Hannibal prided himself on not holding grudges. He was a man of practicalities and reason; emotions tended to muddy the waters of such things when taken too seriously. Compassion was dangerous when lives were at stake, and while Hannibal was hardly cruel he very deliberately compartmentalized his life.
Work was separate from his social niceties, acquaintances rarely met friends, and Will Graham was not meant to be in his office.
“I don’t believe you have an appointment, Mr. Graham.”
“I’m not here for therapy.”
“Then I’m all the more curious as to why you are here,” Hannibal replied, closing the door quietly. He would have to have another talk with his secretary about letting people into his office when he himself wasn’t in it to greet them. Though to give him credit, the younger Graham had done little more than linger five steps in, eyes up to the mezzanine, hands in his pockets.
He looked a lot like his father, except for his eyes.
Will Graham had extraordinary eyes.
To be fair, there was little about the boy that wasn’t pleasing, even if it was purely in an aesthetic sense. Despite the unfortunate resemblance to his father, he had clearly inherited his mother’s wilder, darker hair, her near-dainty stature - though there was no reason to think he would not fill out and grow in time - and those eyes. Lovely, a mesh of blues and greens that Hannibal would have dedicated hours to perfecting if they belonged to any other person.
As though reading his thoughts, Will gifted Hannibal a flash of those wide, bright eyes of his, and a smile that slanted sharply up at the corner, dimpling his cheeks.
“What if I told you I didn’t know?” Will replied. Hannibal kept his expression flat, but internally, Will’s attempt at deflection amused him. Will took another step into Hannibal’s office, as though waiting for him to pounce and throw Will out. His hip found the corner of Hannibal’s patient chair, one ankle folding across the other, head tilted up and at an angle so he could watch Hannibal in his periphery and still pretend to take in the room.
“I’d say you were a liar, or repressing something,” Hannibal replied mildly, stepping into the room with him. He took off his coat and hung it on the coat tree by the door, and then his scarf. He smoothed a hand down the buttoned front of his suit jacket and gave Will a smile. “No one wanders into a therapist’s office by accident.”
Will’s teeth showed for just a moment as he smiled, and then he looked away, head ducked and eyes up, keeping both the room and Hannibal in his line of sight. “Not by accident,” he agreed. For a moment, neither moved; Hannibal used to keeping this space neutral rather than staking territorial claim, and Will still young and Southern-raised enough to defer. But it was Will, in the end, who pushed off from the chair he’d been leaning on to make his way to Hannibal’s desk instead.
Elegant fingers spread and ghosted over the papers there, just barely touching the fountain pen laid alongside a closed leatherbound journal. Will circumvented the heavy wood until he reached the chair and didn’t hesitate a moment before taking a seat there as though it was his to take.
“You were telling me last time, about the importance of teenage rebellion,” Will reminded him, bringing a hand to his mouth as he grinned, one foot to the ground to turn the chair back and forth as the other curled behind his knee.
“I was explaining the relevance and necessity for young adults to seek their own way in the world,” Hannibal corrected him, the corners of his eyes warm with a spider web of wrinkles. “I don’t believe I ever encouraged such rebellion.”
Will arched a brow, and let out a hum that was only half-muffled behind the flat of his fingers. His hand was not large enough to completely hide his smile. “Of course not,” he said, words over-proper in that way he did, Hannibal had noticed, when he was trying not to laugh. What elders took as respect was Will desperately trying not to show how hilarious he found them.
Will’s hand dropped, and he tapped the tips of his fingers against the desk, meeting Hannibal’s gaze levelly; the look of a wolf cub who didn’t know better, to be afraid. “Rebellion isn’t accidental,” he said.
Hannibal gave a single nod. “No,” he agreed, and approached his desk on near-silent feet. Will’s head tilted up for each step, refusing to cower, to back down. His defiance, a result of both youthful arrogance and the unfortunate affliction of being smarter than almost everyone around him, was something that always delighted Hannibal to no end. Even the most stubborn and rebellious children could be tamed with the right hand.
He came to the edge of the other side of his desk, leaned down and braced his hands on it. Will’s eyes dropped to them, he pressed his lips together, sucking in a breath.
“What would your father say,” he began quietly, earning Will’s eyes again, “if he found out you had come to visit me today?”
“He’d have you arrested,” Will replied, smile bright. His body was tensed to move, poised to get up at the barest hint that he should and he hung on that precipice with a smile.
“Would he?” Hannibal asked, amused, as he leaned in just a little nearer. “I suppose your father would find any excuse.”
“Statutory rape,” Will pointed out, hand curling against his lips again so he was gently chewing at his knuckles instead. “Of his only son.”
Hannibal hummed, as though considering the sound of such a thing in a public forum. Sheriff Graham had never been a fan of Hannibal’s, though if the doctor truly thought about it, he could not come up with a reason as to why. He had never stood in the way of the man’s campaigns for Sheriff, he had never had trouble with the law. Perhaps it was a case of a town not being big enough for two such egos.
“A flagrantly disobedient young man who uses his clever mind for seduction and sedition in equal measure,” Hannibal offered in reply. “To corrupt the Sheriff’s known rival into self-incrimination.”
The young man shivered in delight at the sound of that. “Am I disobedient?”
“You’re an untrained pup, Will Graham,” Hannibal replied fondly, straightening up once more and bringing a hand up to work free a cufflink. Silver with an emerald in the middle today. “And far too clever for your own good.”
Will’s eyes flashed down to his sleeve as he detached the cufflink, setting it down on his desk. His lips parted, showing a slip of his tongue, the very edges of his teeth. Hannibal was no stranger to hunger, even could recall with perfect clarity the wild, gnawing feeling of an empty stomach in his youth, and still he wondered if he had ever looked quite so openly desperate.
“You like my cleverness,” Will replied, his eyes wide and growing glassy as Hannibal unfastened the second cufflink, setting it beside its brother. His eyes rose, as Hannibal shed his suit jacket and placed it neatly folded on the desk, and began to roll up his sleeves.
Hannibal smiled, and gave an acquiescing nod. “There are many aspects of you I find delightful, Will,” he replied calmly. Once his sleeves were rolled up to past his elbows, he circled the desk until he came to a stop in front of Will. Will swiveled in the chair, staring up at him with those wide, lovely eyes.
Hannibal reached down, cupping his face. His hand seemed so large against Will’s body, no matter where he placed it. Another delightful aspect, one he relished, as well as the fact that Will was so pale that the bruises Hannibal left on him showed up in such a stark myriad of color.
Will’s lashes fluttered, and he breathed out, pressed his lips together again as Hannibal traced his lower one with his thumb. “Will,” he murmured, and Will’s eyes opened and met his. “You’re in my seat.”
A blink, pupils widening incrementally, before the boy purred forth a laugh and closed his eyes again. He didn’t move to get up, however, choosing instead to turn his face into the rough palm that held him, nuzzling against the callouses Hannibal had at the base of his fingers, parting his lips to tease his teeth over the side of the doctor’s thumb.
“I know,” he said. “Can’t we share?”
“I have things to do.” Hannibal told him mildly, moving his hand from Will’s cheek up to his hair, wild curls silken beneath his palm, too wild to be tamed into a tail, too long to be kept free. He curled his fingers, turned his wrist, and Will’s chin lifted, lips parting, to reveal his throat.
“I can help?”
“You’re a distraction.”
“A welcome distraction.” Will grinned.
Hannibal tugged his hair just enough to pull Will up into a half-crouch over the chair, both feet to the floor to keep his balance as he kept his eyes on Hannibal’s. The first time the doctor had done this, Will had tried to wriggle free, petulant as a puppy being scruffed. Now he held the uncomfortable position until Hannibal made a sound in his throat and pulled Will nearer.
He shifted just enough to slide into his chair before letting the boy go. As he turned himself towards his desk, he found the path blocked by a knobby knee in torn jeans. Hannibal raised his eyes to the proud thing clinging to his desk, met the eyes that had grown stormy with need before pointedly dropping his gaze to the bulge in the boy’s jeans.
“You don’t have patients for two hours,” Will whispered, bending his knee and setting the toe of his shoe to the seat cushion, ankle pressed to the arm of the chair.
“And I may not have patience for just as long,” Hannibal countered, amused when the boy immediately bit his lip. Will’s eyes raked him up and down, a pretty pink flush beginning to color his cheeks. He leaned in, a magnet in his chest compelling him forward, and his fingertips dragged daintily up through the hair on Hannal’s bared forearm.
Hannibal was content to sit, perfectly still, as Will let his foot drop, replacing his toe with his knee, bared by the rip in his jeans. He wormed his other knee between Hannibal’s, free hand bracing him on the open armrest. Not quite settling, not quite sitting; the half-crouch of a puppy being told to sit and stay before he got his treat.
“Please, Dr. Lecter?” he murmured. Hannibal gave him a cool look, brows rising, sitting back in his chair as Will tried to nudge their foreheads together. Still, his fingers twitched at his side, curling, the only giveaway he would allow, when Will gave him another wide, sweet smile. Beautiful, arrogant boy. “You haven’t fucked me since my dad said I had to stop seeing you.”
He nosed lightly at Hannibal’s jaw, breath warm and sweet on his neck. His hair, always so wild, brushed Hannibal’s nose and lips, giving him a teasing breath of Will’s sweetness. The boy always smelled like the wilderness, pine furs and cinnamon and dewy grass.
Will’s nose touched the arch of his ear, his hand sliding to Hannibal’s bicep, squeezing. “Am I wrong in saying that maybe that is distraction itself? Something I can help with.” He caved, then, straddling one of Hannibal’s thighs, perched on him and trembling finely from the strain of such an awkward position. “Something I can...ease.”
Awful boy. Perceptive and clever and far too proud. Hannibal had wanted him since before he even got a taste of that soft mouth against his own. He hadn’t a preference for teenage boys, not often, and certainly not one that compromised his own sanity and safety. Too immature and flighty for his taste, not nearly worth the patience needed to tame them to proper obedience. But the Graham boy was delectable.
And he hated his father just as much as Hannibal claimed he didn’t.
He trailed his knuckles up Will’s side, enough to tease the fabric of his shirt but not touch him properly. Will made an impatient sound in his lap and Hannibal pressed the toe of his shoe to the floor to lift his thigh up for Will to rub against.
“I’ve never fucked you, callous boy,” Hannibal reminded him. “Have you been imagining filthy things, Will?”
“Just your cock,” Will responded, pleased. He rocked down against the offered thigh with devious pleasure, his knee nudging gently between Hannibal’s own legs as he did. “So big I need two hands to hold it.”
Hannibal hummed, considering the needy thing in his lap. He truly didn’t have appointments for hours yet, and there really was a thrill in corrupting such a willing thing. Hannibal spread a wide palm over the boy’s hip and held him still, tilting his head up to look at Will a moment.
“You’ve quite the imagination.”
“You’re welcome to borrow it sometime.”
“I think I’d rather borrow your mouth for now,” Hannibal replied, relishing the full-body shiver that ran through Will at the words. “Put it to use so it’s not tempted to distract me.”
Will’s lips parted again, like they were already waiting to be filled. The space between them called to Hannibal, the slip of Will’s tongue as he licked his lower lip was a delicious, taunting test of his own inner control.
Will smiled, lashes going low, and slid the hand on the armrest inward. Danced fingers across Hannibal’s creased shirt, to the center where the line of buttons rested. Down, a feather-light slither of warmth and teasing pressure, until he found, past waistband and button and zipper, the bulge of Hannibal’s cock, already half-hard from the scent and sight of Will grinding with such eagerness in his lap.
Will’s mouth twitched, just a small tic at the corner, betraying how much he liked touching it, even through the many layers still separating them. The boy had a fascination for anatomy, it was what had brought him wandering, wide-eyed and curious, into Hannibal’s former career in the first place, but his interest with Hannibal’s body bordered on obsessive.
Normally Hannibal was content to allow Will his exploration, to measure the distance between the veins in the backs of his hands, to press and test the firmness of muscle, the angle of his fingers when they wrapped around the boy’s throat, but Will was right; Hannibal hadn’t seen him in far, far too long. And his patience was running thin.
“Will.” Immediate attention, sharp and focused. Hannibal had to resist the urge to lick his lips. “Down.”
Will didn’t scramble to obey, but it was a close thing. Impatient and eager, he settled on his knees between Hannibal’s own and brought both hands up to work free his belt and button and fly to get to the warm, thin fabric covering Hannibal’s cock. Last time, Hannibal hadn’t let Will suck. He had taken him into his own mouth instead, the boy leaning back against his desk, knuckles white over the wood as he whimpered and gasped out his pleasure.
He’d come quickly and tasted extraordinary. Hannibal was fairly certain that no one else had ever done that to his boy, that that experience would cement itself into the foundation of many of Will Graham’s fantasies thereafter.
He’d let Will touch, however. Let him bring his small hands up to stroke and explore, breath catching any time Hannibal responded to him. In the end, Hannibal had stroked himself to completion, Will watching with wide eyes filled with awe before he’d leaned in to taste, sucking Hannibal’s knuckle between his sinful lips and pulling back with a small laugh of delight.
Now, Will touched Hannibal through his underwear before easing it down to reveal Hannibal properly. He swallowed, the sound thick and heavy, and cast his eyes up for one final nod of permission. Will’s hands were inexperienced but far from unpracticed. He tried to adjust to Hannibal’s size, to his girth and to touching someone at an angle Will had never touched before. But his mouth….
His mouth was heaven.
Delicate, rosebud-pink lips parted around Hannibal’s cockhead, Will’s mouth angled so he could slip the head into the innards of his cheek, making it bulge. He was careful with his teeth, he knew better, and Hannibal breathed out heavily, pushing his thumb against Will’s other cheek to feel how far his jaw had to stretch to accommodate Hannibal’s cock.
Will’s fingers wrapped around him, petting down the shaft, teasing pressure at the thick vein and the slight bulge just below Hannibal’s cockhead where he was particularly sensitive. He squeezed, pinky to forefinger, like running a piano scale, and Hannibal huffed, tipping his head back and letting his eyes fall to half-mast as he enjoyed the sensations.
Will took this as encouragement, a soft, gasping moan stuck and clogged up by Hannibal’s cock as he lifted higher on his knees and corrected the angle of his head, allowing his jaw to fall lax and loose, his free hand spreading wide on Hannibal’s thigh as he took him down an inch further. His bottom teeth scraped Hannibal’s shaft and he let out a soft, warning growl.
“Careful, my dear boy,” he murmured, and gripped Will by his hair where it grew thickest, at the top of his head, and pulled him so his forehead was closer to Hannibal’s stomach, his tongue laving thick and wet over Hannibal’s cockhead. “There we go. That’s much better.”
Will’s cheeks had already begun to darken, stifled oxygen flow and exertion coloring them to the inner cut of raw meat. Hannibal couldn’t see his eyes, even when he pushed Will’s hair out of the way and wrapped it around his fingers. They were closed, lashes beaded with reflexive tears, and Will hadn’t even taken him in all that deep. Hannibal’s cockhead still barely breached the furthermost stretch of Will’s palette, had yet to trigger his gag reflex and test the vice of his spasming throat.
He sucked in another breath, slow, measured. Puppies got over excited if you riled them up too fast. “Relax, Will,” he coaxed, rubbing gently at the underside of Will’s soft, smooth jaw. Angular, with just a hint of puppy fat that had preceded his next growth spurt. He hadn’t had one for a while. “Nice and easy. That’s it. Good boy.”
He felt immediately when he’d pushed to a point Will hadn’t yet explored. His throat tensed, his mouth closed down, his breath hitched, and Will tried to shove backwards to get away from the discomfort. Hannibal held him still, groaned when the whine Will released did little to earn mercy, but felt incredible against his skin.
“Swallow,” he commanded, holding Will just where he wanted him, not pushing deeper until he got himself under control. And he would, if he wanted more from Hannibal. He would learn what needed to be taught before he got the reward he’d been aching for. “Breathe through your nose and relax.”
Will made another helpless noise of displeasure and shoved the heels of his hands against the chair, the struggle futile but amusing to Hannibal, until the boy finally settled. He swallowed. He breathed. And soon his tongue returned to drawing rough over the underside of Hannibal’s cock, his breaths panting hot and quick over the rest of Hannibal the boy couldn’t yet take.
“That’s it, clever boy,” Hannibal praised, fingers relaxing in Will’s curls to pet them, rather than grip them. “The quicker you learn, the more of me you'll get.”
Will’s cheeks hollowed as he sucked, sealing his lips around just the tip and using his fingers to spread the slick of his saliva down Hannibal’s shaft, stroking slow, but tight. Wonderful, really, especially when combined with Will’s furtive licks, gentle sucking kisses placed along his cockhead and down his shaft, before Will took him back into his mouth again.
Will was panting, unused to and inexperienced at regulating his breathing with so much in his mouth, so Hannibal had pity on him, stopping him with a gentle touch to his jaw, and curling his fingers beneath, so he could lift Will off of his cock.
Hannibal smiled at him, pleased and amused at the annoyed glint in Will’s eye, though no words escaped his bruised, swollen lips, his wet mouth. He had the look of a hungry animal about him, and his grip on Hannibal’s thighs was tight.
“Focus on rhythm,” Hannibal told him, framing Will’s face with his hands and guiding him back down to swallow down the first few inches of Hannibal’s cock. “You remember what you’ve learned, don’t you, Will?”
Will let out a little helpless moan. Of course he did. Hannibal had taught him in person; every sensitive nerve on a body, how each piece of it connected and which part of the brain it lit up. Will had already been given a roadmap, at least with a general idea. He just had to figure out how to apply it, graduating from theory to practice.
The rhythm was better, this time, though still uneven and stuttered. Will’s hands spread and explored, curling over Hannibal’s balls, scraping dull nails against his stomach. Will returned to what he’d done best, this first time. He slid back Hannibal’s foreskin to torment the head with soft lips and flicking tongue. He moaned around him, a sound far too obscene to be genuine but that sent pleasant goosebumps over Hannibal’s form.
One day he would have this boy spread for him. Would devour every inch of him and pull orgasms from him until Will wept with it. One day.
Today he would seek his pleasure in the boy’s glorious mouth and kiss the taste of himself from it. An idea tickled the edge of his mouth to a smile and Hannibal ducked his head to look at the boy between his legs.
“Touch yourself,” he said, watching Will still for a moment, before spreading his knees wider and dropping a hand between them. “Insatiable thing,” he sighed. “I’d cage you if you were my own, make your pleasures earned, not guaranteed. Teach you proper patience and manners befitting of a boy of mine.”
Will moaned, low and pleased, and sucked Hannibal deeper for a moment.
“That way, when I do fuck you,” Hannibal bit the inside of his lip, heat coiling in his belly, muscles tensing in his thighs. “You’ll have properly earned it.”
Will pulled back with a whine, fumbling with his jeans to work them open just enough to shove his hands into them, squeezing hard against himself as he panted cool breaths over Hannibal’s cock thick and red before him.
“You’re not finished,” Hannibal said, raising a brow when Will looked up with an expression of childish need. “And you won’t, until I do. Sit up.”
Will practically threw himself at Hannibal’s cock, one hand already slick with his own precum wrapping around the shaft as he licked and sucked hungrily at the head. His desperation was delicious, the scent of him, sweaty and needy and sweet, was adding barbs to the arousal in Hannibal’s belly, making it tense further. He spread his knees out a fraction wider, and slid a hand into Will’s hair.
“Do you want to taste me, sweet boy?” he rasped, words barely more than a growl. “Or should I finish on your face and send you home to your father like that?”
Will choked, a muffled, high-pitched whine making his throat flutter around Hannibal’s cock. Hannibal’s nostrils flared, smelling as Will finished, a dark stain growing behind his jeans and underwear. Hannibal growled, gripped Will’s hair tightly, and pulled him down until the hard back of Will’s throat stopped him. He wasn’t all the way in, but it was enough; the tight, hot clench of Will’s shocked and spasming throat milked him as he came, Will’s neck limp enough to move his head like a toy, working him in slow, even little motions until Will’s eyes brimmed and spilled new tears, until his mouth went slack and a thick line of drool and whitish come dripped down Hannibal’s shaft.
Hannibal let Will pull up, but didn’t release him. He directed Will to licking up the mess on his cock and Will did so eagerly, panting, kittenish licks placed to Hannibal’s sensitive flesh as he began to soften. Will’s tongue was delicate and gentle, thorough, of course. Hannibal imagined he could easily make quite the glutton out of his boy.
When Will was done, and Hannibal was clean, he eased his cock back into his underwear and corrected his clothes, releasing Will’s hair. Will’s forehead fell to his knee, his warm breaths puffing, ragged and uneven, as he tried to catch his breath.
Hannibal sat up, bent over him, and put his nose to Will’s hair, drawing in a deep lungful of the boy’s scent - still so sweet, so wild. Will lifted his head and his forehead touched Hannibal’s jaw, eyes wide and still black with lingering arousal.
Will's gaze dropped to his lap, as he pulled out his free hand, sticky and coated. Hannibal smiled, and took Will’s wrist, drawing his fingers close so he could steal a taste. Will’s lips twitched into a wide, sated smile.
Hannibal sucked him clean, and then caught Will’s chin to bring him nearer and kiss him, their tastes mingling between them, tongues lazy and seeking. When Hannibal pulled back, Will shoved closer to kiss him again, catching the corner of his mouth as Hannibal smiled.
“Best you be getting home, Will,” he told him. The boy snorted.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I do,” Hannibal’s smile widened. “Just as you are, in fact. You walked here, I assume?”
Will frowned, blush bright under his eyes, showing the faintest hint of freckles there that came out clear in summer, and faded in fall.
“I caught the bus.”
“The next should be in...” Hannibal made a show of checking his watch, knuckles grazing Will’s cheek even as the boy fussed in front of him; “Twenty minutes.”
“Hannibal -.” Two fingers against Will’s lips to silence him only drew his devious tongue between them in a teasing lick. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed.
“Be sure to leave your number with my secretary,” he added, “so I can be in touch about your next appointment.”
Will arched a brow, head tilted. “That’s not very discreet, Dr. Lecter,” he mused, another mischievous smile twisting his lips. “People talk in a town like this.”
Hannibal hummed. Yes, they certainly did.
“What if…” Will stood up and stepped forward again, pressed knee to knee, fingers trailing light down Hannibal’s arm, from Will’s own chin down to the elbow. “What if I met you somewhere, instead? Somewhere with more…” His eyes flashed to the desk, then to Hannibal, “Surface area.”
The lingering fissure of heat that was Hannibal’s arousal rolled, at that, and a growl rumbled in his chest. “Did you have somewhere in mind?” he asked, more curious than anything else. Will was one of those boys who disappeared in the afternoons and as long as he showed up by curfew, his father didn’t ask too many questions.
Foolish, or perhaps too trusting. If Will were Hannibal’s boy, he would never let him out of his sight. With eyes like that, who knows what kind of trouble a delicious young thing like him could get into?
“There’s a construction site by the bridge,” Will said. “Walkable distance from my house. Not visible from the main road. Abandoned at night.” He smiled, and ran his fingers up Hannibal’s arm again, tapped at his pulse. Hannibal was far too old to be sneaking around like a teenager, finding any spot where he could have a secret rendezvous, but the idea of having Will out in the open like that, where anyone could happen upon them…
Intriguing. Arrogant little thing.
“The water’s loud enough to cover up noises, too.”
Hannibal’s brows rose.
“What do you say?”
His lips pursed, considering. He supposed if Will was already going to be there, Hannibal could pick him up in his car and drive them somewhere more suitable. So he smiled, and inclined his head in a single nod, and Will grinned back at him, and released his arm.
“I’ll see you there, Dr. Lecter,” he purred. “Don’t keep me waiting long.”
Hannibal was very accommodating with his hours. Most of his clients were working professionals, many of whom had hours similar to Hannibal's own during the day. He often found himself staying in the office into late evening some days, always gracious when the last patient of the day remarked on his dedication.
Dedication came with perks.
Months of building trust and no set routine allowed for Hannibal to come and go without suspicion from anyone. Leaving his office at five o'clock was as normal as leaving it after ten, and he would often allow his secretary to go home at a decent hour, taking upon himself the duty of greeting his own clients.
He didn't answer the phones.
His Bentley purred beneath him, eating up the road mile by mile as Hannibal sought the place Will had spoken of. It was just getting to early fall, and the nights were balmy, but Hannibal still felt himself twist in distaste at the idea of finally claiming his boy amidst rubble and dust.
He would have to be convincing in luring the boy out, then.
He parked up around a low wall, so the car would not be seen from the road, and turned off the lights before stepping out. Will had been right; the water's proximity gave a comfortable white noise barrier between those within and those without, but it also made it harder for Hannibal to seek his boy by sound alone.
It turned out he needn't have worried; Will found him first.
Loose arms around his shoulders and scruffy Doc Martens bent at the toes to bring them as close to face to face as they could be, Will kissed him with a hum.
"Thought you were going to stand me up."
“Never,” Hannibal murmured, wrapping an arm around Will’s skinny waist, holding him close. Despite the humidity and the relatively warm night, Will was noticeably underdressed, and shivered in Hannibal’s arms. He had clearly chosen his outfit with the intention of seduction; his t-shirt was worn thin and clung far too tightly to his skinny shoulders and tapered waist to be of any kind of barrier against the cold. Those same ripped jeans were too damaged to keep the heat of Will’s body in, and as Hannibal pet down his arm, he felt goose bumps and risen hairs graze his palm.
He smiled. “Aren’t you cold?” he murmured.
“Yeah,” Will admitted, as if he could hide the way he shivered and obviously sought Hannibal out for warmth. “But you can warm me up, right?” He grinned up at Hannibal. The moon shone down on them, the paleness of Will’s face glowing, his eyes bright and colored an icy grey. He slid his chilly fingers beneath Hannibal’s jacket, gripping the back of his shirt. “You wanna warm me up, Dr. Lecter?”
“Perhaps you would be more comfortable in the car,” Hannibal suggested.
Will’s brow creased, and he pressed his lips together. “I thought -.”
“Rest assured, my dear boy, I didn’t come here with the intention of ferrying you straight home.” Will still looked unsure, his youth only so apparent when robbed of his sea legs, stuttering in place like a baby deer hearing buckshot for the first time. Hannibal cupped his face, and leaned down to graze their lips together in the teasing promise of a kiss.
“It’s warm in there,” he coaxed, sliding his hands down Will’s skinny arms again. “And comfortable.” Will swallowed, head tilted up, seeking another kiss, but Hannibal did not let their lips meet again. He took Will’s wrists and smiled at him. “I promise you’ll prefer it.”
Will wet his lips, but nodded, allowing Hannibal to lead him to the car. So trusting, so sweet - if Hannibal were any other kind of predator he would be in serious trouble. Hannibal opened the back passenger door for him, and Will’s brow arched.
“What a gentleman,” he murmured, and slid into the car, sighing immediately as he was enveloped in the lingering heat. Hannibal slid in beside him, and closed the door behind them. Will shivered, rubbing his hands up and down his arms, over his thighs, trying to warm up, and Hannibal watched him do it, admiring the pretty flush starting on Will’s cheeks, the curl of his hair as it fluffed up in the humid air, the pretty brightness of his eyes that was not at all affected by the darkness in the vehicle.
Sufficiently warmed, Will’s smile snaked free, twitching with nerves and trying to remain aloof with bravado. In truth Hannibal hardly needed this much effort from the boy; he had long wanted him. And now, watching the young thing fret and shift, trying to appear older, more worthy of attention, Hannibal knew without a doubt that he would have him. He reached out to cup the back of Will’s head, his other hand resting on his bare knee, still cold from outside.
Will made a soft sound, an airless little laugh that Hannibal immediately swallowed when he kissed him. It was enough to melt Will’s tension entirely from his form, enough for small hands to seek over Hannibal’s, his body turning into him as their lips pressed together. Will’s knee bent as he shifted against the seat, and Hannibal moved his palm to his other thigh, coaxing Will nearer until the boy very nearly scrambled into his lap, straddling Hannibal where he sat. He pulled back with a sigh, a grin, and then set his hands on either side of Hannibal’s face and kissed him again, pressing his body close with a lazy roll of his spine, from hips to chest.
Oh, he was a temptation. Still so slight, almost frail as he perched in Hannibal’s lap, spreading his thighs to sit nearer, dropping a hand to seek over Hannibal’s chest through his shirt. He allowed the boy to explore, opening his mouth to Will’s probing tongue, drawing wide hands over the boy’s back, gathering the pathetic excuse for a shirt beneath his fingers and tugging it off over his head when Will broke the kiss with a moan.
“Beautiful boy,” Hannibal praised him, keeping one hand at Will’s hip as the other caught against the back of his neck, tilting his head back so Hannibal could kiss under his jaw, over his stuttering pulse. He could feel Will’s cock already hard between his legs as he wriggled nearer, smiled when Will finally took the initiative to work free Hannibal’s tie and start in on the buttons of his shirt. He rewarded the boy by ducking his head to take a nipple between his lips to suck, catching Will with a hand between his shoulders when he gasped and tried to squirm away from the familiar, tickling sensation.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” Will laughed, pressing a hand to his mouth as though to hold the sounds back before giving up on the idea and dropping it to Hannibal’s hair instead, scratching gently at his scalp as Hannibal introduced teeth and tugged.
Will clung to him, other hand flying out to grip at the edge of the backseat, his knees spreading wide so that he could lower himself and grind helplessly against Hannibal’s lap, his stomach, wherever he could get friction. The heat of the car was growing stifling, the windows edged with fog, but Hannibal was determined to take his time. He could not give Will a bed, a nice dinner, something classic that befitted such a bright, lovely thing, but he could certainly afford Will some patience.
He parted from Will’s nipple with a broad-tongued lick, holding the boy steady and letting him grind to his heart’s content as he moved to the other, free hand continuing to pet over the wet little bud while he soaked the other. Will gasped, flat and pale stomach giving little telltale clenches around his heavy breathing, as Hannibal teased his nipples, and his hand moved from Will’s shoulder to his tailbone, spread out wide on his smooth, sweat-damp skin.
This territory was not entirely untraveled to him, but he had never been given such unlimited access to Will’s body before, and was determined to enjoy himself. Will bowed his head, panting weakly against Hannibal’s shoulder, a trembling, weak moan falling from him as his thighs tensed, pulling together, his hips slowing and becoming a little less coordinated.
Hannibal huffed. “You’re so delightfully responsive, darling,” he murmured, digging his teeth around Will’s nipple and kneading a pink ring around it in the shape of his bite. Will whined, shoulders rolling up like a winged animal about to take flight. His fingers, in Hannibal’s hair, flexed out wide and then curled up, going still. “I wonder if I could ever get you to a point, after you’ve enjoyed the full experience, where I wouldn’t need to touch you at all. Just ghosts, promises, and that wonderful imagination of yours.”
Will whined, a high and helpless noise, and rutted down once more as he came, hard and hot in his pants. He laugh was a shiver against Hannibal’s cheek and he brought a hand to his face to press at the blush bleeding from beneath his eyes down to his cheeks.
“Wouldn’t take much,” he admitted quietly, as embarrassed as he was pleased with himself. Will had been like this from the start, when he had come into Hannibal’s then-medical office to ask for advice on what to study and where to seek internships when he was old enough to try for them. And then his father had forbidden Will from speaking to Hannibal. In true, rebellious teenage tradition, it had made Will want him all the more.
And now… now this. This and so much more.
“You’ve already made a mess of me,” Will added, amused, coy, that same tone he’d tried outside to get Hannibal interested, as though he weren’t already.
“And I will again, I suspect. Tell me, Will, what have you imagined us doing?”
“Everything,” Will breathed. Hannibal’s brows lifted, and he gave Will a warm, encouraging smile. “I’ve - I’ve thought about you fucking me in your office, over that nice couch. Thought about leaving a stain on the chair your patients have to sit in.”
Possessive. Indulgent. The idea of smelling Will on his office furniture was not an unpleasant one, though Hannibal knew it would drive him to utter distraction.
“What else?” he murmured, continuing to lightly pet Will’s nipple, other hand dipping closer to the waistband of his jeans. Will shivered, arching in readiness, and tilted his head back, panting to the ceiling.
“I’ve imagined you sneaking into my room at night,” he confessed, gasping as Hannibal dragged his fingers down, feather-light over Will’s smooth stomach. Below his navel, teasing at the baby-fine hairs just beginning to grow, laid like a treasure map to his cock. “Fucking me quick and dirty with a hand over my mouth so we don’t wake my dad.”
Hannibal’s lips twitched in an aborted snarl. Now that was an enticing thought.
Will’s fingers fluttered over Hannibal’s shoulder, dragging down to grip both of his biceps. He leaned in, their foreheads touching, his breaths calming as his orgasm abated, let him go from its teeth. Still, his eyes, black as they were, told Hannibal he was far from finished.
“I want you inside me, Dr. Lecter,” he breathed, biting his lower lip. His mouth was plush and reddened, just aching to be kissed. “Please.”
Please. Sweet thing.
Hannibal did so prize politeness.
He tugged the boy nearer and kissed him soundly, tasting the adrenaline and nerves that sung through Will’s entire body at being here, now, like this together. When Hannibal let him go, Will reached to hold onto him instead, spreading his hands over Hannibal’s chest, down through the hair there, tweaking a nipple with his thumb as he went.
Inexperienced, still, but hungry. Hannibal could appreciate hungry.
His own hands sought for Will’s jeans, working them free, snarling his teeth in pleasure when Will immediately pushed up on his knees for Hannibal to slide them and his underwear off to catch about his thighs. He didn’t reach to touch between Will’s legs right away, he let his palms rub soothingly over the pale untouched skin instead, feeling the incremental shivers that trembled through Will as he lowered himself to sit again.
Breathless and eager, Will met his eyes when he pulled back and smiled, something so innocent about the expression it tightened something in Hannibal’s chest. The boy was extraordinary in his ability to hide himself while staying in plain sight. If Hannibal were not a master of it himself he might have missed it. He kept his eyes on Will’s as his fingers walked teasingly up the insides of his thighs, gathering soft skin and flesh beneath them with a gentle squeeze. Higher and higher until he held Will spread just enough for a finger to skim over his hole.
Hannibal raised a brow. “Already prepared, Will?”
Despite his heavy blush, the smile Will gave him was far from embarassed. “I wanted to be ready,” he replied breathlessly, giving Hannibal a charming flash of his teeth. Hannibal brushed his fingers, testing, over Will’s hole again. He felt wetness, there, a cursory stretch job at best, as Will’s rim still felt incredibly tight, clutching at the very tip of his finger when he chanced a small push inside.
He knew his smile was far from comforting. Will made him feel impatient, hungry himself. A feast so willingly offered, a trembling, sweet juvenile animal that wandered so happily into the trap of his claws.
He pushed, with just the tip of one finger, and Will gasped, lashes fluttering and head tilted up as Hannibal penetrated him. He imagined it was the first time Will had had anything belonging to another person inside him, and Hannibal certainly wasn’t small.
He gripped his chin and lowered Will’s head until their eyes could meet again. “Look at me, dear boy,” he commanded, and Will bit his lip and gave a frantic nod. “You’re going to be good and watch me as I fill you.”
“Yes.” The word escaped Will like a punch, and Hannibal smiled. Will’s fingers continued to pet heavy over Hannibal’s chest, his breathing picking up as Hannibal sank his finger into the first knuckle. Will was tight, blister-hot on the inside, warmed by the car and Hannibal’s own body heat. He clung to Hannibal like a vice, his body just as greedy and desperate as the rest of him.
Hannibal hummed, watching Will’s lashes flutter, his lips part around another helpless little moan. His hips jerked, seeking more fullness, and, well, Hannibal was always happy to oblige his boy’s curiosity.
He pulled back, and pushed in with two fingers, holding Will’s thigh tight and steady as he worked them in, deep enough that Will gasped, loudly, and jerked in his arms.
He was sure, at this point, feeling how tight Will was, that Will had never had more than his own finger up his ass before. It would have started as any sexual experimentation starts, and then became something to look forward to, something to get good at, and then something to do just a little, just once, so that Hannibal could stretch him properly, give him his first proper fuck.
Will tried to sink back against him with adolescent enthusiasm, biting his lip at the pressure, blinking his eyes open when they closed in pleasure, or he felt far too overwhelmed to be seeing anything at all. He just wanted to do it. To just… fuck. He didn’t know what else to do; how to draw out foreplay, how to tease without coming in his pants embarrassingly quickly, and he hated that, he hated that here, of all places, he appeared so much like the child he was.
Hannibal, conversely, hardly minded. He watched the minute changes on Will’s face, the little flickers of discomfort and need, impatience and worry. He watched those lovely eyes roll up, focus on him again, pupils still wide, nearly pushing out the blue. He leaned in to taste him, the clean sweat that had gathered at Will’s collarbone, and sought with his fingers for the spot within the boy that would jerk him out of his overthinking and out of his worry.
Sex was difficult to get wrong.
Will would certainly not leave Hannibal disappointed, regardless of how the evening turned out in the end.
He licked over Will’s collarbone slowly, relishing the sweet taste of him, and pressed deeper with his fingers, setting his teeth in a smile to Will’s flushed skin when he felt the little nub of the boy’s prostate. Will’s response was immediate, and borderline startling, just like the rest of his reactions had been through the moving waters of their burgeoning relationship.
Will’s mouth curled around a stuttering cry, his knees dug into the Bentley’s seat cushions, his thighs clamped hard around Hannibal’s as he shuddered in place, spine grown tense as a bowstring beneath Hannibal’s hand, every muscle around his fingers clenching down. Hannibal smiled, petting over his prostate again, and drew out another sweet, heavy moan from Will, stifled against his temple.
“Fuck,” Will breathed. He had never, Hannibal was sure, gotten this deep. Boys this small simply couldn’t reach far enough, and didn’t know where to look. “Oh, oh God, fuck -.” His nails dug into Hannibal, wherever he could reach, and he rocked his hips against Hannibal’s fingers on instinct alone.
His eyes clenched tightly shut, and Hannibal smiled, gripping him by the nape of the neck and kissing him. “As beautiful as I’m sure you would look taking me just like this, we should move to something that will be more comfortable,” he suggested.
Will huffed, his voice hoarse like he’d been screaming, or Hannibal had put him on his knees and used his mouth. “You’re the one who suggested the car,” he replied.
“And it is perfectly adequate,” Hannibal replied. He pulled his fingers from Will, smiling at the weak, pitiful whimper the sudden loss conjured from the boy’s chest, and lifted him from his lap.
He moved Will easily, for Will was pliant and certainly eager, and put him with his knees on the edge of the seat, curled up on himself so his chin settled between the headrests for each place. Hannibal put his knees between Will’s, and leaned over him, letting Will feel every inch of his broad chest, his heavy body. Will’s thighs quivered under his touch, and Hannibal put his teeth to Will’s ear;
“Like this, I won’t be able to watch your face as you come undone beneath me, but there are benefits to this position,” he said. Will turned his head, cheek against the smooth leather, and looked at him from the corner of his black eyes. Hannibal smiled, and put a hand on Will’s stomach. “Depth, for one.”
Will shivered, nodding quickly even though he hadn’t been asked a question. He just wanted it, and he wanted it now. He wanted to feel Hannibal press into him, feel him fill Will up, feel him fuck and use Will’s body as he wanted. God, he’d never wanted anything else more in his entire young life than that. As much to piss off his dad, but also to know that he, Will Graham, was interesting enough to tempt and seduce a man like Hannibal. That it was his mind, as well as his body, that got him what he wanted.
“Your fingers felt good,” he mumbled, smiling and ducking his face to the seat again when Hannibal chuckled.
“I will fill you up much deeper than my fingers, dear boy.”
Will shuddered. “Good.”
Hannibal kissed over his shoulders, down his spine, hands setting to Will’s hips to hold him in place. He was still caught in his jeans, and it didn’t matter. Hannibal would see the boy spread another day, when he could see his face, could watch him squirm and bite his lip and beg to come as Hannibal spread his legs and devoured him. But now…. Now, he would have him just like this.
There should have been more lubricant, perhaps Hannibal should have taken the time to ease the way a little more, but he didn’t, and Will in his ignorance had not asked for more. Hannibal took his time working free his pants, watching Will’s shoulders tense and relax as he listened but didn’t look back to see what Hannibal was doing. He knew well enough. He let the anticipation build for himself, clever thing that he was.
“I’m going to make you scream,” Hannibal promised him softly, stroking his hair back from Will’s neck to kiss there as he teased the head of his cock over Will’s entrance. “You’ll rasp in class at school tomorrow.”
Will laughed, nervous and little, and tensed his thighs for a moment, lingering on the tantalizing promise. He could only spread so far, with his jeans tucked tight around his thighs, but he lifted himself in greedy offering. So sweet, utterly tempting, satisfaction promised in every line and curve of his skinny body as he arched to Hannibal’s chest like a desperate little beast.
Hannibal held himself steady with one hand, the other on Will’s hip to keep him from shying away. He pushed in, cockhead eagerly swallowed by Will’s slick, pink rim. He wished he could watch, but alas, the car was too dark, their bodies too close-pressed to allow it. Will’s breath hitched, his fingers curling in the leather, shoulders tensing up.
But he didn’t pull away. Hannibal told himself he would stop, if Will had hesitated. He lied.
He kept pushing in, growling at the tight, hot grip of Will as he was forced to part and make room inside his body. So small, so skinny, if Will’s body were any younger Hannibal was sure he would be able to feel the bulge of his own cock pushing at the boy’s insides. He slid his hand to Will’s belly, just to test, holding him just above his pubic bone as Will gasped, mewling pathetically, pinned under him as Hannibal took his prize and parted Will for himself.
Will took him with surprising grace, for how old and halfhearted the preparation had been. His muscles quivered and clamped without rhythm, not knowing how to tighten and how to relax to make it easier for both of them, but that was alright. Hannibal was strong, and he knew exactly what he was doing.
He released his cock and put his hand by Will’s head on the back of the seat, releasing his breath in a low snarl as he sank all the way in, until Will’s ass pressed tight to his thighs, and Will moaned when he did, back bowing, seeking pressure against the spot Hannibal had found in him. Hannibal was content to let him rut and wriggle with his new toy; it was better for Will, to get used to the stretch and weight of another man inside him.
Will shuddered, mewling quietly, ridiculously overwhelmed. He ached, though he didn’t outright hurt. He felt so full, almost too full, like nothing should be able to feel like this but somehow did. He squirmed back against Hannibal, whimpering when he somehow pushed even deeper into him. He was so much larger than Will, in every possible way, and the thought alone made Will feel absolutely blissful.
He turned his face against the hand Hannibal pressed to the seat, nuzzling there, and dropped one of his own to tease his own cock again. He’d grown soft, from the nerves, from the pain, but now, filled as he was, and with his hand around himself, Will felt that coil of fire flicker in his groin again.
“Feels so good,” he whispered, laughing helplessly when Hannibal rocked back and in, half an inch, maybe, no more, and it already turned Will’s knees to water. “Move, please move,” he added, parting his lips to suck gently against Hannibal’s fingers where they gripped the seat. “Please fuck me.”
Hannibal was ravenous, but he was patient. He didn’t immediately plow into a body not fit to handle that much strength. Instead he took his time, shallowly easing into and out of the boy until Will was whimpering, panting heat against the leather, his breath pooling and dissipating over and over. He felt immediately when Will relaxed into it, when something in his own mind changed up and clicked, and he turned just so, and arched his back, and could feel Hannibal against -.
“Fuck, oh fuck, God, please -.”
“I’m gonna come again,” Will complained, laughing, and pressed his hand to his thigh instead of stroking himself, watching his cock bounce off his belly, over and over, as Hannibal picked up his pace, as he brought both hands down to hold Will again and started to fuck him.
“Good,” Hannibal growled, nuzzling Will’s sweaty hair, pushing it from his nape so he could get a taste of his sweet boy’s skin. He could feel it, too, feel how Will’s body clenched around his cock, desperate, milking him for it. Will gasped as he pushed up on Will’s belly, letting his cock grind against Will’s prostate with every thrust.
The Bentley’s alignment creaked beneath them, the windows were opaque with condensation. Hannibal was sweating too, feeling it bead on his forehead and the backs of his knees, under his arms. He wanted to cover Will with it, mark him with sweat and come and teeth.
He dropped a hand, wrapping it around Will’s hard cock, pleased to find how wet he was at the tip. He would make sure Will knew to drink plenty of water after this.
Will whined, rutting against him feverishly, writhing where he was pinned and trapped, knees squeaking against the leather, breath hot and heavy against Hannibal’s hair. “I’m -. I’m gonna -,” he tried again, unable to speak more.
Hannibal smiled. “Do it, Will,” he purred, biting lightly at Will’s neck. Couldn’t leave marks, but could certainly tease at it, and he knew how sensitive Will was everywhere. Predictably, Will moaned at the pressure, his cock twitching in Hannibal’s hand. “Be a good boy and leave your stain in my car, knowing I’ll be able to smell you for days after.”
Will cursed, his entire body tensing as he pulsed into Hannibal’s hand and arched back against him. He dropped his head back against Hannibal’s shoulder and whined as the doctor did not slow down, not at all, in fucking him. It felt good. It felt so fucking good Will could barely breathe. He’d never been so sensitive before, never felt every single follicle of the hairs on his arms respond to a puff of breath. His pulse was everywhere, blood rushed in his ears, and he wanted to just keep going and going, to have Hannibal fuck him forever.
He reached back, catching Hannibal’s hair in desperate fingers, and tugged, enough to feel Hannibal growl against him, a low warning note that made Will shiver, predatory and dangerous. Just what Will wanted.
“Harder,” he insisted, grinning when Hannibal didn’t hesitate to comply, didn’t ask if Will was sure or if this was okay. He didn’t treat Will like a fragile thing, like a delicate boy. He treated him how he felt Will deserved, and Will loved it. “God Hannibal fuck me harder,”
He slipped sometimes, Hannibal noticed, and used his first name when he was utterly desperate for something. Sweet boy. He wouldn’t stop him. He did love the sound of his name on Will’s lips, the way he whined it, the way his throat clicked on the consonants. He wrapped an arm around the boy’s middle, bringing him up higher on his knees, and thrust in deep, turning to paint his own breath in lieu of bruises over Will’s throat.
It was a thorough claiming, something Will would feel for days after this, would wake up in the night and jerk off to. It amused him that he lost his virginity in the back of a car. So normal, so utterly boring, and yet….
He squeezed his muscles tight, relaxed them again, doing everything in his meagre power to bring Hannibal closer to his own orgasm, hoping that it felt as good for him as it had for Will, hoping this wouldn’t be the end of their conversations and Will’s deliberate sneaking around. His brows furrowed at the thought and WIll squeezed his eyes shut.
“Hannibal, please -.”
Fill me up, mark me, claim me, keep me….
Hannibal went still, lashes fluttering and lips parting, teeth edged to Will’s rabbiting pulse as he pressed deep into his boy - his boy, his - and held him still. Will wriggled, but just for a moment, until Hannibal gave another low, wordless growl of warning.
The heat building in his chest unfurled, stomach tensing with every spurt of come he gave Will’s greedy body. Will’s muscles were so tight, rim a deep, blushing red, pulsing from the aftermath of his own orgasm. Hannibal pulled back so he could watch, relishing the sight of Will’s pale, round ass under his hands, spread so wide, rim shining with the little lube he’d applied.
He huffed, back of his head hitting the top of the car with a gentle thud, eyes closing as he emptied himself inside his boy, every twitch of his cock triggering a responsive little whine. Or maybe it was because every pulse made his hands tighten to the point to threaten bruises.
Will whined beneath him when Hannibal slid back, spent and softening, a gush of come following his cock as Will’s body seized up behind him. When he pulled all the way out, he held Will open, thumbs dug into his rim, ravenous for the sight and scent of him spilling out of Will.
The boy was trembling, overwhelmed in every possible way and tired, now that he had a moment to catch his breath. He was filthy. Perfect. He loved it. Will turned his head just enough to see Hannibal over his shoulder and grinned.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Hannibal just lifted his eyes to him and narrowed them, watching Will bite his lip in delight before turning away again and shifting to arch his back deeper and give Hannibal a better view of the mess he was making of himself.
It took everything Hannibal had in him not to lean in and taste him.
Where he could first taste Will, just Will, before mingling their flavor together against his tongue.
Instead, he pressed a kiss, hot and sloppy, against the boy’s tailbone before releasing him and sitting back himself. Behind his eyes, Will’s back was covered in scratches, his plush bottom bruised with Hannibal’s handprints, his thighs pink and trembling. He licked his lips and hummed, pleased, before returning himself to the present.
Will remained bent over as he’d been left, as much, Hannibal was sure, because he didn’t know what to do as because it was a comfortable enough position to hold. Hannibal set a heavy hand to the boy’s back and Will groaned quietly, turning to look over his shoulder again.
“I could sleep for ages,” he mumbled, grin sleepy, and reached to tug his clothes back up, wincing as he turned a certain way, smiling the entire time. When he’d put himself together as much as he could, he ducked his head and laughed, delighting in how obviously wrecked his jeans looked, with come leaking through the fabric, front and back.
Hannibal tucked himself back in as Will was correcting his clothes, until they both looked somewhat decent - Hannibal much more so than Will. Will looked like he would be better suited on a street corner in the bad part of town. He smiled, and leaned down, cupping Will’s nape and pulling him up for a kiss that lingered. He missed the taste of himself on Will’s tongue, and vowed that, next time, he would make sure he filled his boy at both ends.
Will parted from him with a dreamy sigh, lashes low over his dark eyes, hair a mess, flattened from pressing against the back of the seat and near-black with sweat. His smile, wide, dimpling his cheeks, showed Hannibal his teeth.
“This is the part where you kick me out and I walk home, huh?” he asked.
Hannibal sighed. The romantic in him would rather have avoided this part, too, but Will had insisted on a place close to his house and very much public, for all they were hidden, and he certainly couldn’t drop Will off at the end of his driveway, looking like that.
He tucked a curl behind Will’s ear, stalling, and Will gave him another wide, lovely smile, and lifted up for another kiss. “I’m not mad,” he murmured. “But I know where you live. And where you work. So if you’re planning on just dumping me now -.”
“I promise, dear boy, I have no such intention,” Hannibal replied. He understood why Will might think that - there was a certain reputation amongst youths, especially boys, of loving and leaving - but it still caused a pang of offended outrage in his skull, that Will might think him capable. Perhaps it was just another way Will liked to tease him.
“Mm. Good,” Will said, and wet his lips. His fingers trailed down Hannibal’s chest, to his thighs, and curled. “I’ll see you soon, then?”
“I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to,” Hannibal said, and Will grinned up at him, unrepentant, beaming. Hannibal leaned down for one more kiss, because if he didn’t, he knew the desire would follow him all the way home, and then Will moved from beneath him, opening the door and clambering out, w incing when his untried muscles and shaky legs tried to support his weight.
Hannibal eyed the car. There was a very obvious and gratuitous stain in the center left behind. And teeth marks in the leather, nail scratches burred into the seat. Will had thoroughly left his mark, and Hannibal couldn’t be more proud.