I never really feel a thing
I'm just kinda too froze
You were the only one
That even kinda came close
I just pinch myself
No longer comatose
It hits Hannibal like a ton of bricks the second he realizes it - he’s in love with Will Graham. On the heels of that realization comes another, which is different yet equally unsettling - that he has never really been in love before. Hannibal can truthfully say that he has never felt love like this ever in his entire forty five years of life.
He thinks back to when he first met Will, how skeptical he was when Jack Crawford described the man to him - able to empathize with anyone. Hannibal had mentally scoffed. Many people have claimed that ability, but all that Hannibal has ever encountered have been fake. He thinks of it like a myth, something claimed to exist in psychiatric circles but never proven - similar to how astrophysicists claim dark matter exists, yet can’t directly prove it.
Yet after just a short interaction with said man, Hannibal is forced to admit that Will seems to be the real deal. The hostility he radiates is a surprise, although in retrospect Hannibal supposes if he could empathize with anyone he would probably be grumpy too - spending most of your life trudging through the banal thoughts of the masses - ugh. Although Will’s profession has him profiling serial killers. Huh, now *that* is interesting.
In fact it is that thought that shakes the foundations of Hannibal’s memory palace. As Will’s ocean blue eyes travel across his person in Jack’s office, Hannibal is nearly frozen in shock, feeling like for the first time in his life there is the possibility that someone might be able to understand him - truly understand him. Not like those who say they do out of fear or intimidation, or based off of false pretenses, the person suit he wears...but someone who he could show the real him to. It’s an intoxicating thought and he quickly becomes addicted to the idea. He never thought such a person could exist, and yet Will Graham does in fact exist, flesh and blood standing before him.
His growing obsession to be seen and known begins to bleed from his conscious thoughts into his dreams. At night as he sleeps he yearns for love, partnership, and companionship, and he wakes feeling alive and wanting like he never has before. He feels like a new man. It’s like he was emotionally in a coma before this - his actions always motivated by his own amusement or intellectual curiosity, but never ever love.
Now that he has theoretically found someone who can understand him, someone potentially to love, Hannibal is even more thrilled by the novelty of having to work to get it. Most things in his life have come easily - he’s not used to having to sing for his supper, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t able to. He suspects gaining favor with Will will not be easy. Solely based off of that first meeting, he knows that Will Graham builds a lot of walls to try to keep things out of his mind - it makes sense with his degree of empathy. However Hannibal has never been one to turn down a challenge, especially when the reward could be so sweet.
And when your stitch comes loose
I wanna sleep on every piece of fuzz
And stuffing that comes out of you, you
As he gets to know Will better through their “conversations,” Hannibal discovers a few incredibly pleasant surprises about the man. By far the best surprise is that like himself, Will has an undeniable darkness within him. It’s there to see, plain as day, but Hannibal can tell Will tries to keep it locked away, almost as if he is ashamed of it. He supposes society would condition someone to feel that way, and Hannibal makes a mental note to try to coax Will into a more accepting headspace about this aspect of himself. It is something to be nurtured, not suppressed. As a psychiatrist he knows living in denial only breeds problems, so despite his personal agenda, he feels like he is honestly trying to help the empath - Will could be so much happier if he accepted that part of himself instead of wasting energy repressing it.
The more Hannibal learns about this interesting man, the more he desires him. It’s almost as if Will was custom made to be his perfect partner in life- not only would Will’s empathy allow him to understand Hannibal, but underneath it all, Hannibal can understand Will too, offer Will someone who will embrace the dark side of him rather than shunning it. They truly are a perfect match - now he only has to figure out how to get Will to see it too.
Another undeniable fact Hannibal discovers during their sessions is that he can see Will’s mind is on the verge of breaking, but only “breaking” in the conventional sense - and people like them are anything but conventional. Everyone seems to think Will is losing his mind, losing the battle against himself, but Hannibal can see Will is becoming, becoming who he has repressed so long out of fear. The darkness inside of Will is growing, and he’s becoming his true beautiful self - and that’s the Will that Hannibal wants.
During their sessions there are times Hannibal wants to rip open Will’s mind, roll around in his thoughts, bask in the unique and vivid fantasies surely churning behind his bright blue eyes, as he’s sure he’s only getting a fraction of what Will is actually seeing in his mind. What he wouldn’t give to see the world as Will sees it. Normally incredibly articulate, Hannibal struggles with how to breach this desire with Will beyond his standard therapy questions. In fact, he struggles with how to breach any of his desires with Will. Hannibal knows what he wants, but does Will want? It’s both disconcerting and refreshing that he honestly can’t say - he’s usually better at reading people, but Will Graham is an intriguing enigma, making him feel pleasantly unsettled whenever he’s in his presence. And surprisingly he has grown to crave the feeling.
I took too many hits off this memory
I need to come down
Much to Hannibal’s delight, Will frequently references his experience killing Garrett Jacob Hobbs during their sessions. Because of this Hannibal often finds himself perseverating on the memory of watching Will take his first life and takes pleasure in reminding Will that Hobbs was, in fact, his victim. He is subsequently a little disappointed to hear Will say he doesn't consider Hobbs his victim, just dead, because in Hannibal’s mind Hobbs most certainly was his victim. Hannibal recalls the event with startling clarity, reviewing it for probably they thousandth time with his eidetic memory.
That day was the first time Hannibal witnessed a glimpse of the monster that lurks inside Will - the monster who took pleasure in pulling the trigger, emptying the clip; the monster who basked in the power he wielded and in the warm blood splattered on his face. That is the Will Graham Hannibal wants to see again, wants to help him accept. And every time he fails to coax him into existence, Hannibal returns to that memory instead, pacifying his urges for the time being. Unfortunately, the more frequently he indulges in the memory, the more strongly he yearns for it to occur, the discrepancy between memory to reality making his dissatisfaction with their current state even stronger. He does his best to refrain from thinking about it but is only moderately successful.
Realized I can't not be with you
Or be just your friend
I love you to death
But I just can't, I just can't pretend
We were lovers first
Confidants but never friends
Were we ever friends?
However Will is not a total mystery to him. He can tell the younger man is fascinated with him at times, finds their banter and intellectual games amusing - but amusement and fascination are not the same as desire, nor love. Does Will love him? Care for him? Yearn for him? Long to hold him the way Hannibal wants to hold him?
At their bimonthly session, when Bedelia prods Hannibal with questions about his friendship with Will Graham, it is with startling clarity that he can’t really call what they have friendship - in fact they are light years away from friendship. Hannibal can feel in his bones that they could be so much more than friends, but never just. Hannibal’s heart simply could not accept that. They have to be all or nothing - there is no in-between.
'Cause I'm past the limits
The distance between us
It sharpens me like a knife
The yearning gets so strong that simply being in Will’s presence begins to feel like physical pain. And as time goes on, Hannibal is unhappy to find that rather than getting closer, it feels like he and Will are getting more distant from one another. As the emotional distance between them becomes greater he feels it viscerally, almost like he's slowly being sliced open with one of his best cooking knives.
To Hannibal it feels like they are at a crossroads, and without any further movement forward he is certain they will continue to drift apart. He feels it acutely that he has reached a breaking point, that he must make his feelings known soon. He simply can't let another day go by with this truth trapped inside him, he is past his limit for waiting any longer, the pain is too great.
Of course Hannibal recognizes that things may end badly - he’s not stupid. Will may have darkness within him, but he still currently works for the FBI. And like everything in his life, Hannibal tries to prepare for every eventuality. And as much as the thought of being separated from Will hurts, he acknowledges that if Will doesn’t return his feelings...or tries to turn him in... he may very well have to kill him. It would hurt him terribly to do it, but the distance between them has made him dangerous, into a weapon. If he feels sliced open, he can make Will feel that way too. It’s as simple as that. It really isn’t but he’s at his wits end, not thinking clearly, overwhelmed as he is with feeling.
So hold me tight
Hold me tight
Hold me tight, or don't
They are at an outdoor crime scene of all places (organs hanging from trees all around them like Christmas ornaments) when the truth unintentionally comes out. Around them is everyone wrapping up now that the evidence has been collected and Will has done his thing, getting into the mind of the killer. Apparently the killer thinks he’s returning the victims life force to nature. Amateur, Hannibal thinks, and wasteful he amends as he eyes the mangled blob of flesh that used to be the victim’s heart on a nearby branch. He could have made an excellent braised heart out of that -it’s incredibly rude to let it go to waste like this. His ire is assuaged somewhat when he realizes that there is no doubt that Will’s profile will help catch this inept killer. With his empathic gift Will was quickly able to hone in on the emotion the killer is motivated by.
As Hannibal has that thought he has a flash of inspiration, wondering why Will’s gift of reading people’s motivations and emotions hasn't detected his pining…or his crimes for that matter. If he can empathize with people so well, shouldn’t he have detected something by now?
The questions begin to swirl through his mind in a rapid mess of tangled emotion. He’s fairly certain that Will has not picked up on his crimes, otherwise he suspects he would currently be residing in prison cell. Or at the very least Will’s scrutiny would be on him...and that he would have definitely noticed. Despite the fact that he knows it wouldn’t be a good thing to be on the receiving end of Will’s perceptive skills, he can’t deny he craves it - craves Will’s attention...he wants him to know him, see him…
And in regards to his pining, that is where Hannibal is not sure. Maybe he is Will’s blind spot? His exception? It’s not that far-fetched of an idea, seeing as how Will has been his exception compared to the rest of humanity... Or - and Hannibal’s stomach drops as he has the thought - what if Will has seen his feelings and doesn't feel the same way? Has just pretended to not see them? The thought fills him with icy dread and while the pressing need to seen and known is still inside of him, Hannibal is now frozen into inaction. And so of course this moment of panic is when Will walks up to him.
“Hey we’re getting ready to g-” Will stops mid-sentence, his mind visibly sidetracked by whatever he sees before him. Hannibal can do nothing but watch as his beautiful mind assesses him, scanning over his person, seeing. Really seeing. Hannibal has no idea what he must look like right now but he feels laid bare, everything he normally tries to keep hidden now on display - the fear that his feelings are unrequited, that the one thing he wants in life will be denied him, the inability to cope with the fact that for the first time in his life he is not in control...and then there’s also his crimes, the darkness within him, everything - he has unintentionally made himself vulnerable.
Part of Hannibal hates it, this vulnerability. But as Will looks at him, really looks at him, he can't bring himself to hate it too much. As he predicted, Will’s scrutiny on him feels incredibly good. In the past Will has used those beautiful blue eyes to look at his own crime scenes - interpreting his evidence, reconstructing his killings - and during those times Hannibal found he had been absurdly jealous that he had to experience Will’s attention from afar. At the time a part of him sincerely wished that Will knew it was his work that he was calling “elegant”.
Right now his desire to be known, be seen - only by this man - is overpowering. For the first time in his life Hannibal has let his guard down, probably stupidly so, but right now he can hardly care. He knows he may end up in handcuffs, or Will's flesh may end up strewn about the autumn foliage nearby, but surely anything is better than this purgatory that is the unknown. He chances a glance at Will’s face and sees that his eyes have narrowed, his face speaking volumes as he apparently unpacks all the clues Hannibal is unwillingly giving. For an intense moment they are both frozen looking at one another.
The hitch in Will’s breath is likely the moment that he makes the connection - that Hannibal is not only the Chesapeake Ripper but also the Copycat. Hannibal can’t help averting his eyes, desperate to delay the moment as long as possible. Because while he got what he wanted, to be seen for who he really is, he can barely dare to hope that Will could love him the way he loves him - with passion and tenderness, yet also with teeth and darkness.
Hannibal knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that darkness does reside in Will, but the empath has spent thirty some years tamping it down, suppressing it, fighting it. And while Hannibal is certainly a great psychiatrist, he is only human; it is true that lately Will has made great progress in accepting the dark part of himself during their “conversations,” but actions speak louder than words - and right now Will is employed by the FBI with a standard issue pistol holstered at his hip.
Hannibal is pulled out of his thoughts when out of the corner of his eye he sees Will move towards him. He braces himself for whatever is coming - to be read his rights, shoved to the ground, etc. But instead he gasps in surprise when strong arms encircle him in what is undeniably a hug. Will’s firm warm body is pressed to his front, his hands splayed on his back over his suit, his bristly cheek pressed to his neck, and his soft curls teasing his face. He holds him tightly - not with authority, but with unmistakable affection.
Hannibal remains frozen in shock for a moment longer before he tentatively brings his arms around the younger man’s waist, almost in disbelief. Is this really happening? Is his mind palace playing a trick on him? A moment later Will presses closer to him, and Hannibal feels warm breath at his ear as Will whispers, “I see you Hannibal...for the first time I really see you.”
“And?” Hannibal asks, simultaneously scared and hopeful, waiting with bated breath for the next words out of Will’s mouth - at least one of their lives depends on them.
“I see me too. Us. What we could be together. Do you?” Will says quietly. Hannibal takes a breath, almost not believing what he is hearing.
“Yes I do. I have for awhile, I had hoped...” Hannibal answers breathily. He feels a puff of breath against his neck as Will chuckles.
“So what is this, hmm? A way to get my attention?”
“No…” Hannibal sighs into the embrace, “...this was...my surrender.”
“Surrender?” Will pulls back to look him in the eyes. At first he looks confused (and maybe a little disappointed), but then his eyes widen with clarity as a dark smile lands on his face. And apparently understanding between them goes both ways because it’s finally sinking in what Will is saying - Hannibal finally allows himself to hope, saying,
“We could disappear tonight. Feed your dogs, leave a note for Alana, and never see her or Jack again. Almost polite.”
“Run away with you?” Will asks almost hopefully.
“Run away together. We can make a place for us, a place where we can be our true selves. I want to see you free Will, to unleash the beautiful darkness I know resides within you. I want to see the real you, in all your resplendent glory.”
Now Will’s lips return to his ear as he says, “What if you don't like what you see?” his voice almost sultry in tone.
Hannibal shivers, embarrassed to feel himself start to get hard in his pants. It's only going to be a moment before Will feels it, pressed close as they are. After a moment of panic he resigns himself to his circumstance - after all, he did say he was surrendering...what does he have to lose at this point?
“I know I’ll I like what I see...I love you Will...all of you, especially the parts you try to hide.” As he speaks the words Will gasps and holds him tighter, face pressed his into his neck, his breath hot against his skin. It is at that moment they are interrupted by a local cop ready to close off the scene.
“Hey is everything okay?”
Will pulls back from their embrace and turns his head away, seeming to need a moment to reconcile his emotions; Hannibal can relate, he feels flayed, like his insides are spread out much like the victim at this crime scene. How poetic, maybe there is hope for this amateur killer after all, he muses. Hannibal rallies, reactivating his person suit and says, “Yes officer, we were just leaving.”
The officer nods and continues on his way. Wordlessly Hannibal places his hand on Will’s arm and guides him towards his own car. His Bently is the only car remaining at the scene aside from the lone patrol car. Hannibal mentally scoffs - some “friends” Will has at the FBI! They just use him for his insight and then ditch him! How could they know that he would be here to give Will a ride home? Of course he will but that’s beside the point, they didn’t know that!
Will deserves to be treated so much better than this. He is a unique and precious specimen of a man, and they treat him like a tool to be used and set aside. Hannibal imagines using tools on them - Jack with hammers and wrenches sticking out of him - making it clear who is actually the tool in this scenario. Beverly, Price, and Zeller all with forget-me-nots protruding from their eyes, ears and mouths - an enduring reminder that Will is not someone to be forgotten.
Hannibal is so lost in his murderous fantasy that he barely notices when Will nudges him to get his attention. He’s happy to see that the younger man looks more composed than a moment ago, and also entirely amused - almost as if he can read his thoughts. Hannibal supposes it is very likely that he can. That is what Will is known for after all, having an aptitude for recreating the fantasies of serial killers. He offers a small conspiratorial smile in acknowledgement as he unlocks the Bently and they get in.
Soon Hannibal pulls out into traffic, seeing the officer cordon off the scene behind them. He wordlessly drives them towards Wolf Trap, all the while desperately wondering what Will is thinking. How unfair it is that Will remains so inscrutable when right now he seems to be able to read Hannibal like a book. In this moment all of Hannibal’s knowledge and intuition at reading people are failing him. He has difficulty reconciling the fact that Will knows his secrets and is still here, calmly beside him. It seems too good to be true.
By the time they arrive at Will’s home the sun has set, the last remnants of its orange glow visible at the horizon, casting the world around them in shadows. They get out of the car, and Hannibal follows Will towards his house, sure that there is much more for them to discuss. When the younger man opens the front door his dogs spill out like liquid, bounding off all directions like coiled springs.
He follows Will across the threshold. A moment later Hannibal is honestly surprised when rather than turning on the lights, all of a sudden Will has shoved him into the wall in the dark, so hard the air is briefly knocked out of him. He is so caught off guard that he doesn't even consider resisting. When his eyes meet Will’s in the dark, he knows he certainly does not want to resist. What a cunning boy he is.
The sun has now fully set, the only light coming from the moon low in the sky, visible through the window. His fleeting surprise gives way to aroused amusement when Will smirks at him darkly and makes a show of slowly unholstering his weapon and tossing it away onto the rug across the room. It’s sexy as fuck, seeing Will embrace his nature like this; he’s totally in control, and more free and at ease than Hannibal has ever seen him. He finds himself incredibly aroused at the sight, feeling his pants begin to tighten.
Hannibal can’t help smiling darkly back at him as he takes in the breathtaking sight before him. Will looks positively radiant - his eyes glisten in the darkness, his normally calm ocean blue eyes appearing black in the moonlight from the window.
A moment later Hannibal is surprised to find himself being flung onto his back on the hard wooden floor. His entire frame of vision is taken up by Will who looms over him as he sits astride his torso holding him down. As if I would resist, Hannibal thinks, amused. On the contrary he is witnessing Will’s becoming right before his eyes and it’s so incredibly beautiful that his heart aches. And speaking of ache, his growing erection has a different kind of ache, feeling Will’s solid body against his own.
“Is this your becoming Will? Are you starting to understand that blood and breath are only elements undergoing change to fuel your radiance?” Hannibal asks breathlessly. A second later Will’s hand tightly grips his throat - it’s not quite enough to block his airway but is a near thing.
“Your blood and breath, Doctor?”
“I can think of no better purpose my death could serve, and yet I wish to witness what comes after your transformation,” Hannibal answers breathily, voice strained under the pressure on his throat.
Will assesses at him a moment before leaning down, face hovering over his own, so close they are sharing breath. Hannibal can feel the constraint of Will’s grip on this throat every time he breathes.
“What if I want your blood and breath for something else?” Will whispers into the shared space between them.
“For what? What is your design?” Hannibal whispers back, feeling Will’s warm breath against his lips as he speaks.
Before he can ask what he means, Will has closed the distance between them and is kissing him. The younger man's hand migrates from his throat to cradle his jaw, while the other is braced on the floor next to his face. Will's lips are warm, firmly pressed to his own and Hannibal melts into it, yielding to the man above him - the man who has stolen his heart, shown him what love can be. Hannibal has been kissed many times in his life but never once by someone who knows the real him. Because of that it feels like his first kiss all over again, his lips and skin tingling everywhere Will touches.
Just as soon as Hannibal finds the ability to return the kiss, his mouth opening against the other man’s, Will pulls back, breaking the kiss. His blue eyes open and look down at him, too close to truly see, yet seeing all the same - he feels seen like he never has before in his life. It’s incredibly intimate.
Hannibal can’t help the almost shy smile that breaks out on his face, looking up in wonder at the unique man above him. Needing to be closer, his raises his hands to touch the beautiful creature above him, thrilled that he can. He brings one hand to cover Will’s own against his face. From there he slides it up to Will’s strong forearm while his other hand finds his firm thigh caging him in.
“Make me your design,” Hannibal whispers.
As soon as the words have left his mouth Will is kissing him again, his tongue licking possessively into his mouth. Hannibal can’t stop the moan from escaping his throat as his tongue encounters Will’s, hot and wet, shooting electricity down his spine with every contact.
Hannibal is painfully hard now to the point that his erection aches, straining against the fabric of his suit pants, desperate for attention. Of their own volition his hands travel to Will’s hips and he reflexively pulls them down as he arches his own up, causing his clothed hardness to slide against Will’s. Oh god yes. They both moan into the kiss at how good it feels. Hannibal does it again, feeling equal parts rapturous and unsatisfied as every press of their bodies together sparks pleasure momentarily but leaves him craving more - it’s not enough, he’s not sure it will ever be enough. He wants everything with Will.
Just as Hannibal finds an incredibly pleasant rhythm which creates absolutely delicious friction between them, Will distracts him by biting his lip, scraping his teeth along the delicate inner skin. Immediately Hannibal tastes blood in their kiss, feeling the spark of pain quickly receding into a dull awareness. Will dives back into the kiss thoroughly, as if claiming his prize, his tongue running over Hannibal’s abused lip. Shortly after, their kiss breaks on a groan and Hannibal wonders if Will can taste his blood too. He hopes he can.
Will lifts his head once more, looking down at Hannibal with lidded eyes, his irises appearing black, pupils blown wide with lust. Transfixed by the beautifully changed man above him, Hannibal can only watch as Will stares down at him with a hungry gaze. After a moment the younger man's hand slides from where it was cradling his face down to cup his jaw. For a moment Hannibal wonders if Will might try to choke again, but instead he feels his chin held firmly as a thumb slides across his lower lip, pressing down until the inside is exposed.
Will runs his thumb over the damaged flesh of his lip and Hannibal can feel the tender point acutely, electrified by Will’s touch. Rapt, he watches as Will pulls his hand back and smiles as he inspects his thumb in the dim light from the window. Even from this distance Hannibal can see the smear of blood, appearing black in the moonlight.
“Blood and breath,” Hannibal says, smiling as Will smirks down at him. Keeping their gazes locked, Will tilts his body forward as he brings his thumb back to Hannibal’s mouth and pushes it inside. The way his body shifts, Hannibal can easily imagine another part of Will being pressed into his mouth - that thought alone causes him to moan around the digit, imagining Will fucking his mouth, imagining the taste, texture, weight, and feel of Will’s hard cock on his tongue.
Hannibal is pulled out of his fantasy when he tastes his own blood again, however now it is combined with the unique and delectable flavor of Will’s skin. The mixture is heavenly and he sucks harder and moans, watching with satisfaction as Will’s eyes widen and his breath quickens. Oh yes two can play at this game.
After a moment Will slowly pulls his thumb out before pushing it back in, simultaneously shifting his weight to grind his clothed cock down against Hannibal’s, letting out a breathy moan. Hannibal continues to suck, eyes boring into Will’s as he arches up against him, feeling the pleasure building between them, gaining momentum with every undulation.
“Oh god Hannibal, fuck, the things I want to do to you…” Will all but growls.
“Do them, Will. Do everything. You are free, with me you don’t have to hide.”
The next thing Hannibal knows he is being hauled up by his shirt which is clenched tightly in Will’s surprisingly strong grip. The second he is vertical he is shoved rather roughly across the small living room towards Will’s pullout bed.
The front of Hannibal’s thighs collide with the mattress and he catches himself with a hand on the sheet, bent forward over the bed. As he finds his balance, Will comes up behind him and presses his front to Hannibal’s back. Immediately Hannibal feels the hard outline of Will’s erection against his ass and instinctively presses back, aligning Will’s cock in between his cheeks through the layers of fabric between them, causing them both to moan.
Hannibal tries to turn around but is held in place by Will's body, caged in against the bed. It’s a novel feeling to be physically controlled - he’s never allowed someone such liberties with his person, but Will is not just anyone. And Hannibal meant what he said earlier - he has essentially given Will carte blanche with his life, to give in to any and every desire he has. And he's incredibly curious what those desires are.
Will’s hand reaches around him, palming his erection briefly before proceeding to undo his belt and pants, all the while continuing to grind against his ass. Their panting breaths are the only sound in the dark room as they move together, their motions a tease of what Hannibal hopes will come to pass.
Soon Will has succeeded in shoving his pants and underwear down and he steps out of them. A moan escapes his lips first at the exposure, and then at the feeling of Will’s calloused hands touching his newly revealed skin. Fingers possessively roam over his hips, his thighs, his ass...everywhere except where he wants. His aching cock bobs desperately against his abdomen, feeling cooler at the tip from the precome beading there.
“Will,” Hannibal groans needily.
In response Will grabs two fistfuls of Hannibal’s shirt and pulls, buttons scattering every which way. Hannibal moans, loving Will’s show of brutality and savagery. This is them - passionate yet dangerous. One step away from being too much, yet perfectly matched in their needs.
Now Hannibal is completely naked and he relishes the feeling of Will’s rough hands sliding covetously over his body. He tries to look back to see if Will is as naked as he is but doesn’t make it very far. As soon as he turns, Will’s fully clothed body instantly halts his movement, pressed firmly against him from thigh to back. The cold metal of his belt buckle is a shock, but soon gives way to a flush rising to his cheeks at the feeling of vulnerability it generates. It’s still a new feeling for him, and never one Hannibal has truly felt during sex. However his cock twitches when Will grinds his clothed erection against his bare ass, causing both of them to moan - and he has the thought that maybe being vulnerable with Will isn’t such a bad thing.
“Stay like that beautiful,” Will says as he steps away. In response Hannibal shivers - not at the cold or exposure - but at the confidence and control in Will’s voice, as well as the endearment. He obeys, watching as Will comes into his field of vision briefly, opening the drawer to his nightstand and removing a small bottle. He then disappears from Hannibal’s line of sight, presumably standing behind him.
Hannibal waits with anticipation, and is confused when nothing immediately happens. He strains to hear anything, expecting the click of the lube bottle being opened, the squelch of it being squirted out, the rustle of clothes being removed - anything. But he hears nothing.
He makes an executive decision and cranes his neck back, rotating his torso until he sees Will. The younger man is smiling as he watches him, still fully clothed except that his pants open and undone. Although what draws Hannibal's gaze is that Will is lazily stroking his prominent erection through his underwear with one hand, while he holds the bottle of what he hopes is lube in the other. The sight makes Hannibal’s own cock twitch, envious of the attention Will's is receiving. In response he straightens a little and lifts one hand from the bed to stroke his own cock, needing to relieve some of the arousal.
Hannibal keeps his eyes locked on Will over his shoulder as he strokes himself, feeling increasingly desperate and vulnerable. He’s never felt like this, so voluntarily at the mercy of another person. But Will is not just any other person. Hannibal is insanely curious what Will will do with his newfound freedom, the freedom to just be himself. It’s truly a blessing that he gets a front row seat to witness the transformation.
Through the darkness Hannibal sees Will smirk as he halts the motions of his hand and approaches him. In that moment Hannibal feels like prey being stalked by a predator which causes him to smile; it’s another reflection of how Will is finally embracing his true nature, it’s truly awe inspiring. He knows individually they are both strong, capable, intelligent and determined, but together...together they would be unstoppable. They would complete one another in a way no one else could. Hannibal had always hoped that Will felt it too, and here is the proof that he does. They really are identically different.
When Will is within touching distance, his hand rests between Hannibal’s shoulder blades and pushes until he is bent over the bed once again. And once again Will’s clothed body presses against his backside. The feeling causes Hannibal to shiver, the sensation magnified as Will leans over him and speaks into his ear,
“You said once I should be intimate with my instincts Hannibal…”
Hannibal groans at the rough and powerful quality of Will’s voice, pressing his body back into the other man’s shamelessly.
“Yes I did,” he affirms breathlessly.
“Well right now my instinct is to fuck you,” Will says, punctuated with a thrust of his hips, mimicking the act. Hannibal moans, feeling the desperation return, stroking himself a few times to take the edge off.
“Yes Will- ah-” No sooner has Hannibal breathed his enthusiasm for the idea than Will has backed away from him a little, coated his fingers in lube and pressed one into him about a third of the way. Hannibal groans, spreading his feet wider, more turned on than he has ever been in his life. He feels wanton like this, naked and spread out before Will who is still mostly clothed. No one has ever had him like this. He’s never wanted anyone to until now. And he knows no one else ever will.
Will begins pumping his finger in and out, working it deeper each time, spreading the lube. By the time he adds a second finger Hannibal is panting hard with a sheen of sweat over his body despite the cool night air. His body feels like a live wire, like a current is being passed directly through Will’s hands over his skin, electrifying him with every touch.
Without consciously deciding to do so, Hannibal begins rocking back onto Will's fingers as a rhythm is established, his moans coming nearly non-stop now. Absurdly he almost feels like he can’t handle it if Will doesn't fuck him soon - he's overwhelmed on the edge of pleasure he hasn’t had yet but somehow knows he needs. He's honestly not sure what would happen if Will doesn’t fuck him soon, but he truly can't think straight, as overcome with feeling as he is.
“Will please now, now, I need you-”
“Oh god Hannibal,” Will says breathily, and Hannibal feels both a third finger and more lube added. Before he can complain that he is more than ready, the hand is gone and he hears and feels the ruffling of Will’s clothes being shed. He peeks over his shoulder in time to see Will shove his pants and underwear down, step out of them, and coat his already glistening cock in lube. Surprisingly his shirt is still on and Hannibal is about to suggest that it go when all speech is stolen from him as Will gets into position and begins a steady pressure into him. The first breach of his body is almost a relief, his body calming at the feeling of completion, of being physically connected to Will this way.
Hannibal bears down and subsequently feels Will slide deeper into his body. He groans at the sensation, it just feels so incredibly right - he's never felt this way with a partner, it's almost transcendental. Before he knows it Will has bottomed out and is draped over him, his shirt brushing against Hannibal’s oversensitized skin. After a beat Will pulls almost all the way out and then thrusts back in firmly, causing them both to moan.
“Oh fuck Hannibal...nnn...so good.”
He does it again, teasing them both. Of their own accord Hannibal’s head drops and his eyes shut against the onslaught of pleasure. Some time later, when he finally opens his eyes he sees a glistening bead of precome dripping from his own cock onto Will’s bed and moans at the sight as Will continues to fuck him. It’s dirty and base and perfect - everything about this is perfect. He groans and presses back, snapping his hips so hard it causes their skin to clap.
That seems to spur Will on because suddenly Hannibal is being fucked fast and hard, needing both hands to brace himself on the bed to prevent falling over. He’s nearly overwhelmed with how good it feels - Will’s hands running over his body, gripping his hips, scratching his blunt nails down his back. He relishes hearing their moans blend together until he's is honestly not sure who is making what sound, but it doesn’t matter - right now they are one being.
Feeling like things are accelerating towards the precipice, Hannibal lifts one arm from where it’s braced on the bed, trying to touch his cock. However just as he completes the motion apparently Will has another idea because his arm wraps around his midsection and pulls him to standing. Hannibal can’t help the moan that escapes him at the show of strength, of being held so tightly back against Will’s body. In that moment he can believe Will needs him as much as he needs Will - both of them caught in an infinite loop of reciprocity and mutual desire.
Once upright and stable, Will’s hand snakes down the soft skin of Hannibal’s lower belly and joins his own hand stroking his cock. Will’s hand over his own controls the speed, slowing the pace but maintaining a steady rhythm that allows Hannibal’s head to clear a bit. It is that moment Hannibal notices that Will’s thrusts into him have stopped yet he is still buried deep inside of him, almost like he hit pause.
Will’s other hand trails up Hannibal’s abdomen, raking his fingers roughly through his chest hair before stopping at his throat, fingers splaying across the breadth of his neck. Behind him Will’s shirt is damp with sweat where it’s pressed against his back. A moment later Hannibal simultaneously feels teeth scrape along his shoulder blade as the fingers around his throat tighten.
“I still imagine killing you sometimes…” Will whispers into his ear, “...like this...with my hands...” As Will speaks the grip on his throat tightens, and to Hannibal’s surprise, despite the pressure on his airway, a moan escapes his lips at the admission. Realizing he should reply, Hannibal scrambles to try to get his aroused brain to formulate a response.
“There is no shame in that...you take pleasure in the idea of killing me, and also take pleasure from my body...they are both stored in the same area of your brain. The thought of killing me will probably always tempt you. You’ll want it as the glint of the rail tempts us when we hear the approaching train…”
“That doesn't bother you?” Will asks, although from his tone it could just as easily be an observation of fact as a question.
“I told you Will I love all you, every part of you. It’s up to you what you do...but I know we can share that pleasure...the pleasure of hunting together...killing together.” Hannibal places his hand over Will’s on this throat, squeezing tighter for a moment before coaxing it up. He takes two of Will’s fingers into his mouth which elicits a moan from the empath behind him.
Hannibal scrapes his teeth along the soft pads of Will’s fingertips which causes the younger man to whimper. However after a moment Will regains his composure and says in a both sultry and commanding voice, “Turn around, I want to see you.”
Liking that idea immensely, Hannibal turns around, both of them whimpering a little as Will slips out of him, and he automatically lays back on the bed. Instantly Will is kneeling over him, silhouetted against the moonlight streaming in through the window. He looks both quietly powerful and incredibly beautiful. The striking image surprisingly reminds Hannibal’s eidetic memory of a quote he read, “Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.” And he has to admit he is quivering now in the face of Will’s beauty. In that moment Hannibal truly can’t believe how lucky he is, not only to have found someone who can understand him, but to be wanted in turn by such a creature. Will embracing his true nature is truly more beautiful than he ever could have dreamed of.
Before he knows it Will is in position between his legs and easily slides back into him. The second they reconnect both men moan at the feeling of pleasure created through the joining of their bodies. Will’s head tilts back, eyes slipping shut in pleasure, his white teeth glinting as his mouth opens on a gasp - he’s so beautiful when he allows himself the freedom to feel like this. He resumes a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out of his body and Hannibal instantly likes it better this way. The feeling is more intense now that he can see Will’s face, see how it contorts with the effort of fucking him, see every minute detail of how Will feels. It’s intimate. It’s perfect.
All of a sudden Hannibal is overwhelmed with the desire to see all of Will, for there to be nothing in between them. He grabs Will’s shirt, using it to pull him down and kiss him, sighing into the kiss, at the rightness of them being together this way. The feel of cloth against his chest reminds him of his original goal and he can't wait - he takes a breath and pulls as hard as he can on the fabric still fisted in his hands. He smiles in satisfaction when the buttons give way, popping off allowing him to finally push the offending fabric away, exposing Will’s firm chest.
Above him Will moans, his hips stuttering for a moment - Hannibal belatedly guesses that the contraction of his muscles when he ripped his shirt probably squeezed Will’s cock inside of him. But he can’t spare that much thought because their kiss grows more fervent as Hannibal finally feels their bare chests pressed together. Another moan escapes his throat into their kiss at how good it feels as the pace of their coupling exponentially increases, Will thrusting hard and fast into his body. In that moment Hannibal wants them to be as close as physically possible, he feels like all their walls are down right now.
As their kiss gets more sloppy and chaotic, Will’s teeth catch his lip again and he tastes blood, groaning when he feels Will’s tongue slide over it - whether in apology or to taste his blood he’s not sure, but it makes no difference. The slight pain combined with the overwhelming pleasure heightens the experience, like adding salt to a dessert - it’s the perfect balance, it’s them. Finally their panting forces their kiss to break.
“Oh god Hannibal fuck-”
The pleasure inside of him is climbing higher and higher by the moment with every tantalizing brush of his prostate as Will fucks him, enhanced every time his hard cock gets friction where it’s trapped between their bodies. As if reading his mind (oh god the benefit of having an empath for a lover, Hannibal realizes) Will snakes a hand down between them, gripping his cock and stroking it as best he can as he continues to pound into him. Hannibal brings his own hand to cover Will’s on his cock, tightening the grip and increasing the pace.
“Oh god Will, Will-”
Hannibal brings his other arm around Will’s back, holding him close. Soon after Will moves his hand to better grip his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts which has Hannibal seeing stars.
“Oh god, come for me beautiful,” Will pants into the humid space between them.
In response, Hannibal strokes his cock faster, feeling the telltale tingle of impending climax. “Yes yes Will ah-”
As Hannibal’s orgasm washes over him, he feels his release jet out between their bodies, coating his hand as he continues to stroke himself, feeling the warm and sticky wetness ease the glide of his hand. Throughout it he continues to hold Will tightly to him, his mouth is open against Will’s shoulder. As another wave of pleasure courses through him Hannibal instinctively bites down on the skin in front of him, needing an anchor against the overwhelming rapturous feeling.
A moment later Will gasps, “Fuck Hannibal oh-” as he reaches his own climax. Hannibal watches Will’s face, sees his jaw clench, his sweaty curls plastered to his forehead as he surrenders to the feeling - he’s perfect. They are perfect.
Will’s hips still as he spills his seed deep within his body. As he does his body goes taught, tendons standing out at his neck. In that moment Hannibal realizes he likes the idea of Will physically giving part of himself to him. He has fantasized at times about eating Will, but this is infinitely more satisfying, and right now he is incredibly happy he never gave in to those desires.
As Hannibal comes down from his orgasmic high, the first thing he notices is a familiar taste but he can't seem to reconcile it in his lust addled mind...until all of a sudden it comes to him - blood. He opens his eyes, taking a moment to focus, and after a moment he realizes that he bit through the skin on Will’s shoulder - he’s tasting Will’s blood in his mouth. It shouldn’t be arousing but it is.
“Mmmm..” Hannibal groans, his cock giving one last twitch which causes Will to moan too, raising his head, looking down at him.
Above him Will gasps a little as he brings his thumb to Hannibal's mouth, running it over his lip before leaning down and kissing him, tenderly, reverently, deeply. As they kiss Hannibal feels tears spring to his eyes again at the powerful connection they have. Somehow it feels like this was more than just sex, that this was the consummation of their new relationship, the new life they are sharing now that he is finally known for who he really is and Will has finally broken through to embrace his true nature. Even though Will hasn't said the words, right now Hannibal feels loved.
As their breathing slowly returns to normal they continue to kiss, with no agenda other than because they want to, in no rush, just enjoying being with each other. After an indeterminate amount of time has passed in the blissful bubble of their post-coital kissing, Hannibal opens his eyes and sees Will’s blue eyes watching him from too close.
One of them must shift because in that moment Will’s cock slips out of him, causing them both to gasp, breaking the kiss. Will leans to the side, shrugging off his ruined shirt as Hannibal scoots further up on the bed. He then watches as Will pads to the door, letting the dogs back in before returning to bed. To Hannibal’s delight, Will crawls up next to him, rests his cheek against chest, and looks up at him with the same awe that Hannibal feels right now.
“You said you loved me,” Will says, almost sounding incredulous, like even now he might not believe it.
“I do,” Hannibal says, instinctively reaching out to encircle Will in his arms, holding him tightly.
“I love you too,” Will says quietly, looking directly at him, then adds, “...all of you.”
That statement is the last piece of the puzzle - Hannibal feels like life is perfect right now. This is all he ever wanted, for both of them. He had wondered how Will felt about him, hoped with all his heart, but now he has heard it with his own ears. Will loves him. The real him.
Hannibal smiles and pulls Will up to kiss him properly, wondering what the future holds for them. Like everything concerning Will Graham he’s not 100% sure, but he is incredibly curious. The world is their oyster, and together they will be an unstoppable force, it will only matter what they want. But for now all he wants to do is hold Will tight. So he does.
I'm pretty sure that this isn't how our story ends
“I can’t believe it…” Alana says, shaking her head as if denying it enough will change the truth. The note she found in Will’s kitchen is crumpled in her hands, worn thin from the hours of attention it has received. Dog hair clings to her pantyhose from transporting six dogs earlier in the day.
Jack sighs, rubbing his hand over his face in resignation. “This isn’t how the story was supposed to end…”
In front of them on the computer screen is tattlecrime.com, and above a picture of Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham the headline reads MURDER HUSBANDS ON THE RUN.