours. Believe it. Actually, I would never, ever have breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. Whatever.”

“Really? Why?”

“I don’t-- Well, let’s say I was never a good cook. Since I used to work a lot, it was easy to forget the time I was supposed to eat. It happens when you are in the field.”

“In the field?” She raises her eyebrows, appearing to be very curious. Will gets a little tense with the intensity of her gaze. “Were you a researcher or something?”

“Yes,” he nods. “I used to be, ahn, a biologist. Yes. I used to study… plants. And mushrooms. Not really interesting for most people, but fascinating for those who enjoy it. It is easy to lose the track of time when you are there, you know, researching.”

“I see,” she nods, a little less captivated. He is not sure if she believed him, but he is sure she will not be asking anything else about that particular subject anytime soon. “And how exactly you two have met? I am curious. You are American, right? He is from Denmark and, well, you are here in Italy now. Since I am English, I know it is not impossible, but… I’m curious anyway -- sorry, I tend to talk a lot.”

“It’s okay,” Will concentrates on the coffee, enjoying the smell of it. “I went to Denmark to study and met him. We had this friend in common, you know. We just got really close and started living together. In Denmark. After some time, I… Honestly, I’m not sure how it all happened. I told him I was bored and wanted to change my life and he invited me to leave with him.”

“And that is it?” Once again, she looked curious. “You just left everything behind to live with a friend?”

“I have no family, I have no kids… It looked like a nice idea,” Will lies, proud of himself for being able to create such a narrative. “I sold my car and used my savings to come here.”

“It’s impressive,” Sophia says, offering him a smile. “You are a very brave man, Mikael. Are you still working as a Biologist?”

“No, I’m…”

“Teaching kids,” Hannibal says, entering into the kitchen. Will swallows hard, disturbed by the fact that Hannibal reeked of sex. “He is such a lovely person, isn’t it? Mikael has been giving kids particular classes.”

Will sends him a deadly stare and Hannibal just chuckles, obviously finding the situation very amusing. He comes closer to Sophia and gives her a kiss on the cheek, sweet and respectful. Will feels deeply uncomfortable for the tenth time since last night.

“You two are lovely,” Sophia says, smiling to him. “Good morning, by the way. Mikael is preparing us breakfast.”

“Is he now?” Hannibal raises his eyebrows, teasing Will, who just swallows hard and says nothing. “This is a miracle, you see, Sophia. He doesn’t cook - it’s me who makes us breakfast every day. He is trying to impress you.”

“Actually, I’m just making coffee”, Will shrugs, looking down. “I’ve only offered her your hazelnut cookies, which means that, well… Technically, you cooked breakfast. Again. Smartass.”

“Rude,” Hannibal says, but there is no trace of annoyance in his voice. He comes close to Will and, softly, kisses his cheek. “Good morning, by the way. I will make us three a nice breakfast, Mikael, so please… Sit down.”

Feeling the weight of Hannibal’s lips on his cheek - in a gesture that was not usual for them -, Will obliges him.

- x -

“It was ridiculous,” Will says, throwing himself on their sofa. Hannibal chuckles and closes his book, offering Will his attention. “Teaching kids? Really?”

“Do you feel emasculated?” Hannibal jokes. Will frowns and throws a pillow at him. “Don’t worry. I am certain that she believed it - you don’t look like a biologist at all.”

“You should have given me a story to tell,” Will mumbles, covering his eyes. “I had no idea what I was supposed to say.”

“I heard you,” Hannibal offers Will a smirk, full of affection once again. Will swallows hard. “You did great, Will. You looked calm all the time. I never really took you for a liar, but you are getting better at it.”

“Is this supposed to be flattering?” Will gives him a small smile, staring openly at his face.

“Of course.”

“I have a great teacher,” Will says. Hannibal’s eyebrows shoot up. “You said it is flattering. React like it is.”

“It is,” Hannibal shrugs. “Healthy is not exactly a word for us.”

“No, not really,” Will agrees, licking his lips. He looks down, knowing Hannibal is watching him. “How was that?”

“Excuse me?”

“How was that?” Will repeats, slowly and unsure. “How did it feel to have sex with someone after so much time?”

“Good,” Hannibal answers, eyes fixed on Will’s face. “I was worried I might have forgotten how to do it, but apparently some things are unforgettable.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Silence falls upon them. Hannibal watches him in wonder and admires the way Will swallows hard, but tries to appear cool about what he has just asked. Hannibal fixes his own hair, clears his throat and sits down correctly before finally giving him an answer.

“What do you want to know?”

This is it. This is the greatest question of all. Will licks his lips and touches his curls, visibly nervous. Hannibal wants to smile, but he will not - he knows better than to tease Will in such a moment.

Will is jealous. He can smell the jealousy in him and it makes him so entirely happy he should be ashamed, but he is not capable of such a thing. He mimics Will’s gesture and licks his own lips, loving the fact that Will’s cheeks are turning brighter and brighter as the seconds go.

“Does it bother you?” Will asks, then, starting to regret his own boldness. Hannibal is looking at him like he was something he would love to devour and it is hard, it is really hard, not to just remove his jacket and find a way to sit on his lap. Will rubs his face slowly, trying to tame his thoughts. “I’m just curious. I kind of… heard it.”

“What have you heard?”

“You two having sex, of course,” Hannibal chuckles, enjoying Will’s clumsiness. He crosses his legs. “For a long time.”

“Indeed,” Hannibal answers. “I am a man of patience, as you know.”

“I am surprised to know you use your patience when it comes to fucking, actually,” Will darts out. His face burns. “Or do you prefer the term “making love”?”

“Fucking is good,” Hannibal offers him a smile that is all teeth and mischief. Will wants to scream. “Making love is a very romantic expression, of course, but I am not very fond of it. I tend to be more into violence and hair pulling and powerful orgasms.”

Will bites back a moan.

“But I have already told you about it before,” Hannibal says, nonchalant. “Nothing that you haven’t heard of me before, I suppose. What do you really want to know, Will? Small talk is something that doesn’t fit you.”

“How did it feel?” Will asks immediately. “Is she a good lover?”

“Yes. What else?”

“Did her touch make you hard?”

“Very much.”

“Why?”

“Because I enjoy being touched,” Hannibal answers, so honest Will feels he has been hit in the face. He closes his hands in fists. “And I appreciate the fact she recognizes I am not a normal man. I am stronger, more capable and smarter than others - I have no need to be modest with you, Will. Does it bother you to know having sex with someone who recognizes the deity in me is satisfying to my ego?”

“You are very narcissistic, do you know that, right?” Will mumbles. Hannibal chuckles.

“So are you, my dear,” Hannibal purrs, visibly satisfied. “We all want to be recognized and desired for what we are. These things give us power.”

“Do I make you powerless?”

Hannibal looks, for the first time in the evening, completely surprised. Will gives himself a mental compliment for being able to make Hannibal Lecter speechless, even if for just a few seconds.

“No,” Hannibal answers and narrows his eyes. “You recognize me as your equal.”

“Is she your equal?”

“You know it is not possible,” Hannibal watches him carefully, mouth slightly open. Those teeth, Will knows, could kill him in the blink of an eye. “She doesn’t know what I am really capable of.”

“Do I?”

Hannibal licks his lips. Will has the impression he can taste blood.

“Rhetoric question, I suppose,” Hannibal says.

“Was it her who made the first move?” Will asks, crossing his legs. Hannibal can’t help but admiring the way his thighs, strong and round, rub against each other. “Or was it you?”

“What do you think?”

“I think it was her,” Will plays with a long curl of hair, enjoying the way Hannibal is studying him like he was seeing something he had never seen before. Good. “You are a teaser. You probably shot her heated looks the whole evening, but refused to start anything. It is smart, you know. You made her think she had power over you.”

“Everything in the world is about sex, except sex,” Hannibal smiles. “Sex is about power”.

“Who said that?”

“Some writer,” Hannibal shrugs. “People say it is Oscar Wilde’s, but it seems too anachronic.”

Will can’t help but laugh.

“So you fuck to control?”

“Oh, dear Will,” Hannibal looks like a cat, so content and proud Will thinks he may be about to lick himself. “I fuck because it makes me feel powerful, of course, but I also fuck because I love making people beg - it is incredibly erotic to watch them come undone for me.”

Will can’t breathe.

“Mainly, I fuck because it is good. It is satisfying. I enjoy it when I come hard, when I feel their taste and when I mark and hurt their skin,” Hannibal closes his eyes, deeply aroused by the conversation. Will’s heart is beating so fast he is scared Hannibal can listen to it. “Devouring people is something that pleases me in more ways than one.”

“Did she taste good?”

“Yes.”

“How good?”

“Good enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I made her come thrice with my mouth and fingers,” Hannibal says, smug. Will looks aroused and angry at the same time, which pleases him a lot. “And once with my cock.”

“Did she like it?”

“What do you think?” Hannibal licks his lips again and smirks, obviously teasing Will. Will wants to punch him in the face.

“I think she did,” Will answers. “Did she suck you off?”

“Why are you so interested in it?”

“Call  me curious,” Will grumbles. “Did she suck you off?”

“Yes.”

“Was it good?”

“Good enough.”

“What the fuck does it mean, Hannibal?”

“It means it was pleasurable,” Hannibal shrugs. “Do you want me to describe the act itself? I suppose you know how oral sex works.”

“Tell me.”

Hannibal’s member is pulsing inside of his well-tailored pants. Will’s member, covered in very tight pants, is so hard it hurts. They don’t move.

“Very well,” Hannibal agrees. He straightens up in his chair. “She put her mouth around me and sucked lightly before letting go of me. She is a teaser, so she took her time. She kissed, licked and teased the tip until it was leaking on her tongue, then she started sucking me off really hard. She enjoys it as much as I do.”

“As you enjoy being sucked off?”

“As I enjoy sucking cock.”

Will almost coughs, so hard he think he may be about to come on his pants like a stupid teenager. He takes a deep breath.

“Why do you like it?”

“Because it is delicious.”

“Fuck, Hannibal.”

“What?” Hannibal shows him his teeth again, visibly amused. This is hardly the first time Will and him talk about sex, but this is the first time he knows Will is imagining everything - more than that, he is desiring everything. “Have you ever performed such an act, Will?”

“No.”

“A straight man, aren’t you?”

“Very.”

Hannibal swallows down his need to laugh, not wanting to destroy such an emblematic moment of their relationship. If he had known Will would be so affected by knowing he was having sex with other people, he would have done that before.

“Of course,” Hannibal says, eyes travelling down Will’s torso openly. The latter freezes, eyes wide in return. “Why are you so interested in knowing what happened last night?”

“Is this a crime now?”

“No, it is not,” Hannibal answers. “I didn’t come in her mouth.”

“Why?”

“Because I am patient man,” Hannibal stares at him intently once again. “We come so much harder when we wait.”

“Why were you so silent?”

Hannibal’s hand close into a fist. Will feels like a winner.

“Why were you listening?”

“Because my room is next to yours.”

“Does it bother you?”

“What if it does?”

“I shall not bring her here anymore,” Hannibal says, lazy and falsely worried. Will hates him. Will hates him so much. “I will fuck her on her own sheets. Maybe it’s better, right?”

“So you plan to fuck her again.”

“Tomorrow night, actually,” Hannibal purrs. “Will you want to know more about it too?”

“I don’t know.”

“Think about it,” Hannibal says before standing up. Will can’t help but notice the bulge in his pants and his mouth fucking waters. “Excuse me, Will. I must take care of some urgent matters. I will be in my room. Good night.”

As he leaves, Will thinks about calling his name. He doesn’t. He waits. And waits.

The house is maddening silent when he finally stands up and goes to his own room.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Hannibal

He sits down on the sofa and turns on their huge television. Hannibal doesn’t really like it, but Will has insisted so much on buying one that he, defeated, agreed. He taps his fingers on the leather of the couch, makes a sound of impatience and stares, for the tenth time, at the door. Still no sign of him.

Hannibal left twelve hours before. He had never been away for so long, even though it’s not that much. Will knows it. Rationally, he really does. His mind, however, refuses to be reasonable.

He stands up and goes to the kitchen. He opens the fridge, stares blankly at it and decides that his beers will not do. In a personal act of revenge, he closes the fridge, walks to Hannibal’s wine cellar and steals a bottle of one of his favorite wines. He smiles proudly at himself as he opens it and makes a terrible face when he finally tastes it.

“Jesus fuck,” he murmurs to himself as he crosses the house and throws himself on the sofa again. He drinks directly from the bottle, not caring about the fact that Hannibal will probably rip him open with a pen.

Twenty minutes pass before he hears the sound of the front door being open. He tries his best to look nonchalant and unaware of his presence, but Hannibal sees when he shifts his position on the sofa.

“It’s barely ten o’clock, Will,” Hannibal says, but he is not upset. He smirks and closes the door behind himself. Once again, he reeks of sex in a way that is both inviting and way too obscene. Will swallows hard and stares at him. “I was not aware that you enjoy French wine, but this is a good surprise. I would suggest using a glass, though. It makes the experience much more interesting.”

“I will try it the next time,” Will promises, smirking. Hannibal chuckles and comes closer. He holds out his hand, asking Will to hand him the bottle.

As soon as he holds it, he takes a sip of it. Will’s mouth hangs open as he observes the movement of his Adam’s apple and the aggressive hickey that stands proud next to his jugular.

“This experience is nice, too,” Hannibal concedes, handing Will the bottle again. The latter grabs it, still mesmerized by the whole scene. “Did you sleep? You look kind of tired. Are you in need of something?”

“I think so,” Will murmurs. “Maybe I need breakfast.”

“You haven’t eaten, then,” Hannibal raises his eyebrows, disapproving the information. “Why not, Will? Did you sleep, at least?”

“You weren’t here and I can’t cook to save my life, I’m sorry to inform you,” Will mumbled, rubbing his eyes like a spoiled child. Hannibal suppresses a smirk. “And yes, I’ve slept. Kind of. Actually, I spent the night on the sofa because I was watching a nice movie and sleep found me here. My back hurts as hell.”

“Okay,” Hannibal answers, still finding it hard not to smile. He offers his hand to Will, who grabs it without thinking. “Let’s have breakfast, Will. You should not be drinking with an empty stomach. Are you drunk?”

“No, just a little dizzy,” he shrugs and stands up with Hannibal’s help. “Half a bottle, only. I’m stronger than that.”

“I’m sure,” Hannibal says and turns his back on him. Then, he walks towards the kitchen.

Will is quick to follow him.

- x -

“How was it?” Will finally asking. To keep his mouth occupied, he shoves a fork inside of it and stares at Hannibal, looking half angry and half anxious.

Hannibal, ever so calm, eats his piece of strawberry pancake slowly. He observes the other man for a while, appreciative - how come he is so beautiful? - and delighted with the possibility of being the sudden object of his sexual interest.

“Better than before,” he answers, almost uninterested. “Which movie did you watch last night?”

“Death Proof”, Will bites his bottom lip, so jealous his heart feels like it is twisting. “How many hours?”

“Six.”

“Bullshit,” Will groans and Hannibal laughs, eating another forkful of his breakfast, made even more delicious by Will’s obvious annoyance. “No fucking way. You’re almost fifty.”

“So?” Hannibal raises an eyebrow and licks his fork slowly, ignoring how the gesture raises the hairs down Will’s arms. “Just like I have told you before, Will, I’m not like the others. I do not be mean to be smug, though.”

“Nothing new,” Will mumbles, drinking half of his glass of orange juice. The wine is still in his system, but he feels far from drunk. “Tell me more.”

“Give me a reason.”

Will stops. He blinks, visibly surprised with the question. Hannibal observes him and almost sighs - he never gets tired of watching that face. He never gets tired of his luscious mouth, his perfect nose, those ridiculously blue pair of eyes.

There is a small dot of strawberry jam on Will’s bottom lip. Hannibal wishes he could lick it clean many, many times. He coughs, concentrating again on their conversation. Will rubs his eyes with his fingertips, trying to get himself some time to think.

“What would be reason enough for you?” He asks, cautious.

“The truth.”

“What do you think is the truth?”

Hannibal offers him a malicious smile. “I believe you jerk off to this.”

Will freezes. “Excuse me?”

“You jerk off to this,” Hannibal repeats, dirty. Will swallows hard, mortified by Hannibal’s bluntness. “How long has it been since the last time you had a decent fuck, Will? A decent one. Not even your last. No, tell me your last as well. Quid pro quo.”

Will narrows his eyes, tense. Hannibal doesn’t move; he just stay there, immobile and smirking like a cat who got the cream.

“The last time I had sex was with Molly, as you know,” he grunts. Hannibal doesn’t look pleased, but he says nothing. “The last time I had great sex, well… It’s different after some time. I kind of turned into Walter’s father and--”

“And you stopped fucking like rabbits, I presume,” Will chokes on his saliva, eyes wide and cheeks painted in red. Hannibal bends over the desk, watching him with the eyes of a predator. “How was that? The last time you had great sex? If you can remember, of course, since it has been so long.”

“Stop mocking me,” Will darts out and Hannibal’s smile gets even wider. It wasn’t usual, but Will has no time to think about what that means. “It was good. We had just got married. We spent three or four hours together, kissing and licking and sucking each other like there was nothing else outside our bedroom.”

“Did she suck you off?”

“Yes.”

“Was it good?”

“Perfect.”

Hannibal shows him his teeth, his expression one of disbelief. “‘Perfect’? What a strong adjective. How many people have sucked your cock in your life, Will?”

“A few.”

“How many?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, Hannibal. This is insane,” Will growls, visibly shocked by the vulgarity of their conversation. He doesn’t want to, but his member is starting to ache inside of his pants. Fuck.

“Count.”

It takes Will a few minutes to concentrate and really think about Hannibal’s demand. He closes his eyes and silently starts to count, to remember, to feel once again. He shouldn’t. Not when his blood is heating, when his hands are starting to sweat and his face is so red his arousal is evident. He shouldn’t, but he can’t stop himself.

“Six.”

Hannibal’s eyebrows almost reach his hairline. Will covers his face, visibly ashamed.

“Don’t mock me.”

“I will not,” Hannibal promises, so aroused he thinks his desire may be leaving his body in waves. He swallows the need to get on his knees and give Will the best blowjob he has ever had and just nods. “All women, of course?”

“Yes.”

“Never a casual thing, I suppose.”

“No,” Will says, shaking his head. “I don’t like it.”

“You like feelings, promises,” Hannibal teases, but he is not mocking him. Will’s hands are fists. “Making love, maybe?”

“I don’t like this expression as well,” Will mumbles. “Sex was always about being recognized, desired and about feeling pleasure. Also, I… It’s easier for me to let go of other things when I am having sex. I feel a lot. A lot, really. When people suck me off, I kind of… This is ridiculous, but I feel their pleasure or disgust or anything. If they want me, if they like it, I can feel it. Molly liked it.”

“She used to make you come hard, then.”

“Very hard.”

“And would you fuck her really hard too?”

“No,” Will swallows hard, nervous. “It would be intense, but not very rough or wild or… violent. Well, I don’t know why. It was delicious, sweet even and sometimes it would be really erotic, but never really rough.”

“You were scared.”

“What?”

“You were scared to hurt her,” Hannibal concludes, watching him behind almost closed eyelids. He feels jealous. He shouldn’t, he knows it - Will is here with him, isn’t he? -, but he can’t stop himself. “You were scared to lose control and hurt her because you know there is a lot of violence and desire and despair and lust inside of you. You were scared to forget who she was.”

“Maybe.”

“You were.”

“There is a big possibility this is true,” Will says, not willing to lie to himself. His throat felt dry. “Quid pro quo.”

“She came four times again,” Hannibal shrugs. “Not once on my cock, though.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Maybe because we spent most of the time just exploring with hands and tongues,” Hannibal’s voice is so soft Will thinks he might be lying. “Many hours of lazy sucking and fingering.”

“So you’ve fingered her. A lot.”

“And she has fingered me,” Hannibal completes. “A lot."

“She is a very modern lady,” Will swallows hard, trying to ignore the fact his pants are tight as hell. He thinks he might be about to come. He thinks about shoving his hand inside and about offering Hannibal a show.

He can’t. He is still trying to understand what the hell is going on.

“No, Will,” Hannibal smirks. “You are a very old man.”

“No, not really.”

“Are you a conservative when it comes to the bedroom?” Hannibal teases him, crossing his legs. His hard-on hurts a little, but he can ignore it for a little longer. “Do you fuck with your eyes closed or with the lights off?”

“No,” Will looks displeased with the insinuation. “I accept many things. I like many things. And, well, I’m always willing to learn. I just… I was never fingered by a girl. I’ve never had the curiosity because this was not something - gosh. You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Hannibal nods. “Our society tends to turn pleasure into something ugly. It is comprehensible that you have never tried to do it - I must say, though, I believe you would like it. It is very good.”

“Maybe someday.”

Hannibal stops breathing for a second. They look at each other for a few seconds and none of the two dares to make a move. Will is the first to break the silence - and he does it by coughing and looking down.

“How many times did you come?”

“Two.”

“Both of them inside her?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Hannibal chuckles, licking his lips.

“I will leave it to your imagination, Will,” Hannibal answers. “Now, let me wash our dishes.”

As Hannibal stands up, Will takes a deep breath.

“You are hard,” Will says. Hannibal stops and fixes his eyes on him.

“Yes.”

“Again.”

He smirks. “Yes. And so are you.”

Will doesn’t know how to answer. His face is hot, his body is hot - he may be about to burst, for all that he knows, and he doesn’t give a fuck. Hannibal takes a deep breath and, as the smell of Will’s arousal gets stronger, it gets harder to control himself.

He observes the way Will twists his fingers. He observes the way he doesn’t know how to act, still fighting with all the thoughts and feelings that have washed his body in the last days. He can wait. He was waited for so long. He didn’t even know he still had a chance, even though there was always hope. He can wait. He will.

“Will you see her again soon?” Will asks suddenly.

“Tonight.”

“Why so early?”

“Because her husband will come back from a work trip tomorrow morning.”

Will chokes on the last piece of his pancake.

“What the fuck?” He asks, eyes wide. “Is she married?”

“She has been married for ten years,” Hannibal smirks, enjoying the way he can see the raw emotion in Will’s face. “A woman like her, Will, frankly… She has a hunger that is quite interesting.”

“I wasn’t expecting it,” Will confesses, trying hard not to laugh. He doesn’t even know why he wants to laugh so desperately. “She never fails to impress.”

“True,” Hannibal says, and this is honest. “This is why I’ll visit her tonight. We will have to make it worth, don’t you think so?”

As Hannibal moves away, Will can’t help but agree.

- x -

Nine o’clock. Will, with his hair still wet from a hot shower, is drinking again from one of Hannibal’s bottles when he hears his footsteps coming down the stairs. He shoots him a glance, daring him to say anything about the fact Will is, once again, drinking his expensive wine.

“I’m sure you will get addicted to it,” Hannibal says, sweet. “Good night, Will. Try to sleep.”

“Are you going to Sophia’s house?” Will asks, standing up slowly. He takes a sip of the wine and watches as Hannibal’s eyes travel down his body. “You’re smelling really good.”

“Thank you,” Hannibal smirks. “And yes, I am.”

“Will you fuck her?”

Hannibal swallows hard, enjoying the way Will is looking at him.

“Yes.”

“Hard?”

“There is -- yes, probably,” Hannibal never stutters. Ever.

“Fuck me instead.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Them

Hannibal takes a moment to understand what Will has just said. When he finally does, he crosses the room, grabs him by his flannel shirt and kisses his mouth, which tastes of wine, strawberries and sin, like he was starving for it. And he was.

When their tongues meet, Will lets out a moan, melting in Hannibal’s arms. The latter grunts, grabbing him by waist and shoving his other hand in the confusion of Will’s black curls. One of Will’s hands still holds the wine, but the other tentatively goes to Hannibal’s face, which he caresses with his fingertips.

It’s a slow exploration; neither of them want to stop. They create a slow and erotic rhythm, enjoying the way they have to learn how to fit to each other and loving the possibility of tasting saliva, desire and promises. It has been so long. So fucking long, Hannibal knows it well. Years and years before this collision, days and days before Will’s true surrender. He would have waited even more.

When they finally part, Will is flushed and panting. He licks his own lips, now swollen and wet, and offers Hannibal a shy smile. There he is. Hannibal thinks. Never fails to amaze me.

“Would you like some wine?” Will asks, slow and soft. Hannibal’s hand find its way under his shirt and he caresses the skin of Will’s back with his fingertips. The boy almost closes his eyes, overwhelmed. He feels everything. He feels Hannibal’s desire for him inside of his body, deep into his veins, like it was crawling under his skin and conquesting every territory.

“I want everything,” Hannibal answers, still close to him, mouth almost touching Will’s lips. He wants to kiss him until he forgets his name. He wants to lick, suck and bite his bottom lip until the younger man is aroused and kissing, licking and biting him back. He wants so many things, all at once, but he is a patient man. He has always been a patient  man. “Why don’t we take this bottle with us to my bedroom, Will?”

“What if we drop wine in your expensive sheets?” Will teases him and offers him a smile that is pure teeth and a hint of defiance. Hannibal cocks an eyebrow, enjoying his newly acquired wit. “Will you be mad at me?”

“I can do laundry tomorrow,” he says, slowly scratching Will’s back with his nails, short but sharp. Will swallows hard, visibly unused to being touched like that. Hannibal craves him in a way that is certainly not healthy, but they couldn’t be healthy even if they tried. There was something about both of them that was intoxicating, dirty and so wrong it was irresistible.

“Would you let her destroy your sheets?” Will asks.

“Will,” Hannibal says, his voice a warning. Will chuckles.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Good,” Will purrs, visibly satisfied. He kisses Hannibal’s jaw. “I bet you let her destroy your back, though. And I still can see the hickey she left on your neck.”

“You can mark me anywhere,” Hannibal promised, enjoying the way Will’s stubble felt against his skin. “And how many times you desire.”

“I will,” he says, biting a little too violently. Hannibal bites back a moan, surprised by the sudden reaction. “Did you think of me?”

“When?”

“When you were with her,” Will raises his eyebrows, interested. “Did you think of me? Did you smell me when you were nose deep in her hair?”

“No.”

There is a moment of silence. Will doesn’t know what to say.

“She is not you,” Hannibal says, then. “Your place is yours only. I would never let anyone else invade it.”

“I hate you,” Will murmurs and swallows hard, already overwhelmed. “There is no way to reach you.”

Hannibal chuckles and bends to kiss Will again. The younger man makes a weak sound of protest, but kisses him back.

They part to find a way to go upstairs. Hannibal leads, bringing Will with him by the hand, almost afraid he would change his mind and run away. Will, observing him, can’t help but wonder how they have got themselves in such a situation.

“So long,” Hannibal murmurs when they reach the bedroom, closing the door behind them for absolutely no reason. Will is about to make a funny comment about it, but Hannibal’s stare makes him speechless. “I have been dreaming about this, Will, for so long.”

“I know,” Will answers and takes another sip of the bottle of wine he still holds. Hannibal observes him, enamoured. “Drink with me.”

He obliges and grabs the bottle Will offers him. The latter smiles, enjoying the situation and the fact he has got so much power.

Everything is about sex - sex is about power.

“Isn’t your lover waiting for you?” Will teases. Hannibal’s gaze is still sharp in his direction. “Are you going to let her alone and horny, waiting for you in a king bed? So rude of you, Hannibal.

“My lover,” Hannibal purrs. “What an interesting change of status - from affair to lover.”

“Is this far from the truth?” Will asks and drinks a little more. Hannibal steals the bottle from his hand.

“Stay sober,” Hannibal orders and Will almost comes on the stop, mortified by his body reactions. Hannibal puts the bottle on his nightstand and comes near him again, grabbing him by his buttoned shirt. “I don’t want you to be drunk while we do this.”

“While we do what?”

“Know each other,” Hannibal smirks and starts to unbutton Will’s shirt slowly, loving how the skin of his hairless chest feels against his fingers. “Intimately.”

“More than we already do?” Will sighs and looks at his face, finally surrendering. Hannibal looks amazed by what he sees and stops his movements for a while.

They don’t move. Will breaks their stillness by touching Hannibal’s shirt and rubbing his hand slowly against his chest, getting familiarized with it. The older man swallows hard - something so unnatural for a creature like him - and admires Will’s beauty.

The moon is full outside and shining so much it fills the whole bedroom.

Will’s becoming has reached its peak.

“I must warn you,” Hannibal says slowly and proceeds to remove Will’s shirt. “I don’t like to share.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Will mocks him and laughs when Hannibal stares at him, deadly cold. “I’m also used to this kind of stare, Hannibal. You’ll have to create something more effectiv-- fuck!”

One of Hannibal’s hand went to the front of Will’s trousers and cupped his crotch firmly. The younger melts, almost closing his eyes - it’s been such a long time since he has been touched. It’s been forever since he felt something like that.

Has he ever felt something like that?

He is not sure.

He can taste Hannibal’s satisfaction on his tongue. He can smell Hannibal’s hunger in the air. Their need for each other is solid in the atmosphere, threatening to suffocate them. Will doesn’t care. He doubts Hannibal cares. Fuck, he is pretty sure the other is loving it.

“Where is your wicked tongue right now?” Hannibal chuckles, feeling the hardness of Will’s cock against his hand and controlling himself not to swallow hard again.

“I know where I want your wicked tongue to go,” Will pants, half amused and half desperate. His shirt is open, revealing his chest to Hannibal’s interested eyes, but he can’t concentrate on anything but the steady pressure on his crotch.

“Where?”

“Everywhere,” Will almost moans. “All night.”

“So demanding,” Hannibal purrs. His hand leaves Will’s crotch and his mouth waters - the smell of Will’s arousal is getting stronger and stronger. “This is a side of you I truly appreciate, Will. I am pretty sure you know it, though.”

“You like it when I am lost,” Will says, but there is no accusation is his voice. He opens the last buttons of Hannibal’s shirt and smiles when he sees his body. It is definitely manly, but he doesn’t mind. He enjoys it in all of its harshness - Hannibal is made of hard angles and scars and body hair and all these things shouldn’t be so enticing, but they are. “You like it when I realize, over and over again, you are my exception.”

“I do.”

“I know,” Will sighs. “Take me to bed.”

“As you wish, sir,” Hannibal smiles and Will chuckles, letting the other man conduce him.

When they fall onto the bed, their shirts are nowhere to be seen. They kiss a little more, enjoying this new possibility, and touch everywhere they can reach.

“You are ridiculous,” Will mutters, tracing the curve of Hannibal’s delicious back with his fingertips. He makes a pleased sound when Hannibal shivers. Fucking shivers. “How come you feel so good? Unfair.”

“Heterosexuality is fragile,” Hannibal gasps and chuckles when Will rolls his eyes. “Masculinity is just a--”

“Stop,” Will grunts and sticks his nails into Hannibal’s back. The older man moans and Will almost forgets what he was about to say. Almost. He would not lose such a chance. “Not a good time to lecture me on society’s stupid standards.”

“Do this again,” Hannibal threatens him, eyes small and full of intent. “And I will not take responsibility for my own acts.”

“A masochist,” Will sighs. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Would you have me any other way?” Hannibal grins. Will looks like he is about to punch him.

“You’re totally ruining the mood,” Will jokes, but Hannibal frowns.

“We can’t have it,” Hannibal shakes his head. “Let me correct it.”

He kisses Will’s mouth softly again, enjoying how the boy sighs against his lips. He gives Will’s bottom lip a small bite, chuckling when the younger man lets out a very, very polite whine.

Slowly, Hannibal goes down. He kisses Will’s jaw and licks his skin, loving its taste. He is not wearing any cologne, for what Hannibal is very grateful. Will sighs, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of being touched again. It has been so long. It has been forever.

Hannibal touches him like he is sacred. He doesn’t doubt that Hannibal really does believe that he is. This perception makes his heart burn and he is not sure he can take it. It’s too much, it’s too overwhelming - but he wants more. He wants so much more.

Hannibal’s lips meet Will’s hairless chest. He kisses it, letting his tongue caress the softness of his derm. Will’s hands are still on his back, but now they are gentle and explorative instead of firm and aggressive. Hannibal knows that, even though Will feels comfortable with him, this situation is very new to him. He doesn’t mind. He is patient. He can do kindness and he can do sweetness and he can spend hours and hours learning, relearning and showing. Hell, if Will wanted to lay there and just let him do it without any reciprocation, he wouldn’t mind it at all. He could find satisfaction in Will’s labored breath alone.

“Does it feel good?” He asks. He knows the answer. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” Will murmurs, eyes still closed. He swallows hard when Hannibal’s teeth find his one of his nipples and presses his fingertips into his shoulders. “Very.”

Hannibal nips on the little nub gently, chuckling when Will almost jumps. He puts one of his hands on Will’s crotch again, loving the fact it is still very hard. The younger man moans and presses himself against Hannibal, begging to be touched more intimately. Hannibal makes a sound of reprimand and proceeds to lick Will’s nipple slowly, giving him time to appreciate the new feeling.

“Teaser,” Will whispers and lets his hands go to Hannibal’s hair. “Hours wait for me.”

Hannibal doesn’t stop his actions to give him a proper answer. He goes to Will’s other nipple and repeats the previous gestures. His hand is still immobile and he pretends he doesn’t feel the way the boy twists and turns, trying to get himself some relief. He moans in frustration when Hannibal lets go of his nipple to suck a dark mark on his chest and grabs him by the hair. Hannibal groans, aroused by the gesture.

Will doesn’t have the power to say anything. He pants and opens his eyes, watching Hannibal’s face and the way his lips are shining with saliva. He brings him close to himself to kiss him wildly, desperate to feel him all over his body - he shouldn’t be feeling this much, but he is. Surprised by Will’s eagerness, Hannibal kisses him back and presses his hand harder against the front of his trousers. Will bites his bottom lip in reprimand and produces a sound of pure delight.

“Fuck you,” he mutters, mouth so close to Hannibal’s that their lips touch when he curses. “Give me more.”

“I will,” Hannibal chuckles, so deeply satisfied Will wants to bite him hard enough to bleed. He would like that, though, so it wouldn’t really be a punishment. Will shakes his head and tries hard not to laugh. “It was you who brought me back up here.”

“Sorry, sir,” Will purrs. Hannibal’s eyes get wide. Of course he would like that. “Please, go ahead.”

Hannibal sighs and obliges him. Giving him a small peck on the lips, he slips down his body to meet Will’s scar - the one he gave him so long ago. He touches it gently with his lips, like he was apologizing for it, then he proceeds to lavish it with his tongue. Will wants to close his eyes, wants to surrender to the feeling, but he is mesmerized by Hannibal’s figure. Even like that, he looks elegant and so above everything. It is not fair, indeed.

Hannibal’s hands go to the waistband of his trousers. Will stops breathing as the older man slowly removes it from him, leaving him only with his black boxer briefs. Hannibal smiles when he sees the perfect outline of his member and sends him a wicked look. Will’s cheeks get way too hot.

“This is better than I have expected,” Hannibal teases, bending to rub his face on Will’s inner thigh, making him spread his legs a little more. “Much better.”

“So you have been thinking about this?” Will asks, but he knows this is a stupid question. Hannibal offers him an open smile, visibly amused.

“Of this and much more,” Hannibal concedes and caresses Will’s skin with his open palms. His eyes are once again the eyes of a killer, but Will is not scared. He couldn’t be. “Can I remove it now, Will?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you,” he says, and it is honest. Will sighs and helps him.

There is a moment of silence as Hannibal discards the piece of clothing on the floor. They stare at each other for a long time, sharing thoughts and sensations. Will looks vulnerable and so does Hannibal. It is rare. It reminds them of that time when they were together, holding each other tight, just before the fall. It is another surrender. This is a whole new becoming.

Will takes a deep breath.

Hannibal bends to kiss the “V” of his hips, satisfied. He is not as thin as he used to be, which pleases him a lot. He has been feeding him well. He has been taking care of him. He sighs.

Slowly, he brushes his lips on Will’s cock. The boy’s breath is already erratic, which is enough to bring Hannibal one step closer to orgasm. The older man has to concentrate on not coming as he traces Will’s cock with his tongue, enjoying its texture and the pulse of it. Will’s hands grab the hair of his nape and he lets out a grunt, already leaking. He is not usually like that, not really - he usually takes a lot of time to be that hard, but now he is afraid he might come really soon. He tries his best not to circle his hips, wanting the feeling to last.

Eyes up and fixed on Will’s face, Hannibal opens his mouth and takes him in. The boy moans and bites his bottom lip, eyes wide and face painted in red. One of his hands leave the other man’s strands to search for Hannibal’s hand and soon their fingers are intertwined.

Intimately.

Hannibal’s mouth envelops him completely. He sucks hard when he reaches the tip, moaning around it when he feels Will’s taste, strong and addictive, on his palate. He darts his tongue out to give the tip even more attention, loving how Will mutters words he can’t really understand, but he knows the meaning of.

Soon, he engulfs him again. He stops when his nose is almost touching Will’s pubic hair - by that time, Will’s mouth is open in an “o” and his thighs are shaking. With the hand that is not holding Will’s, Hannibal touches Will’s testicles, giving him as much stimulation he can give. Will spreads his legs more and Hannibal almost gags, mesmerized by his beauty and by the fact his shyness is finally slipping away. Will is unbelievably charming, even when he has lost all of his composure. Even more, maybe.

“Hannibal,” he calls him, which causes the older man to moan around his cock. He groans, rolling his eyes. “I am going to come. Really soon.”

Hannibal sucks him harder. Will has a hard time to keep his eyes open, but he resists. His hand crushes Hannibal’s, but none of them care.

Hannibal’s hand goes to Will’s cock and he masturbates him as he sucks his tip into his mouth, caressing the slit with his tongue. Will’s voice gets louder as Hannibal sucks harder, inviting him to finish within his mouth. The thought is enough to send Will over the edge and soon he is coming, calling Hannibal’s name as the other keeps on sucking him and never stops the movement of his hand.

When Will goes limp, Hannibal slowly lets go of his cock. He makes a sound of appreciation and stares intently at Will as he cleans the corners of his mouth with his fingertips. Will laughs at the cliché, almost breathless.

“Dirty,” he purrs. “Do I taste good?”

“Very.”

“Tell me.”

“I enjoy sucking cock a lot, as you know,” Hannibal chuckles. Will bites back a moan, half shocked and half pleased with his vulgarity. It suits him. “Yours is amazing. I am sure I will get addicted to it.”

“Be my guest,” Will sighs, still dizzy. He watches Hannibal’s face and his heart feels like it is about to burst.

“I am just starting,” Hannibal cocks an eyebrow, self-satisfied. Will snorts. “Can I do something?”

“What?”

“Just give me permission,” Hannibal bends and kisses his hip, sweet. He bites it, then, creating another mark. Will produces a sound of pain, but he doesn’t look troubled at all. “Only if you think I deserve it, my darling, of course.”

“Go ahead.”

Sweetly, Hannibal kisses Will's thigh. The younger man sighs, unable to hide a smirk. Hannibal hums, satisfied, and goes down.

Will's eyes get wide when he realizes what the other is about to do. He opens his mouth to say something, but Hannibal's hands, strong and big as they are, grab him by the thighs and spread him open. Will swallows hard and stares at the ceiling, cheeks turning bright red.

"There is no reason to be shy," Hannibal points, bending. His lips are now dangerously close to Will's opening.

Will doesn't have time to answer. Hannibal's tongue touches him and he lets out a shaky sound, still trying to recover from his peak. Hannibal licks him again, slower this time, giving Will time to get used to the feeling.

Will closes his eyes, shivering. This is something new, indeed. Not bad. Not bad at all. One of his hands goes to Hannibal’s hair and he grabs it, still gentle. Hannibal moans and Will does the same, cursing when he feels the vibration of Hannibal’s voice against his most intimate part.

Hannibal keeps on going, enjoying the way Will’s muscles contract around his tongue and loving how his hand is getting tighter and tighter is his hair. Will groans every now and then, showing the other that he is appreciating his efforts.

And he is. A lot. Much more than he probably should.

His thighs are starting to shake by the time Hannibal pushes one finger inside. Will swallows hard, unused to this, but trusts Hannibal will know what to do. The older man doesn’t stop licking him for one second, keeping him wet and prepared for the penetration. The sounds that come from this act are dirty as fuck - and Will loves them. Will wants more.

He mewls when Hannibal’s finger go all the way inside him. It hurts, but it is a good kind of hurt - they are not healthy, he repeats silently to himself. This is nothing Will can’t take and --

Hannibal pushes his tongue inside.

He moans so loud he feels dizzy. Hannibal’s free hand grab him by the thigh and he sucks him harder, using his finger to spread him open. Will whimpers as he feels his cock starting to harden again and moves his hips, loving how Hannibal’s tongue just keeps going. He wants to praise him. He wants to push his hips against his face and beg him to fuck him harder with his fingers and tongue. He wants to tell him that he is really a fantastic lover. He wants so many things, but he can’t say, he can’t - it’s hard to breathe. He can feel Hannibal’s desire for him. He can feel the way the other is about to come. It is like he can smell the proximity of his orgasm in the air. This is insane.

Hannibal inserts another finger. Will sobs and moves his hips in circles, shaking as Hannibal’s fingers go in and out in a fast pace. It shouldn’t be so appealing. It shouldn’t, but it is. And Will likes it this way.

Hannibal is overwhelmed. His cock pulses in his pants, desperate to get out. It hurts him to remove one of his hands from Will’s body, but he has to. As soon as he frees himself - and lets out a small sound of relief -, his hand finds its way back to Will’s thigh. He grabs it, marking it with the pressure of his fingertips, loving to know the boy will see and feel the evidence of Hannibal’s hunger for the next days.

“Hannibal”, Will’s voice is so full of passion Hannibal almost lets out a groan. Almost. “I want to touch you.”

“Soon,” Hannibal promises, mouth still close to Will’s hole. His fingers, wet and slick, are still inside.

Before Will can think of anything else to say, Hannibal shoves another finger inside. The boy screams and pulls his hair, pressing himself against his fingers, begging with his body for his tongue. Hannibal goes for it, licking and sucking him, almost desperate. This is not usual. He is never like this. He is never -- it’s Will. Just like he has said before. His exception. His beautiful exception. Finally his.

He curves the three fingers inside, spreading the boy open. Will mewls. There is pain. There is always pain when Hannibal is in the equation, but he doesn’t mind. There is pleasure too and the two things are mixed together, creating something Will doesn’t really know what is, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind at all. He wishes he knew how to do such a thing, but he is tired of lying. He is so fucking tired.

Hannibal’s mouth leaves his hole to bite his inner thigh. Will jumps, surprised, and stares at him as Hannibal’s grins, satisfied, to his new mark.

Hannibal’s fingers are still moving.

“Do you want more?” Hannibal asks.

Fuck yes.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Grab the lube. It’s under the bed.”

He removes his fingers. Will doesn’t look pleased. It takes him a few seconds to find the strength to move and to do what Hannibal has asked him to. As he moves, he can hear the sound of Hannibal’s clothes being discarded.

“Here,” Will hands him the lube and looks down, admiring Hannibal’s erection. He swallows hard. The first time, indeed, he felt so attracted to a male body. “What are you going to do to me now?”

“I will fuck you,” Hannibal answers. No thinking, no hesitating. Will swallows hard, his breath out of control.

“Hard?”

“As hard as you wish,” Hannibal chuckles, opening the bottle of lube. He covers his fingers in it and, without saying anything, presses two of them inside of Will again. The boy moans, eyes wide, visibly surprised. “You take it so beautifully, Will, it is hard not to fuck you with my fingers until you come.”

“We will have time for it,” Will pants, cock so hard it hurts.

“Yes,” Hannibal sighs, removing his fingers slowly, loving the sounds their bodies can make together. He takes a deep breathe and pours lube all over himself.

He moans when he feels Will's hand on his erection. He stares at him, a little shocked, but the boy just goes on. Hannibal knows it is his first time, so he waits and doesn’t move - the exploration, the discoveries, the feelings are all evident in Will’s face and Hannibal is happy he can see all of it. He swallows hard when Will’s fingertips touch his tip.

“Not now,” Hannibal asks softly. Will blinks, surprised. “I want to come inside.”

“It is stronger when you wait?” Will smirks and Hannibal chuckles, nodding. “Tantra.”

“Yes.”

“You have to teach me more of it someday,” Will’s hand leaves Hannibal’s cock. “Not now. Now, show me.”

“Demanding.”

“Would you have me any other way?” Will teases as Hannibal bends over him, spreading his legs with his strong hands. He swallows hard as their bodies touch.

“Yes,” Hannibal says, mouth close to his. “Moaning.”

“This is--” Will groans as he feels the tip of Hannibal’s cock in this opening. He licks his lips and stares at the older man. He can listen to the sound of Hannibal’s body working. He can listen to his beating heart. He can listen to the rush of his blood, inside of his veins. He can feels his body calling for him - it’s so strange and utterly sublime he has to take a deep breath.

Hannibal pushes inside. It’s slow and gentle, but Will makes a pained sound. It hurts more than Hannibal’s fingers, but once again, he can take it. He wants it. He spreads his legs a little more, which earns him a moan and a soft peck on the lips, and waits patiently. Inch by inch, Hannibal finds his way inside him.

Literally, this time.

He has been inside him for so long.

“Is this okay?” Hannibal asks, mouth touching his. Will nods as Hannibal’s hands grab him by the thighs.

He removes himself from Will’s body and repeats the whole gesture, still so slowly Will wants to hurt him. He is doing this on purpose, the fucker, the teaser. He moans, circling his hips softly. Hannibal swallows hard.

“Don’t,” he warns him. “I will lose it.”

“Then lose it,” Will says and presses his body against Hannibal’s. He goes all the way into his body and the boy moans. “Fuck.”

Hannibal closes his eyes. Will’s eyes are wide as he watches the spectacle of Hannibal’s undoing. Finally.

Hannibal’s cock slips out of his body and comes back harder. Will sobs, divided between pleasure and pain, but knowing he needs more of it. His fingers go to Hannibal’s back and he stucks his nails on Hannibal’s beautiful skin, loving how the gesture is enough to make Hannibal’s movements less coordinated. He is losing it. He is not in control anymore - and so isn’t Will, so he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t brag. It doesn’t mind. They are losing it together, which is better than any fucking game they could have been playing.

This is real.

Hannibal moves. One, two, three times.

This is human.

Will’s legs are wrapped around Hannibal’s hips as their movements get frantic.

This is them.

Will moans as Hannibal leaves. He tries to bring him back, but the other shakes his head. He kisses Will’s arms as he learns how to breathe again.

“On all fours,” he orders. Will obliges and soon he’s plunging into him. “Fuck, Will.”

“Yes,” Will moans, spreading his legs, his body shaking from the pleasure, from the delicious pain and from the constant impact of Hannibal’s hips on his. “Just like this.”

“There is  no one,” Hannibal snarls, grabbing him by the hair. The boy’s mouth is open in an “o” as Hannibal’s cock hits parts of his body he has never felt before. It is too much and not enough at the same time. “Except you.”

“I know,” Will grumbles, satisfied. He pushes his body against Hannibal’s in circles, loving how hard and deep he is going. Pain makes everything real. Pain is what he understands. There is so much satisfaction in this.

Hannibal’s thrusts are now hard and fast. Will swallows hard and tilts his hips, offering more of himself to him. The man makes a feral sound and slows down, going all the way before finally leaving his body. Will closes his eyes and sighs as Hannibal’s licks the sweat off of his back.

He wants to consume him.

God knows how Will is willing to let him to.

“Fuck,” Will groans when Hannibal is all the way inside, filling him, stimulating him. A strange and delicious vibration is taking his body. “This is amazing.”

The next time Hannibal leaves his body, he doesn’t come back. Will makes a sound of despair and pushes his hips against his, but Hannibal’s hands, sweaty as they are, stop him. Their breaths are labored and high.

“What--” Will sobs as one of Hannibal’s fingers find his hole, spreading more lubricant on it. He licks his lips and almost falls onto the bed, feeling the soreness of his body for the first time. It is not enough to stop him from asking for more, though. “No, I’ve-- your cock. Inside. Now.”

“Still--”

Before Hannibal can tease him again, Will sits on the bed and turns to him. They stare at each other for a while and admire the mess they have made together. Hannibal chuckles, but gets surprised when Will throws him onto the bed and sits on his thighs, smiling like a cat. The boy's hands go to his cock and Hannibal moans, grabbing his hips.

“Will,” he warns him, eyes small and dangerous. Will hums, satisfied. “No.”

“Yes,” Will answers, combative. “You have been touching me for a long time.”

“So?”

“My turn.”

“No,” Will groans as Hannibal removes his hands from him. He is about to say something, but the older man throws him onto the bed again. “Don’t take me the pleasure of coming inside of you.”

“Fuck,” Will moans, spreading his legs. Hannibal stops, eyes wide, staring at him in amazement. “So just do it.”

And Hannibal does. He slams home and Will cries out, touching him everywhere he can reach. He can feel the sharpness of Will’s nails into his nape and shoulders and it is like pouring gasoline into a sparkling blaze - not in his wildest dreams Hannibal thought he would see him like that someday. Desperate, feral, completely in need of him. His.

His hand envelops Will’s cock and he masturbates him. They don’t have a rhythm anymore - they are tongue and teeth, fingers and nails, legs and hips. None of them could wish for anything else than that.

As Hannibal’s hand gets faster, Will can feel his orgasm coming. He swallows hard, almost suffocated by the pleasure that now is spreading to the rest of his body. He grabs Hannibal’s hair and kisses him, moaning into his mouth as he knows, he knows, he knows--

He comes so hard he has to close his eyes. His voice fills the whole bedroom as he shakes and paints their chests with the evidence of his pleasure. He falls onto the bed after it, still trembling, and pushes his hips against Hannibal’s.

“Don’t stop,” he orders, still breathless and a little out of his body. “Now.”

The other obliges. He shoves himself inside of Will, who watches him in awe and satisfaction. This Hannibal was his and his alone. No one could ever see him come undone like that.

“Will,” Hannibal murmurs in devotion. His movements are uncontrolled. “Will.”

“Yes,” the other answers, holding him tight as he spams and comes so hard his whole body shakes. Hannibal’s hands grab Will’s body and he moans loudly, shoving his face into Will’s neck. His smell is not his anymore. His smell is their smell. They are an entirely new thing.

Their voices disappear. Their breaths fill the room.

Hannibal removes himself from Will’s body slowly, paying attention to his reactions. The boy groans softly, but doesn’t look anything but satisfied. He opens his arms and Hannibal finds his way between them, letting the younger man hold him.

“Jesus,” Will sighs, kissing Hannibal’s face. “You were not exaggerating.”

“I can be many things, dear Will,” Hannibal answers, his voice calm and pleased. “But I would not lie about something like this.”

“No, you wouldn't,” Will agrees, chuckling. “It will be impossible to sit for the next three or four days.”

“You should stay in bed, then,” Hannibal hums. “With me.”

Will shouldn’t be feeling this much.

“This is the plan,” Will smiles. He laughs as Hannibal kisses the corner of his lips and kisses his mouth once, twice, thrice. “What a fluffy cannibal.”

Will shouldn’t be so amused and delighted.

“No,” Hannibal says, still kissing him. “You are my exception.”

Will shouldn’t be so happy to hear it.

“So are you,” Will suspires, closing his eyes.

But he is.