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Nighttime was the best time to kill someone.Will
knew
that.He also knew that because nighttime was the best time to kill someone, people were more wary - there was no trust and every movement was scrutinised, paranoia clinging to the air like a bad smell. There were clear boundaries at night that didn't exist in the day: a person was more likely to cross the road if someone headed their way than walk past them. That would be lunacy when the sun was awake, but under the white light of the moon, it was justifiable. Because everyone knew that things
lurked
in the dark shadows, waiting and watching for any sign of weakness; waiting to leap forward and drag souls down into twisted perversions and desperate violence.That being said, Will knew that after buying someone a few drinks and watching them gulp it eagerly down their throat, instantly it may as well be midday, because people were vulnerable and
trusting, clinging like newborns to him as he led them astray. If he weren't going to kill them, he'd have been revolted at how he let them paw at his chest, sucking bruises into his throat and groping at his cock. Men, women, it didn't matter - they were all the same. Tripping, stumbling like newborn foals and drowning in the ocean blue of his eyes, rutting like mindless dogs at the anticipation of sleeping with the beautiful, curly haired youth they'd snared, and Will buzzing with his own anticipation, always hardened at the thought of cutting them open, slicking his hands with their blood, or choking them out, watching the life leave their eyes mindlessly. Mostly he hunted the sober - and whoever he felt like - but on nights like this one, with his mind tearing itself apart, he needed something easy. It was when he was most likely to make a mistake - having gone too long without the buzz beneath his skin and too fired up on hormones to concentrate on it all. Despite being so young, he knew enough to make him feel like an old man when it came to murder. And not many twenty-one year old's could say that.Sometimes he fucked them before he killed them. Too wound up, he needed an outlet before he let go too early. When he had women, he spread their legs, grinning harshly and punished them with hard, bruising thrusts that left them screaming, groaning, whining in pleasure, nails digging into his back as their walls rippled around them. He never came in them because the clean up was just too much effort, but he liked it when they came around him. It took the edge off it all. The men, however, were different. He couldn't help himself when it came to the men. He started with them on their knees, slurping down on his cock like it was the best thing they'd ever tasted, while he stretched them open wider and wider until they keened at the pressure on their prostates. He fucked them hard, bare and always,
always
came inside them. He tended to kill the men while he fucked them: his orgasm pulled from him as they finally stopped struggling. He didn't know why it felt so good.
But it did. So he kept doing it.
It was one of
those
nights when he met him. After three murders in as many weeks, the gutted pigs staged to show the offences they'd committed against Will, not that the local PD understood, he wanted an easy target before he skipped town. Being a drifter meant a limitless population of targets, but no ties or consistent lodgings. His dogs were the only constant in his young life.There was a pretty blonde currently smiling at him from underneath her eyelashes and immediately Will felt a ripple of calm pass over him. It would be easy - a kill, nothing more, and his monster would be fine for a few months: fully sated and content to let him live normally underneath his person suit.
Then a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. "She's hardly worth your time," a deep, lilting voice murmured against the shell of his ear.
As pick up lines went, it was not the worst he'd ever heard, but it made him snort and turn in the embrace, pretty blonde disappearing from his thoughts at the prospect of a more interesting target. He was surprised at the man behind him however. He was at least double Will's age - something that made him shiver with want - and he looked better suited for a
ball
than a bar, but there was something dark and dangerous lurking in his eyes that made Will harden instantly. A small, half smile, gone before he could properly register it, told Will his companion had noticed his arousal.
"And you are?" Will asked, leaning forward, feeling suddenly drunk, his mind tumbling at the man before him. "Worth my time, I mean?"The maroon-eyed man grinned sharply. "Yes," he nodded and Will's hind-brain screamed
predator. Fuck, he realised, the man was
like him, and he shivered in pleasure because it became clear that he'd probably been doing this as long as Will had - maybe since before Will had even been born. Oh, it had been a while since he'd run into a kindred spirit and there was always the age old dilemma - fuck, avoid or kill. It seemed the broad shouldered monster wrapped in motorbike leather was angling for the first of the three options and it would be the only time a similarly inclined individual had tempted Will enough to consider fucking."Would you look as good painted in red, though?" Will breathed into his skin, his lips on the man's neck, tongue darting out to lick at the salt there. An involuntary jerk of his companion's hips told him all he needed to know about the killer in his arms.Suddenly they were moving.
They barely made it to the alley before Will was slammed into the wall. His eyes fluttered shut as his head connected with the brick with a painful thwack. A groan tore free from his throat as a hand forced its way into his trousers. Oh he wanted to
keep
this monster - chain him up and never let him go - because the more he saw, the more he liked, the more he noticed how similar they both were to one another. "Yes," he growled, snarling as a rough, calloused hand tugged him free of his boxers and the other crept around to pull at his dry hole. It was going to
hurt, but Will had always had a thing for pain. He cried out as a particularly cruel twist of the older man's wrist sent pain-pleasure skittering along his nerves."Good boy, little one," he crooned, edging closer and bringing his fingers up to shove inside Will's mouth and the youth sucked on them hungrily. Eventually the older man pulled away, fingers drifting south again, and the pads of his fingers ran over his rim. "Open up, little boy," he whispered. Protest at the name died on his lips as another
twist-slick-slide
of his hand, accompanied by the two digits forcing their way inside him, left him mindless.Then he started toying with him.
"Steady there little one," he chuckled, eyes dark with lust and hunger as he pulled off Will's trousers and ripped free his boxers. "Barely off your mother's breast and already so
twisted. I might keep you," another wry chuckle, before: "I saw your work.""Yeah?" Will gasped, shoving his hips down sharply and ignoring the half-whine that broke free of his throat when the fingers stabbed at his prostate. God, fuck, this monster saw him, he could understand him, appreciate him. Hell, he was harder than he ever remembered being before.
"Beautiful," the older man crooned, biting at his neck harshly. Will was trembling violently then and grateful when his companion shifted, dropping his roaming fingers and releasing the tight grip on his cock to fish his own appendage from his trousers and guide it to the spit-stretched hole. "You don't let them fuck you, do you?" he asked as he hovered close enough to touch.
"Never," Will breathed. The man groaned long and hard at the confession before he forced himself inside, ignoring the high, desperate mewls spilling from Will as he carved a place for himself inside the boy. He hoisted one leg up, hooking his arm underneath his knee and bending Will into an uncomfortable position. He was a sight, Will knew: naked from the waist down, crowded against the cold brick wall of a seedy alley beside a third tier nightclub and looking more like the prostitutes often found there than a patron. Not to mention, of course, the thick cock and growling murderer pinning him there.
"Good
boy," he groaned as though physically in pain, "you're so good for me. Ah,
ah, such a good boy," he parroted as he began to thrust in long, jarring strokes. Will whined high in his throat again, eyes opening wide. He could suddenly see the blonde over his companions shoulder, cigarette hanging limply between her fingers and her mouth slightly open too, clearly stunned at a potential lay being fucked like a whore by a man twice his age and twice his size.
"Ah, fuck,
ah, they're watching," he hissed.
The man only snarled, speeding up his thrusts and grinning madly at the sounds Will made as he hammered his prostate. And when Will finally came, stars burned behind his eyes, and he clenched down hard enough to pull his companion into his own orgasm.
"I'm Will," he finally said, slurring slightly, but a shit-eating grin on his face as the twitching and growling finally stopped and his companion went soft inside him.
"Hannibal," the maroon-eyed monster replied with a smile that showed too much teeth.
"Hi," he responded, "we're going to be doing that again." His tone held no room for argument.
"As you wish, little one," Hannibal purred, easing himself out and smirking when half of his come splattered on the floor beneath them and the other slid down the inside of Will's thigh.
"And we're going to kill people too," Will added seductively, sashaying his hips slightly as he moved to his trousers, pulled them up and tucked the remains of his boxers into his pocket."As you wish little one," the man repeated against the back of his neck, biting gently and huffing with amusement when the younger man shivered. "We will kill and fuck for as long as I'm in town.""How long?" Will asked.
"Three weeks.""Okay," he grinned as his cock gave a faint, interested twitch, "well I'm not yet sated, and I can tell you my monster isn't."The growl that echoed in Hannibal's throat had Will's cock standing to full attention and his monster howl in anticipation.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Jack Crawford irritated him. It was more than the usual irritation - the itch under his skin that Will felt towards humanity in general - and more a constant buzz in the back of his mind that he'd like to stab the man in the eye with a fork. He was loud, brash and thought too little of people like Will: those who had talent and were seemingly easy to manipulate. He'd watched in amusement as the man crumbled when Miriam Lass went missing, because that had been some of the best entertainment he'd had in a long time. He had toasted the Ripper that evening and his quiet crush on the serial mutilator had grown as much as his annoyance at Jack had. But despite both the need to piss off Crawford and the burning want to drag his nails down the body of Baltimore's most notorious killer, Will
had stayed far away from the Ripper. He'd stayed away because despite the arousal that stirred within him, and the glaringly obvious taunts to law enforcement that made him want to reply, Will didn't want to be involved. If he was involved, he'd be forced to help or he'd be on the Ripper's radar and the monster seemed to be the kind to kill first and ask questions later. And Will couldn't fuck him if he was dead.All in all, Will was over that shit.
Will was also over the way Jack tried to appeal to his better angels as he sidled up to him after class with flattery and pleas that if Will weren't so
good at pretending, would have made him laugh. And oh he was very good at pretending. The very fact he'd managed to embed himself in the heart of the FBI spoke volumes as to his ability. He'd been a
police officer, then a consultant, then an FBI Special Agent, and it was all thanks to his monster. His dark, twisted, beautiful, Lithuanian monster: Hannibal. A man who, despite sharing few moments with Will, had changed his life completely. The man had shown him how to kill in ways he'd only fantasised about, fucked him hard enough to rattle the teeth in his jaw, and had opened his eyes to the possibilities that life could offer. All in all, when the Lithuanian finally left after their shared weeks together, Will had transcended from a twenty-one year old serial killer to a force of wrath and darkness that writhed and crippled those around him with a glance.His ability to hide the violent urges that lay beneath his skin and obscure the truth from even the most talented of investigators - both had been important lessons from the foreigner - meant, unfortunately, that people like Jack thought they could steam roll right over him. It meant that while he could obscure his kills amongst those he hunted and know whenever something potentially damning could noose him, he would have to put up with the people he'd enjoy killing the most. It would be obvious if after one of his more famous disputes with Jack, the Guru was found coughing up his own intestines...although it didn't stop Will fantasising about it.Walking into Jack's office, Will had been prepared: prepared to fight Jack on everything and indulge himself in the horrors of anything, slick his hands with the blood of their kills and jump into their heads so he could finally let his own monster loose without arousing suspicion. He was prepared for anything.
Except
Him.
It had been years since he'd seen the man, but Hannibal was always recognisable to Will. How could he forget the face of the man who had given him so much? Who had carved out a place inside Will just to make room for himself? He felt suddenly sick - no doubt from nerves and from anticipation - but sick nevertheless. Ten years had passed and the European stood in Jack Crawford's office, within touching distance...And judging from the blank look in those dangerous eyes, Hannibal didn't have a clue who he was.
Admittedly, he knew he'd changed a lot. Will was sure had he strode in naked, Hannibal was more likely to know just who he was, given how they had spent most of their time: covered in blood or come, there tended not to be an in between. But it still hurt, because while the twenty-one year old that had lured patrons from nightclubs with skinny-jeans, cherry-red bitten lips and who wore sex like a perfume was gone, his curls and bright blue eyes (two features that Hannibal had adored) hadn't changed. Surely the man should at least notice the
similarities.
"Dr Hannibal Lecter, this is Will Graham," Jack introduced after a moment. There was a flicker of interest in Hannibal's eyes before it vanished and he held out his hand in greeting.How
dull.
Will ignored the handshake, narrowing his eyes and trying not to shiver at their proximity. It was also difficult not to drown in the familiar dark, vile twist of emotion in Hannibal's eyes at the rebuff. Oh,
Will remembered, his trigger was the rude.
"I don't need a Doctor, Jack," Will snapped because as thrilling as having Hannibal there was, he hadn't been brought into the case to give Will erections and warm memories, "so what the hell is he doing here?""To consult," Jack replied, tone leaving no room for argument. "So sit," he ordered. Will huffed, but threw himself down into the seat and took a large sip from the coffee cup before him, ignoring the sudden focus of the man by his side. "So," Jack began, drawing in a breath, "the Ripper."Will groaned.
"No, Jack," he retorted, standing, "you know I don't consult on the Ripper.""Will -" Jack protested, beginning a long, drawn out speech that the profiler tuned out immediately, because he'd just had a thought. The grotesque beauty of the Ripper had always rung a little to close to home: too art-like, too violent, too
Hannibal. Hannibal was the Ripper. Will was sure. It seemed his darling monster had evolved from their last meeting to something that elevated even the filth of their world to beauty.
Which meant that Jack was using the Ripper to try and catch the Ripper.
It also meant that Jack was trying to convince the Ripper's student into catching the Ripper.
It seemed the universe hated Jack as much as Will did.
A knock at the door broke through Jack's tirade and Will swapped an amused glance with Hannibal at the pause. The European seemed surprised at Will's familiarity, especially given his refusal to shake his hand, but he hid the emotion well. At the sound of the latch, Will turned slightly and his irritation doubled.
Alana-fucking-Bloom.
Now Alana was nothing like Jack. She didn't force him into doing profiling, nor did she use pleas to save the innocent. No, what Alana - sweet, silky-haired Alana - did was much worse. Alana pretended to be his friend, her professional curiosity not even thinly veiled, and she believed Will was too delicate and too stupid not to notice that for every action of friendship came hand in hand with study. She was a hypocrite and an ego-maniac, convinced he wanked himself off at night at the thought of her. Will had fucked a lot of people and teased himself over several more, but she had never come close to making the cut. It was safe to say that Will disliked Alana more than he disliked Jack and if he ever got the chance, he'd take out those pretty, patronising, pity-filled eyes of hers with a spoon.
In reality, he half-smiled, half-grimaced at her, the way one friend would to another when completely
done with a situation. She responded in kind, before turning to Hannibal and fucking
grinning.
"Hannibal," she greeted brightly, "such a surprise.""Alana," Hannibal chuckled, steadily rising to meet her and dropping a kiss on each cheek. Her blush made the blood in Will's veins burn because
absolutely not.
"Will," she said, smiling sweetly and turning towards him after staring at the Lithuanian for just a fraction too long."Good to see you Alana," he replied, keeping the anger from his tone - although not entirely successfully if the curious, almost confused look from Hannibal was anything.
"You too Will," she said, blushing again when Hannibal motioned for her to occupy his now empty seat. She nodded before sitting herself down gracefully.
"The Ripper, Will," Jack prompted.
There was a long pause, as though Will were wrestling with himself before: "What have you got?" Like hell he wasn't going to get involved now he knew he could fuck the Ripper without ending up as mincemeat. Not to mention, of course, that Hannibal might need an ally on the team who knew just who and what he was. Alibis might be necessary further down the line...
Jack grinned in triumph and fished a stack of pictures from the pile on his desk, handing them over quickly, like Will might change his mind and leave. The man couldn't know that with Hannibal hovering over his shoulder, Will wouldn't be going
anywhere for the foreseeable future.There was a man and a woman: both butchered in typical Ripper fashion: arms and legs severed, choking on their tongues which had been shoved down their own throats. It was a typical scene, but:"She's not worth his time," Will announced, tapping a finger on the woman who held less art and more...obligation? Had she been in the way? Or was she less offensive? Either way, Hannibal hadn't focused on her. "It was the man he wanted."Jack's brow furrowed, but before he managed to ask,
His
voice came from behind. "Why do you think that is?"Will hid a smile and turned in his seat, pinning the European to the spot with his gaze. He let his tongue poke from between his teeth and wet his lips before shrugging once and looking up through hooded eyes. "She doesn't look good painted in red."Ah,
there...
Recognition.
Hannibal's pupils blew as he finally saw.Will smirked and turned back to Jack.
Game. Fucking. On.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"You know, most people would be offended about being forgotten."It had taken less than eight minutes after their dismissal from Jack's office for Hannibal to free himself from Alana's grubby paws and weave his way through the halls of the FBI to Will in his empty lecture hall. Not that Will had timed him, of course. Because that would be bordering on obsessive... who was he kidding, if he could have counted the milliseconds, he would have. There was always something about Hannibal that brought out the crazy in him.A hand snaked its way around his waist, possessive, claiming, tight. Will huffed out a laugh, shoulders shaking slightly, because only Hannibal would attempt that shit. "Easy there Chesapeake," he smirked, already plotting a way to make his monster pay for his slip up. There was no way he was letting the whole thing go.The hand tightened even further.
"Clever boy," Hannibal growled against the back of his neck, breath tickling his ear and making Will suddenly desperate to grind back against him.
Fuck, he'd missed him."Well you didn't pick me for my looks alone,
baisūnas," he replied, hand dropped to hold Hannibal's in place... for the moment. It was nice to be in the presence of someone real. Someone who didn't demand Will hide away the dark, frightening parts of himself.
Hannibal laughed lightly, inhaling deeply before he responded. "Not alone,
mylimasis.""Sweet
talker,"
Will hissed. "Although you'll have to do better than that,
I'm not as easy as I once was." He rested his head back on Hannibal's shoulder, mouth parting just enough to entice the man. The Doctor leaned forwards, drawn in by the loose curls and blue eyes peering out at him. Oh, his monster was still so
easy - a bat of the eyelashes, a swing of the hips and a mere mention of gruesome murder and Hannibal was eating out the palm of his hand. In a way it was nice to see that the man was still so gone on him - well gone enough to be enthralled
after he had to be told who Will was. It was such a double-edged sword. The mother of all back-handed compliments.
"And we're not fucking here," he added when the European's other hand began to wander, "so you might want to save those honeyed words of yours."
"I've fucked you in worse places," Hannibal murmured, palming him through the front of his trousers, "and in front of more people.""I was young and eager then.""Still eager, I hope," he shot back, growing steadily more smug as Will hardened under his touch.
"Wouldn't you like to know."There was a pause and Will wondered at the sight they made. To the outside eye they were two strangers: one a smartly and expensively dressed doctor, the other a scruffy, anti-social and odd teacher, but were wound around each other like lovers. Hands and limbs so tangled up it was unclear whose were whose. There was a sort of artwork to the pair of them, a balance, light, dark, yin-yang: all that crap he thought. Part of him wanted to stay there forever, trapped in a single moment for eternity where their hormones were raging, their blood heated and nothing could turn them against one another. Two beautiful, twisted things twisted around each other. The poetry of it all made a breathy exhale slip between his teeth...although he was sure the way the Doctor squeezed him may have helped.
"I've missed you so," Hannibal finally breathed out quietly.Will swallowed the sudden lump in his throat at the sentiment, trying to retain control. "We spent mere moments together, Hannibal.""Moments shape a lifetime,
gražuolė
."
Oh hell,
Will thought,
that smooth talking bastard has only gotten better at charming his way into my pants. But he'd be damned if he was going to give in that easily. He flicked his eyes over, gaze resting on the crease where his neck met his collar bone, before he lurched forward and sank his teeth in.
The sound Hannibal made wasn't human but with the blood bursting on his tongue, Will's brain was too fried to register it. It was a taste he had missed: the copper, salted tang that he had often licked from Hannibal's lips when he bit too hard during their fucks. It was like ambrosia to him and brought him back to days of hard screws and the best, bloody kills. Hannibal pulled away, shoving Will forward hard. The profiler didn't stumble, but instead fell against the desk, barely able to keep the smile of his face. There was blood running down his chin, in his teeth and gums, but the most was coating the collar of Hannibal's pretentious shirt. He looked furious, rabid even, but the painful strain in his crotch told a different story. His monster could play pretend with the world, but never with Will.
"You didn't recognise me,
kalė," Will snarled, before jumping up to sit on the desk behind him, forcing his body to be open and lax, leaning back as though they were exchanging recipes or phone numbers, not moments away from tearing into each other like wild dogs. "And while I may not be a normal person, I'm still fucking
pissed." He grinned, feral. "So,
darling, we're going to have some fun before I let you bend me over the nearest fucking table. I like a game of cat-and-mouse as much as the next person and well, the Ripper is the catch of the day."
Hannibal took a menacing step forward, eyes bottomless black pits, but Will continued on, unfazed. Hannibal was still just as regal, just as proper - and frankly if he were going to kill him, he'd have the good decency to at least tell him first. He owed Will that much."If you can court me like you used to, stay ahead of Crawford and put the Ripper behind bars, I'll let you have every part of me, including the monster you helped nurture. I'll hunt with you, cook with you, fuck you, and why not, I'll let you parade me around in your world like the best in show. If you can manage it though. Something tells me you'll find a way," he barked out a laugh. "You probably haven't had a companion like
that in a while, right?" His tone dropped to something low and sultry. "Or ever, other than me..."Wasn't
that a thought, Will mused, drinking in the sight of his monster so ruffled and bloody."Court you?" the doctor growled, the blood on his skin apparently inconsequential given how little attention he had paid it. The bite would probably need stitches though."I'm an old-fashioned guy,
baisūnas.""As am I," he paused, thoughtful, "as for chaining the Ripper...?""Ugh," Will groaned as though bored, as though the whole thing was obvious. "Pick someone
darling," he snorted, snide, "and make them believe it. It shouldn't be too difficult with your talents, I wouldn't have thought..."Another step forward and a slow, violent, promise filled smile slunk across Hannibal's features. "You've always been so twisted, little one," he crooned, closing the remaining distance between them impossibly fast -
dizzyingly
fast."You like me that way," Will snarled, tilting his head back and baring his own throat: a dare and a temptation. How far would Hannibal go before he bent to the profiler's will? How much would he tug and pull at the challenge the blue eyed man had laid down?
A dark, throaty chuckle was the only reply. It crawled out of his mouth and flung itself from his tongue, spilling into the room and soaking the space in itself. It spoke volumes of the man's intentions, but the European was clearly in the right mood given the way he opened his mouth to speak. "You want bodies, William," he began slowly, "I will burn down the world and drag up hell from below to give you all there is, was, and can possibly be. The fire will burn so bright, you'll be blinded and the air will become so thick with ashes, you'll choke. Then I'll have you Will, in the mud, on the hood of my car, against the walls of my house, in my bed - chained and nowhere to go.
You were too young before, you needed to see the world, but this time,
mylimasis,
I really
will keep you."Will smirked, leaning forward and pressing his words to shell of the Doctor's ear, keeping his movements deliberately slow and teasing. He wanted to enjoy this after all."Now that's my kind of promise," he said, before
sinking his teeth into the unmarked side of
Hannibal's
neck and grinning at the growl he earned in reply.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Will woke to sound of a high pitched ringing.
Ugh. Phone.He was more than tempted to roll over and ignore it, especially given what it had interrupted:
bliss.
It had been the best dream he'd had in a while: him, Hannibal and a shit load of whipped cream. And not the pretentious, hand-whipped stuff but the canned, cheap nasty type that Will had used to trace the lines of his body simply because he'd wanted to arouse and piss off his monster in equal measure. The way his European had looked at him had left him eager, straining and the sheet tenting harshly. Will didn't need to roll over to know who would be calling at such a time... the sun hadn't finished climbing into the sky and was barely slinking over the horizon. There were no sounds in the house other than his phone and not even the birds were making noise.
Oh, he had never wanted to kill Jack more.
Will reached over blindly, pulling the phone to his ear. "Yeah," he croaked, voice low.
"I need you," Jack started without so much as a hello. "The scene's fresh, I've kept everyone off it. I want you to be the first in," he added.
"Right," Will continued, uninterested, eyes flicking down to his rapidly wilting erection.
"It looks like him, Will," the Chief added.
"Him?""The Ripper," he clarified. Oh, his cock twitched at that.
"Right," he replied, wetting his lips. "Text me the address.""Move your ass, Will," Jack said, hanging up and leaving Will more than a little interested. He dropped his phone to the bed, letting his hand drift slowly southwards and creep beneath the sheets. His boxers, much like his undershirt, were soaked through, although with a slightly different bodily fluid. He pulled them down, but only enough to let his cock spring free and the head poke over the top of his waistband. It looked painful, but the steady ooze of white wetting the tip made it easier to drag his hand over the head and steadily down his shaft. He groaned long and low - he didn't have time for it, he should probably wait too because he was sure any orgasm would be infinitely better after seeing Hannibal's gift. Hannibal's first move in their long, long
chess match.
He was scrambling for his phone before he registered it. It only rung twice before the Doctor answered.
"Hello," was the answer. Will
groaned long and hard, hand dragging up and down his cock teasingly at the sound of the man's voice. There was a sharp intake of breath. "William," Hannibal replied, tone dropping so fast through the registers, it made the profiler dizzy. "Oh my cunning
boy," he continued, snarling. "Teasing little boy." Will groaned again, squeezing and thrusting up into his fist, barely biting back the breathy exhales punching out of his mouth.
Fuck, he was close; he'd been ready to blow after that dream, he felt positively desperate now. "You're not making this easy darling," Hannibal snapped. One more slick, twist,
slide of his hand and Will was crying out, body going taut and back arching. His vision whited and it took more than a few heavy, eager draws of air into his lungs to clear it again. It took a few seconds after he'd calmed his heart to hear the low grunts and slick sounds that told Will
exactly what Hannibal was doing. The curly-haired man listened for a few moments as he dragged his finger through the come in his crotch and the wet patch now soaking his t-shirt. He felt better - loose-limbed and relaxed: more ready to face whatever Jack would throw at him verbally and the irritation he would no doubt feel from the technicians, Alana, local police and no doubt that red-headed bitch with an apparent personal vendetta and need to out him as a psychopath. Hannibal was working himself up, getting closer and closer if the time between his pants was any indication. Will hummed thoughtfully before huffing out a laugh, a smirk slinking across his face.
Not yet.
He hung up, tossing his phone aside and throwing back the covers. He peeled off his clothes, dropping them in the hamper on the way to the bathroom, before jumping in the shower. He felt too at ease to try and bring himself off again, so settled with washing away the evidence of his morning with punctual efficiency and scrubbing at his skin dispassionately. He had showered, dried himself off, dressed and was watching his dogs run about outside, a bowl of measly cereal in his hand, before his phone buzzed again. Jack, with an address, and another, less than polite encouragement that he hurry. Will huffed out a sigh, whistled to his dogs, packed up and meandered out to his car, hot coffee in one hand and teaching files in his other. He was once again the teacher - the broken, on-the-spectrum man with too blue eyes and a dark sense of humour that made others uncomfortable. It wasn't his best persona, but it was, by far, one of the most comfortable. Being
that
version of himself was like slipping into a pair of well-worn shoes. He knew what to expect and he never felt too out of sorts.
He spent most of the journey fantasising, although less about the crime scene - he was sure that nothing he could conjure in his mind would come close to Hannibal's vision for him - and more about what life they could have together. Will would be lying if he said he hadn't been surprised by Hannibal's confession at wanting to
keep
him. Partly, of course, because despite the affection running deep on his part, he'd never considered that the older man saw him as anything other than a fuckable protegee: someone to indulge in but not stay with. A fling, a fancy, so to speak. To hear how Hannibal had wanted Will to see the world first, how he was too young
then had offered a hope that they could be more than they were. It was a flame Will had never allowed himself to fan - his personality latching onto things so easily, it would have been dangerous to consider an impossibility.
It wasn't an impossibility anymore.
The crime scene was relatively busy. In fact more so than usual, although the heavy presence of the local police were no doubt inflating the numbers of people scurrying around like worker ants. He spotted the familiar, flaming red hair of Freddie Lounds before he'd even put the car in park, but it took a moment to pick out Katz, Zeller and Price. Jack, however, was just as obvious as the 'journalist', striding around like a bull in a china shop, nostrils just as flared and eyes just as wide. Will wondered how Jack thought he could be subtle or gentle with anything, he was so stubborn headed and forceful. Just as he'd predicted, Alana was there too. He couldn't see the woman, but her car was parked three up from his, the sight prodding at the durability of the zen-like state he'd acquired after his more than satisfying orgasm. His inner-peace held for the moment, but he'd not seen her yet.
Jack barely let him exit the car before he was stomping over to meet him. Will plastered his traditional half frown in place and dropped his eyes as the Guru crowded over him. "You're late," he said by way of greeting. Will huffed in response, slurping on the cold dregs of what remained of his coffee, and nodded as a silent instruction to take him to the body.
"It's soup," Price warned as he passed, pausing to offer Will a set of gloves, which he refused with a grimace. His mind turned as they passed more officers, but then they rounded the corner and stepped into the motel room, and Will realised he was right.
He could never have imagined
that.
"Name's Douglas J. Fielding," Jack began in that tone that told Will there was something about the victim that he should know, "and he was found by the manager." A slight deviation to jerk his head at a man covered in the bright orange of a shock blanket out in the car-park was enough of an explanation. There was a pause as Will drank in the sight. "Alright," the Chief shouted, "clear the room." Several technicians looked up in frustration, begrudgingly leaving, dragging their feet as they did. Some sent glares Will's way, but he only handed Jack his empty flask and gestured that he wait outside. He nodded and shut the door behind him.
It was beautiful.
Douglas was sat upright on the bed, long legs stretching out beneath him, wearing trousers and nothing else. His chest had been cracked open, ribs bent back on themselves, flayed out like the chest cavity had been opened like a pair of double doors. The skin, loose from the abuse, had been rolled up and tucked inside his open chest cavity, out of the way where he was less unsightly. His mouth was open and his expression panicked - no doubt Hannibal's intent given the bouquet of Irises shoved down his throat. The stalks had been pulled through his skin, sharp and deadly looking, and they dripped blood into his lap. Lilacs and Lavender filled the empty cavity, but they too had been stained red by the blood of the victim. The whole bed was stained red with it.It was simple, but typically Hannibal. Will couldn't help but snort,
because it was kind of sweet to send your sweetheart flowers. He turned to open the door and let Jack in.
"It's him," Will said, trying to look confused as he dragged a hand over his face and took his flask back out of Jack's hand.
"...and?" the Guru prompted.
"I'm no flower expert Jack, but I can guarantee that these all mean something. And I'm pretty sure it's going to mean affection.""Affection?" High-pitched and surprised, Zeller butted into the conversation.
Will snorted again, ignoring the warm spread creeping through him at his conclusion. "He's wooing a long lost love Jack," he smiled tightly, "this is a gift.""Wait," Zeller again, "The
Ripper has himself a
girlfriend?!""Not yet," Will responded, voice tight before moving away and fishing his phone from his pocket.
"Will,"
Hannibal replied, sounding more wound up than Will thought he would be. He smirked. Oh."You waited," he grinned.
A huff, almost displeasure. "You know I did," was the reply.
Will laughed. "Well, thank you for my bouquet this morning," he began, smiling darkly and ducking his head, "it was beautiful.""You're welcome.""Are you alone?" Will asked, voice sultry.
"...yes.""Go on then
baisūnas."
There was silence before a long, desperate exhale of breath. Some rustling and then: "Will.""Go on Hannibal," he urged, biting his lip as he listened to his favourite monster bring himself to the edge. And when he was close: "Come for me,
baisūnas."
The European groaned, half snarling as he let go. Will let the man have a few minutes to compose himself before he spoke again. "A good start.""...Thank you," he exhaled. "Can I interest you in dinner?""As long as it's just dinner," Will laughed, "I need some boundaries when it comes to you.""Why?"Will laughed but didn't reply, instead glancing up at the impatient face Jack was currently throwing at him from a distance. "I have to go, I'll see you later.""Until later
gražuolė," Hannibal murmured, "good luck catching your Ripper."My Ripper, Will thought. He couldn't help but laugh again, shuttering his darkness as Jack drew closer. "I'm a good fisherman Hannibal, I'll reel him in no problem."
"Will!" Jack called. The profiler nodded, tucking his phone away, his monster's chuckle still echoing in his ear.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Will found himself anticipating dinner more than he expected to. Jack had been particularly difficult for the rest of the day - the Ripper managing to crawl underneath his skin in a way that no other serial killer could - and that meant that Will was desperate to drop the wooden facade of his mask, and who best to do so with than the man who helped fashion the very thing?
He knew his monster would try something with him too - he couldn't not. Hannibal might try standing just a little too close, or perhaps he might wear
those trousers, that made his thighs bulge and the strain of his cock just a little more obvious. He may even forego all sense of subtly and stride, stark naked, erection jutting shamelessly out in front, knowing Will could do little other than drop to his knees, salivating. The thought alone was dizzying. He may have set the ground rules, but Will knew his monster, and he was as dangerous and as unpredictable as any wild, feral thing. It was made him so special, after all. Their dinner would be an interesting war of words, wants and tantalizing temptations, all things Will craved desperately. He had not become so aware of how much he had missed Hannibal until he had slithered back into his life.
It took him only moments to chose what he would wear for the evening: slimming, neat, grey trousers; a tailored, crisp, white shirt; and, just because he could, a charcoal grey suit vest that brought in his waist and made him look both incredibly respectable, but also incredibly fuckable. His fashion sense, while often straying towards the comfortable, had learned just enough from the Lithuanian to create the image of a well-dressed, sophisticated young man. Will forewent his glasses and left his curls loose and soft, knowing full-well his eyes and hair were Hannibal's favourite features and two things the man struggled to say no to. When he glanced in the mirror before departing, he found a ghost of a smile pulling at the edges of his lips. Let the game begin, he thought.
It was not a long drive to Hannibal's house but it felt like it. Every glowing street lamp, streaking out in a orange blur against the black tarmac, blinked past him sluggishly. Even when he inched the needle higher, pushing the speed limit, it still felt as though he was driving through treacle. He knew it was the anticipation. The desperation to see just what his darling
baisūnas
was going to do, or try. It was late when he arrived, probably at least forty minutes past when Hannibal was expecting him, and while Will had been eager to reach his European, he had to stick to his boundaries for as long as he could. There was no game otherwise. Not to mention, of course, that Hannibal's interest and desire of Will no doubt stemmed from his uniqueness, and the curly haired man didn't want to risk loosing his European's focus too early on in the insane dance they were beginning to embark upon. He cared for the man too much. If he was honest with himself, he worried often about what Hannibal would think if he every saw Will again - and Will, too drunk on the notion of being near the Lithuanian again, desperately wanted to meet then supersede any and all expectations.
The place was as beautiful and as pretentious as he expected. Hannibal, it seemed, had not only met Will's, and his own, standards, but surpassed them, creating a stunning, sophisticated mask in which to hide behind. It was perfectly crafted, despite the intricacies and the undeniable difficulties in doing so. There was an overwhelming sense of pride that raced through him, followed quickly, and violently, by longing - an emotion that shocked Will - because he suddenly wanted nothing more than to share in that. He had meant what he said to Hannibal about being a partner in all things, about being paraded around like best in show, yet it hit him just how much he would actually enjoy that. His unexpected emotion wasn't the only surprise, however, as he turned into the driveway and put the car in park. As while the gleaming, black Bentley was, without doubt, Hannibal's, the second, older,
cheaper
car was most certainly not.
It seemed he wasn't the only guest invited to their reunion meal.
What. A. Fucking. Monster.
His longing made way for anger, then for the familiar thrill that burnt his veins when he hunted as he clambered from the car. Perhaps that was the intention of his baisūnas, to drive up the bloodlust swilling around in his system...? Maybe this was to be his next gift? - the gift of a kill, christening their reunion. Although surely Hannibal would have struggled to keep that to himself... which meant that this was a move in their match, not a present waiting to be presented by a courtier, as Will hoped. Then came a crash of almost despair - because they weren't going to have the meal that Will had been so desperately craving. He heaved in a steadying breath, then
rapped his knuckles harshly against the wood before slipping his hands into his pockets and waiting. It took only half a dozen heartbeats before the door swung open and revealed Hannibal.There was a moment where Will felt a smug sense of joy because even though the Lithuanian probably had the upper hand, he didn't the moment he greeted him. In that moment he was struck stupidly mute because he clearly hadn't expected Will to arrive clad in the clothes he was. He had probably thought he'd be in slacks and his work shirt, not sharply dressed in clothes Hannibal himself would have chosen for him. Will smirked almost cruelly as he drank in the sight of the blown, black pupils. "I bet you're really relishing inviting others, eh
baisūnas?" he murmured, stepping closer and dropping his tone. Two could play at that game, he thought.
"You said we had boundaries," he replied tightly, eyes tracking his every movement.
Will smirked again. "Well now we definitely do." They were stood too closely for the supposed strangers they were. They were stood far too closely considering not only the company that awaited them, but their position straddling his doorway.
"Come in,
mylimasis," he finally murmured, conceding, and pressing a sweet, gentle kiss to the corner of Will's mouth, before stepping out of the way. Something akin to a blush rose in the profiler's cheeks at the gesture. Will slipped past him, ducking his head slightly in a bizarre and sudden bashfulness. The door clicked shut behind them and Hannibal's hand entwined in his as he led him toward the kitchen. It was startling domestic and while that made him feel slightly mushy inside, a greater part of him realised that the gesture was more likely an apology in disguise. An apology because Will wasn't going to like just
who Hannibal had brought to their dinner. Their hands fell apart as they stepped into the brightly lit, stainless steel kitchen that demonstrated not only Hannibal's wealth, but also his incredible proficiency with knives. And there, perched on a bar stool, dress hitched up to bare her leg almost up to the hip, was Alana-fucking-Bloom. It didn't take an Empath to see what she wanted: Hannibal, between her thighs, cock drilling her with harsh, even thrusts while she cried out her pleasure into his high-thread count sheets. She turned slightly in her seat, wine in her hand, lips parted just so and his monster's name on her lips before she saw him.
"Oh,
Will?" she said, tone confused, looking over at Hannibal, before glancing back. She took a moment to actually
look at him then and Will could see the way her pupils blew. She was probably imagining all three of them together and judging from the way she shifted her weight and rubbed her legs together, she was wet at the thought. "You look good," she commented before hesitating again. "I didn't know you were coming?""Apologies, Alana," Hannibal cut in smoothly, "I thought I'd mentioned that William would be joining us."Her eyebrow rose. "You, uh, know each other...?""We met in Jack's office," Will replied with a shrug. "But we will be working together Alana, especially if Jack gets his way and I'm profiled every five minutes," he snorted bitterly, letting his persona wrap around him like a blanket once more. No rest for him tonight then, it seemed. Alana seemed not to notice anything amiss.
"You do look good though," she said again.
"Well, you get told enough you need to make a good impression, eventually you try to," he snapped, poking at her guilt.
"Would you like to both take a seat in the dining room?" Hannibal cut in, hovering over Will's shoulder and knowing that without intervention, there would be bloodshed. Alana smiled, simpering, and followed his request, disappearing through a set of double doors. As soon as she was out of sight, Will turned to the European with a snarl, eyes wide, and shoved at him."Alana?!" he growled, crowding him against the island. "Of all the people? - her? Really? The one woman who thinks I want to fuck her? Who likes to pull at my thoughts and carve her name into my brain? Did you want to fuck me or did you want me to cut off your fucking dick?
For fuckssake Hannibal," he spat as he reached behind him and snatched Hannibal's wine glass from the counter-top, downing it in one swig, before snatching the bottle up too, pouring as he turned on his heel and stalked into the dining room. He felt Hannibal's eyes on him, then drop down to his ass, then back up again. Will wasn't sure whether he was too furious to be smug or not at the obvious attention his rear was getting.The woman was sat on the right hand side, perched primly on her chair. She smiled almost kindly at him and Will pushed down the hunting instinct that burned his blood and smiled back. Oh, he would be spending most of the evening fantasizing about killing the bitch. He took his seat opposite. Alana leaned forward as he settled, almost as though one conspirator might to another. "Hannibal's cooking is just fantastic, Will," she enthused, "you'll love it." There was a pause. "We eat together regularly," she confided and Will wasn't sure if that was an attempt to inspire jealousy or simply trying to make conversation. Hannibal entered soon afterwards, though, preventing Will from replying. He wheeled in their food on a pretentious silver dining cart that made Will snort into his wine. There was no reaction to suggest either had heard him but Will wouldn't rule out the mockery being taken out on his ass at a later date. He knew there were several things that he himself would take out on Hannibal's form.
Will didn't listen to what Hannibal was telling them they would be eating, no doubt because it
wasn't that, so he just smiled politely and embraced the teacher that Alana knew, asking quiet, non-intrusive questions about the woman's day and obliging her when she returned with questions as to his thoughts on the current case. It was tedious and, after half an hour, mind numbing. Part of him was growing in frustration at not being able to peel off the person suit he so often wore, but the burning heat of Hannibal's thigh pressed against his own kept his temper in check and eventually dulled it completely. By the time his handsome serial killer was wheeling dessert in on another ridiculous tray, something heavy and almost foggy had settled over him. It wasn't calm, it was almost a reluctant acceptance, and Will wasn't entirely sure what it was. It took him a moment to realise that he was actually tired. Bone tired. But it was something
more
than that, too. The thrill of the evening had melted away, slipping through his fingers. It wasn't the first time such a thing had happened, but it was rare enough to startle him. Maybe his work for Jack was having a bigger impact than he realised, if he was letting his anger slide off his bones even in the face of competition. He was almost embarrassed at not being able to follow through on his threats to his Doctor, but trying to sustain his anticipation for the meal and simply being with Hannibal in the face of Alana was draining him quicker than he thought possible and he was in danger of curling up on the table to rest. The time to spend with the man who had changed his whole world view was something he'd been craving all day - pushing him through Jack's snide remarks and threats - and he hadn't even managed to speak to him freely, let alone lean into his frame and just breathe. Fucking and being held were two different things, he knew, and he'd only sworn Hannibal off one of them.
"This truly is delicious, Hannibal," Alana praised again. Will
grunted his own approval. Hannibal raised an eyebrow, something like concern in his gaze. He knew he'd read the situation wrong - no doubt a retaliation for Will making him wait early that morning - but hadn't garnered how big a step back inviting Alana had been after the beautiful bouquet he'd created. "Don't you think so Will?" the woman continued, cheeks rosy with wine."Yeah," the man forced out, fatigue growing stronger with every passing moment. Alana smiled, unaware, and turned back to Hannibal.
"You are having a dinner party soon, aren't you?" she asked, before dropping her voice. "They are simply wonderful.""One cannot force inspiration, Alana," Hannibal chuckled, eyes quickly flickering back over to Will.
Ugh.
That was enough.He'd had enough.Fuck, he was tired.
"I think," he began, letting the growing misery and dreariness leak into his tone, "that I need to be getting home.""Ah, Will," Alana began, her voice betraying the eagerness at his suggestion, "what a shame." It was not a shame. She was more than happy he leave her and Hannibal alone, but judging by the narrowed glint in the European's eye, he was far from excited by this prospect. Will stood slowly and Hannibal rose with him. "I'll see you tomorrow?" Alana asked and the profiler only nodded in reply, instead turning on his heel and letting Hannibal walk him from the room.
"Are you -""M' fine, Han," Will murmured, "just tired.""Darling," Hannibal murmured, worried, reaching to smooth a thumb over his cheek, acting unusually hesitant. "Are you angry with me?""Was. Not now, jus' tired," he parroted before giving a ghost of a smile. "Part of me wanted to jus' fall 'sleep in front of your fire," he confessed, shrugging once before dragging his coat around himself. "It's been a long day," he added at the mournful expression on Hannibal's face."William -"
"You must think I'm full of hot air," Will huffed, cutting him off, "all those promises...""Keep them another time," Hannibal whispered. "Stay, Will, stay. We can -""Moment's gone," Will replied, shrugging once more. "Another time, maybe.""Will...""S'alright," he grimaced, turning away."Darling, please stay," Hannibal asked again, hand returning to his cheek. "Let me apologise for my truly terrible manners."Will chuckled, half a smile on his face.
"Dogs," he returned regretfully before he paused. "Don't fuck her," he asked, blush staining his cheeks.
His tumultuous eyes narrowed. "I was never going to,
mylimasis." A pause. "How could I even look at another when you are near?"Will smiled softly, before noticing a flicker in the corner of his eye. Maybe even in his drowsy state he could still make a move while doing what he had wanted to do since walking into the house earlier in the evening. He lifted his hand up to trace Hannibal's lips gently. "C'mre," he murmured. His monster moved willingly, bending to meet Will and accept the kiss. It was slow and sensual and distinctly lacking in the frenetic intensity of their usual couplings. It felt so incredibly domestic and Will relished both the moment and the quiet, sharp inhale of breath over their shoulders. Hannibal's hands dropped low, cupping his ass and pulling him flush, causing Will to laugh into their kiss and break away. The Lithuanian followed after him and Will laughed again. "I have to go," he said again. "M' tired," he paused, "and no doubt imma' have another body in the morning," he smiled gently, a loaded look in his eyes, "the Ripper, he rips in threes, ya know." Hannibal smiled and nodded, sensing the lifeline that Will was casting.
"He does," the European agreed, swooping back in to press a much more heated kiss to Will's lips, walking the blue eyed man back until he was pressed against the door desperately trying to keep up with the intensity of Hannibal's passion. Will broke the kiss again, huffing out little bubbling laughs.
"Stop it," he chuckled, "you're supposed to be hosting.""I am.""You're terrible," Will snorted, noticing Alana still lingering in the wings, watching closely, in his peripheral. "You're lucky you're such a good lay."
Hannibal grinned, hands dropping to beneath Will's thighs before hoisting him up. He squealed unattractively, instinctively wrapping his legs around the older man's hips and his arms around his neck, and couldn't help but smile, because this was what they used to do. Before a hunt, after a kill, before sex, after sex, in the morning, during the day, at night - it didn't matter. Hannibal had a thing for having Will in his arms and Will loved nothing more than peering down at his monster through his curls, meeting the man's eyes and bathing in the lusting adoration often found there. "Fuck I missed you," he breathed, unable to keep the words inside.
There was a loud creak of the floorboards and immediately Hannibal glanced over. Alana wasn't visible to him but from his perch atop of the Doctor's hips, Will could make out her silhouette. She could see them. She could see everything they were to each other and no doubt she could hear them too. Hear the desperate affection in their tones and the boiling, eager lust. Will turned back, dropping a quick kiss to Hannibal's lips before detaching
himself and stepping back. "Night Han.""Goodnight
mylimasis," he echoed, "will you call me when you are home safely?"Will laughed quietly. "There's nothin' out there that scares me Hannibal," he murmured, dropping another kiss on the man's lips, seemingly unable to help himself, before backing away and opening the front door.
A quiet chuckle, then: "until tomorrow, darling." Will glanced back and smiled, nodded once, before climbing into his car and backing down the driveway. The front door remained open as Hannibal watched him disappear out of sight and Will couldn't help but wonder just what Alana would do in light of her discovery.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
There was a frenzy to Will's dreams he hadn't been expecting. After the domesticity of their goodbye and the quiet, hushed murmurs of reassurance after he returned home, he was sure any dreams involving Hannibal would be calm, gentle and revolve around sharing space and thoughts the way most couples did.It was far from that.
Hannibal sat watching him, eyes pinned to his form, hand palming himself through his slacks. His pupils were blown, eclipsed black and violent, they made a shiver of want crawl down Will's spine. Occasionally he'd open his mouth and praise Will - talk in those velvet tones about how
good his boy was, and about how
eager and
desperate he was. For the first time, Will agreed, because he was desperate. He'd been sat on Hannibal's bed, naked and flushed, erection jutting skywards proudly, hole practically gaping as he forced another lube-slick finger inside himself, drunk on the anticipation of his monster finally giving in and fucking him. It felt like hours, the way dreams often did when you were waiting for something, and Will was burning up, flapping sporadically or digging his fingernails into the mattress, because Hannibal hadn't said he could touch. After an age, Hannibal stood and stalked forward, pulling his fingers free and replacing them with his own.
"Will," he'd crooned, digging through the copious slick that drenching himself in lube had left, "you're so
wet for me."He'd smiled slyly, then produced, as if from nowhere, a veined, purple monstrosity of a dildo. He slicked it with lube, hands gliding up and down the plastic, before lining it up and pushing it brutally inside. It filled him to capacity and stretched out his insides. He'd sobbed at the stretch because even on four fingers, his hole was still too tight to yield to the hard plastic - but Hannibal made it. He twisted in first left, then right, forcing it to carve open space inside the profiler. Then he began fucking him with it. Unrelenting, powerful, harsh thrusts that made him ache as his body tried to reject the blunt object brutalising him. Within moments Will was clawing at the sheets, crying out Hannibal's name and gasping every breath. He felt completely owned and
desperate
with the need to own Hannibal as thoroughly. It felt like hours of intensity, with Will slipping out of his headspace and into Hannibal's and back again with every ram of the purple dick against his flushed rim. The dirty, squelching sound had almost gone - dried up with the relentless friction - and in place was a sticky, dragging sound as the dildo was forced through the tacky residue that clung to his insides and had smeared on his skin, which made him feel both filthy and dazed. He was babbling mindlessly when Hannibal finally pulled free the fake, tossing it over his shoulder and inching forward, freeing himself as so to feed himself into Will's body. The radiating heat and the beautiful, intense pressure faded with a single, dirty roll of Hannibal's hips, when he was swallowed up to the root in a matter of seconds. Will gasped, clenching down hard and enjoying the feral growl that radiated through Hannibal's chest, moving down to where they were fused.Then he began to fuck.In his haste, the Lithuanian hadn't even rid himself of clothes, meaning the zip of his trousers dragged its way along Will's skin with every snap of his hips. The coupling was wild and claiming. Hannibal, proving his dominance and authority, while ensuring that every time he fucked into Will, his cock stabbed at the younger man's prostate, and Will drawing blood as he torn open his monster's back with his nails. It was never-ending. Again and again, Hannibal forced himself inside, and Will found himself clinging helplessly to the man, limp with the exhaustion of being made to wait for so long. His monster opened his mouth to say something, probably giving him permission to finally let go, when Will found himself pulled into reality and wide awake, the light from the window breaking his fantasy in an instant.
His soaked sheets told him that while he'd gained no pleasure from it, he'd definitely come at some point in the night.
"Fuck," he muttered. He was drenched, and had probably been steadily leaking for hours. He was only half-hard, but given the lukewarm slick of his cock, he'd come recently enough for that to be a surprising resilience of his refractory period.
A pair of low whines from somewhere in the living room told him his dogs were eager to be let out. Will huffed, threw back the covers, stripped off his boxers and hastily wiped himself down, before pulling on a pair of dirty sweatpants from his hamper and wandering through. His pack jumped up to meet him, some sniffing brazenly at his crotch, tilting their heads in curiosity. He batted them away and instead ushered them outside before flicking on the coffee maker, letting his mind drift. Thoughts of Hannibal came unbidden. Thoughts of them embracing domesticity together before pulling the night around them like a cloak and wading out into the darkness to cut and kill and
rip
until their monsters were sated. It was a tempting notion - as it had been ten years ago. To be so true to oneself with another was something Will knew he'd never truly have outside of the Lithuanian. But he could. And Hannibal wanted it.
He'd been told enough times by his colleagues, his teachers, his superiors and even, during class, his inferiors, that people like him - the violent, frightening serial murders who stalked through nightmares - could never love. He'd been told so often he'd begun to believe it. Maybe that wasn't true anymore. There was something so intrinsically dizzying about Hannibal that set his blood alight and his stomach fluttering in anticipation. Maybe it wasn't love, but it wasn't just lust. Will knew lust. He'd spent years praying on lust, learning it, understanding it. It could be a complicated mix of both. Maybe it wasn't love - maybe it was the closest people like him could get to love. He cared for Hannibal, he knew. He was overwhelmingly invested in him. He wanted to consume and absorb every second of his time, his focus, his affections. He didn't want the man sleeping with or entertaining others. He wanted to watch as he killed, cooked, read, composed, drew - he wanted to know every inch of the man, and possess all of it too. If that wasn't love then it was something more powerful. A dangerous notion, perhaps, but something frighteningly unhinging.
He was so lost in thought, he didn't hear either the crunch of car tires on the gravel, nor the quiet knock on the door and not even the soft footfall on his floor. He did however react to the half breath on the back of his neck and, without thinking, spun round, the nearest knife he had, arching down swiftly to the intruder. Hannibal's eyes widened and he barely managed to dive out of the way. Will gasped, pulling back and tossing the knife into the sink behind him. "Shit,
sorry," he exclaimed, hands coming to roughly manipulate Hannibal's face to ensure he'd not hurt the man.
"I think it's I who should apologise," Hannibal replied, half a smile on his face, allowing the assessment, "I did knock, and call your name, but I should have been more careful not to startle you.""Yeah, sorry," Will blushed, now embarrassed, "I was miles away." There was a pause. "I didn't expect to see you this morning.""Clearly," came the response before the European chuckled at Will's discomfort. "I didn't manage to hunt last night," he began, "so I thought I might come to see you, apologise in person.""No need to apologise," Will snorted, finally giving into his desires and folding himself into the chest of the man. Immediately Hannibal's arms wrapped around him, tight and possessive, and Will hummed contentedly, enjoying the closeness.
"Are you better this morning...?" Hannibal eventually murmured, voice caressing his ear.
"Sleepy, but not tired," Will mumbled through the red jumper his Lithuanian had chosen to wear that morning. In fact it was perhaps the most casual that Will had seen Hannibal dress since their reunion. A deep breath from the older man before arms snaked down under his thighs and once more he was in the air, wrapped tightly around Hannibal's body like an octopus. A pleased rumbled sounded in his chest that Will echoed immediately, pressing a thankful kiss to the underside of his monster's jaw. They moved through into the living room, finding a seat in the soft armchair occupying most of the space. Will found himself curling up to fit in Hannibal's lap, breaths coming in soft half-huffs as he settled. A hand had slipped beneath his shirt and was tracing patterns on his skin mindlessly.
"Alana had some questions after you left," Hannibal rumbled, tone particularly neutral. "About the nature of our relationship.""Mmm.""She saw us part," the Doctor continued.
"Mmm.""Saw our kiss." The hand had stilled. "It was quite a difficult situation for me."Will glanced up from beneath his curls. "I wanted to kiss you, so I did," he began, "and when I saw her, I wanted to make sure she knew you were mine. I didn't want you sleeping with her.""I told you I would never -""She didn't know that," Will muttered darkly. "It wasn't a move for the sake of a move, Han. I didn't kiss you because I saw her. I wanted to kiss you all night. I just satisfied two urges with one action."There was silence for a moment. "You staked your claim on me," Hannibal said softly.
"...Did you not want me too?" Fear and uncertainly rose sharply in Will then, his muscles going tense. The hand on his back began moving again.
"Darling, of course I did," he whispered, "we both know where this is going." Another pause. "Jack arrests the Ripper so there's no doubtful thoughts about us, and I keep you." Something warm swelled in Will at the man's casual words and a blush spread over his cheeks. "And then I believe the promise was that I can parade you around like the best in show," he chuckled, grip tightening again, "I look forward to the day."Will laughed brightly. "You're just looking forward to getting your dick back in my ass," he grinned, snorting at the pupils in Hannibal's eyes blew at the words.
"That too."They laughed together for a moment before lapsing into silence. Will broke it first. "Was she upset - Alana I mean - when she saw us? She wanted you so desperately, you know.""Shocked, more so. She asked what was going on and how long we'd known each other. I told her we were lovers many years ago, parted in an unfortunate set of circumstances that it was not her business to know. I told her we were delighted to see each other again and that we both agreed that to not pick up where we left off and attempt to forge a permanent future together was sacrilegious. I said that we were going to tell her about our coupling so we might have an ally when informing Jack when we felt the time was appropriate, but you were unsure when faced with the situation. It was that uncertainty and your tiredness that led you to leave early."There was a long, heavy silence, before Will smiled. "Your silver tongue is a work of art," he murmured, nudging at his monster's head to gain access to his lips, where he dropped a sweet, but lingering, kiss. He pulled away, smiling softly, happy to see his expression was mirrored on Hannibal's face.
The hand at his back dropped to rub soothing circles at his hip and it only took a few moments before the older man's eyes narrowed. His thumb dipped inside Will's waistband, meeting the soft skin and tracing downwards an inch or two. He sighed heavily. "Must you test me so?" he asked, tone almost petulant.
Will chuckled. "Didn't mean to," he confessed, "but I had a dream about us and opening the door to my house dressed in my night-clothes after that wouldn't have been civilised."
"A good dream then," Hannibal muttered, half smug, half enraptured as he revealed yet more skin. His fingers traced southwards, slowly, as if waiting for Will to pull away, but the curly haired man didn't move.
"Oh yeah," he replied, resting his head on Hannibal's shoulder, but keeping his body arched far enough away to let his monster explore. "Tell me who you've picked to take the fall for the Ripper," he said as cock began to stir slightly at the hand inching closer.
It took Hannibal a moment to gather himself in reply. "There's a man, a Doctor, by the name of Frederick Chilton," he began, stopping and finally cupping his hand around Will's growing interest. "He's a failed medical student, incredibly arrogant and has, on many occasions, used unethical psychological practices on his patients." He wrapped his fingers around Will and gave a long, slow stroke. The man groaned at the sensation.
"And..." he muttered, arching into the loose fist that his Doctor had created.
"And he's currently the Director at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane," he continued, building up a slow, torturous pace as Will shifted in his lap and began to roll his hips. "He's been there for a few years and thinks himself untouchable. He likes to boast about his achievements. He is quite a rude individual." He dragged his thumb over Will's slit and he groaned loudly, jerking forward as though electrocuted."How...?" Will gasped, eyes fluttering shut as he threw his head back and picked up the pace, rolling his hips fasted and faster, grinding himself against Hannibal.
"A patient named Abel Gideon believes himself the Ripper," Hannibal muttered, voice distracted and low, "but only because Doctor Chilton wants him to believe it.""A fraud," Will breathed, "he wants to own you, he wants to
have you." He moaned again. "But you'll make them see -""Jack will see a man trying to cover his tracks," Hannibal finished for him, tightening his grip. "I've got evidence to plant, documents, trophies. It will be just convincing enough."
"He'll never get you... it's profanity to even th-think he could c-c-catch you," he choked out, rutting quickening now. He could feel Hannibal's hardening bulge underneath him, getting larger and firmer with every movement. Will was getting close. "He fits the profile...oh, fuck... and he'll see,
ah, what messing with the R-Ripper does.
Oh, Hannibal. H-How will you kill A-Abel? He thinks he's...
Hannibal.""Darling," Hannibal growled, all composure gone, "you're so beautiful.
Ah,
gražuolė, my darling, my
mylimasis. I'll let you kill him,
mylimasis," he whispered, "so you can exact your revenge on him. I'll watch, I'll watch you, mylimasis,
as you work. My Will, my love.""Hannibal," Will breathed, low and throaty and desperate. Images of his dream, mixed with images of he and Hannibal hunting together swam beneath his eyelids, blurring until they were rutting like animals in the blood of their kills. The European tightened his grip
just so and twisted his hand, and Will was lost. Arching harshly, he thrust forward one final time, before jerking out his release. The blood roared in his ears and a pounding sensation struck up in his temple. His fingers dug in harshly, making him cling to Hannibal while he shook. Mouth agape, neck bared and eyes shut, he had no doubt his monster was enjoying the show.
It took a few moments to centre himself, but Hannibal's teeth in the side of his neck as he rutted forward and came in his trousers definitely helped bring him down from his high. His eyes opened in surprise and he watched as Hannibal snarled and growled as he jerked, the hand still wet with Will's come stripping his cock so to milk himself for all he could. He sucked a violent, purple bruise over the bite before pulling his hand free. Will immediately moved, licking a broad stripe across his palm and taking as much of their combined essence as he could. He sucked each finger clean and only when he was satisfied did he meet Hannibal's eyes once again. "Good plan," he offered languidly, glancing down at their matching wet patches staining their crotches.
"Better than the dream?" Hannibal croaked after a few moments.
Will smiled gently, thumb coming up to trace the European's bottom lip. "Not quite. Although, to be fair, there's very little better in this world than having you defile me first with a dildo, and then with your glorious cock, after sitting and watching me finger myself open for you," he grinned, enjoying the lust flair up in his monster's eyes.
"I thought you weren't allowing this," Hannibal murmured, squeezing Will through his damp sweatpants. The man hissed, too sensitive.
"Nuh-uh," he shook his head, "I said you'd only get to fuck me, to bend me over the nearest surface, when you'd finished courting me and sowing up all loose ends with the Ripper," he explained. "So it all comes down to how long can you cope with the occasional hand-job. How long can you sustain yourself before you need more? How long before I get tired of waiting and offer my ass up to someone else for them to fuck sloppy...?"There was a spine-tingling roar as Hannibal pitched forward, standing too fast and stalking over to Will's bed where the sheets were still in disarray. He was tossed down and immediately the Ripper launched himself at the profiler quicker than Will thought possible and
loomed over him. It seemed as though Hannibal were not in control of his own limbs.
"How many others have you offered this ass too, little one?"Will smirked. "Jack. First time, they were making the decision to allow my participation with cases," he began, spreading his legs wide, amused when Hannibal seemed to make himself bigger to occupy the new space, "I made sure he picked me," he licked his lips in delight at the sheer fury painting Hannibal's features. "We went to a bar, just to talk, and slowly, after a couple of drinks, he couldn't help himself. He put his hand on my thigh and after an hour it was practically on my cock. He kept inching closer and closer. He talked nothing but shop, but he was so hard. I could see it, bulging out his suit trousers. God, he was hard. So I said I needed to hit the head. I let him follow me. I played naive when he asked, when he told me that he wanted. Told him I was virginal down there.
Fuck,
that made his harder. He got behind me, his hands on my hips, and told me to put my hands on the sink. It took him twenty minutes to finger me open - he had no idea what he was doing - but then he lined up and just fucked
his way in. He made me watch him. Made me look in the mirror as he rutted against my ass. Fuck he was so big and he went and went and
went. I was dripping sweat, my shirt was drenched and my nipples, he twisted them, teased them, flicked them, called them my pretty little titties. After he nutted in my ass he was hooked. He'd come to see me for case updates just so he could come in my hole. He plugged me up once, when I was bursting with him. I was swollen, stomach bloated with all the come he'd pumped up my ass, and he pulled out a plug so I would have to walk around knowing what a little come-slut I was," he paused for affect, watching the man still hovering over him fight the urge to erase whatever claim he thought Jack had staked on him. Will found it incredibly amusing that his monster thought any word of what he'd just said was true. Like he'd ever let Jack -
Jack
- anywhere near his ass? His ass was Hannibal's, and only Hannibal's, so he was barely stopping himself from giggling as he lied about all the things he'd fantasised about doing with his monster. "Then there was Zeller," he continued, intrigued to see just how far he could push the boat out. "He's a kinky fucker," Will began, biting his lip, "and he liked me loose and open - desperate for him. He thought about tying me down, letting his old college pals ream my ass out, forcing me to take one after the other," Hannibal was snarling now, lips pealed back from his teeth in his anger and disgust, "but he liked the thought of it being just him. He bought a fucking machine, eventually, after a few shitty attempts to replicate my being fucked loose for him. Strapped me down and off it went. First time I managed forty minutes, but by the ninth, I was there for four and a half hours, just taking it over and over. I was out of my mind, then, and practically incoherent when he fucked me." He paused again, barely hiding a smile. "I had a few Johns too, but the best was probably Alana, with a strap on," he said, holding onto a straight face. Hannibal blinked in surprise before confusion and then realisation tore across his features. Will couldn't help but laugh then, snorting loudly and openly as a blush began desperately to begin spreading from his neck to his face.
"Really?" he asked, voice almost regal and almost condescending. Will didn't care, though, instead laughing louder.
"I can't-can't believe...you were jealous...of Jack..." he wheezed, face blotchy as he tried to force out words through the laughter.
Hannibal didn't speak, instead only dropped himself down until he was lay on Will, keeping most of his weight off by propping himself up on his elbows. He was half-hard, Will noted, and he couldn't help giggle at that either because that,
at his age
was another incredible reason why he'd be keeping this man. "Alright," he eventually said, accent curling around the words, "enough.""You...thought...I'd let...Jack -
Jack
- f-fuck me...?" he snorted, hiccuping now."There is barely a person alive who wouldn't fuck this ass if you let them," Hannibal said with a hefty smack to Will's left butt cheek. Humour dimmed for a moment as lust crept back into the profiler's gaze. "You are an incredibly beautiful person, William," Hannibal continued, punctuating with yet another smack. "And a rather sinful little tease."
Smack. "Who probably shouldn't tell lies about what a little
slut
they are."
Smack.
"But instead let their lover know that they're such a good boy."
Smack. "Because I
am
the only one to ever have this ass, to have ever fucked inside and left my mark; to have been swallowed so greedily."
Smack. "Aren't I?"
Smack. Smack.
"Yes," Will choked out, part thrilled and part amazed at how Hannibal could turn a situation where he was at a disadvantage into one where he was the only one with power."Oh there's my
good boy," Hannibal snarled into Will's sweat soaked hair, "you've been so good, waiting for me to fill you up just right." His hand went to Will's waistband and immediately Will caught his wrist.
"Ass
after," he insisted. The Doctor smirked, but relented, instead choosing to inhale deeply and sit back, content to simply study his boy."You're a masterpiece, my darling," he murmured, palming himself through his still damp clothes, before smiling viciously. "You won't be able to walk when Jack finally arrests Chilton," he promised.
"I doubt I'll be able to walk now," Will muttered, eyes fixed on the man. "Come on, we need to clean up.""Wait," Hannibal demanded, pushing down his trousers and pulling himself free. He immediately began twisting and tugging at his cock, groaning at what was clearly still sensitive from his first orgasm. After a couple of minutes, he jerked his chin
just so and Will nodded, pulling free his t-shirt before sitting up slightly. The European came on the blue-eyed man's chest with a loud groan, one that stuttered when the younger man rubbed the come into his skin with a dazed smile. Eventually his panting slowed and he hunched in on himself. "Okay,
now we must shower.""Dibs on first one," Will smiled, standing to his feet. "Feed the dogs and throw the sheets in the laundry while I'm in there?" he asked, knowing full well that Hannibal would. The man nodded and was rewarded with a deep, lingering kiss that was more filth than anything else. Will grinned against his lips once again before turning on his heel and practically skipping to the bathroom. His smile widened even further when he heard a creak, some rustling and then:"Oh. It really
was
a good dream."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Alana and Jack gave them three days before pouncing. In fairness to them, Hannibal had just dropped the second Ripper body and begun his methodical implication of Dr Frederick Chilton, so they had little choice but to bring in their expert to view the scene. It was instantly clear, however, that Alana had told not only Jack, but the others as well, that he and Hannibal were old flames, given the surprised (Katz), judgemental (Zeller) and curious (Price) looks that were directed at him as he crossed the empty car park.
"Will," Jack greeted, eyes narrowing when he spotted the glaringly bold hickey that Hannibal had bitten, and then sucked, into his skin. Luckily the Guru couldn't see the others, ones that littered his chest, spanning his ribs, surrounding his nipples and following the line of his hipbones with a dedication that was frankly unfathomable. He'd been generous, Will thought, in letting Hannibal reacquaint himself with his body; hands and teeth and lips covering every inch except the few he desperately craved. It was becoming quickly apparent that his monster was not going to remain satisfied with taking Will apart with his hands, not when the potential to bury himself
inside
was so close. The silver-tongued European had almost managed to take Will into his mouth - he'd been sleepy and blissed out after several toe curling hand-jobs from the man and hadn't been paying attention to Hannibal's progression south. Breath, then a long, wet lick, and Will found it in him to kick him away. The serial mutilator snarled and bit deep into the meat of his inner thigh, unimpressed at either the dismissal or his own lack of stealth, Will wasn't sure, but with his lover looking like an angry cat, Will just threw his head back and laughed.Incredibly, between being treated as a chew toy for the cannibal to mark up and a model for his less than PG sketches, Will had spent most of his time curled up in Hannibal's lap, indulging in him. Hands wrapped tight around his waist and head burrowed in the crook of his neck,
Will found himself drifting peacefully, contented in the arms of a man who had defined his ascension into a darkness far blacker than anything he could have ever known. It was becoming more and more obvious the longer he spent with the man that he was more than just enthralled, he was
smitten. His craving for domesticity was overwhelming, and with Hannibal's constant talk of
after, and
keeping him, and
in the end, he was more and more assured that this was for the long haul. His games, while fun, were not the basis for Hannibal's interest in him, it seemed, and that was almost refreshing. Especially when bundled in the man's arms, being carried from room to room because: "Fuck you Han, I'm comfortable, just carry me," was apparently neither rude, nor an illegitimate excuse.Maybe they were both
smitten.
"Jack," Will returned politely, keeping his tone neutral, but waiting for the first comment and just who it would come from. He turned to the woman stood primly by Jack's side and deliberately ignoring him. It seemed Hannibal had been incorrect in his assumption that she'd move on. Will had thought as much: after all, who would let someone like Hannibal
go without a fight, and that was without seeing the glorious darkness that swam in his veins and the visage of him head to toe in blood. No, Alana was prepared to fight, that was clear, but it was still annoying to be proven right in that manner, especially as she could pose a serious fucking problem. No one wanted a crazy, obsessive stalker ex, particularly one that was not only close to the FBI, but close enough to them that a sudden 'disappearance' or 'unfortunate murder' might point to them. Although, Will thought, give him a day and he wouldn't give two shits about being caught; not if he got to watch the bitch squeal as he cut out her pancreas, both kidneys and maybe even a chunk of her liver. He might even take her uterus too, especially because he
knew
she'd have had thoughts about giving his
baisūnas
children. She was the type to.
Bitch."Alana," he said instead, tipping his head in acknowledgement and forcing his face to contort into something that resembled a smile.
"Nice bruise there Graham," Katz said with a smirk, cutting over the tension as though she didn't know it was there.Will snorted, grateful for the attempt and amused at it too. "You should see the other guy," was out of his mouth before his brain even registered thinking it, and immediately everyone was on edge. He sighed, pushing up his glasses and imaging butchering them all in creative and exciting ways so as to calm himself down before he did something rash. "Look, do you want me to take a look or not?" He directed it at Jack, knowing full well just how desperate the man was.
"We
will
talk about this Will," Jack promised, jabbing a finger in his direction, "but-""I'm sorry," Will spluttered, unable to let
that
slide. "But why? Last time I checked, there were no regulations against having a social life, nor having a partner. Why should I have to discuss anything with anybody?"Jack blinked, surprised. "This is a different set of circumstances, it's -""How?" he demanded, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.
"Hannibal is your Doctor, Will," Alana cut in, voice brimming with rage, "it's hardly ethical.""He's
not
my Doctor Alana," Will returned, unable to keep the smug out of his tone. "Besides, Jack brought him in so we could have
conversations.""You're having more than that," Katz cut in snidely, sniggering just a little.
"You're endangering his job," Alana hissed, voice rising in both volume and pitch. "If you actually
cared
-"She was cut off when Will snarled, stepping forward in anger. "The fuck did you just say? -
if
I cared.""Now, come on -" Jack began, clearly overwhelmed but still attempting to pacify the situation - and failing rather dramatically.
"No," Alana barked, wrenching her hand free from where Jack had grabbed it, "you knew him years ago, before he was even a psychiatrist, Will," she started. "You don't know the Hannibal he is now, what he's been through or
anything
about his life here. He's
not
the Hannibal you knew. You may have known him years ago, but I guarantee that I have not only been around him for longer, but that I know him better than you do."That was it. He was going to murder her.
He was going to rip her fucking face off.
With. His. Hands.
He was practically shaking with rage. "Where's he from, Alana?" he spat, furious at having to justify himself to her.
"What's his full name? What about family? Where's his favourite place? Who's his favourite artist?"
How does he kill? How does he look when he fucks like a savage?
The questions were screaming in his head, but he was aware enough to keep hold of Hannibal's secrets, and his own, despite the blinding nature of his fury.The women hesitated just enough to enrage Will further. "He's from -" she began but once again was cut off.
"ENOUGH!" Jack bellowed, moving Alana to the side as though putting a foot more distance between her and Will might defuse the entire situation. "Enough!" A pause. "This is clearly a very delicate situation, with both parties clearly strong in the belief that they know Dr Lecter better, but might I remind both of you that it is the good Doctor who decides who he will date," he glanced at Will, "and who he will not," his eyes flickered to Alana, "and I know that may be upsetting, but -""Come
on Jack," Zeller cut in, "Lecter's probably screwing him so he can take a look inside his head. Don't half the community want to see inside there.""Hey -" Jack began, but he was cut off again."It's probably for a paper," Alana tacked on cruelly.
Oh. Now they were
both
going to die. Slowly. Painfully.
Because not only had they dragged his name through the mud, but she'd insinuated that Hannibal would do that. That Hannibal might drag Will into his bed just to play with his mind. The
baisūnas
was a lot of things: cruel and spiteful, even, but he'd never break someone he cared about further than they could be repaired. And Hannibal cared about Will. And Hannibal knew that if he did that? -
with Will's hatred of being analysed and pinned down like an interesting toy - he would break him beyond anything he could mend.He took a step forward, as did Alana, and something akin to disbelief rose in him. Did she really think she had a chance? Against him? He who had bewitched and leashed and killed with the Ripper? Who had tormented souls and torn them apart for his own amusement for more than a decade? The naivety was outstanding. And then he was moving towards her, mind made up and she, mirroring him, was clearly just as determined to rake her nails across his face. But then, as Jack wrenched her back, two strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him away. He turned to lash out, still swimming in bloodlust, only to find Hannibal as the culprit. His darling, stupid, gorgeous monster wearing a three piece suit and a smug, amused smirk, with something like awe lingering in his eyes."Care to tell me why you're about to pull out Dr Bloom's spine through her mouth?" he murmured against the shell of his ear.Will snorted, tension draining from him in an instant, because, yeah, smitten. "Please," he muttered, offering a roll of his eyes and trying not to let the smile threatening to spill onto his face get further than the corner of his lips, "I was clearly going to puncture her lungs and gouge out her eyes."Half a smile appeared on the man's features at Will's words and instead of replying, or even glancing the way of the technicians, Jack or Alana, he pressed a soft, reassuring kiss to Will's temple as though on instinct, hands relaxing as so to embrace rather than hold back.
"What happened, my darling?" he asked after a moment, left thumb rubbing soothing circles on the tiny strip of his stomach that had been bared by his outburst.
"She's more pissed than you thought she'd be," he murmured back, nuzzling into Hannibal's neck, so he could whisper the words into his skin, "said she knew you better and you were only fucking me so you could study me. I don't know the real you apparently," he added, dropping his own kiss to the soft skin beneath his lips.Hannibal tensed, eyes widening comically and he looked like the definition of the word astounded. Will couldn't help but bark out a soft laugh. "She told you -
you -
my darling, that she knew more about me?""Uh-huh," Will said, pressing another gentle kiss to the man's neck and feeling the uptick in his pulse.
"...And then dismissed our love as nothing more than an experiment?" he continued, rage seeping into his tone. He glanced up at Alana who had stopped fighting against Jack to stare at them both, directing a
fiery glare towards Will in an attempt to crack open his skull with sheer will power. Hannibal frowned, pulling back slightly to look down at the man still lingering in his arms. "She dismissed us?" Hannibal asked again and, when Will nodded in reply, he moved out of the way, extending his arm with a graceful flourish and said:
"You may proceed." Will couldn't help it, he laughed, spluttering at the older man's gesture."Oh can I?" he grinned, something light taking flight in his chest. "You want me to fight for us? Oh, I'll fight for us." he continued, shaking his head and hip checking the man with a snort. "Bitch," he muttered, still grinning as his heart swooped, before finally looking at Jack. "Are you going to show me this fucking body or are we going to carry on having a bitch fight over him?" he jerked his head. "If that's the case, I'm going home and you can all fight for his honour without me." He dropped his tone so only Hannibal could hear. "Not that you've got much fucking honour, you murderer."Hannibal snorted, then looked positively horrified at his own undignified actions, which made Will laugh again, turning to his monster with an adoration in his gaze. Sm-i-tten. Ugh, he was so
gone. The Lithuanian composed himself before moving over to Jack, Will beside him."Well that was certainly an unpleasant good morning, Agent Crawford," Hannibal said coldly, in way of greeting, not even glancing at Alana. "When I was asked for an opinion, I wasn't aware it was going to be one on my love life.""It wasn't -" Jack said at the same time as Bev shouted gleefully: "It totally was!"Will turned his laugh into a cough, but a slight, half curve of the older man's lips betrayed his amusement at Katz's enthusiasm for their coupling. "Body, Jack," Will prompted again, knowing that it was probably not best to push Hannibal's patience too far.A slight hesitation, then: "Right, body," he paused again, "this way."It took Will a moment to realise as he followed Jack and the still fuming Alana to the body, that it would be the first time he had visited Hannibal's crime scene
with
him. Before, they'd made the art together before disappearing to some shitty motel and fucking each other's brains out, barely stopping to drink and piss, let alone revisit the site of their masterpiece and watch the police fumble about with it like virgins at homecoming. Now, though, with his person suit draped over his shoulders like a pelt, his monster entwining their fingers as they walked, they were going to be able to enjoy Hannibal's vision in the light with the artist by his side. Will had a tough time willing his cock to behave then, although from the wide flair of the European's nostrils and the ghost of a smug smile that flitted across his face, he'd noticed Will's arousal.
Unlike before, this body hadn't been crafted indoors. Instead it stood tall and proud beneath the open sky where all the heavens could see it. And see it they should. When Will saw what his darling monster had made for him, he squeezed Hannibal's hand so tightly, he almost snapped his fingers.The first body had been a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Something timeless, traditional, but teeming with hidden, and blatant, meaning. It was Hannibal beginning again; starting simply to court the one he intended to keep for the foreseeable future. It was sweet and pretty but rather
innocuous: Will would have to be particularly bitchy to dislike it.
This?
This was something else.
The man was beautiful and, if Will was honest, someone whom he would have targeted in his younger days as a good fuck and a better kill. He had curly hair - ash blonde and rumpled - and was well toned. His eyes were closed and his expression almost euphoric: head thrown back, mouth slightly agape, lips painted red, his hands tied over his head to one of the branches of the tree where he'd been left. His shirt had been ripped opened and he was naked from the waist down, but there was nothing distasteful about it. His skin was smooth and unblemished, his cock limp against his thigh and his legs were spread enough to ensure that no one missed the symbolism behind his positioning and expression. His chest had been opened and everything had been emptied out of the cavity. Cut away in neat, neat lines, the only organ that had survived Hannibal's blade was the heart. Still attached and held firmly in place, it looked solitary, almost lonely, but also exceedingly beautiful, because unlike his first victim, Hannibal had left not a hint of blood. Not on the body, the tree the body leaned against, the grass beneath his feet, not even on the rope that encircled his heavily bruised wrists - the only blemish that Will could see on the young man's skin. It took barely a moment to realise what Hannibal had done. He'd recreated two of the key moments in their history: their first meeting, ending with Will pinned against a wall, naked from the waist down, lost in a pleasure he couldn't describe; and their first kill, where Hannibal had painstakingly showed him how to remove the organs without making a mess. He'd only left the heart because Will had been too eager to fuck him to let him finish. Although this felt like something much deeper and more intimate that a lack of time.
This felt like a declaration of love.
Will knew Jack's eyes were on him, demanding answers to questions that he, frankly, didn't want to share. This meaning should be only for him; for he and Hannibal. So before he took a step forward, dropped Hannibal's hand and pretended to let the pendulum swing; before he looked Jack in the eyes and lied with phrases like "unsure", "confusing imagery", "still courting perhaps" and "too jumbled", he pressed a quick, feather light kiss to Hannibal's fingers, smiled softly and said:"Me too, Han. Since
always."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Surprisingly, knowing that Hannibal was in love with him changed very little. Will himself had been contemplating the emotion since their reunion and finally have a confirmation written in the bloody script they both adored, was like a warm blanket: comforting and blissful but desperately familiar too. Hannibal had always loved him it seemed, but unlike before, they were now both ready to indulge in that love. After quietly slipping in comments and theories to Jack that might indicate Chilton:
"But look at those lines Jack, this guy's had medical training. He won't have been successful though, too eager to embrace death, but I guarantee this is his practice...",
he and Hannibal had left the crime scene, parting for their own homes and letting the FBI fumble around with their suggestions, curious as to how Jack would respond.
It was three days later, when the response came - where Jack first said, voice layered with uncertainty, the name Chilton -
that Will made his rather spontaneous decision.
He
may have been a little hasty, he'd admit. At first, the plug stuffed in his ass had been not just a good idea, but a great one: keeping a warm, heady feeling swimming in his stomach and preparing himself for Hannibal who was now rounding onto the finishing straight and
inching closer and closer to his goal with each day. It was a tease but also a reward for the man's latest kill, not to mention a promise of what was coming should he finally creep over the line and write an emphatic over
beneath the Ripper. Even after an hour of it nudging against his swollen prostate, Will was still enamoured with the sensation that smouldered in his core and made his loins burn. He was more than a little determined to keep it in until he saw his monster, too, but had vastly underestimated the length of his day and the strength of his composure. After opening himself up with slow, probing fingers and pushing the plug through the mountains of slick that coated his thighs, hole and rim, he let himself rut into the bed until shuddering out a long, satisfying orgasm. But the press on his insides made him twitch and after the drive that saw every small pothole ram the plastic into his prostate, he was leaking again. Luckily, he'd prepared, and his only saviour became the metal cage he'd stuck in his bag before leaving the house. A quick trip to the bathroom, an even quicker wank, and he was locking himself away so he could teach without getting harder than steel and earning an even
worse
reputation. By the end of his two classes though, he was desperate again, not least because while the cock cage stopped him from swelling, it didn't stop him from leaking. By his second trip to the bathroom, his underwear was soaked through with pre and not even wiping himself down was helping. Luckily though the wet patch hadn't shown on his trousers.
He was then pulled aside by Jack, for over an
hour
to brainstorm ideas about the Ripper and the eleven new suspects (Chilton included) that Will's suggestions had uncovered. Between that, the absence of his monster, the presence of Alana and the now near
frenzy
pushing him to fuck until he couldn't move, he was more than just a little frustrated - and more than ready to tap out, even with the positive developments occuring around him.
What had started as a means to tease himself, and his monster, had quickly descended into borderline mania, because he felt like doing anything, as long as the European would pin him to the nearest surface and drill him hard.
Then Hannibal arrived.
Hannibal noticed, of course, within moments of entering the room. He had greeted Will with a soft kiss to his cheek, much to the anger of the still jealous Alana, before his pupils blew wide. He could no doubt smell the tang of arousal and the obvious mixture of lube, metal and silicone that lingered on Will's skin. And if that escaped him, the moment he slowly pressed a thigh against Will's hole when all attention in the room was elsewhere, then the tensing and the half cough-grunt didn't. So his monster began to subtly navigate the room to stand behind Will, taking whisper thin windows of opportunity to press the full length of his body against the profiler's own, enjoying the choked off moans when the plug shifted and his cock tried desperately to get hard. His hands would migrate south, kneading his cheeks and, if he could get away with it, grind the heel of his hand down to force the plug in deeper. Yet while Hannibal was no doubt enjoying himself, by the time the oblivious Jack and the petty jealous Alana bid them good evening, the Lithuanian was barely holding onto his composure. A single glance behind the coat that Hannibal was holding in front of him showed just how far gone he was.
The fact he let Will drive himself home too spoke of the lack of control he had over himself, and how something no doubt indecent would happen were they to share the space.
It didn't mean, however, that
nothing
indecent happened on the journey. Will, eyes firmly fixed on the road, had begun to ride the plug, groaning aloud when it jostled about inside him. He was grinding down harshly, mewling down the phone to Hannibal who had insisted on an open line between the two of them. Neither had spoken, but Will knew it was probably because words were unimportant. He whined and gasped and choked off moans and begged quietly to no-one and everyone with half babbled words to please, please
let him come. His right hand was squeezing tight around his still caged cock, the material of his trousers finally growing damp and musky, clinging wetly to his skin.
Hannibal, if the way he tailgated Will the entire drive, was just as desperate. Something which was proven when the man launched himself from the Bentley when they finally arrived and tackled Will to the porch floor, eyes wild and grinning at the way
he curly-haired man arched up into him.
"You are a malicious little cock tease, darling one," he snarled, pinning him down and enjoying the way Will's body fit perfectly beneath him. The blue-eyed boy's breath was ragged and desperate - clearly curious as to just
what
Hannibal was going to do, especially with regards to their outstanding agreement - one that even in his hysteria, he hadn't forgotten. "Little one, little one," he crooned, hand slipping into the front of Will's trousers and cupping the stunted arousal confined there. "Let me," he murmured against the shell of his ear. "Let me, darling." He paused, letting his voice grow soft and crooning. "It'll just be the tip, I promise. We'll take this off and let you grow big. Let you come on me.
Let you come as I just nudge inside you.""You couldn't help yourself," Will groaned, biting his lip and arching his neck while amusement danced in his eyes. Hasty decision and hellish towards the end, maybe, but now it was all
worth it, because
look
at the
state
of his monster. He was wanton and begging and beside himself with lust.
"Yes," Hannibal hissed, nipping at Will's ear and rutting hard against him, jolting the plug and making the younger man whine loudly. "I could. I'd stop, little one, I would.""Liar!""Tease," the killer snarled back, rutting against him again, and again, and again, building up a rhythm that was making Will mewl. "Let me Will, my love, my
mylimasis.
Only the tip.
It doesn't count if it's only the tip.""Oh
baisūnas," he laughed, "I am a tease. But you c-can't say that good things don't come to those who w-wait," he moaned with every mocking thrust. "I'll let you watch me, baisūnas,
if you w-want, but
ah, you have to wait for the rest."
A set of teeth deep in Will's neck and a long snarl expressed Hannibal's displeasure at being denied, but when he dragged them both up, stormed into the house and threw Will down on the bed, the profiler knew his monster had taken his deal. Especially with the way he stripped them and tossed their clothes on the ground.
His eyes lingered on the cage, body softening just a touch as his cheek came down to nuzzle at the flushed, mottled flesh slowly leaking despite the metal holding it. "Are you going to milk yourself for me, little one? Until your little balls are empty? Until you're trembling and arching and nothing's coming out of you? Until you're begging
for me, for my cock, and I slip just inside you," he began, nipping at his thighs, ignoring as Will shook his head. "I want you to keep the cage on Will," he added, voice deep and gravelly. "If I have to wait, then you should too."Will laughed breathily. "Does-doesn't work like t-that Hannibal," he squeaked, fingers knotting themselves into the European's hair and tugging sharply. The man growled against Will's skin.
"But little one," the man tried again, shifting tactic as he lathered kisses across his hips. "You always say you come hardest when writhing on my cock," he murmured, beginning to rut against the bed. "Don't you want to be extra sensitive for when you swallow me down to the root?""Don't you want to be extra s-s-sensative when you breach me for the f-first time in...ah...ten years?" he smirked back, grinding down on the plug again. "Are you going to cage yourself f-for me Han? Lock up your cock until they-they all fall in your trap?"A full set of teeth bit so hard into his hip that he knew instantly he was bleeding. Will groaned, hooked his other leg over Hannibal's shoulder and arched up. His hands began to scramble at the cage, trying desperately to free himself and even with no help from his monster, and his shaking hands, he managed to unlock the cage in record time. The blood filled his cock so quickly, his head pounded.
"Take the plug out Han," Will ordered, putting a little authority into his voice. "You're going to rim me. Then when I'm close, you're going to stand in the corner and watch me come," he added, jerking skywards as his monster - taking anything Will would give - dropped his fingers south and began to play with the plug, nudging just enough to drive Will to distraction. "Now," he hissed, "or I'll send you away."Hannibal got his fingers around the base and began to pull; inching the plastic out slowly and letting it bump into every ridge inside him. A thick, dirty
pop
later and the plug was dropped unceremoniously onto the bed beside them. Then the prim and proper Doctor Lecter spread Will's cheeks and dived in, eating him out as though he were a starving man at a feast. He lapped, sucked, bit at Will's hole, tongue lathering the already slick site with enough spit that he could fuck on in without need for any more lube.
"Love your fucking tongue," Will gasped, tugging at Hannibal's hear and locking his legs around the doctor's shoulders. "Should be fucking illegal, that s-silver tongue,
fuck Han, god, you're so fucking good." He groaned. "If only they could see you - all y-your stupid pretentious f-fucking f-friends,
oh shit - eating me o-out. So good Han, forgot how good,
ugh." Another pause. "Fuck Han, I'm close,
god I'm close. Back up," he ordered, shoving the man away when he didn't immediately comply and reach for the plug beside him. Without taking his gaze from Hannibal, crouched between his legs at the end of the bed, hair askew and eyes more animal than man, Will pushed the plug back inside, grinding down. "Fuck," he swore, eyes rolling back. "God I want your cock so bad, Han. So bad. Wan'it," he slurred, jerking the plug in and out faster and faster. "It's not thick enough, not hot e-enough, not we-wet enough," he continued. He opened his eyes. "Han touch me,
touch me." The doctor lunged forward, wrapped his hand around Will and one stroke later, the profiler was jerking around the hard plastic in his ass, mouth agape and coming in long, thick ropes than splattered the both of them. He blinked his eyes open and grinned leisurely before rolling onto his stomach. "Wanna come on my ass, Han?" he asked, getting his knees up underneath him and spreading his legs wide. "I'll even let you come on my hole, 'cos you've been so good," he murmured. "Then you can push your come inside with my plug, if you want," he continued, arching his back so his chest was flat on the covers.
Hannibal needed no further invitation. Easing the plug out once more, he jerked himself quickly, shaking and groaning in the effort, hips pistoning forward until he shuddered and came on Will's cheeks and hole with a growl. He watched it slide down the profiler's skin before finally mopping up as much as he could with the end of the plug and pushing the toy back inside until it settled comfortably again in Will's guts. Will smiled softly, turning onto his back and beckoning Hannibal forward, kissing his filthily. "You're all plugged up inside me now," he murmured against the killer's lips. "But I'm still so open for you," he added, "just waiting. I don't like waiting Han.""You won't be waiting long, love," he snarled. "And neither will I. And I'm going to tie you down and
ruin
your hole, my little cock tease."Will smirked. "Promises, promises, monster."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
In the end, Hannibal was right. He wasn't waiting that long.
It was barely a week later. A week filled with Jack chasing down leads and slowly but surely crossing off all of the names on the list, before Chilton became the number one suspect. The profile matched and even Alana, still stewing in whatever notion she had at being the
right one for Hannibal
begrudgingly agreed when Will, shooting his shot for an Oscar, breathed out a long, half nervous breath and said: "I think this is him, Jack. I think he's our guy."The visit Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, however, was not officially to question Chilton. In a rather inspiring move by Jack, he'd opted instead to visit Gideon, the inmate whom Hannibal mentioned that Chilton had been psychically driving under the guise of an interview about the Ripper. Apparently, Jack had said on the drive over, Chilton had been particularly eager to greet them, give them a tour of facility should they desire it, and to assist in the investigation in any way he could. For Jack, it was a series of red flags, but for Will it was inordinately funny that Hannibal had picked the world's biggest suck up to take credit for his masterpieces.His monster must really
want to fuck him. Will found himself exceedingly flattered - a feeling that only grew when he finally
saw the man.
Frederick Chilton was nothing like Hannibal.
Hannibal made Will want to drop to his knees and
yield. To let the man take him apart over and over and carve out a place inside him. He made Will desperate and reckless, horny and emotional, childish and impish - a cascading array of emotions that never failed to either overwhelm or blindside him. Hannibal was cut from marble and death, a demon bound by flesh that inspired envy and gluttony. He was sin and carnage and wrath and lust, clawing at the underbelly of humanity with a never-ending
hunger.
Chilton was desperately underwhelming in comparison.
He was average to look at and distinctly lacking in creativity. He was the kind of person who would boast without fully understanding what he was boasting about. He greeted them on the steps of the Hospital with a greasy smile that immediately made Will feel unclean. He didn't even feel like cutting the expression off the man's face."Welcome," he smiled, eyes immediately tracking to Will before returning to Jack. "Agent Crawford, Dr Bloom, and, of course, the famous Will Graham," he smiled again, "you're quite the conversation in psychiatric circles Mister Graham," he continued offering his hand. A deliberate stare from Jack had him unwillingly accepting it and from the sudden flare of his pupils, Will knew instantly that Hannibal's patsy shared at least one thing with the Ripper.
He wanted Will.
It wasn't clear to Jack or Alana, they both taking up positions either side of Chilton as he escorted them through the hospital, peppering his answers to Jack's barely innocuous questions with anecdotes that portrayed him in incredibly flattering lights both academically and socially. But it did become slightly more obvious to Jack, at least, when he and Alana were escorted one way towards Gideon's cell, and Will was left alone with Chilton. It had always been the plan, of course. Will knew he didn't even have to get Chilton to say anything damning because he'd tell Jack the man was the Ripper regardless, and well Jack believed that only his best profiler could get the Ripper to trip up. But when the gates swung closed, separating the group, Will knew that Jack could see the
want
in Chilton's eyes. He hesitated only for a second before pinning a weighted look to Will and turning on his heel and following Alana down the hallway.
Then Will was being led back to Chilton's office, so they could 'watch' the interview from there.
"You've quite the mind, Mister Graham," Chilton began when the door swung closed behind them and a silence fell. "An outstanding view of the world," he added, moving over towards a liquor cabinet. "Wine?" he asked.
"I'm working Dr Chilton," Will replied, tone a touch cold.
"Of course," the man simpered, offering a one armed shrug, "but I won't tattle if you don't," he grinned, pouring two glasses and handing one immediately to Will before busying himself with the screen that showed the cells. "What do you think of our resident celebrity?" he asked after a few moments, gaze settling on Will's exposed collarbone before tracking the exposed flesh down as much as he could.
"I'm not sure yet," Will replied honestly, taking a sip of the wine, because why the fuck not, and watching as Chilton pinned his eyes to his throat as he swallowed.
"Really?" he asked, voice dipping just enough to betray his attraction. "The great Will Graham hasn't formed an opinion?""Bit soon," came the reply before Will set the now half empty glass down and moved to stand in front of the window.
Unsurprisingly, Chilton followed him.
The heat radiating from the man's body was stifling, not least because it was unwelcome, but also unfamiliar. Hannibal ran hot but never
that
hot. It was like being trapped next to a furnace and it made Will instantly want to run. "Personally I think opinions are formed almost instantly. You no doubt have an idea about Gideon, the same way you have an opinion about me," he paused. "The same way I have an opinion about
you."The tinny voices of Alana and Jack were beginning to bleed into the room and Will instantly found himself at a cross-roads. He could rebuke the man before him, instantly set him straight about his relationship with Hannibal, or he could lean into the flirtation just enough to make Jack pick the painfully obvious conclusion: the individual the Ripper had been courting was
Will.
But instead of Hannibal being the culprit, Chilton was. Jack would see Chilton desperately fumbling with Will's affections, following breadcrumbs Will could sow like an obedient child.
It would see the man before him take the fall quicker, of course, and wasn't that the aim of it all? Hannibal, however, wouldn't be happy with the development.
Although,
he thought,
an unhappy Hannibal usually meant rougher sex, and he'd rarely say no to that.Decision made, he turned towards the Doctor slightly. "Opinion about me, Dr Chilton?" he asked, eyebrows raised and gaze daring. "A bit early for that too, isn't it?"A touch of heat bled into the man's eyes. "Hardly," he murmured, taking another step closer. "I confess myself forming an opinion about you Mister Graham when you first appeared in Ms Lounds' Tattler all those months ago.""Ah," Will grinned, "then it's not good. Freddie has a way with poisonous words.""Not at all," Chilton insisted, eyes now dropping to Will's lips, almost as though he couldn't help himself. In truth, he probably couldn't. Will was pretty - and he knew it - and it had probably been quite a while since a man like Will had shown interest in a man like Frederick. "I can assure you my opinion is most certainly...positive."Direct. Tactlessly direct.
Ugh.
Will forced a smile. "Well it's nice to hear that Lounds hasn't driven
everyone
away," he said, before jerking his chin over to the screen and leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper. "We should probably be listening to the interview, wouldn't you say Dr Chilton."The man blushed and agreed, eyes never quite ridding themselves of the hungry look, even long after the moment had gone. And this time, both Jack and Alana noticed... although both had incredibly contrasting reactions.
"I thought you were in love with Hannibal," Alana snarled when they were once more in the parking lot with Chilton still offering a wave from the steps of the hospital.
"I am," Will replied, flashing Chilton a false smile before turning to Jack.
"You said the Ripper was courting," he began slowly before letting concern bleed into his expression. "Chilton seemed incredibly interested in you."Will took a steadying breath and made his face twist into layers of fear and concern and harrowed desperation. "It's him," he breathed, watching as a determined resolution settled on Jack's face - because he'd already lost one underling to the Ripper and Will had just primed himself to be the second one to go. "He was all over me Jack. I didn't want to anger him by saying anything, and I didn't want to endanger Hannibal by telling him we were together but -""It's alright Will," Jack soothed and incredibly even Alana was now radiating concern (although probably because Will had just offered the possibility of Hannibal getting hurt). "We know who he is now and Gideon, he suggested that Chilton hasn't always been legal
with his methods."
With that he ushered Will into the car, a reassuring hand lingering on his shoulder. The profiler buried the smile threatening to break his lips beneath as many layers of composure as he could before he fished
his phone out of his pocket and send a quick text to Hannibal:
jack's sure. and he was all over me.
It took barely a minute.
Over you, my darling?
the ripper was courting someone, right? jack's sure now its me who was being wooed
There was no way his monster would miss just
what
Chilton had had to do in order to convince Jack of his attraction to Will.
How worrying. Are you alright, my love?
want to see you,
Will wrote in reply, biting back the grin that his monster's anger was bringing because even via words on a screen, Will could hear the fury at Chilton daring to infringe on what was his. Especially as Hannibal had already sacrificed so much of himself, and his work, to the Doctor's name.
I'm already in Wolf Trap, Will. Come home to me.
Will did smile then: soft and sweet because holy
shit
he loved this man.
always, idiot,
he couldn't resist typing,
always.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
"You smell like him," was the first thing Hannibal said when Will walked through the door.The European was sat stiffly in Will's armchair, gaze fixed steadily on him, a glass of whisky in his hand, his body poised and ready. "Did you let him touch you?" he asked, something dark and dangerous lurking in his voice.
Will's throat went dry at the sentence. The monster was coming out to play."And if I did?" he asked, cock stirring at the sight of his Ripper slowly rising and stalking towards him, the lines of his body clean and sharp. Hannibal looked feral with the need to possess and clearly eager to carve his name into Will's skin. It seemed, for the first time in a long time, Hannibal had realised just what Will was. He'd known the kind of partner he had in Will, and just what Will would do to reel in a catch, but it had been long enough for the extent to which Will had used his looks and charms to have been forgotten. Not to mention, of course, that in their bloody courting, Hannibal had occupied Will's sole attention, with no other suitors in sight. He'd been so focused on conquering Will, on bending him over and mounting him like a dog in heat, he'd let the notion of Will dominating another slip him by. Clearly the texts Will had sent and the knowledge that Chilton
wanted
was enough of a reminder that Will had teeth for the Lithuanian."Did you...let him...touch you?" Hannibal repeated, now caging Will against the wall, eyes empty, bottomless pits of rage and desperation. He'd take Will there and then, or try to, if the profiler said yes.
Will huffed a smile. "No," he murmured, leaning forward into the hollow of the man's throat. "But
fuck
he wanted to," he chuckled lowly at the rumble deep in Hannibal's chest. "When you picked someone to take the fall Han, you didn't have to ensure they were just as crazy in their obsession with me."
Hannibal was now flushed against him, his grip bruising and nearly painful.
"But his crazy got Jack concerned. He's pushing the judge for a warrant," he added, voice near soothing, "so I hope you've got all your ducks in a row." He paused. "They may end up arresting Chilton as early as tomorrow morning," he breathed, rutting forward and grinding his hard cock against the bulge his monster was now sporting. "And you've been so very, very patient, my monster."
Hannibal smiled languidly - a devilish, predatory smile that made Will moan breathily - before leaning down to lightly nip at Will's neck. "Well I suppose we have the evening to warm up then,
mylimasis." A hand snuck south, before pulling Will's phone from his pocket and stepping away to place it square in the middle of the desk beside them. "So we may hear when Jack comes-a-callin'," he crooned, before dragging Will flush to him once more. He slipped his tongue between Will's lips in a filthy, open-mouthed kiss that sounded wet and sloppy, alternating his hands between squeezing the flesh in his hands or rubbing against it.It didn't take long for Will to start whimpering, a high-pitched mewling sound as he yielded completely to the man who had moulded him into the best version of himself. He let his monster explore after weeks of being held tight on a leash. A couple of seconds of groping and Will was pulled up into Hannibal's arms. He wrapped himself around Hannibal entirely, locking his ankles at the small of the man's back and threading his fingers into Hannibal's hair. The serial mutilator turned the kiss into a brutal battle of teeth as he staggered over to the bed and threw Will down, immediately covering the younger man with the hard-packed lines of muscle he'd been so relentless in maintaining. A chuckle that sat low in the Lithuanian's throat made Will blink his eyes open - although he was unsure when he'd actually closed them."Were you any other,
mylimasis," he began, hands finding the front of Will's shirt and
ripping, sending buttons flying across the room, and baring his flesh to the Ripper, "I would have already taken
what I desired. I would have ravished you and defiled you for denying me. I would have opened you up, left you whimpering as your hands scrambled to push your bowels back inside your body while I watched, enjoying your liver with a fine white wine." He started to press suck-bruises and bites to the skin over the organs he names, enjoying the wide, eager gaze of his partner. "You would be broken and changed and born again in art as I saw fit. You would become my vision and would be helpless to stop me, justice for your rudeness and your teasing and your games," he hissed.There was a quiet hitch of breath.
"Love you too Han," Will replied, voice wavering a little as he tried to ignore the realisation that he'd just said the words they'd both been playing with aloud for the first time.
The maroon gaze of the Doctor immediately flickered up to meet Will's own from his place gnawing on Will's hip. There was an open, pleading honesty there that made Will feel so hopeful and warm. Hannibal pressed a feather-light kiss to the dark, purpling bruise he'd created, before crawling up so he could look directly into Will's eyes. His fingers lingered gently on the edges of Will's face.
"You are
everything,
my
mylimasis.
I ache for you even when we are together," he confessed. "I felt adrift in this world until I first saw you all those years ago and was unsteady again until that moment in Jack Crawford's office. I would give you the world. I would give you children if I could," he continued, other hand coming to cup at Will's stomach as though something precious could be held there; as though through sheer force of will, a combination of them both could grow inside of him. "I would turn a blade on myself if you commanded it," he continued, "I would lock myself in a cage should you desire it. I would do anything for you, my beloved."Will felt his eyes become suspiciously damp and there was something in his core that burned at the confession. His hand overlapped Hannibal's own and he squeezed once, letting a chuckle loose. "Who said monsters couldn't love?" he breathed, blinking and letting tears track his face, before lurching forward and capturing Hannibal's mouth with his own.
It was smouldering but steady, both content to move more leisurely in the face of an entire evening of foreplay.But neither man had lost the hardness of their cocks and after making out for half an hour, they quickly turned into two rutting teenagers, grinding through their clothes and whimpering into each other's mouths. A burst of movement and Will was flipping them, seating himself in Hannibal's lap and rotating his hips enough to wring gasps
from the Lithuanian beneath him. He quickly rid his partner of his shirt and popped the buttons on Hannibal’s trousers and yanking them down his legs as quickly as he could.His monster’s cock was something beautiful to behold: big and thick and tapering ever-so-slightly to the right. It was flushed with blood and beading pre-come, with some of the slick sliding its way down the shaft. He let loose the groan that was perched in the back of his throat and tilted forward, nuzzling his cheek into the v of Hannibal’s hips and watching as his cock jerked at Will’s closeness. He inched closer, flicking his eyes up to Hannibal, who was watching, enraptured.“You’re pretty, old man,” Will grinned before finally leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up the length of Hannibal’s cock. The man snarled, hand immediately tangling in Will’s hair as the profiler began to press open mouthed kisses to the shaft and then joined them with his tongue.The hand in Will’s hair tightened as Hannibal silently, but forcefully, urged him to take the length in his mouth. “Tease,” the European hissed, eyes black pools as wide as saucers.
"Always," Will huffed before yielding to the demand and taking the tip of the Lithuanian's cock in his mouth, groaning at the familiar taste and sensation that greeted him. It had been years, but it felt like moments, since he'd held Hannibal in his mouth. He remembered days where he'd been desperate for it, taking his partner into his mouth as soon as they shut the front door. He'd held the man in his mouth sometimes as they'd lay about the flat they'd shared, the Doctor crooning about how Will was his "good boy" and a "perfect little cock warmer". It had been dizzying and put him in an intoxicating place of subservience. It was one of the first times where Will remembered enjoying being on his knees - of letting his own pleasure come second to another's, feeding off the sensations of his partner and shaking
with need.
Hannibal had always made him kneel. No, he thought, Hannibal had always made him
want
to kneel.
"Mylimasis," Hannibal crooned. "You spectacular thing," he praised, guiding Will up and down as he took the cock deeper and deeper into his throat. The profiler swallowed hard around the organ in his mouth and grinned when Hannibal choked in reply, his hips jerking up just a touch. Even
wrecked
Hannibal was considerate in not trying to choke Will out. Not that he couldn't take it of course. But still, his monster was a gentleman. Will pulled off, taking in a breath and replacing his mouth with his hand, slicking the shaft liberally with his spit and Hannibal's pre-come, now oozing out of the tip."Wanna open me up?" he asked carelessly, eyes hooded and leaning back.Hannibal shifted startlingly quickly and Will fell, releasing his grip on Hannibal's cock and sprawling out on his back. The man loomed over him dangerously.
Will wasn't slick. He'd not planned to visit the hospital with his hole gaping wide and dripping lube, nor had he planned to press a plug in deep to stave off the aching emptiness inside. Firstly, there had been no Hannibal to tease and secondly, his acting skills vanished quickly when desperately turned on and he'd needed to
sell
the idea of the Ripper being Chilton to Jack. Thirdly, Hannibal would have been less teased and more furious to think that Will was flirting with Chilton while stretched wide around a plug, and Will wasn't stupid. There was only so far the Ripper could be pushed...even by him. So he was dry. Very dry. But that didn't stop Hannibal pulling on his rim like he'd squirted a whole bottle of lube up his ass. In a way, it felt nostalgic: like they were back in a nightclub alley and unable to wait to fuck.Hannibal's thumb was first, pressing against the skin and into the scorching heat, pulled inside by the eager, clinging muscles that swallowed his appendage as though it were starving. Hannibal grinned cruelly and popped his thumb inside and out several times, letting his nail catch every-so-often on Will's rim to draw a hiss from his lips. Luckily, however, that didn't hold his attention. Pulling his thumb free, he quickly jabbed two fingers inside, roughly forcing Will's body to accommodate him.The profiler keened, tossing his head back and jerking his hips towards the ceiling to try and lessen the ache - the burn of the stretch - that tore into him. "Fuck," he snarled, pleasure singing along his nerves at the pain. He felt young again, and inexperienced, trusting in his older partner to guide him and make him feel good. There was a thrill at that notion too: a recreation of Hannibal claiming some part of him that had always,
always
only ever been his. "You have fat fingers," he groaned, grinding down and forcing the appendages deeper, until Hannibal's nails glanced off his prostate and he howled.
Hannibal laughed lowly, eyes dark and unyielding, enjoying the pain and the pleasure etched on Will's face in equal measure. "You never complained before, Little One," he crooned, stabbing again and again at Will's prostate until he was leaking prolifically. "You begged for my fingers; used to beg for them to pull open that tight little hole of yours until it was gaping and ruined and overflowing with my come. You'd cry too, do you remember? So out of your mind with want, you used to sob and plead until you could grind your hole down on my hand." He twisted his fingers sharply, grinning widely, before leaning forward until he was whispering directly against the shell of Will's ear. "I promised you that you wouldn't be able to walk when I was through with you, Little One," he began, biting down on Will's neck hard and laughing into the skin when the profiler jerked and squealed in response. "I'm going to fuck you until your stomach rounds with my spend and your ass is so open it's
useless to me
unless I stuff you with all those fake cocks you plug yourself up with first before sliding in beside them.""Fuck," Will cursed, tears breaching the corners of his eyes as he rolled his hips down over and over and over to satisfy the itch beneath his skin and ease the burn crawling its way up his thighs and back. "H-Hannibal,
Hannibal," he begged, hands reaching out to clutch at the older man's shoulders.
"Darling," he murmured in reply, biting down
hard
on Will's clavicle until blood filled his mouth.A shrill ring broke the moment and Hannibal glanced over in the direction of the living room. He pulled his fingers free with little care, smirking when Will yelped at the motion, before stalking to the phone buzzing on the desk. He checked the front before grinning broadly and accepting the call.
"Jack," he greeted, voice a near purr and Will found his hands tangled in the sheets, tugging them closer. "Yes, yes of course. No, Will was a little worried after the events of today, I -," he broke off, letting a hum greet whatever Jack was saying. "Oh, Jack that's wonderful news, I'll be sure to let him know. Yes of course. Oh and congratulations Jack," he said, eyes now locked on Will, "it's not everyday you catch the Chesapeake Ripper." His expression was wild and, after another pleasantry, he was hanging up the phone.
"Jack," Will said from his place propped up on his side, sheets sweaty and tangled around him, "he's got Chilton?""The papers will announce that the notorious serial killer is, at last, behind bars," Hannibal replied, gaze unwavering and dark. "Ding dong," he growled, "the Ripper's dead.""You courted me, you killed for me; now you get to keep me," Will breathed.
"Oh Little One," Hannibal grinned, all sharp angles and teeth, "I was always going to keep you." And it was then that the man pounced.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Will could name a thousand things he loved about Hannibal, but there was one thing above all that he adored: the demanding, possessive way he fucked.
Hannibal Lecter fucked like the world was ending and he had only seconds left to enjoy the pleasures he'd spent a life time indulging in. He was claiming and thorough and overwhelming, filling all the space be could and possessing all of Will's senses. Everything he heard, saw, smelt, tasted, felt, was Hannibal - and Will
loved
it. He loved knowing that Hannibal wanted to own him, right down to his cells, and that he'd kill anyone who even attempted to have some part of Will.He knew that was what he had to look forward to when Hannibal launched himself at Will and pinned him to the bed, pupils blown and manic with anticipation.
"You're
mine," he snarled, accent bleeding into the nearly incomprehensible. "And I'm going to use every part of you."Will grinned: all teeth and amusement, cock aching
at the promise and heart racing in anticipation. "I'm yours and you have me," he agreed before smirking and biting at his lower lip. "But I'm not calling you
Daddy,
old man."A growl, teeth in his neck and then: "Beg for it," Hannibal commanded, every inch of the muscle packed body taught and ready to snap. "Beg."Will smiled coyly, looking up through his lashes and leaning forward so his breath fanned against Hannibal's face. "Never," he replied before lashing out and catching Hannibal in the stomach. He took the moment of surprise to bound forward, off the bed and away, before sprinting as fast as he could, bare feet slapping on the wood floor, a manic smile stretching his lips wide.
Solid muscle slammed into his from behind and a foot kicked out at his leg, causing it to buckle under him. Will pitched forward, hands barely catching himself as the full weight of the Ripper forced him to the floor. Before he had a chance to struggle, to make his monster work, or to appeal to the dark parts of them that found pleasure in hunts and fights, Will was howling. Because in one fluid thrust, Hannibal had forced himself inside.He was too dry, too unprepared - even with the quick fingering he'd had - and the ten year abstinence was clearly apparent. He felt like he was being torn apart, insides shredded and pulverised as they were forced apart by the thick girth of Hannibal's cock, but still his monster pushed inside - right down to the root.
He was too full, fraying at the seems as his skin felt tight on his bones. His stomach, forced north until it pushed up against his throat, was tight and writhing, make him shake violently in Hannibal's hold. The man only clutched to Will's body harder, locking his legs in place and forcing Will's face into the floor. "No...more...teasing," he snarled, nails turning to sharp points and digging deep into Will's skin. There was no chance of Will escaping, no place for him to go - and he loved the sensation of it. The hollowing, scorching burn that carved its way up his spine and made him want to empty his stomach on the floor; the bruising grip of his monster, bursting his blood vessels and burning reminders into his skin; the warning of teeth hovering over his bloody neck, still weeping from the last bite that split his flesh; it was everything he'd missed, everything he'd wanted, and everything that made Hannibal
Hannibal. There was no one who fucked like his monster - and no one who made Will feel so
owned."You're
mine," the Lithuanian spat, and it was then that he started to move. It was smooth, hard glides, each ending with a
snap
of Hannibal's hips that drove the breath from Will's lungs. He could do little more than arch his back as to dull the burn, and take whatever his monster decided to give him.
The Count didn't speed up, but nor did he slow down, leaving Will's mouth slack, drool pooling in the corner, while desperate little half sounds forced themselves past his lips. He was mewling, crescendoing into a cry when the tip of Hannibal's cock glanced off his prostate, to devolving into moans when his monster lingered a little too long in his heat. It was agonising - beautifully agonising.
"Open up for me, Little One," Hannibal crooned, breath fanning against the back of his neck. Will complied - of course he did - because it was
Hannibal.
It was
always
Hannibal.
He spread his legs a little wider, whimpering at the spasms of his muscles at the action, and Hannibal picked up the pace. While the slick of their sweat was making the slide of their bodies easier, the drag further south still made him sob - even if his cock hardened with every unyielding push inside. Will tried to lift his body up off the floor, only for the Lithuanian to force him back down. "No, no, no, Little One," he muttered, hand now digging into his shoulder blades. "You know what you have to do.""Never," Will moaned, voice muffled by the floor. "I won't beg," he cried as Hannibal jerked forward.
A laugh, then: "Yes you will."He stuttered his hips, forcing himself in so deeply, his balls no doubt hurt from being crushed against Will's cheeks. The profiler was screaming at the sensation before his even realised he'd opened his mouth. Hannibal only laughed, a hand wrapping its way around his Will's throat, a promise and a warning.
"What is it again?" Will croaked, tears in the corner of his eyes. "Le petit mort?""Would you like that?" Hannibal huffed, fingers tightening. "Would you like me to choke you out while I claim your hole, Little One?" A pause and suddenly Hannibal's hand clamped down. Immediately Will struggled, instinct making him want to thrash, but between the teeth once again in his shoulder and the cock still claiming his body, he ended up throwing back his head and gasping for whatever air he could. It was then that Hannibal started to move again and black spots began to dance at the edge of Will's vision. His blood was raging in his veins, his ears drowning in the sound of it, and little squawking sounds were forced from his throat. "You're so beautiful, Will," Hannibal was saying, voice swimming in and out of Will's awareness. And just when he was about to black out, the hand was gone.
Will reared back in an instant, almost dislodging Hannibal with the force of his movement, and screamed. His vision went white, his body spasmed and his cock jerked violently before he slumped forward. He became distinctly aware of a laugh echoing in his ear and of a thick wetness coating his stomach, thighs and the floor beneath him, but it all flitted from thought, instead he was drifting, floating on something. There was a vague feeling, further south, of fullness and of an aching, groan inducing thing. A sensation of spit spilling free from the corner of his mouth and sliding down his face, of breath on the back of his neck, of a burn in his knees. He was shaking, every muscle quivering.
A voice broken through the haze."My darling Will," Hannibal groaned. "Always so tight and hot and
perfect around me." He jerked his hips again, losing enough of his rhythm to let Will know he was already struggling to hold back the urge to come. "You waited for me, didn't you darling? My Little One, so twisted and beautiful, craving me, desperate enough for my cock that he waited years until I could push inside again." He was panting now, hot breath stinging on the open bite marks on Will's skin. "You're mine. And I'll make sure the world knows it. They'll see you limp into work, neck all bruised, and they'll know you let me back inside. Know I won you. Know I own you. And if they... don't... quite... grasp
it," he added, punctuating each work with a harsh and punishing thrust, "then maybe I'll just have to tie you down and own you in front of all of them." A dark laugh bubbled in the older man's chest. "You always did like an audience, didn't you Little One?"
"Hannibal," Will groaned, floating on sensation and trying desperately to make his limbs work so he could rock back into the thrusts.A hand slipped beneath him, making its way across his chest to his nipple, fingers rolling the bud, pinching it, twisting it mercilessly, forcing gasping pants to leave Will's lips.
"Hannibal," he said again, arching as best he could, tears brimming in his eyes, skin flushed a hundred different shades of red."Say it," the Lithuanian ordered. His voice dropped an octave. "Say. It.""PLEASE!" Will squealed, body thrashing as it tried to decide which way to go: away from the sensitivity or into it."Mine,
mine, always
mine," Hannibal groaned, picking up the pace until he was
rutting
into Will, sweat - slick and tart - smeared from one skin down the other, thighs, strong and unyielding, hammering against the back of Will's own. A hand snaked its way down, fumbling just a little as it cupped the half-attempt to get hard nesting in Will's crotch. He began to stroke, a cruel and unforgiving rhythm.
"Please, its too much," Will begged, "please Han.
Please, no,
yes, I-I can't come, Han,
please.""You'll come for me," he said, twisting his hand just so, thumb swiping over the weeping slit.A minute, maybe an hour, maybe a century, then:"Hannibal."Will convulsed, mouth opening in a silent scream as every muscle locked. There was a feral growl behind him before Hannibal stilled, hips only moving to jerk in sporadic, short, half-thrusts, as a warmth spread deep into his bowels. His eyes rolled back into his head and a full body shudder passed though him. The European was plastered against his back, pushing him into the hard floor and making his hipbones ache, but he made no effort to move, instead finding himself content to lie quietly to catch his breath - still full of Hannibal - as the come cooled on his thighs.Sensation returned slowly some time later, from his numb tongue - no doubt bitten in the melee - down to his toes. Kisses were being dotted along his shoulder blades, fleeting gentle things that melted Will's insides. His hand complained as he reached back, palm flattening on Hannibal's flank, the skin feverish and clammy with exertion."Worth the wait?" he croaked, tilting his head to the side just enough to catch his monster's eye.
Hannibal chuckled lowly. "Always, my darling boy." He let his eyes fluttered closed and inhaled deeply, no doubt savouring the combined scent of both their releases. "I do adore you so," he added, shifting just enough to pull a groan from the profiler.Will laughed. "You, monster, are without a doubt the love of my life," he chuckled, nuzzling into Hannibal's neck as much as he could from his place beneath the man. "I'm glad you’re home. With me," he added, feeling a touch shy at the sentiment."Will," Hannibal groaned softly, tone reverent, spreading his legs a little and beginning to rock forwards. He couldn't be hard, Will knew, but even softening, the European's girth was impressive and the younger man keened at the way it added fuel to the violent ache in his core."Be gentle with me," he gasped out, feeling hazy at the pain and the sensation of the Count's come that had begun to pool around his rim and drip down his inner thigh. "I'm not as young as I was before."Arms wrapped themselves around his chest, pulling them flush until nothing separated their skins, but still the steady, tender rocks stayed languid and easy on his worn body. "You are my world," Hannibal murmured against the shell of his ear. "I have loved you in every lifetime, my beautiful boy, and I will love you in every one we are yet to live." He nuzzled closer, until their foreheads were touching and their eyes were locked on each other. "You will want for nothing. Food, shelter, sex, death -
love. You will glut yourself on me, and I on you. You have me, William, until this world devolves into fire.""Han," the blue-eyed man gasped, hand clutching at Hannibal's own, as he enjoyed the lazy sway of their joined bodies."Shhh," Hannibal crooned, tender and soothing. "I've got you," he whispered. "We've got all the time in the world, my love," he added, thumb flicking over a nipple, "slowly now." He glanced down, noticing the valiant effort of Will's cock to get hard under the ministrations of the older man. "One more, sweetheart. Mylimasis, darling. Easy. One more, for me?" he asked, voice coaxing, drawing Will in for a leisurely kiss that, if he could
feel
them, would have curled Will's toes."I love you," Will answered, getting a little desperate again. "Oh, Hannibal," he sighed, voice high pitched and a little thin, "I love you, I
love you.""Shhhh, it's okay, I love you, my Will, my mylimasis. Let go, darling, just let go."And stars burned behind his eyes, tears tracked his cheeks and his body shook.
Not even the thick squelch of the doctor moving through his release, not the half twitch of him pumping another, half-load into Will, not the blooming bruises erupting before his eyes, could erase the sheer tenderness in which Hannibal had just made love to him. Their copulation had been a promise - a promise between monsters that their love was unconquerable.
"Mylimasis?" Hannibal asked after a moment, a puff of air against his ear. Will only hummed in reply. Something fond spread through Hannibal's chest if the smile at the back of the profiler's neck said anything. "Come on my love, let's get you clean." He paused. "I'm pulling out," he warned, moving backwards and groaning as he tried to extract himself from the hot clamp of Will's body.The younger man moaned loudly, a pained, reluctant sort of thing, until he was left with the overwhelming sense of emptiness that made him whimper. "I'm here darling," Hannibal said reassuringly, arms slipping underneath him before pulling him up into his arms. Will wrapped as much of himself around his lover but with leaden limbs it was a difficult task. "Are you alright, Little One?" he checked, palm splayed out on Will's back. The younger man nodded, letting Hannibal walk him into the bathroom and under the shower spray.
He could barely stand so let the European prop him up and wash them both down before stumbling back into bed, still damp but considerably less soiled than before.
Blankets covered him and the long line of heat against his side was intoxicating in its warmth. Will moved closer, into the muscle, hair and rumbling chuckle of his lover. "Ten out of ten," he mumbled into the skin of Hannibal's collarbone."Thank you mylimasis.""I'm empty," he added a moment later, nose scrunched up and clearly pouting at the situation. He threw a leg over Hannibal's and shifted closer. "Want your cock in me."Another laugh. "You can have it, you impish boy."
Will's hand fumbled around until his fingers wrapped around the soft cock laying limp and unassuming. He gave it a few quick tugs, smiling at the hisses coming from his monster, before shifting again and pushing as much of it inside of him as he could. After a few tries and a number of frustrated mewls, Hannibal took pity on the younger man and helped, groaning as he was welcomed back into his lover's heat. They shared a chaste kiss, shifting while they did until both were comfortable.
"You better not be done with me yet," Will whispered.
"No, love. I'm not."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Dawn was stretching her fingers through the half-open curtains that had been hastily wrenched closed the previous evening when Will's eyes finally fluttered open. His partner was still asleep beside him, hair falling in soft almost-curls on his face and making him appear so young and vulnerable that for a moment Will's heart lurched. He tended to forget his monster was so
human.His fingers inched forward of their own accord, hazily tracing the features so carelessly exposed to him, before his gaze wandered south. There were bruises and scratches that adored Hannibal's body - mirrors of his own - and fierce possession took root in his chest. Hannibal was his now,
completely and eternally. Death himself would struggle to separate them now, even with all the tricks he had learned and the seductive taste of his methods."You know that it's rude to stare," Hannibal huffed softly, eyes remaining closed but a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. He was smug, painfully smug, and Will didn't really blame him. The fierce ache in his core, lingering in every muscle was testament to the thoroughness of Hannibal's claim. If he could walk unaided during the day, it would be an unforeseen luxury. His body wanted to give in to the nausea and the cramps pulling his abdomen apart, but his brain relished in the knowledge that no one could deny just how desperately Hannibal loved him."You always liked me rude," Will muttered in reply, voice little more than a rasp and ladened with enough sleep to make Hannibal's half smile bloom into a fuller one.
"That I did," Hannibal grinned, moving forward and pushing a bare thigh in between Will's legs. The profiler rolled his eyes, instead wiggling his toes and sleepily stretching his arms up, moaning in satisfaction when they popped quietly. A laugh, barely there and almost kind. "I liked you pliable too," the Doctor added, lips fastening themselves to Will's neck and sucking.He arched. "Not always," the younger man replied."No," Hannibal said against his throat. "You are beautiful, radiant even, when violently ripping out a heart, or snarling at me in pleasure - fighting as though you want us to rut like animals in the wild." He paused, hands tracking south until a finger rested against his hole. "But there is something
delicious," he murmured, pushing on his rim just enough to part the flesh, "about taking you when your sleepy and warm and so soft." He was in up to the knuckle now, a slight wiggle from side to side that made Will groan and arch at the same time."I can't," Will gasped - a token protest and they both knew it. He was broken but not decimated. He'd take Hannibal easily and he'd enjoy every painful second."Yes you can," Hannibal replied, matter of fact. "You will." His fingers crooked and Will groaned low, gaining little pleasure but waves of pain at the action. "You're not torn, darling boy. A little bruised and aching I'm sure, but nothing that would stop me inching my way inside again."Will only moaned in reply, voice a touch too pitchy to convey anything but reluctant lust. Hannibal huffed at the sound.
"You like that, don't you Will? You like the idea of me just opening you up, even when your skin is splitting at the seams and your body rebels against you. You like the thought of me just pushing inside. Making space. Forcing you to be accommodating." His thigh shifted and urged his legs to fall open. Fingers slipping free and a hand on his hip was all the warning before Hannibal was sinking into his heat.It hurt. Will's body trembled and his hands fluttered, unsure where to settle but needing
something to make-it-stop. Then Hannibal was in up the root, breath fanning against his neck and his own flanks shivering at the effort of going so slowly. It was excruciating: the pain, the wait, the lingering heaviness in his gut as Hannibal just stayed there."You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you Little One?" he said, humoured, withdrawing in one slow stroke that dragged against Will's insides like sandpaper and
pulled at them too. He left only the tip of his cock inside before sheathing himself again, easy and painfully slowly. "Wouldn't you?""Yes," Will choked out, too far gone to put up any resistance that might spice up the coupling.A dark laugh. "You're lucky I am so possessive over you, William. So determined to keep you as my own. Otherwise I'd see just how far I could push your dedication. How far could I push you?""Yes," he gasped, drifting a little now."Oh Little One, you're so
gone, aren't you? And you'd obey so beautifully. Would you like to know what I'd do?"
Drag - push - drag - push - pain - pain - pleasure...
"Hannibal," he moaned."I'd tie you down, darling. Gagged and blindfolded and completely at my mercy. You'd shiver so beautifully and tremble as I put my hands on you. You'd want to cry out, you'd
need
to, but you'd only soak yourself in drool. I'd spread your legs - I still have the spreader bar you so enjoyed all those years ago - and I'd spank your hole until it was so bright and red, it would safely guide in planes. You'd weep so prettily for me. You'd be so hard too, but unable to come. I'd lock away that cock of yours, bound right here..."Hannibal reach south and gripped Will's balls tightly, giving them a sharp tug and grinning savagely at the cry of pain in reply. His hips began to pick up the pace now, a smooth, steady glide building towards his orgasm.
"Please," Will gasped."Oh, darling. I wouldn't let you come. Oh no, not until you've satisfied me. You see, we wouldn't be the only ones in the room," he smirked, driving forward. "I'd start with the women. I'd let them straddle you, wet your cock with their slick, smear themselves across your face, I'd let them ride you. Watch you squeal as they drove you closer, knowing that I'd never let you come. They'd sink down, eventually, all warm and wet around you, quivering as they took their pleasure, used you and then, discarded you. Then, the men. Your ass is mine, Little One, but your throat?" Another dark chuckle. "They'd line up around the block at the chance to feed themselves to you, to dirty your mouth with their seed, to be consumed by you. And when your stomach is bloated with come, when you're gagging on it and the smell is all consuming, then I'd slip inside. I'd bathe you in my claim. Sear my name onto your soul. They would bear witness to our love and then would be incinerated before it. You'd have taken so many of them inside, but you would know only my mark beneath your skin." The man hissed, eyes blowing wide before he spilled deep inside. Three rough strokes and Will was following him, body vehemently protesting the action.He slipped free while they regained their breath. "It's a good job you're possessive then," Will huffed, smirking and then wincing at the movement.Hannibal grinned, smug and smitten. "Quite," he swore. "You will know the touch of no other while I still breathe, my love," he leaned in, pressing a kiss to Will's cheek, "but it is quite an enticing fantasy."Will rolled his eyes and then attempted to sit. A wave of pain accompanied the motion but within an instant Hannibal was pulling him to sit in his lap, forehead pressed to the other man's shoulder and a soothing hand rubbing circles in his lower back."I must recommend total rest and restraint from vigorous activity," the Doctor said, deadpan, non-plussed at the bitch face Will immediately levelled at him.
The profiler scowled, digging his nails deep into the Count's abdomen, grinning when he hissed in pain. "You're lucky I love you," he muttered, sinking deeper into flesh with every word."I dare say I am."Will snorted before sighing. "We can't stay in bed forever," he began, "you need an ace in the hole after all."Hannibal huffed, hands tracking south to thumb at his hole now oozing come. "I thought I had one?""Crude, Doctor," Will replied, nails drawing blood when Hannibal shifted just enough so Will's wet rim rubbing tantalising against his spongy head, also still slick with spend. "I haven't waited this long, haven't let you fill me with your come until I'm overflowing, just to have it fall through on a technicality.""Jack believes Chilton is the Ripper," Hannibal retorted, eyes narrowing in annoyance.
"Technicalities," Will shot back.
"You think me so inept," he snarled.
"I think there needs to be no room for reasonable doubt. What if he has alibis for key murders? We need them to question the science rather than if they have the wrong man."It had been only hours, but Will worried. Perhaps it was because the notion of Chilton being the Ripper was so ludicrous, he didn't know how anyone could believe it. Or maybe it was the possibility of things not quite lining up. Hannibal's work was flawless and he had been just convincing enough that there should be no doubt as to who the Ripper was, but he wanted the Doctor under lock and key in the institute he'd strutted around, now. He wanted a neat and thick line drawn under the Ripper, so he and Hannibal could live - and if they wished to, leave - without suspicion.
"What would you suggest, Little One?" Hannibal asked, fingers aligning with the deep purple,
violent
bruises that he'd left hours previously and only angered each hour since."A witness would be good," he muttered into the European's throat, thinking. "Someone who can point at Chilton and call him a monster.""Aren't you enough?" Hannibal laughed softly."I haven't been traumatised by the Ripper," he snorted."No, you haven't Little One," he grinned, "you've been defiled."Will snorted, amused, a smile pulling at his lips. "I'm serious," he continued, stabbing a finger down cruelly into the bloody marks left by his finger nails.
Hannibal hummed, thinking for a moment. "I might have someone," he murmured, hands turning tender as he continued his soothing circles on Will's broken form."Of course you do," Will rolled his eyes. "Is your witness reliable?"A mean smile curled Hannibal's mouth. "Uncle Jack will think so."Will frowned, eyes narrowing. "Who have you got stashed away, monster?""Someone who can point at Chilton and call him the Ripper, mylimasis," he replied, smug. "With a little push that is.""Push?" It only took Will a moment. "Psychic driving?" he asked dubiously.
"Done properly of course," the European added. "An insurance policy I have maintained should the need arise."Will tilted his head, looking down through his lashes in curiosity. "Aren't you Little-Miss-Always-Prepared."Hannibal's expression was one of being distinctly unimpressed. "Think my darling," he urged, thumb dragging over his body, connecting the bruises like a perverse dot-to-dot. "Who has the Ripper taken that Jack would trust so implicitly."A pause, a frown, then: "Fucking
Lass?!" The Count laughed, sunny and light, at his beloved's expression. "Well," Will snorted, smiling now himself, "that's one hell of an ace in the hole."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
They had to tear themselves away from the bedroom eventually. Not only did Hannibal need to return Miriam Lass to the board, Will's body
needed to rest.He had been right in his estimation. Standing had been a luxury he'd not yet received and his first and only attempt had seen him crumple to the ground, every part of his body
shaking with over-exertion and weakness. Hannibal, watching, had let something dark and dangerous flood his features before moving forward and helping his lover to his feet. Will could feel he was hard. There was something about his state that intoxicated the killer - probably because it was visible proof of just how far Will had pushed himself to take the European. He had broken down his body, bruised, burst and bloodied his flesh, just to allow Hannibal to return to his place inside. But despite the thick undercurrent of persistent sexual tension; despite Hannibal's obvious desire to
fuck and
claim
and
fuck
again, neither man addressed it. It remained an unspoken thing hanging in the air: through the tender bath the Doctor gave to his lover, sponge gentle and slow, removing all evidence of their pleasure and soothing his skin until it dusted itself with a flushed pink. It lived through his clinical examination, checking his rim for tearing or damage, and the methodical application of cream to the bruises and the brutalised flesh. Even through Hannibal dressing him in the softest, kindest clothes available, guiding him to the couch with slow, patient steps, and hand-feeding him, whispering quiet urges ever time Will's stomach cramped in complaint. His hand had cupped the profiler's abdomen, just holding, like a lover might cup his pregnant partner's blooming belly, even though the demanding, persistent bulge tenting his trousers was steadily turning sodden with slick as the head of his cock wept and wept and
wept. Despite the need that must be clawing in his veins, Hannibal was single-mindedly focused upon completely mending his beloved, before tearing him down again even became a possibility. Will hadn't offered - he was tired, achey and there was something pleasant settling in his bones at the notion of being so
wanted. His lovers, before, had been all the same: fumbling, eager things that wanted him to croon to them. They wanted him, but they were wanton in their want. Hannibal's want was all-consuming, enduring and lived in all aspects of their interactions. The young red-haired boy he'd fucked and murdered in Texas many years previously would never have ignored his cock to guide him into the bath, nor withheld his own pleasure to help him walk to the toilet.
That kind of want made Will dizzy.Hannibal left a little after three o'clock in the afternoon, having seen to Will's dogs and also Will himself, he could put it off no longer. The doctor pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead with a promise to return later that evening before disappearing out the door, the rumble of the Bentley starting up moments later. Although, while the Ripper had gone back to work, Will found himself huddled under blankets, stomach clenching and cramping cruelly whenever he tried to move. He'd considered passing the time by reading, but sitting up was a task he didn't want to endure yet. His body rebelled against him, fighting and clawing, and Will wondered just when he might be able to regain control. He hoped it would be before his monster went hunting once more. Will longed to be by Hannibal's side as he unleashed the creature that lurked in his veins and hunted to sustain them both. It had been many years since he had
seen beyond what his mind conjured for him and his darling's work was too monstrous in its beauty to live comfortably only in Will's overactive imagination.More than a couple of hours had passed before his phone rang. He'd thought it was Hannibal, checking in and making sure he hadn't overexerted himself, but the caller ID said
Evil Overlord.
Jack, then,
no doubt keeping Will in the loop about Chilton. For a moment Will wasn't sure whether he should answer, he wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with the man who made him want to carve up his own face just for something else to do other than follow the older man's orders. He often felt like a rat, following the Rattenfänger von Hameln and his sweet music, which was a testament to both how deeply Will had immersed himself in the role of the awkward teacher and how domineering Jack could be. But, the profiler thought, flicking his finger across the screen, they were in the final stretch now, the track opening out towards the finishing line, and Will had to help Hannibal over it in any way he could.Luckily, with the state of his body, he needed no acting to sound thoroughly wrung out and exhausted. To sound as though the weight of it all was simply too much. To make it sound like the Ripper had burned through Will's defences and left him scared and vulnerable and, just like Miriam had been,
innocent.
"Jack," he mumbled, voice grating.
"Jesus Will," the older man said after a moment of silence, clearly wrong-footed and suddenly hesitant, "are you alright?""Its been stressful," he replied with a forced half-chuckle, tone slipping into frayed easily.
"Hannibal mentioned you'd been worried about the Ripper," Jack murmured, guilt lacing his tone. He clearly hadn't phoned for this but was human enough to note the emotion in Will's voice. The younger man could hear the cogs turning in Jack's mind, hear him strategise and plan and wonder if what he was about to ask was right and, ultimately, if he could ask it at all.
"Yeah. I just -" he paused, drawing in a shaky breath that hitched enough to be child-like, "after being so close
and he..." Another pause. "I was so worried about Hannibal.""We've got him Will," Jack soothed, tone firm and reassuring, father-like almost. A teacher comforting his disciple. "He won't come after you, or Hannibal. You're both safe."And here,
here, is where Will's part in the performance had to be
perfect. "Are you sure?" Will mumbled, sounding as nervous and desperate as he dared. "The Ripper's clever Jack, you know
he is. There's going to be so much that doesn't fit, he'll have covered his tracks so well. What if he
wanted
this? What if he let us catch him because he knows we don't have enough? What if this is part of the game and he's just waiting to be set free so he can come and
take
me and
hurt
Hannibal -" His breath was hitching again now. "What if he get's found innocent, they- they can't... if he walks, Jack - ""Will," Jack cut in, hard and unyielding, a demand. "Breathe.""Jack," Will half-gasped, head spinning with the lack of oxygen as he forced himself into a panic attack. "I have peered into more killer's heads than I can count and the Ripper has always been the darkest, of
all. The one that set my brain on fire. He's wrath and destruction and cunning and pain, Jack," he said, rushing through the words quickly, his tone imploring the older man to understand, to see. "I've done all I can to catch these killers, but I've never had anything to lose before. I will not lose Hannibal to him. Until I know Hannibal's
safe, completely safe, I-I... I can't
look."There was a long and heavy silence that filled the phone line until it spilled out into the bedroom and it filled that too. It engulfed them both, suffocating in its density and persistent. A fungus invading their lungs and sealing off their chests. Jack could hear Will's heart crack at the thought of losing Hannibal and he could hear how certain he was in his decision. Jack knew, wholeheartedly, that his best profiler would not go near another crime scene, nor pick up another file, not peek beneath another scalp, until Dr Frederick Chilton was locked behind the bars he once held keys to.And that was exactly what Will wanted him to know.
Jack drew in a long, steadying breath. "I get it," he conceded, voice a little unsteady himself. "I don't
like it, but I get it. I'd be the same... about Bella." Another silence. "I'm not going to let Chilton get away Will, and I think we have enough, but - if it helps you sleep a little better - then I'll keep looking. I'll build up as much as I can. Okay? I promise, Will. I'll make sure nothing happens to you or Hannibal."Something deep rooted unfurled a little at the sentiment, because Jack clearly meant it. It may have come prominently from selfish reasons, but beneath that, Jack really did want Will to feel safe - and to feel that Hannibal was safe."Thanks," Will murmured, eyes flickering up to the shadow now lurking in his doorway. "I just -" Will sighed, dropping his voice to a whisper, "he's my person Jack." Hannibal's eyebrows rose, curious. "We've waited so long," he continued, beckoning his monster closer, "and I can't let the Ripper get him because he's trying to get to me.""I know," Jack replied, kind, paternal. "You found him, Will. Let us take the reins for a while. Go be with Hannibal, we'll watch your back." With that, Jack ended the call.Will checked the line had completely disconnected before tossing it aside. "Jack's going to be looking for more evidence," he offered in greeting, hands curling around Hannibal's arms and tugging him down until he lay flush against Will's side - a warm line soothing the aches he'd created.Hannibal smiled dangerously. "You cunning boy," he whispered, a gentle kiss to his cheek."Did you sort Lass?""She'll make her daring escape some point tomorrow afternoon, I believe and, between her testimony and the paper trail it will take several days for the FBI to uncover, there will be enough concrete evidence to convict and, dare I say it, to pursue the death penalty," he explained, smug."Good," Will nodded. "Jack'll find it," he said again, pointlessly."He seemed motivated," Hannibal murmured.
"I said no more cases until the Ripper's not a threat."
A dark and silk-smooth grin eased over the man's features.
"My darling, cunning, beautiful boy," he whispered. "And they call me the monster."Will huffed a laugh, burrowing into Hannibal's side. "Hold me?" he asked.
Hannibal hummed low in his throat, arms wrapping themselves like tentacles around the younger man. "Until the world burns to ash, Little One," he swore. "And even beyond that too."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Miriam Lass' return
broke the news.
The headlines scrawled across every screen and the eyes of America turned once more to Virginia. Outlandish theories, even more outlandish statements, ran rampant. They asked
how and why and couldn't understand because this was the Ripper. People wondered whether the Ripper had loved her, had pitied her, whether she'd been taken by the Ripper at all. Others asked whether she
was
the Ripper, whether she now worked with the Ripper and Will had made a snide comment at that, pushing his face into Hannibal's chest and grinning. They dragged out old neighbours, the lady in the grocery store, her high school teacher and the estranged friends who'd long given up, knowing that the Ripper only ever did one thing to those he took: rip.The hysteria was so much that, if Will hadn't known the FBI had been successful in keeping her survival under wraps for four days, he would have shaken his head at their stupidity at letting it leak so early. A single grainy photograph, curtesy of one red-headed Freddie, and Miriam was thrust face-first into the monstrosity of the public eye. Will felt sorry for her then - he'd been ogled and picked at by the vultures that circled overhead - but that sorrow vanished quickly at the look in her eyes.
Hannibal had broken her, of course, but not all of her. Fire licked at the inside of her irises and demanded to be seen. Lass was strong-headed and forceful, a tornado on the warpath and Will let himself stir at the knowledge that his monster had once more pulled off the impossible. Jack had a witness too broken to be of any real use, but too strong to seem broken: a perfect balance.
"It took time," Hannibal offered when Will asked. "Time, drugs and above all patience. She was already disassociated, slipping Chilton into her conscience was not difficult." He said it with an air of arrogance, the type achieved when someone is aware they've accomplished a great feat but want to appear humble. He was prideful, desperate for Will to see the effort behind the woman who now held their future in her hands -Hand.Hannibal didn't let her go entirely. Will snorted, shook his head and dragged his weary body closer until he could easily lick into the European's mouth and bite down on his lips in reward. "Bastard," he'd hissed, too fond for the killer to see anything other than Will's love for him.
True to his word, Jack had not approached Will, nor had he called on Hannibal, seemingly accepting that his star profiler and second-choice psychiatrist were both out of action until Chilton got twenty-five to life. It was a surprising twist, especially given Jack's promises to Will were built on foundations of sand, but gave them both the time to process and consider any next steps.One thing Will hadn't considered, however, was the idea of Chilton pointing the finger at them. It was a notion that burst to the forefront of his mind with little fanfare and refused to move. The profiler was certain that he'd think Will above any such brutality - rose tinted glasses were glorious in that way - but Hannibal was different. Hannibal had been a rival to Chilton, an untouchable creature
above and
beyond
what the institute doctor could ever hope to be, and it meant envy sat ripe in his chest. When Will voiced his concerns, the response made him rage: because Hannibal had known Chilton would do such a thing, and in fact he
expected it.Will saw red, his voice clambering up through the octaves and the decibels until his baisūnas felt the full heat of the fury that burnt beneath his skin.
"I made Jack look," he screamed, hands tightly clenched in fists and sending the dogs skittering outside. Will was glad his closest neighbours were miles away. "YOU - y-you should have TOLD ME that - I pushed Jack to -""Darling -""DON'T DARLING ME ASSHOLE!" he roared, swinging around on his heel, blue eyes wide. Jack's words: "then I'll keep looking. I'll build up as much as I can"
bounced around in his brain, pinging off the bone, and letting something nasty brew in his chest. "I
REFUSE
TO LOSE YOU.""You won't -""You think Chilton is going to point at us," he hissed. "Correction, you
know Chilton's going to point at us, and you let me lead Jack down the path, let me convince him to keep his mind open.""William," Hannibal bit out. "I fit the profile. It would be ridiculous to assume Chilton would take this without at least
trying
to shift attention elsewhere."Will slumped at that, suddenly exhausted and trying to ignore the fear bubbling in his chest and the tears that brewed at the corner of his eyes. "You should have told me."A soft breath. "I know, mylimasis,
but I had hoped to spare you the concern." The profiler glanced up as Hannibal bent down, hand entwining with Will's own. "You don't have to worry my love.""What?""Come," Hannibal urged, pulling Will to his feet and ushering him into the Bentley. Five minutes later they were driving to the townhouse in Baltimore, Will keeping stubbornly quiet and fixing his gaze beyond the horizon, curious as to how anything could possibly negate the risk that, until an hour previously, he'd not been aware of.Then he walked inside.Everything was gone.
The dungeon was a wine cellar. Wall to wall racks of old vintages and cheap cooking wines and brands that Will drank when he wanted the buzz quickly and without emptying his savings account. No hooks hung from the ceiling and even the dingy light had been upgraded so it looked like a collectors prized room rather than the scene of a horror film nightmare.The freezers of meat were empty and filled with nothing but ice or frozen desserts. Will's favourite ice-cream was there, as were the flavoured popsicles he's teased his monster with so often before. They sat, innocent, where three portions of liver, a mandible and slices of thigh had been the last time Will found himself in Hannibal's kitchen.The chains now sat in the garage, alongside a crate of D.I.Y tools that Will had been looking for a few days previously. There was even a dismembered engine, complete with new, and old, parts strewn around, as though he'd been halfway through a rebuild before being called in for dinner.The plastic sheeting that had kept blood off the walls, and off Hannibal, was probably long gone, but the forth room on the second floor was now covered with similar sheets. It was draped over the furnishings and the wooden floor, and had been flecked with forest green paint. It was the same colour that now covered two and a half of the room's walls. They'd been decorating apparently.What remained of Hannibal's medical equipment - including his surgeon's kit - had been neatly packed away in boxes in the attic, between medical textbooks, journals and old notebooks from the doctor's time in school. It all looked like a man who had tidied away that part of his life but kept keepsakes for sentimental value. And if the thin line of dust on each of the boxes was anything to go by, a part of his life untouched by this new chapter.Some of Will's things were dotted around too. An abandoned book in the living room, a coat thrown over a chair in the kitchen. A pile of papers and a file on the dining room table. Shoes by the door. A fishing rod in the umbrella stand. A blanket and a sweater in the study. Sunglasses, a pack of gum and fifty eight cents in the bowl by the door, a dog lead hanging on the hook above it. It was just enough to make them look like comfortable, permeant lovers with no issue of demanding places in the other's space. Will was his alibi. And Hannibal was his."Holy shit," Will breathed, moving from room to room. "This is -""I hope you don't begrudge me the theft of some of your things.""You've really built this up, Han," Will murmured.He moved up to the third floor, laughing as he went at the small, little nods to each other in nearly every room. He glanced back, bemused, before tugging down on a door handle, only for it to refuse him entry. He tried again.
"It's locked," he said stupidly."How astute."Will rolled his eyes. "What?" he asked as Hannibal pulled a key from his pocket. "You put all your murder stuff in here?""Not quite," he replied.
"You know this is the first place they'll look," Will said, tone concerned.
A wicked grin slid onto the European's face as he pushed open the door. "That's the idea, mylimasis."The blue-eyed man glanced inside and burst into laughter immediately.
It was clever, very clever, and any team investigating them would no doubt immediately assume that this was the worst secret Doctor Lecter kept. Behind a locked door, at the top of the house, out of sight, filled with things that would make all of them increasingly uncomfortable.
Hannibal had made him a playroom."Holy.
Shit."The bed was king size with a solid wood frame that had large metal hoops bolted to each corner. Ribbon had been unceremoniously wrapped around each one over and over again until the glint of hard silver was nearly impossible to see. There was just enough to be wound around his wrists twice, maybe three times, but not enough to let him move from wherever Hannibal wanted him. Will could already feel the pull from each as them kept him spread-eagle on the mattress.To the side of the bed, pushed up against the wall was what looked like a bench with an adjustable-frame, padded in soft black leather. It had lockable cuffs in three separate places - at the back near the floor for his feet, a similar set next to them presumably for his hands when Hannibal felt like bending him in half, and another towards the front for when he was stretched out and preening. It took Will a moment notice the spreader bar propped up beside it and holy shit
it was the same one his monster had all those years ago. He'd wondered when Hannibal had mentioned it the previous week. There was a full length mirror in the far corner and Will could see it was on wheels, sending a feeling of warmth cascading down his spine.Will felt pulled deeper into the room by a force he couldn't control. He went first to the built in wardrobe to the left, curiosity making his fingers jittery. Some of the items inside were standard: towels and soft clothes, clearly for after he'd come so hard his brain seeped from his ears. Other's were decidedly less so.A large section of the wardrobe had been dedicated to lingerie and Will didn't know why he was surprised by that fact. Hannibal had always enjoyed the age difference, and the size difference, between the two; not to mention he'd love dressing Will up in fancy clothes - why would underwear be any different? He turned, raising an eyebrow, but the doctor remained impassive, allowing his lover to explore. He could tell by the texture, and some of the brands, that Hannibal had been lavish in his spending. Towards the back were three corsets, one red, one blue and one a dark, regal purple, and there was a sudden stab of jealousy that spiralled through Will that maybe this - or at least these - had not been bought for him. He was reassured immediately by arms around his waist and a soft voice breathing: "I do hope you'll indulge me mylimasis, at least the once. I do love to see you in red."Will barked out a laugh, settling into the embrace, amused at the swell of arousal he found there. "We'll see baisūnas," he replied coyly, putting the clothes back.A single chest of draws to the left drew him next and, after a glance at Hannibal, he opened each. Sex toys - the entire thing was filled with them. A draw of dildos, Bad Dragon included, a draw of plugs and gags, a draw of cock rings, cages and sounds, a draw of whips which included a cane and a cat o' nine tails, plus a final draw of other miscellaneous objects, including handcuffs, rope, collars, nipple-clamps and blindfolds.Hannibal, it seemed, had bought the contents of a sex shop."You've been busy," Will breathed, fingers running over the toys lightly.
"I will confess that such an undertaking was only, in part, driven by our wish to leave the Ripper behind," Hannibal said, hand now splayed wide over Will's stomach and chest flush to his back.Will's laugh made them both shake. "You're saying you wanted to make me a dungeon anyway?" The scowl against his neck made him grin.
"This is not a dungeon mylimasis.""It's definitely not," Will agreed. "If Chilton points this way, there's not going to be any evidence -""None.""And if they get a warrant to search the house, the only secret they'll uncover is that we're both extremely kinky, extremely horny bastards.""Indeed." A pause before a hesitant: "They may question if our coupling is consensual, mylimasis."Will flinched, pulling away. "Why the fuck would -""You have built quite a persona, darling boy," Hannibal replied quickly, soothing him with a kiss and folding him back into the embrace. "A persona with quiet, soft lines and a bite when cornered. Every person you are acquainted with thinks you isolated and incapable of relinquishing control. What is this, if not relinquishing control?""To
you," Will shot back petulantly.
He chuckled warmly. "I'm going to assume that's meant as a compliment."Will hummed, glancing around. "Part of me wants Chilton to point at you now.""So you can see me embarrassed?""So they can see how well you take care of me," Will muttered, laying his hand over Hannibal's and lacing their fingers together. "So they can see how you...satisfy me.""You always did like an audience," Hannibal breathed.
"Only because you fucked me twice as deep for twice as long because you needed them to know I was yours.""Mine indeed," he smiled, hand slipping lower now.
"I'm still sore," Will reminded him.
"I have no intention of defiling you Little One, at least not until you are fully healed. But I can glut myself on you without having to sheath myself in your warmth." His hand was beneath his trousers now, cupping at arousal that had been steadily growing during his investigation of the room.
"Hold up, old man," he huffed, "you've bought me all this stuff, how about we use some of it." A flicker in the European's gaze and Will was smirking. "Go downstairs and lock up," he ordered, shucking his jacket and beginning to unbutton his shirt. A kiss that was more teeth than tongue and Hannibal was out the room.Will dropped his clothes quickly, putting them on a plush, velvet chair in the en-suite he'd not noticed previously. His boxers quickly followed and he dug about in the wardrobe until he found a bright red pair of lace-satin panties. They were soft and felt nice on his skin. He tucked his half hard cock in as much as he was able but the head still peeked up over the waistband. Although considering they weren't designed to house one, they framed his cock well. He checked his reflection in the mirror, turning one way and then the other, and found that he didn't look bad at all.He wondered why it had taken him so long to try.He flopped into the middle of the bed, eyes wandering not to the door but to the bench. As soon as he was one hundred percent, he wanted to break it in. He wondered if he batted his eyelashes enough, stuck out his tongue and begged, he could tie Hannibal down instead, just take and take and take until the European pleaded with him to have a load on his face just to give his hole a rest.He spread his limbs, stretching, fingers tangling in the sheets, until a choking sound had him glancing up. He grinned, looking up from beneath his eyelashes. "Something told me these would be a winner," he said.Hannibal's pupils were dark, bottomless pits. "You are a siren, luring me to my doom," he hissed, staggering forward, carelessly dropping his clothes as he went in a rare display of messiness.
"Doom?" Will echoed coyly, letting his legs fall open and biting down on his lip just enough to redden it.
"I would throw myself upon the rocks at just the sight of you," Hannibal confessed, hands gravitating to Will's hips, fingers splaying wide over the lace covered cheeks, as his face dropped until he was eye level with his crotch.
"That doesn't sound very fun," Will huffed, arching just enough to pull a growl from his lover."Still healing and still able to rip the sanity from me," the Count snarled, grip turning punishing. He leaned forward and took the tip into his mouth, suckling on it like a babe. Will groaned, body wanting to writhe at the sensation of
hot-wet-tight but enable to move in the unforgiving grip of his lover. "You taste particularly good today mylimasis," he offered.
Will swore. "All those fucking dishes you keep making. I knew there was a reason," he hissed quietly, words drowned out with particularly loud
suck
from between his legs as Hannibal slathered the first inch of Will's dick with enough attention to have him keening. A hum and Will was arching his back, trying to get deeper.
"Oh darling," Hannibal said, pulling away and reaching behind him. Will whined, which pitched into a squeak when something cold and hard bit at first his left, then his right nipple.
Clamps.
They were pretty things, connected by a silver chain, and Will shouted to the ceiling when Hannibal pulled down and they bit deep into his flesh. He was tucked back inside his panties, but the head of his cock was far too sensitive for something as smooth and silky as satin. It tormented him and he began rocking into, and away from, the sensation. Hannibal pulled on the chain again, flipping Will onto his hands and knees and plastering his naked body over the profiler's own.
"Thighs tight together now love," he crooned, manhandling the younger man into place. Something slick pushed its way between them and it took Will's brain a few moments to realise Hannibal was fucking his thighs while his free hand pulled harshly on the chain now dangling from its place attached to Will's chest. "Can you come from this?" he asked after a few moments of
slick-slide-quiet-wet-gasp.
"I don't - d-don't
know," he exhaled, whimpering at how puffy his chest felt when once again Hannibal tugged downwards.
"I think you can," he muttered. "My mylimasis,
my siren, my wicked, cunning Little One.""Han -""Focus William," he breathed. "Focus on you, how wet your panties are getting, how you're soaking them through. Oh you're just so desperate, aren't you. You want it so much -" Will was nodding now. "You do, of course, look at you, leaking everywhere. I bought those pretty things for you, darling. Because you're just so pretty. The assistant, she asked what my wife might like. Oh, I told her my darling wife loved to paint herself in red. Red on her hands, red on her lips, red wrapped around her waist. I told her that I thought buying something to wrap her pretty little cock in red was a safe gift from her beloved." His thighs were beginning to ache now, the backs of them bruising as Hannibal's own pounded against them, quads slamming against the tender parts of him.
Another tug. Another gasp.
"But you can't come in your panties without me playing with you, can you love? No, pretty little things like you need a lot of attention, otherwise they get bored and bored little ones get naughty. They need
satisfaction," he laughed, yanking down
hard
and grinning when Will finally toppled over the edge, drenching the satin still flush against him with enough come to make it immediately uncomfortable.
Hannibal followed moments later, first painting the back of Will's thighs and then, after a split second, pulling down the underwear and finishing off on his lover's ass. When he finished, the Count neatly pulled the panties back up and pressed a kiss to the small of Will's back.
"You are the kinkiest fucker I know," Will breathed, wincing as he fell forward onto his chest. A hand reached around and began easing the clamps off. The flow of blood back into his abused nipples made him tremble and whine, which Hannibal watched with dark amusement.
"Experimentation in the bedroom is healthy," Hannibal replied with a small smile.
"Amen," Will muttered. "Give me a week and we'll really break this room in.""We are in no rush mylimasis."Will glanced behind him cocked an eyebrow. "No?"Hannibal smiled and shrugged. "We'll soon have all the time in the world."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Lust was not a new concept for Will.Lust was old, well-used and had intertwined itself with his darkness so deeply that simple hook-ups were near impossible unless he wanted the hassle of disposing of a body and scrubbing blood out of a hotel carpet after-the-fact. But while difficult, lust was sticky and familiar. An old friend who appeared and demanded the couch and the orange juice from your fridge before leaving a day later with fifty of your dollars and a shit-eating grin. He knew lust, he owned lust, and it lived and breathed in most of his best memories.Love, on the other hand, was a work in progress.The emotion was tentative, strange - a relative alien in Will's life - as it crept around and seeping through the cracks in his mask. Love was uncomfortable, not because he'd never felt it, but because he'd never let himself sink into it. Will had been buried in lust and blood, up to his elbows in the gore and fluid of his conquests, for years, but he was never fulfilled.
There was a constant, gnawing hunger for more: more sex, more violence, more death. His lust was greedy and unrepentant. His lust was unfulfilling.But Hannibal was fulfilling.Hannibal filled in the spaces and left him sated.So Will worked on love.He worked day and night and day and night to understand, to fully embrace, the feeling; to not give in to the urge run from love, because the man was worth it. His dedication to building a perfect playroom for the pair of them, disposing of his tools and his makeshift abattoir to keep them safe from the law or whomever might be bold enough to come after them should enough puzzle pieces begin to fit, was proof of that. As was the constant gentle coaxing kisses the man placed upon his temples, eyelids, shoulders, the back of his hands, even in the curve of his knee as he bathed him so tenderly. It was found too in the kind, soothing reminders that Will had always been his, but Hannibal had wanted to make sure that he
was
Will's.
"If you love something, gražuolė, you must let it go. It will return in this life, or the next, if it was destined to be," he explained one quiet morning, lulled by bird-song, dappled light and the warmth of Will beside him.
"And I returned to you," Will finished, licking thick, blood-wine sauce as it dripped down his fingers from where he'd been swirling them in Hannibal's cooking pot, inching closer as he did.
"You returned to me," Hannibal agreed, one chaste kiss on his lips. "As I so dearly hoped you would," he added, finally pulling him flush before devouring his mouth and tugging on his cock until Will painted the kitchen worktop in stripes of white.
Learning love, living with love, was a new lesson, but his old teacher taught with vigour and Will was giddy with it all. He revelled in Hannibal's soft side - the caring monster that wrapped him in well-worn jumpers and blankets, who carried him to bed, who washed his hair. He crooned at the thoughtfulness - how the man catered to his needs, allowing sugar-laden sweet treats wrapped in garish packaging because he knew Will enjoyed them, while quietly constructing of a kennel in the bowels of his garden. "It's awfully unreasonable, this commute of ours," he offered as the only explanation. Will thrived on it all and was, in every-sense of the word, love-drunk.
Jack had still remained visibly absent from Will's life and the man was grateful for the lull so he could thoroughly enjoy his time with Hannibal. But the distance made tracking the investigation much more difficult. He'd been forced to turn to speculation and, much to Hannibal's amusement, Tattlecrime, for more regular updates. If rumour, Freddie Lounds and three random texts from one Beverley Katz, were right, then Chilton was all but behind bars. No bail, kept in solitary and even whispers of "I always suspected..."
were beginning to float through the halls of the FBI. Everything was falling into place, it seemed, and not even the notion of waiting for the other shoe to drop could keep his excitement in check. They both seemed to be free and clear.The final nail in the coffin had been Miriam, he'd heard.Poor, unfortunate Miriam, who had been so desperate to reclaim her identity and her independence, but still too tortured by her captor to know how, had pulled a semiautomatic from an agent's holster and put five bullets through a one-way mirror. Had Chilton not taken that precise moment to sneeze, they'd have been scraping his brains off the wall. Instead, he took one through the shoulder, and much to Will's amusement, another through his cheek. It had left his bone as gravel beneath his flesh and half his teeth were blown out with the impact. He was an ugly, gummy thing now, apparently, and Will knew that such knowledge would sting the preening peacock that had pawed after him more than anything.Hannibal had been smug, too.
"Poor Frederick," he'd crooned, a hand splayed over Will's stomach as they lay atop of one another, naked and lazy, watching the news cycle through its headlines. "Such a waste of flesh. It might have been more entertaining to make him slice up his own face rather than let dear Miriam ruin it for him."
"You love it," Will murmured in reply, bare back to Hannibal's bare chest, thighs and groin wrapped in nothing more than sweat and a bedsheet. "You enjoyed framing him. You enjoy knowing that a man so in love with his looks has lost them so violently... at your hand," a pause, "by your design."The Count hummed. "A man should not be so rude as to court another's lover," he replied, pressing a tender kiss to Will's temple.
"I don't think awkwardly lusting after me is courting Han," the profiler snorted."Close enough," he breathed, much to Will's amusement.
"Possessive.""I prefer to classify myself as
territorial," he corrected, hooking a foot over Will's knee and dragging the younger man's legs apart, handing tracking over miles of smooth skin marred with bite marks and bruises.
"Bastard," Will groaned but the grin in his voice was hardly convincing as he gave himself over to touch and sensation.
It was a day or two after Chilton had been released from the hospital, face clumsily patched together again, and back into the care of the Institute where he'd worked, that Jack appeared on Hannibal's doorstep.Hannibal was absent, having been called away on an emergency appointment - a suicidal patient who, for once, hadn't been pushed there by Hannibal himself.His lover had been a little despondent at the call.They'd spent the morning in the playroom, Hannibal bending the profiler to his will, denying him any release and grinning as he writhed. The European had snarled as he'd unlocked the handcuffs and unwound the rope from Will's form, clearly wanting to leave the younger man bound but not sure how long he'd be. Instead, he'd bitten deep into the skin at his wrists, hips and thighs, rutting mindlessly at the sight of the marks left behind until he came on Will's chest. Will, still tightly caged and strung out from the thorough fingering he'd received, had done little to stop the onslaught, letting the monster burst his blood vessels over and over until his skin was mottled in black.
Will was still wet from his shower, cage in place and stretched around a simple plug - "We wouldn't want all that hard work to waste now, would we darling?" - when he answered the door, convinced it was the Thai takeout he'd ordered twenty minutes previously. His hasty dress and sensitivity meant he hadn't bothered to cover the vast array of bruises on his body which began at his neck and ended considerably further south. The fingerprint shaped marks on his hips, around his wrists and even some barely visible around his neck that had already all but faded from view, screamed violence, while the raised bite marks only added to the horror show. It was, however,
the black eye that probably made the worst impression.It had been a chase gone wrong. Will, drunk on endorphins and adrenaline, had led his monster in a merry pursuit, laughing as Hannibal hissed and failed to catch him. In his haste, the profiler had slipped and gone face first into the staircase, blackness clouding his vision in an instant. He'd awoken to Hannibal, clad in nothing more than skin and a concerned expression, checking him over, gentle and hesitant. Will snarled, flipped him and rode him hard and fast there on the floor of the hall, before later allowing the man to check for bumps or concussion. "What to do with you, darling one?" his monster had mused, shining a light in his eyes as though they were in a doctor's office, not covered in bodily fluids three feet from their kitchen.Will himself felt no shame in the red-purple-black that painted his skin - they were marks he'd been given by his lover and only mirrored marks he'd given in return - but the teacher he wore did. The professor who taught others to think like killers would have been embarrassed and reluctant to share that side of him. He'd want to avoid questions and would be oh-so-defensive about it all, eventually becoming angry as his loyalty demanded he
defend but his mind urged for privacy.
So, when Jack's gaze widened in horror, Will blushed darkly and fumbled for a jumper, pulling it over his head to cover as many welts as he could, only realising a moment later it was Hannibal's."How can I help you Jack?" he asked, as firm as he dared while still playing the profiler scared and concerned for his lover.
Jack took a moment. "Your face," he said, words
heavy with meaning."I fell," Will replied."You fell?" Jack replied, incredulous, eyebrows reaching up into his hairline.
Will bristled a little. "Can I help you Jack?"
"Can I come in?""Hannibal's not here," Will replied, defensive, hiding a little behind the door now.
Jack softened, although by his expression it took effort. "Can I please come in Will?" he asked.
Will let him, leading him through into the kitchen and pouring him a glass of sparkling water. He was halfway through pouring his own when the door went again. He collected his food, thanked and tipped the delivery driver before unboxing it and placing it in the warmth of the oven.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," Jack began. Will only shrugged, sitting on one of the island stools, shifting a little uncomfortably when the plug pressed against his prostate."How are you Jack?" Will started, taking a moment to really look at his boss. The man looked tired. Long nights and longer days, it seemed.
"Busy," Jack replied honestly. "The Ripper's been occupying all our time.""I can imagine," he hummed, shifting again and trying to ignore the warmth pooling in his abdomen. "I heard Lass shot him," he added, "Chilton.""Yeah," the older man said, something unreadable in his tone. "Yeah she's struggling," he confessed, "but Miriam is as tough as they come.""She'd have to be," Will agreed, "to be Chilton's prisoner all this time.""The Ripper certainly did a number on her." A pause. "How are you Will?"Will let himself offer a small smile. "We're okay," he said. "Just taking one day at a time. Enjoying being
away
from it all." He huffed out a laugh. "There's no Freddie Lounds here, which is a perk. And not looking at dead bodies has been nice. Hannibal says it must be doing my mental health wonders." Will didn't need to add that such a comment had been made with possibly the most sarcastic tone his monster could conjure."And Hannibal?" Jack pried.
"He's seeing patients again," Will hummed. "Semi-regularly. We're trying to keep our lives going on as normal but he insisted on referring a lot of his clients to other psychiatrists. He's kept his oldest patients and his least intensive ones so he's spending less time at the office," he added.
"He's at home more then," Jack continued and Will
saw
what he was doing.Jack was
fishing.Clever interrogation, just unfortunate that Will knew every trick in the book, not to mention he'd already had the forewarning from his lover.
"Yeah," he nodded, playing along. "We still have our time apart but since everything..." he trailed off, looking every inch the concerned partner. "I didn't want him changing his life for me, but he has. He says it's no problem at all, that looking after me, making sure we're safe is more important, but..." He shrugged, a little sheepish, but letting his happiness at being so intertwined with Hannibal bleed through."And everything's alright?" Jack echoed.Will frowned, plastering the
I'm-not-sure-what-your-asking-here-Jack. "Of course."Jack heaved in a breath, glancing skywards for a moment as though praying for strength. "Will," he began slowly, like he was afraid of spooking a horse. "Is Hannibal hurting you?"Even though he knew what was coming, even though he saw the moment Jack made the assumption, even though Hannibal had made the off-hand comment days ago about them questioning the consenting nature of their relationship, hearing the question still turned his blood cold and caused a fury erupted in his core. He wouldn't even have to pretend to be mad, he realised."No." Will snapped, jaw clenched.
"Will," Jack placated, holding up his hands. "That's a
handprint on your neck, and your eye -""No.""I can
help, Will. It would - we've
heard
things -""Heard things?" Will hissed, rage spilling out and turning his pupils black.Jack steeled himself. "Hannibal Lecter might not be who we think he is," he said. "This -" he gestured to Will, "this
violence wouldn't be too far and -""He's not
hurting me, Jack."
"Will," the other man roared, "there are
bite marks on your skin.""Get out," Will spat, pushing the chair back and standing. "Out," he said again.Jack was still speaking, still shaping words, but Will could hear nothing other than war-drums in his ears and a torrent of blood. The profiler marched him to the door.
"Will,
listen," Jack implored again, "I can help.""I don't need your help.""If Hannibal's -""Hannibal
loves
me, Jack," Will spat, "and I him. Our relationship isn't anything to do with prosecuting the Ripper.""This isn't
love," Jack snarled, suddenly reaching forward and wrenching the jumper up, exposing a spread of mottled bruises that, under any other circumstance, would scream for help. Jack stuttered to a halt, eyes wide and desperate. "Oh my God, what's he done
to you," he breathed.Will didn't reply, instead, he only opened the door and promptly shoved Jack through it.
It took him more than a few minutes to calm down.
He knew it was illogical to feel so hurt. He was expecting it, he'd been
warned
about it and Hannibal was right, his person suit would appear to be ill-suited to those sexual proclivities. Not to mention that the inevitable investigation following Jack's 'discovery' would quickly rule them out as Ripper suspects, instead affirming them as partners whose consensual evening activities were too closely looked at by the FBI. It would avoid the dancing around, the missteps, the waiting, the
games.
It was cleaner this way, Will knew. Also, if he took a moment, he might be proud that Jack was looking for those signs, and prepared to do something to help and protect when he saw them, but it was the thought of Hannibal hurting him -
Hannibal would never hurt him - at least no more than he'd ask for. It stung too because even if they knew, or at least suspected, Hannibal was the Ripper, sexual violence didn't track. It was a break from the profile. In short, it didn't
fit.
He ate his food angrily, still smarting, barely able to consider what Jack had let slip - we've heard things - and by the time Hannibal returned he was buried face first in the couch, glaring at the television like it had personally offended him.
"You seem tense," Hannibal began, somewhat amused, taking a seat beside Will's legs.
"Jack came to see me," Will bit out.
Hannibal smiled. "Ah, so Chilton's been crying wolf.""That got barely
half a mention," he conceded. "The Evil Overlord didn't get as far as he'd like in questioning me," he said, peaking up from underneath the cushions. "It's safe to say he got sidetracked."The curious look in Hannibal's eyes faded after a moment. "Ah." It was a different sound now as he reached forward and pressed soft fingers to the black bruise eclipsing half his face.
"Didn't like it when I told him I fell, either," he added. "We'll be visited soon." Hannibal only hummed in reply, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of Will's head. Will barrelled on. "Fuck it made me mad.""Truely?""That you could do that to me, hurt me,
unwillingly.""I am, as you so regularly like to point out, a monster. I regularly inflict violence and cruelty and pain upon the pigs I butcher."Will snarled, pushing back against Hannibal and bracing when they went tumbling off the couch. "Not like that.
Never
like that. And not with
me.
Not -" he heaved in a breath. "If I asked you to stop," he said, settling in Hannibal's lap, "you'd stop.""Instantly," the Count promised.
"And if I told you I
hurt...""Darling, yes, I would tend to you in an instant." Hannibal crooned, hands soothing as they ran over Will's skin before he hesitated. "I did mention -""I know," he spat. "But your darkness is mesmerising and they call it evil. Your love is eternal and they call it abuse. How can they be so blind?" he hissed."There aren't many who love like us," Hannibal murmured. "Many believe that people cannot love, truly, deeply
love, like that.""Heathens."Hannibal huffed a laugh. "Violence is not seen as an art form by most, my darling. Many would call our branding of one another abusive, excessive, abhorrent...even cruel. They would not struggle to think I would force myself upon you after seeing your skin. For them, this is not evidence of your consent, but proof of my transgression, of your resistance.""I don't care. You aren't like that. You would never
force
me. That's -" he cut himself off, seething, nails digging deep into his arms as though trying to draw blood beneath the shirt he wore. "I like wearing your mark. I feel
possessed." Will looked up, meeting Hannibal's eyes. "I like you wearing my mark, I like knowing people can see that you're mine. That I can bruise and bite and you let me because you trust me and want me and... You -""I enjoy wearing your mark, Little One," Hannibal replied without hesitation. "And I definitely enjoy you wearing mine," a pause, "for as long as you enjoy it too."Will smiled, hands coming to rest either side of his monster's face, pulling him down into a deep and lingering kiss. His hips rolled of their own accord, thin sweats doing little to prevent his cage from catching on the older man's waistcoat. Unsurprisingly, it took only moments before Hannibal was eager and ready beneath him. The Doctor smiled against his lips and slipped a hand into the back of his pants, twisting the plug still nestled there. Will let him play content to urge the cock beginning to strain at his suit trousers to full hardness."Will you make love to me?" Will breathed as he pulled away, a trail of saliva visibly connecting their lips.
"William," Hannibal groaned, breath short and staccato now. He leaned back just enough to free himself as Will tugged his sweats down until they pooled mid thigh. "You are a beauty unparalleled," he breathed, easing the plug free, swallowing Will's whimpers and lining them up.It was a little too dry, the lube having long turned tacky, but the stretch was magnificent. Will felt himself part around the weeping, red fleshy head of the European's cock as it parted his rim and began to inch inside. The dragging sensation continued as he burrowed deeper and deeper until Will felt the coarse pubic hair that framed Hannibal's cock brush up against his ass.
"Yes, there," Will moaned, fingers tangling in Hannibal's hair as he began to shift his hips in small circles, panting desperately.
"Perfect," the older man cursed in reply, setting up and awkward rolling rhythm that took a considerable amount to effort given Will's place in his lap, all but pinning him to the ground without proper leverage.
"You're perfect. So hot. So heavy inside me." The skin of his abdomen was pulled taught and Will could see the outline of Hannibal's cock moving inside him when he glanced down. A hand came to rest there and he pushed hard, pulling a mewling sound from his own throat and a growl from Hannibal's. "Fuck me raw. Mark me," Will begged, tempo never inching above lazy. "Mark me where they'll never see, but where we'll know."
Hannibal groaned, deep, and set his teeth against the younger man's neck. "The cage," he murmured.
"Doesn't matter," Will breathed, hips rotating and grinding. "Want to be full of you," he crooned. "Want it to stain my thighs." A breathy inhale. "You can sate me later.""Will -""Please, let me - let me have this. Let me wear your love. Let me be full of your mark.""Greedy, gluttonous boy," Hannibal hummed against his skin. "I'll fill you." He rocked as deeply as he could, hips pushing up off the floor as much as their position allowed. "You'll smell of me, you'll bloat from me."One thrust,
two, a
third.
Then a low, long, broken growl and the feel of warm, slick seed stuttering inside him.
"I love you," Will breathed, heady, full and desperate. "Nothing
they
say will change that.""And I love you," Hannibal purred, eyes fixed on the leaking stream of white wetting Will's navel and the front of the European's waistcoat. "Messy boy," he smiled.
"You like me like that," he replied as the older man softened inside him. "When Jack returns -"."We'll be ready," Hannibal murmured, pressing a kiss to his throat. "I'll have all your favourite toys all lined up. There will be no doubt as the origin of marks on your skin.""Don't tease, monster."A laugh, a kiss, then: "I never tease, mylimasis."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The sound of splintering wood woke them.
It was early - a nondescript Tuesday morning - and the sun was barely awake. Her fingers tentatively pushed aside the curtains as she roused them from their places splayed across one another.Both were plagued by aches, their muscles complaining at a little too much use, and therefore content to linger in half-sleep under high thread count sheets.Their playroom was already hip deep in use and fluids, walls stained with half-bitten off moans and cries, high and breathy and wanton, unabashed in their desperation. The toys had already been divided into favourites and punishments and favourite punishments. Hannibal had found himself herding his lover there whenever he felt he could. A spare hour between phone appointments to wrap Will in silks and corsets? A brief visit before disappearing off to the farmer's market, leaving his profiler tied up and begging
for something more than silicone? A moment while dinner roasted beneath banana leaves and rosemary to spank Will with a paddle until his skin was flushed cherry red and bruised oh so tastefully? Vibrating anal beads to entertain them both as they lounged in the bath after a long, slow day? Hannibal revealed in the opportunity, and the options......and Will relished it too. He enjoyed the sex as ardently as he always had done, and the tender after-care that followed - scenes that could have walked straight out of a domestic, romance movie as he was pampered and petted and soothed.
Will had been curled up on Hannibal's chest, body rising and falling with every breath the Lithuanian took, hair tussled and falling across his face. His fingers had tangled in body hair, fingers splayed wide, and his legs had wedged themselves between the European's own. Cold toes, Will had muttered the night prior, snuggling closer, a tired smile on his lips before his muscles relaxed completely, leaving him little more than a languid puddle. His monster had offered only an initial hiss of surprise and then a huff of forced annoyance as the freezing skin inched its way between his shins, but ultimately allowed the contact. In fact, he’d wound his arms around Will’s waist, pulled him flush and muttered something in Lithuanian that sounded remarkably sweet in his bleary tone, already falling into Hypnos' arms. Will had grinned into the European's skin, settling down for the evening.A loud and sudden crash ripped through their domestic peace - a klaxon, a bullet, a sharp and stark emergence into reality.Will jerked upright, covers tangling around his lower limbs as he lunged for the side table, scrabbling to find his gun, his left hand still thrown out, guarding his lover -"Shit," he hissed as his fingers met air. His brain supplied an image of Hannibal's safe, downstairs, in the office, behind a copy of that dreadful Blake painting, "the number of the beast is 666" that he found humorous. (Hannibal and his
goddamn
puns.) Will glanced left, meeting wide, open maroon eyes that, while clearly startled, had quickly settled into murderous.
Their invaders wouldn't be receiving a warm welcome.
"Will," Hannibal managed, reaching out, before the door to their bedroom was kicked open and off its hinges, several armed men storming in, immediately barking orders and raising weapons that wouldn't be out of place mounted onto a helicopter.The sight of law enforcement should have panicked the pair more, but a sense of something like relief washed over them both and the growing tension in their shoulders eased a little.It was Jack. Only Jack. And Jack was a threat that they'd prepared for.They had a plan.
The officers were shouting, loud, undistinguishable and over-lapping, making no clear sense and sending Will closer to Hannibal, eager to be nearer to his lover. "I'm FBI," he started yelling back. "Special Agent Will Graham," he added. "I'm FBI." He let his voice climb, fingers on his raised hand splayed wide, ignoring the split knuckles and the clear and obvious bruising around his wrists.
"Really Han, handcuffs? You know I can get out of these right?"
"Won't you indulge me for a moment, my darling?"
"I'm always indulging you."
There was half a moment of hesitation, then one of the man hefted his gun and struck Hannibal cleanly in the face. His lip burst and something crossed between a grunt and a hiss was spat between the European's teeth, along with a glob of thick, red blood that spread far on their white bed sheets."No," Will screamed, lunging forward, only to be dragged backwards, out of bed and onto the floor with a clatter by a man who had ran around to his side of the room. He heard a thud and saw Hannibal, on the floor now too, as he tried to rise. "STOP!" Will yelled again when the weapon was raised once more and brought down hard on the back of Hannibal's head. He slumped into the floorboards, fingernails scratching against the wood and a groan of pain spilt from his lips. Will found himself shouting, trying to vault over the bed, or crawl underneath it, to reach his lover, but the brute dressed in body armour and black held him back, pinning him to the floor with a knee and the barrel of his gun.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?" A new voice roared, striding into his bedroom with something akin to authority. Will didn't need to look up to know it was Jack. "Enough!" he added, making half a dozen gestures in quick succession. "Cuff him and put him downstairs.""Jack?" Will shouted, forcing as much shock and horror into his tone as he could manage as he shoved the now weakened force on his back and pushed up onto his knees. "Jack, wh- what is this? What's goin -" he broke off at the aggressive manner in which one of the officers dragged Hannibal up, ignoring the blood slicking the back of his neck and the grimace of pain on his features. "Hey, stop,
you're
hurting him." Will scrambled to his feet, shoving off an offending arm intent on keeping him back.
"Will -" Jack began, taking a step forward, palms facing him and fingers splayed. "Wait."His eyes were raking their way over Will's body then - his bare chest and bare legs, skipping over the unflattering old cotton boxer shorts he'd worn as quickly as he could - tracking the faded bruises that wrapped around his hips and the bite marks deep into the skin beside his nipples. The damage was considerably less than when he'd previously been over, but still fed into Jack's delusion of abuse. "You're safe now," he offered, voice pitched low. "Alright, you're safe.""Wait? Safe? What are you talking about? Is this you? What -" Will spat, disbelieving, real concern growing in his chest as his lover was shoved forward, clearly unsteady on his feet and most definitely concussed to some degree."Will," Jack began. "Wait a second - it's alright, okay?"Will ignored him, shoving at the nearest body and trying to move through.
"WILL," Jack tried again, cheeks turning ruddy. "Stop. It's okay. Just wait.""Wait?" he hissed, ignoring the growing anger on Jack's face. "They're hurting Hannibal.""And Hannibal's HURTING YOU," Jack shouted back, clearly off-kilter, having no doubt expected a grateful Will rather than a defiant one.Will reeled back, letting his features bleed anger and horror and concern and just a little fear. He knew, even without looking, that Hannibal's face mirrored his own.
"Never," the Count breathed from his side of the room. "I would never
-""No," Will said at the same time, making his voice quiet and calm. "I told you before. He's not. He wouldn't ever -"Jack snarled, cutting him off. "Just because you're delusional, doesn't mean I am," he shouted, jabbing a finger in the European's direction. "He's a fucking monster, Will." He straightened. "And I'm going to prove it.""You can't do this!" Will shouted, shoulder barging the nearest officer attempting to restrain him."This is considerably illegal, Jack," Hannibal added.The older profiler stiffened. "I have a warrant," he ground out.
"On what grounds!" Will shouted. "What grounds, Jack?""LOOK AT YOU WILL," Jack roared. "LOOK AT YOU.""It's not like that, Jack," Hannibal began, tone earnest with an undercurrent of being
pissed.
"It's not -""ENOUGH!" Jack spat, jerking his head towards the officer, who then all but dragged Hannibal from the bedroom and down the stairs, Will hollering after them, trying to get around the agents blocking his path.He paused long enough to hear a surprised gasp and exclamation of Hannibal's name which told Will that Beverly was present even before she entered the room. Her gaze was flooded with pity and disbelieving horror at the sight of him, clearly buying into Jack's assumptions."Katz," Jack said, waiting for
something."We're all set," she replied after a moment.
Jack nodded. "Go on then." He looked back at Will. "Get dressed," he ordered, before turning to the officer. "Put him downstairs."Will went to protest again but was pushed in the direction of their wardrobe before he could. He grabbed the warmest of Hannibal's comfortable jumpers as well as an extra t-shirt for his European before he was escorted out, past Jack and Beverly, through his own house to the living room.He could hear people clattering around in several of their rooms, possessions being overturned and doors carelessly banging off walls, chipping paint and damaging plaster board. A tendril of rage began to uncurl in his stomach.
This was their
house.
Their
home.The only thing that prevented him from truly raging - from storming from room to room,
decimating
Jack's band of merry men - was the knowledge that this had to happen. That once Jack cleared them both, once the
reason behind his marks was revealed, Will and Hannibal could not only draw a thick and definitive line underneath the Ripper
and
the FBI, but also strong-arm them into a settlement that would make sure they'd never bother either of them again.
"They'd be less eager to accuse us of anything, my darling one, if there is a history of making wild, unfounded and offensive accusations".
"We need something on paper, then. Proof that they've gone too far, that they've harassed us in the past.""I'm sure Jack can assist us with that, my love. He will believe his assumptions to be correct, however his misinterpretation
will provide all the ammunition we need to keep the FBI off our trail and more than happy to see the back of us. They'll be so fearful of us making their discrimination, their violation, public, that they' might very well fill our bank accounts, pack our bags and drive us to the airport themselves."It was a good plan - in theory - but Will was already struggling with the execution of it.Hannibal had been cuffed and unceremoniously dumped on their living room rug and immediately Will was moving to his side, ignoring the protests from the officers around him. His monster was still bleeding and something uneasy wrestled inside him.
"It's a superficial wound, my love," Hannibal murmured, sensing the concern brimming beneath the surface. Will had never been very good at seeing wounds on Hannibal that he hadn't inflicted.
"You're concussed," Will shot back, letting anger bleed through.
"Step away," one of the officer's barked, raising his gun once more.Will turned on him with a growl, releasing some of his stewing rage. "Touch either of us, you fucking bastard, and I'll sue you for everything you have and I'll not stop until you don't even have a fucking bucket to piss in." The man hesitated for a second. "And don't think I won't. Don't think we
won't. Look around you. You think we don't have a fucking
brilliant
lawyer." Will laughed, harsh and hard. "Do you?"The two towering over them shared a glance, both not sure enough of the situation to risk it. It seemed not all of those present had completely bought into the scenario Jack had painted. "No touching," he snarled instead.
"Fuck you," Will spat back, curling closer to Hannibal and tentatively pressing his hand to the wound still oozing unpleasantly. "You cold?" he asked softly, trying to drape Hannibal's t-shirt over his shoulders.
"I'm alright mylimasis."There was a moment filled with a long, heavy pause. Then:"This is my fault," Will breathed, before hesitating, pretending to be conscious of their audience. "All of it. This. Jack, thinking you're hurting me. Him - I don't know why he's doing this, why he doesn't
believe me, believe
us -" They were broken off by the sound of china smashing. Hannibal tensed and even Will, as wrapped up in his all-bark-no-bite profiler, couldn't help the snarl that threatened to fall from his lips.
"Gražuolė," Hannibal murmured and, sensing a slip in his lover's persona, reached forward, awkwardly pressing a kiss to his temple. "This isn't your fault. Never. Jack has been terribly presumptuous and unforgivably rude, invading our house - our home - it's true, but you, you are nothing short of perfection, mylimasis." Another kiss. "This isn't your fault."Will ducked his head, hiding the smile and the warm feeling at Hannibal's honey slick words. He peaked up from beneath the curtain of hair that had fallen over his eyes, pretending not to see the blatant curiosity on their guards' faces. "But if I hadn't - if," he dropped his voice, making the outsiders strain to hear, "if I hadn't asked.""Darling," Hannibal replied all firm edges and instance, joining in his merry dance in an instant. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. Especially here. This is Jack's fault, most definitely. Never yours."
The guards looked confused but Will let himself nod and edge closer, until he could tuck his head underneath Hannibal's chin.
It only took a handful more minutes of baseline noise before a shout went up from the kitchen. It seemed they'd discovered the renovated, former murder basement. Heavy footsteps on their staircase and louder voices and then the scraping of metal.Will only prayed they didn't mark the floor or knock over Hannibal's spice rack.Jack was shouting orders, demanding samples and for his minions to "Look for blood evidence."
Will wasn't worried, his monster was nothing if not thorough. Instead he frowned, letting pure confusion bleed onto his features.
"What the fuck is Jack doing in the wine cellar?" he muttered, leaning forward a little.
"I don't know my darling," Hannibal replied, pulling on a mask of bewilderment which, with the faint edges of concussion, made him look nothing short of adorable.Another loud clatter."Is he going through our freezers?" Will glanced over to the guards, as though remembering they were there. "What the fuck are you looking for?""Evidence," one ground out.
"Of
what? It's a fucking
cellar."
"Jack always did take things far too literally," Hannibal mused after a moment, as though to himself. Will glanced at him. The comment was too low to be heard by the guards. "Dungeon," he whispered, dead-pan. The profiler couldn't react in time and spluttered out a laugh.
"You and your fucking puns -" Will huffed under his breath, ignoring the amused hum and settling once more against the older man.There were several loud clatters that set the pair's teeth on edge, until a loud stomping sound saw Jack barging into the living room.
"Where are they?" he snapped.
"They?" Hannibal asked, not having to feign confusion."The trophies," Jack returned.
Hannibal startled. "Uh, in the dining room cabinet," he replied, tone suggesting he didn't have a
clue what Jack was talking about. The profiler himself looked startled that Hannibal had been so forthcoming before grinning and marching off. A minute later, a roar of anger and Jack was back, hand clutched tightly around a tall, glass shaped object. Will could just make out "...Prize for Academic Excellence"
scrawled across the plaque on the base.Will bit back a laugh."What. IS.
THIS?" Jack hissed.
Hannibal frowned. "My trophies. Although I much prefer to call them awards. Trophies sounds terribly pretentious..." he trailed off, projecting uncertainty and glancing to Will as though for reassurance.The man's face flickered through half a dozen emotions before he turned a flung the statue across the room. Will watched it sail through the air before cracking sharply against the wall and shattering into pieces.
"What the hell are you doing Jack?" he shouted. "Leave us
alone!"
"Destruction of property is -" Hannibal didn't finished, because Jack had struck out at him. Will cried out, curling tighter against the European and kicking out when Jack tried to drag him clear.
"Listen here Lecter," he spat, letting Will go and rounding on the bleeding man. "I know who you are. It was neat, with Chilton, but I know who you are,
what
you are." He paused. "You're the Ripper."There was a long moment before Will spoke. He wanted to gather his anger but also project as much fear and caution that one might do when approaching someone
unstable. "Jack," he began. "You're wrong, Jack. Hannibal isn't the Ripper. We caught the Ripper, do you remember? It's Chilton -""Frederick Chilton is
not
the -""He IS!" Will yelled. "And I told you this would happen. I told you they'd be evidence, or dates that didn't match, that pointed you in another direction and you
promised me
you'd help, you'd find it and lock him up and -""I did, Will," Jack bit out. "I found evidence. I found that Chilton's claims about Hannibal
made sense." A pause. "He fits the profile.""So do a lot of people," Will hissed. "But only
one
of them is the Ripper.""He's manipulating you Will.""No. He's not.""He's hurting you.""No," Will echoed. "He's
not." He drew in a long breath. "You need help, Jack. You're chasing shadows. You're seeing ghosts where there aren't any.""Will -""I'm not saying another word to you without a lawyer, Jack," Will said, holding himself back from blinking so tears would pool in the corner of his eyes. "I don't want this - you need
help -
but this is our home and Hannibal is my
partner," he continued, tears falling freely now. "And this is
wrong. And I'm not going to let you hurt Hannibal, or accuse him of something he hasn't done, or give weight to
lies. Now, I want a phone call. We need to call our lawyer and find out where to go from here."Jack reeled back, stunned. "You're
lawyering up?!"
"Yes," Will said. A pause, a quick glance with Hannibal, his face openly worried for him but, beneath
preening
at the display. "We both are." He looked back at Jack. "You've given us no choice.""Will -" Jack began.
"No," he shot back, voice turning hard. "You need to let us go. You need to un-cuff my partner, leave our house and give us the time to make the necessary phone calls, or you need to formally arrest us, both of us, in which case, we want our phone call."Jack's expression was comical - desperately so - and it took every second of experience Will had earned to maintain his cover and keep himself in check. He could tell Hannibal was also struggling, despite having considerably more practice at lying about being a serial killer than Will had."Il mostro?""It was some of my earlier work."
"But still, il mostro? Il mostro followed by The Ripper."
A sigh. "I have been most unfortunate with press names, I know."
After a moment, he straightened and nodded once. "Doctor Hannibal Lecter, I'm -"He was cut off as Beverley Katz came barrelling into the room, eyes wide and averting her gaze to anywhere other than Will or Hannibal. "Katz," Jack began, clearly annoyed.
"I think we may have misjudged this situation," she hissed, blushing now, voice pitched low enough to indicate she wanted only Jack to her, but loud enough for the pair to snag in the dead silence of the room.Will let his face bleed out its colour and jerked violently backwards, immediately sinking into Hannibal, projecting a combination of fear-embarrassment-anger-shame
that he knew would be obvious to anyone with eyes. He pushed a sense of desperation onto his features too, portraying every inch the man who had just realised the full extent of the search and what that search had discovered.Hannibal, by contrast, grew into the space Will had vacated. He embraced rage, attempting as much as he could to shield Will from prying eyes, even with his hands pinned behind his back and half dressed. It was, to anyone in the know, the look of a man furious at the invasion of his home and at his lover's wants and desires being so publicly exposed in a space supposed to be safe and free from judgement.And judging by the
guilt that bled into Beverly's features, she knew the gravity of what was happening around her. With the sheer number of people in the house - their house - knowledge of Hannibal and Will's bedroom habits wasn't going to remain there. One homophobic ass with a light bank account and a twisted sense of humour and Freddie Lounds would plaster pictures of their playroom across the web, garish font spitting something crude like criminally insane profiler who locks up killers spends most of his time in chains.
Like a creature like Freddie could possibly sum up their love in something pithy and pointed.It would spread though. To the halls of his classroom, the authority in the Bureau, the families he might interview. In short, it would ruin him.
It shouldn't have.
But it would.
If Will weren't already fully committed to the cause, to letting Hannibal have him and to have Hannibal in return, he'd have been angry. But life was full of compromise. Hannibal was giving up the Ripper and letting a feeble minded sycophant take credit for his art. Will could let the socially awkward profiler he'd worn for a few years go too, if it came to that."Wha -?""We found a locked door," Jack's eyes lit up but Beverly was already shaking her head, "and the... the
contents would, uh, well, it'd explain some - some
things..." she trailed off.
There was a confused silence, broken by Hannibal who, with a cold but near-apoplectic tone said: "I'd make the request that you and your band of vandals not disturb or handle any of the items in there, Ms Katz, however as you've already kicked down our door, dragged Will and I from our bed, broken my china, rifled through our refrigerator and essentially held us hostage in our own home, I suppose that's too much to ask for."Beverly had the good decency to flush florescent red but Jack only tossed a glare over his shoulder and stormed upstairs, leaving two very curious guards, a furious-looking Hannibal, a mortified-looking Will and one thoroughly embarrassed Bev. "Uh," she started. "Shit, I - I'm so sorry, I just - Jack
told us and well, some, some stuff he said was convincing, I just
-" she broke off. "Shit, Will."Will made no reply, only squeezed his eyes closed, tightly, and turned away, attempting to further curl in on himself. "If you would release me Ms Katz," Hannibal bit out, allowing Will to push his face into his chest, as though he couldn't even look
at Bev. The woman nodded, pulling a set of keys and unlocking the European. As soon as he had use of his hands, he pulled Will into an all encompassing hug. "It's alright darling," he hummed into Will's hair, gently, before turning back to Bev. "Please pass me the phone, Ms Katz," he said and once again she complied. Will felt a great surge of pride at Hannibal's plan, then. He'd failed to comprehend how
guilt might come into play or, as Hannibal predicted, might work in their favour, but any lingering hesitation vanished at Bev's compliance.
Hannibal had dialled his lawyer's number and was waiting for the man to answer by the time Jack returned, looking particularly green. He was too preoccupied to notice the phone in the older man's hand, however when Hannibal began to speak, his eyes snapped up.
"Reginald, yes, hello, it's Hannibal Lecter. I'm afraid I require your assistance," he began, watching warily as Jack stormed over to him. "I've been unlawfully detained in my own residence while the FBI destroys my belongings and assaults both myself and my partner. If you could be so kind as -" he snarled as he was cut off, Jack tearing the phone away and hanging up swiftly. Hannibal would have lunged for it, but with one arm wrapped around Will, he refrained.
"What the hell have you been doing to him you sick fuck?" Jack snapped, eyes wide and blazing. Hannibal took a moment to admire just how far he'd pushed the man. His nostrils were flared and the vein in his temple throbbing. He looked like a man on the edge. A dog caught on a scent and so blinded by it he'd made himself sick in the chase. Miriam too had done more damage than he'd realised. She may have cemented Chilton as the Ripper, but she'd tormented Jack so beautifully. And here he was, reacting like the Ripper was trying to take another of his lost, little strays, right from under his nose.It was funny how right he was. Although, Hannibal thought, Will wasn't being stolen. His mylimasis was much too complex and mesmerising to allow that kind of passivity. No, what Jack had failed to grasp was that Will wasn't his to use, to protect, to fight for - he was his own and, on his own, he'd decided to be Hannibal's.
Hannibal set his jaw, staring down the man with a glare that would send weaker men running. "My
private relationship with William is, by its very definition, just that: private. I'll not disclose anything other than this: all that took place in that room occurred between two fully consenting adults whose relationship spans decades."
"You fuck- ""Jack," Bev interrupted, eyes wide. "You need to rethink this."
There was a moment, a flicker, where self-doubt rippled across Jack's features before it vanished and the stubborn, bull-headed profiler returned. "Finish collecting evidence, Katz," he ordered. "Blood, bone, whatever you can find.""Bone -" Hannibal spat, both hands tightening around Will who, for all those in the room, projected nothing other than the overwhelming need for the floor to swallow him whole. "Jack, the only bone in this house is in my fridge, still surrounded by
lamb."Jack smirked. "Don't worry Lecter, we've already got that for testing.""This is wrong Jack, and you know it," Hannibal replied, perfecting his role as the angry, innocent, protective partner, perfectly."No,
no, what's wrong is whatever twisted delusion you've ensnared Will in," Jack hissed.Something ugly reared its head in Will's chest at the words. He embraced it, acting every inch the cornered animal they would expect him to be, funnelling all his anger at Jack, at the situation, at everything, into his movements as he turned sharply, bared his teeth and snarled: "I'm
not crazy.
I'm not
bewitched
or
bewildered
or
delusional
or anything other than clear-goddamn-headed. I chose
Hannibal.
I chose him. That includes ev-every-," he sucked in a breath, like he
needed
it to get the words out, "everything in that room, Jack. I am
with
Hannibal. Like that. We always have been. Since I was twenty-one and didn't know what I wanted in life. I'm not a child led astray, I'm not a victim, I don't need to be saved. I'm
here because I want to be. So if you're going to charge Hannibal with this
lunacy
then don't you dare use me as your excuse, as your evidence," he spat the word like it was dirty, "because you'll be sorely fucking mistaken.""Will -""NO!" Will boomed. "Get out. Get out all of you. This is
bullshit," he continued, letting tears bead in his eyes. "I told you this would happen. I warned you, and look what you're doing, Jack. You're falling right into the Ripper's trap. He's
playing you." He sucked in a shaky breath. "Who pointed you in Hannibal's direction? Who?
Chilton. You think he's doing that
only
because Hannibal
might
fit
some
of the profile? No, he's doing it because he knows that you'll rush in. You'll look at me and see Miriam. That you'd think I was being manipulated. What would happen then Jack? You arrest Hannibal, you make it stick and then? Then I'm alone, I'm alone and Chilton walks free. And what's he free to do Jack? He's free to come and find me. To...to...to
take
me," he was sobbing now. "I told you he came onto me, at the Hospital, and you could see it too. You think all this, all this isn't another plan in motion? Two bird, one stone
and you're
helping him
Jack. You've chained up an innocent man in his own home, a man who happens to be the person I love. Me. You yourself said I might be the person the Ripper is courting -
you said that. Why does Hannibal need to court me?
We're together. I've known Hannibal for years." Another pause. "Chilton's done god-knows-what to the patients under his care, including managing to convince Gideon he's actually the Ripper; he fits the profile; he's shown an unhealthy infatuation bordering on obsession with me; and when he gets caught he points you in one direction and that happens to be my partner; and your conclusion from all of this is that Hannibal's the Ripper?"The silence was heavy. Heavy in a way no one really knew what to do with.
Tears were still tracking Will's face and Hannibal was rubbing smooth, big circles on his back with one hand and had intertwined their fingers with his other. Jack looked suitably off-kilter, as though he hadn't actually sat down and
thought
about it like that. He'd seen holes in the Chilton story -
of course he had
- and finally bothered to strip back Hannibal's person suit, revealing a glimpse of the predator beneath - as both Will and Hannibal had expected him to do.Surprisingly though it wasn't Jack who made the call, but Bev. She herself looked close to tears and after a few moments straightened her posture until it looked so tight it might snap and turned on her heel.
"Everybody," she yelled up the stairs. "We're moving,
now. Pack it up. Leave everything. All out the door, now."Jack looked horrified by that. "What are you doing?" he hissed as she directed the team out of the house.
Bev looked at him intensely. "The right thing," she replied, eyes flickering over to the couple still sat on their living room floor. "And to be honest Jack," she added, returning her attention to her boss, "the one thing that just might save your job." She placed her hand on Jack's arm. He was shaking just enough for her to be a little bit wary. "You made a mistake, Jack," she whispered, "and now is the time to try and make up for it."Jack sucked in a breath. "It's
him."Bev growled. "It's not.""Katz -""I think Will would know if Dr. Lecter were sneaking out to
murder
people, Jack," she snarled. "I'm all for being thorough, but this was too far." She looked over his shoulder, towards Hannibal and Will once more and caught their gazes. "I'm really sorry,
truly," she huffed out something small and sad. "I should have stopped this earlier. I am sorry, for all of this."
"Thank you Ms. Katz," Hannibal replied stiffly, accepting the small nod she gave as she turned and left, taking the two remaining officers with her.Jack stared at them. "I know what you are," he hissed."What you are is violating my cilents' rights," a man strode through the door. "Special Agent Jack Crawford, was it?" Reginald Van Doren began, grey hair and harsh features appearing intimidating despite being hastily dressed in a pair of walking trousers, an old knitted-style jumper and what, beneath, appeared to be his night shirt. Hannibal bit back a smile and silently added another zero to the man's tip. "As your colleague failed to provide it, I assume you have the warrant that was granted to search these premises?" he continued, holding out his hand expectantly.Jack had no answer. Instead, he levelled a withering glare at Hannibal before striding from the room. A moment later, the heavy sound of a slamming door echoed through the space.Will stood quickly, moving to the window to watch Jack and the last of the officers pull away. "They're gone," he informed the two men.
"What a horribly rude individual that Agent Crawford is," Reginald remarked, lip curling. "Are you both alright?" Will nodded in reply, instantly seeing why Hannibal liked
his lawyer. "Good. I brought my camera. We're going to document absolutely everything so the scale of destruction can be fully realised. I've already contacted Doctor Hemming, Doctor Lecter, to check yourself and your partner out to ensure you're both okay, and to have his word on paper, of course. A neutral party," he conceded, sensing the retort of Hannibal's own qualifications in medicine.
Reginald turned back to Will. "My apologies," he said, holding out a hand, "Reginald Van Doren.""Will Graham," he replied, shaking once before stepping back.
"Pleasure," Reginald nodded. "I assume you'll both wish to press charges.""Absolutely," Hannibal agreed. "Such a violation shouldn't go unpunished." He curled a hand around Will's waist and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. The profiler could feel the smile, the eager excitement, the amusement of a puppet-master watching his creations take form and dance around bleeding through every muscle.His monster wasn't exactly subtle... at least to him."Something tells me it won't," Will added, ignoring Reginald's comment to instead turn into Hannibal, head resting against his chest, the European's heartbeat strong beneath his ear and the now empty driveway filling his eye-line. Another kiss made its way into Will's curls and the blue-eyed man finally let himself grin. A manic, wild thing that stretched across his lips and cut his face in two, delirious with the win.
Because that had been a win.
A tremendous, game-changing win.
Hannibal squeezed him in closer, body trembling, and it didn't take Will long to realise it was with barely suppressed laughter.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A week since their playroom had been revealed in the most dramatic of fashions saw their lawsuit against Jack and the Bureau well underway.Hannibal's lawyer had taken their case with a rigour and enthusiasm that, while earning him an increasing amount of zeroes, seemed in line with his general demeanour and desire to earn his clients the best possible outcome.
"He's well worth the money, I assure you my darling,"
Hannibal had confided in him when all the photos had been taken and the house righted as well as it could be. Unfortunately, three bottles of wine, a dozen plates, two tea-cups and Hannibal's academic prize were all lost causes. Will's monster had suggested attempting to mend the cups with an old practice his aunt had once taught him -
kintsukuroi,
he'd called it.
"Do we need to?"
Will had asked.
Hannibal smiled softly, then.
"No, my love. It is only a cup."Will was personally thrilled that the initial plan to seek damages rather than just a formal apology had not only been embraced so enthusiastically by Reginald, but championed by the man himself. His distaste for Jack was another, poorly concealed feeling that only endeared him to the pair of killers.
"Such an unpleasant man," he'd muttered to himself more than once as he poured over legal arguments and constructed a case so watertight, Will was sure he could sink it to the sea floor and then fish it out, unaltered, a week later.Will himself was quite surprised to discover that he was more than happy to rub salt deeper into Jack's wounds. A twisted knife made ever deeper given just
what
was on the docket at the same time. Final charges had been laid against Chilton by Jack's superiors and, to make matters worse for the special agent, the Office of the Inspector General had gotten involved. A rather rigid woman by the name of Kade Prurnell had been sent forth, no doubt to assess and then mitigate the damage that the hunt for the Ripper had created. She'd been open-minded about their prospects, right up until she saw the meagre (albeit correct) evidence accumulated by Jack and his team against Hannibal. Her lips, Will had been told by Beverly via text, pursed so tightly they all but disappeared from her face.
In the end, their case never even made it to trial.
Reginald had laid forth his side, perhaps in more detail than was required, and a summary judgement was issued. In a way, Will shouldn't have been surprised, particularly when Judge Collins had begun to grasp the extent of the overstep and the weakness of the gathered evidence for the defence. His eyes had widened and his mouth opened slightly and, in the interest of remaining open-minded, had allowed the defence to call their witness: primary among them, one Dr. Frederick Chilton.It was clear Chilton hadn't planned on being in the same room as Hannibal and if his repetative swallowing was any indication, he didn't like it. Any movement rippled the Lass-made harsh, ugly scars across his taught, deformed skin - a distraction, no doubt, as he carefully set out what was, in essence, his legal defence for mass murder, mutilation, perverting the course of justice, desecration of a corpse and prevention of proper burial... amongst others.Judge Collins didn't take the "I didn't do it, he did it" argument very well."Agent Crawford, am I right in concluding that your claim as to Doctor Lecter's guilt lies squarely on the shoulder's of Doctor Chilton's statement. That all defence of malpractice by the Bureau, of subversion of procedure and proper protocol, relies upon the man you are currently charging with," he glanced down, "eighty-five separate counts including murder and desecration," he turned, pinning Jack in place, tone incredulous, "stating that Doctor Lecter is actually the so-called Chesapeake Ripper."This had been followed by a spectacular offensive by Reginald who, while painting a rather clear picture, kept his explanation of Will and Hannibal's relationship rather private allowing the pair themselves to decide how much they would reveal. The explanation by the former keeper of Baltimore's most deadly seemed even more ludicrous and desperate then.A man in a loving,
committed BDSM relationship were concepts that lay distinctly outside of the Ripper profile."The defence is suggesting that my clients' private relationship - which revolves around the relinquishing of control and relies on absolute trust between two individuals - is in line with the profile constructed by the Bureau and their more than qualified professionals? A profile, coincidentally, that one Dr Chilton contributed too. Such descriptors of the Ripper include: narcissist, loner and, in the words of a Dr Bloom, someone with 'a god complex who sees all those who surround him as lesser'." There was a disbelieving huff. "The Bureau's claims are inflammatory and slanderous. A far better explanation is that rather than admit they consulted with the Ripper himself on the Ripper case, they would attempt to besmirch an upstanding member of the Baltimore community with outdated views on relationship dynamics. Not a single aspect of any profile constructed on the Ripper included a permanent lover, nor a willingness to submit to someone else. Of course, we're overlooking the most important part of their accusations: that the Bureau are, by proxy, accusing their best and most effective profiler of either being unaware of his partner being the man-he's-been-hunting
or aiding and abetting him. I believe that Will Graham is capable of noticing if a serial killer was sharing his bed and given his unwavering dedication pursuing the most dangerous in society, decrying either his abilities or commitment to law enforcement is borderline sacrilegious."Reginald Van Doren was
fantastic.His brilliance was of course, assisted by Hannibal's statement half an hour later about willingly submitting to Will - given to a Judge
with a
straight face
with
detail."Your Honour," he had purred, unflappable in the face of invasive questions by the FBI lawyers, who prodded him with all sorts of inquiries that were, without doubt, rude. Questions that inferred things about him as a person, as a man, that set Will's teeth on edge. The Bureau was reading, it seemed, from a playbook from the 1940s. "I am beholden to my partner in all ways there are," he confessed, words shaped with precision - there would be no false meanings. "Will and I are not bound by the parameters of strength or masculinity society holds, nor are we ashamed of how we practice our love. We are only angry at the invasion of our home and the violation of a privacy written down in documents that had bound together this nation for centuries."And for a man who lied as easily as he breathed, Hannibal's statement had been the truth.
"I must insist on realism, mylimasis," he'd hummed against Will's skin, three days prior to their first appearance before the judge - things moved quickly when it was the FBI and an influential lawyer in the same docket. Anything, Reginald had told them, to hush it up quickly and move on before the press caught wind of what had happened."Realism?"Hannibal had huffed, eyes going dark. "Don't lie to me darling one,"
he cooed, "I know you've thought of it. Of possessing me so thoroughly.""You want me to fuck you,"
Will hissed, arousal pooling in his stomach at the thought. "You want to yield to me.""We are partners in all things, mylimasis," he'd crooned, "and having you inside me is something I have craved since our reunion. Unless you'd prefer not -""I want it,"
Will interrupted.It had been savage, claiming.
At first Will had considered the bed, but there was only one place he'd take his monster and that was the bench. Hannibal bent to him so willingly, moving at the slightest touch and folding himself over the bench that Will had dragged into the middle of the floor, with all his usual grace. Even naked at folded at the waist, hands and legs patiently waiting to be wrapped in butter soft leather, his European was as refined as ever.
Will wanted to
wreck
him.
He'd tightened the cuffs just on the side of too tight, enjoying the way they dug into Hannibal's skin and made straight intents across his wrists and ankles. The dark maroon pits of his eyes were gaping in their lust as Will stood and moved behind him, hand tracing his spine absentmindedly, the way an owner soothed a beloved pet. His hands smoothed over the globes of his ass and slipped between his cheeks, fingernails digging into the flesh sharply when he reached Hannibal's hole.Will let a long and heavy breath heave itself from his throat. "You're
wet," he growled, watching as crescent shaped welts begin to bloom beneath his grip.Hannibal had been unrepentant. "I ache for you, Little One,"
was his reply.
"What if I wanted to take you dry?"
the profiler had spat.The European had only laughed. "We have plenty of time, mylimasis," he replied, tone unflappable, but cock straining and drooling south, pulling by gravity and thick with blood."You arrogant fuck," Will snarled, pulling loose his belt and letting his trousers slip just enough to pool at his ass. He spread Hannibal's cheeks apart with a ferocity that finally pulled something akin to a whimper from the older man and spat, once, on the exposed, reddened furl there.
A shiver had rippled along Hannibal's spine, but before he'd been given an opportunity to respond, Will was feeding himself inside.Hannibal was tight and searing hot. He clamped down on Will the second the head breached him and the curly haired man couldn't help but let a low, pained groan spill from him. He wasn't nearly as wet as Will had been the evening prior, slick with lube and his own release, loose-limbed and blissed out when his monster crawled inside him, but he was wet enough to prevent the grip
of his inner walls feeling dry against Will's cock.
"I want to
hear," he'd demanded, steadily inched forward until the zipper of his slacks was pressed deep enough to turn the flesh on Hannibal's ass red. Hannibal only keened in reply. "I
said," Will snarled, snapping his hips back until the tip of his cock rested against the now blazing red rim, "I want to hear kalė." He thrust forward, plastering himself across bare skin until his lips hovered at Hannibal's ear. "If I wanted you quiet, I'd have gagged you."That was all it had taken.Hannibal's throat opened and began echoing moans as Will forced himself inside
again and again and again, skin slicking with sweat that stuck his shirt to his chest and to Hannibal's back. All sense of refinement vanished as the doctor whined and panted like a dog in the throws of heat, pushing backwards as forcefully as he could, being bound as he was, while Will rutted forward. He was strung out and desperate, a side to the predator Will hadn't seen in all its glory, not that the profiler had been much better. Even as he'd grinned at the noises he'd managed to punch out of his lover, he couldn't help but loose growls and grunts and pleases.
Hannibal came, untouched, with Will's name and Lithuanian endearments on his lips. Will, not far from his monster in many things, followed shortly behind, throwing his head back and
snarling
his release.Will couldn't help the deep sense of satisfaction when his monster had wobbled on unsteady legs after he had un-cuffed him. "Good?" he'd grinned, smug and uncaring of his wet cock lolling through unzipped trousers that hung on his hips. Hannibal had smirked, eyes black.
"Perfection, darling,"
he'd conceded, stroking the man's ego. "And well worth a repeat performance,"
he shifted, "although perhaps in a day or two.""Feeling the strain old man?"
Will grinned, watching his release slide down the inside of Hannibal's thigh."I am a gluttonous creature, William,"
he murmured,
"and indulging my behaviours can sometimes be...dangerous."Will barked out a laugh, reaching forward and pushing his tongue between the man's lips. "You're fucking ridiculous," he'd smiled. "And don't think I don't know that was the first time you've been fucked, old man."Hannibal grinned. "I don't ascribe to the social construct of virginity, Will.""Yes you do,"
Will retorted, "otherwise you wouldn't get so fucking hot at being the only one in
my
ass."
He pressed another kiss to the doctor's lips. "Even-steven now, baisūnas."Such a joining had been a long time coming and Will took great pleasure in watching his monster tell a Judge how he'd
bottomed for Will. No-one in the room needed to be told that such a thing did not fit with the controlling and rigid nature the serial killer had been profiled to have. Hannibal's declaration sealed, at least in the eyes of the Judge, their innocence.Collins' judgement was thirty-three pages long and he reiterated no less that nineteen times that any attempt at appeal by the Bureau would be pointless as he saw no possibility that another verdict might be reached.They were in the clear.The only card Chilton had left was the insanity plea, leaving him locked up tight inside his own institution, and Jack had been so thoroughly scolded his tail seemed permanently between his legs.
That left Will
wanting.
It was one thing to
know
about Hannibal's manipulations, another to see them in action. It left the blue eyed man wanton and rutting mindlessly against anything with a solid enough surface and, given the similar desperation Hannibal showed in mounting him in the days following, he wasn't the only one turned on by the series of events. When he hadn't been tending to patients, Hannibal spent his time fucking Will
oh-so-well,
meaning the younger man's new neighbours, nosily peering from their curtains while he walked his dogs, were beginning to believe he had a permanent limp.
"A work injury?" one had asked as she watered her flower-beds. "You're a police officer, aren't you?""FBI," the curly haired man had corrected. "Field agent, yes,"
he added. "Criminals are a lot more physical these days,"
he offered in explanation. "One reason I think I'll be retiring soon."Hannibal had laughed when Will mentioned it, pulling him close and grinning into his skin, and Will was too dizzy with their victory to really protest.A phone call from Reginald at a respectable, but rainy, 11:34am, four days after their win, finally had them leaving the house. The dogs, had been their only source of fresh air in several days, but even they, content in their new, custom built kennels, were not eager to venture out into the rain, tails and bodies wagging as they watched their owner(s) leave.It was not surprising that the FBI were summoning them to a settlement meeting so quickly. The formal apology had taken moments - a signed piece of paper acknowledging, publicly, that they'd messed up. A piece of paper that was then buried so deep it would take a motivated journalist time, effort and a well worded freedom of information request to get at. Jack had been put on formal suspension, pending an internal investigation. Then there was the matter of the money.
Of
damages.
Because they'd been traumatised by the invasion of FBI agents and everyone knew that while a house in shambles could be patched up, Will's reputation was a little more difficult, they'd been promised a pretty sum. Hannibal's social circle was divorced enough from the Bureau that rumours of how he spent his evenings didn't follow him down hallways. Will? - it would be a miracle if he ever worked in a respectable field again. Not that he had any intention to - but the FBI didn't know that.
They also didn't need disclosure on just
how
rich
his monster was.Reginald met them at the doors to the building, briefcase in hand and a serious look on his features. "They'll lowball us," he said after greeting them both. "The Judge has ordered special damages for Will and general damages for you both. Special damages is set. They've been ordered to pay $1.5 million. No way around that although I think I can ease us into something a little more lucrative," he said with a small smile. "The general damages is where they'll try to outstep you. Collins ordered a minimum of $500,000 each, but something tells me they'll be eager to pay you a little more than that to prevent another trip before the Judge. And then there will be the inevitable NDAs, which you will not be signing," he huffed.
Hannibal let a cruel smirk slink across his features. "Will and I will of course defer to your good judgement, Reginald."Will jerked his head, dizzy with the numbers the pair were throwing around, and the lawyer dipped his head in acknowledgment before turning on his heel and leading the way.The trio gave their names and were directed down the hall to a large conference room, where a small army of FBI lawyers and personnel sat waiting.Any familiar face was noticeably absent.Will would be amused at their attempt at intimidation if he wasn't walking in with the Ripper on one side and a highly motivated Reginald on the other. The three took empty seats opposite the FBI consul without exchanging handshakes and Reginald opened his briefcase, freeing a small stack of papers bound by clips and plastic wallets."Gentlemen, Ladies," he greeted. "Shall we begin?"It was, in short, a massacre.
Reginald wrangled in their legal jargon and beat the final agreement into a shape he liked with intelligence and determination. He was a man of little charm, but a bulldozer of efficiency. When Van Doren finally let them press their pens to the bottom of the contracts, both Will and Hannibal had a cool $1.25 million in general damages and Will's special damages had been raised to $2 million, on account of a book deal he might have had. Reginald had even brought fifteen examples of previous profilers who had written about their experiences as part of the BAU and about how Will would inevitably be deprived of such income after signing any confidentiality agreement with the FBI. The FBI was also forced to rewrite their NDA into a bilateral agreement that, Hannibal informed him, prevented the pair of them from being sued in retaliation much more than it protected the Bureau. Neither Jack, nor any member of the team involved with the Ripper, were to contact either Will or Hannibal unless, of course, either of them had explicitly sought contacted them themselves (so apology coffee with Bev wasn't off the table), nor were they allowed to utilise Will to construct any profiles without a consultancy contract in place.And all of this was permanent. It wouldn't run out after fifteen years and leave them exposed, he was assured, and so Will signed his name with a flourish, barely hiding the smug smile that inched across his lips. Hannibal was having similar problems.
They parted with a shake of the hands and even though they were bedraggled, brow-beaten and a little pissed off, there was a reluctant agreement amongst the FBI lawyers that paying that bit extra had been worth it to avoid the inevitable public backlash and outcry. There were enough government agencies under scrutiny for discrimination and bad practice and the FBI was determined not to add their names to the list for restructuring.It was getting dark, but still rainy, when they finally left the building, lingering under the overhang to avoid the wet.
"I'll make sure all the contracts are filed and in place tomorrow morning," Reginald promised, patting his case once for emphasis. "The money is due to be wired first thing on Thursday.""Thank you Reginald," Hannibal grinned.
"Of course, Dr. Lecter, Mr. Graham," he smiled, "I'll be in touch." With that, he turned and strode to his car, umbrella shielding him from the worst of the rain."I know I've said it before, but he's fucking brilliant," Will finally remarked, tucking his arm through Hannibal's crooked elbow and leaning closer as Hannibal put up their own umbrella and stepped out.
"Indeed," Hannibal huffed, "although anything less and he wouldn't have been practicing much longer.""Hannibal," Will snorted in disbelief, rolling his eyes. "You'd -""Darling, he charges $2000 an hour. Anything less than perfection for such money would be rude.""Something tells me we'll be tipping anyway.""Of course," Hannibal replied, almost indignant. "He has given us a rather wonderful win. His final fee of $100,000 is not merely enough to demonstrate our appreciation for his efforts, and of course we have the means." The Count paused. "No, I believe a token is appropriate.""A token?""$250,000 should be adequate," Hannibal agreed.
Will forced out a laugh. "Fuck," he hissed. "Of all the things about you that turn me on, you throwing money around like it's nothing shouldn't even make the grade."Hannibal's eyes darkened and Will was almost grateful for their arrival at the Bentley. He opened the door and slipped inside, ignoring the way he was beginning to strain against the fabric of his trousers. The European's expression upon situating himself in the driver's seat told Will his arousal hadn't gone unnoticed.The car purred to life beneath them and Hannibal had no qualms about reaching out and palming Will through his trousers as he drove, pulling sound after sound after sound from him. The doctor seemed to find amusement in stringing him out so eventually Will batted his hand away and slipped his own into his slacks.
His boxers were wet, clinging uncomfortably, and he was harder than steel. A groan slipped out and heat burned through his stomach as Will freed himself."Be careful mylimasis," Hannibal warned, knuckles whitening on the steering wheel.
"Careful?" Will asked, smirking as he leisurely stroked himself. "Whatever for?"The Count's eyes darkened further. "William," he hissed.
"Hannibal," the ex-profiler groaned in reply, tilting his head back to expose his throat and working himself faster. It didn't take too long, six, maybe seven strokes and he gasped out his release, eyes filtering in the dingy light and registering drops of white littering his lap and, much to his amusement, the Bentley's interior. Will turned, meeting the near feral look on his lover's face. "Oops," he grinned dopily.
The expression was thunderous. It was intoxicating. It promised retribution, it promised reciprocation, it promised a sweet, sweet revenge.
And when, after they finally arrived home, Hannibal spent the next eight hours cruelly edging Will over and over again until he was sobbing big, ugly, fat tears, puffing out his features and leaving him nothing more than a begging mess, the curly-haired man wasn't at all surprised.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Having money was a novelty that Will hadn't experienced before and he'd be lying if he said he was responsible with his new found riches.Yes, most was secured in various off-shore bank-accounts, easily and anonymously accessed from wherever he might be in the world. That had been at Hannibal's insistence; a nest-egg should things turn rapidly sour for the pair and they were forced to disappear rather than slink off into the sunset.
Some funds - what Hannibal had called 'spending money' like the rich asshole he was - had immediately been channelled into more superficial pursuits. New clothes, the ridiculously expensive kind that made Hannibal's pupils flair and bloat, had been particularly denting to the $3.25 million that now graced his accounts. He'd upgraded all his electronic devices too as well as buying a coffee machine that produced ambrosia that rivalled Hannibal's pretentious brew. The fisherman in him had blanched at the total spend for one day brushing its fingers against six figures.But with the money came admin.They were in the endgame, Will knew, and the finale of their dance had always concluded with leaving. Leaving the FBI, leaving Wolftrap, leaving
America behind. A life together could not exist a stone's throw from Jack and his band of merry vandals.Meetings with banks. Meetings with real estate agents who specialised in Italian villas and apartments in Florence that spread themselves of 3500 sq. ft. Meetings at home, too, where he listed his little house
and the land surrounding it for sale. A meagre $35,000 for the house but a cool $350,000 for the fifty acres it sat in.He'd been informed that it was developers who were the most interested. Will felt waves of nostalgia break over him then - the possibility that his ship, moored in the mist, may not exist when - if - he next returned to the States. He'd miss Wolftrap. He'd miss his house. He'd miss the river too, and the long, meandering walks he'd take with his dogs around the property boundaries.But Hannibal was right in a way when he had insisted that there were places more beautiful, more open, more at one with nature, across the pond, on the continent he still called home. Wolftrap
was
beautiful, but it was a place for Will Graham, profiler and loner, not
Will, who was born and raised and bathed in blood, loved by a devil and tethered to another soul.It had been a busy day.First, a final trip to the lecture halls he once commanded, to clear out his desk, his office and officially hand in his notice. He'd not been stopped, nor had any of his students offered anything more than a nod of the head in acknowledgement. They'd all heard the rumours, the whispers, that he liked to be choked and whipped and fucked stupid in a room straight from a porn movie. He could see their pity, their disgust and their arousal. A few were blatant, eyes raking over him, lingering on the bite marks on his neck, the sores around his wrists, barely covered by long-sleeves. They tracked the faint ring of bruises on his stomach, visible only when his t-shirt rode up, and watched his gait to see if more evidence would manifest there too.He noticed them all: a handful of men, a dozen women, all visualising him bound and wanting. They were unrepentant and, in one particular case, bold.The student was barely breaking into his twenties and still relying heavily on Axe body spray, but had enough courage to proposition him in his office.Oliver, he'd said he was, had been aggressive, assertive, demanding. It was clear that he assumed that because Will rolled over for Hannibal, he'd bend to the boy's will too. His words, the shift of his stance, told Will that while he'd probably experimented in bondage and rough sex, he didn't really have a clue what it meant. He didn't believe in the trust, in the conversations, in the vulnerability of it all - he was enthralled by power, dominance and, if Will was reading him right, humiliation.So Will let him down gently, playing the embarrassed teacher. But he continued, pushing himself into the office - into Will's space - tongue shaping words like
slut and stupid
and
real man.
He'd envisioned Will conceding, that was obvious. He'd probably fantasised about Will on his knees, mewling and squirming and pleading while he fucked his face, grinning and groaning and grunting like an animal until he came.
Will snarled then, all claws and sharp teeth, piling rejection after rejection, degrading his approach, his entitlement. He finally finished with a declaration that Hannibal was his as much as he was Hannibal's and that he wouldn't proposition any of the other faculty members in relationship, so should tuck his tail between his legs and leave.Oliver stormed out, scowl dark and flushed red with embarrassed rage. Will
noted the student's name and address for future reference.
His monster was oh, so territorial after all.
After the FBI, Will ran a few errands, including picking up a tailored suit Hannibal had ordered for him, followed by a six o'clock appointment with the estate agent. He ended up signing paperwork until late, finally letting himself back into the house at nine. His monster had messaged approximately half an hour earlier, informing him to expect a surprise. Will, wound up and fed up, had relaxed into the plush leather seats of the Bentley at the announcement, mind immediately diving into filth. He let himself grow hard, straining his slacks and did absolutely nothing to dissuade his cock from growing as he made his way home.The lights were low in the kitchen and the living room was darkened. Will was unsurprised. Given the message he'd received and that the third floor window was illuminated, it didn't take much to guess where his monster was. Although, given the love his Count had for the playroom, it shouldn't have been a shock.Will wondered if they might have a repeat performance of mixing things up.What met his gaze, however, made his mouth flop open.
Alana was sat in a high-backed chair, limbs individually bound to a leg, dressed in what appeared to be expensive lingerie (although significantly below the supple richness of Hannibal's own collection). It was bright pink, crotch-less with a garter belt and matched the lipstick and nail polish she'd worn too. Her nipples were erect, stabbing through the material and turning her breasts into points, while the slight shifting of her posture alongside the glint of something barely there told Will she had at least one plug inside her. There was a gag in her mouth, stretching her lips obscenely wide and Will started because he could see that it was a penis gag - the new one that had previously been in their toy draw. Spit had pooled in the crevices of her mouth and some had dripped down her chin making her look thoroughly undignified. His cock twitched at the sight because her eyes, bright with tears and fear and confusion, were fixated on him, mascara drooping a little, and when his monster wrapped a hand around his waist and dipped into his trousers to squeeze at his cock, he knew what Hannibal was doing.He was angry at first."You always did like having me in front of an audience," Will laughed bitterly, holding back from leaning into the bare chest.
"She attempted to seduce me," Hannibal responded - an explanation and a statement: I haven't touched her. "She arrived like this, sticking of lust, her thighs wet with slick and barely covering by the slip she called a dress, filled with that," he added, playing on the possessive streak that burned inside of him. "She told me she'd take me deep and let me fuck open her throat. That she was oh-so wet, all for me, and that she ached to be filled. She said I'd have never experienced something so hot, so tight, so
warm as her. That I could come inside her over and over and over again until she was bloated and round, looking heavy with child, and had no choice but to leak my seed all down her legs. She told me that she could match, could surpass, anything you did for me." Hannibal paused, letting his voice drop. "I thought you might appreciate demonstrating why that's never the case before we christen our reunion the only way we can," he continued, biting hard on Will's neck and reopening the mark he'd already left over and over and over again. "She'd be our last kill here," he breathed lowly in Will's ear, too low for Alana to hear.Alana who hadn't turned away.Alana whose gaze burned in its intensity."That's dangerous." His voice was cold.
"We'll make it look like another. A sexual encounter gone bad, a poor coincidence... a poor choice, a man who deserves the chair," the European crooned, quiet and reassuring. "There are so many options darling boy, I can find someone to point at.""Han -""You want to let her go?" Hannibal snarled, hand tightening on his cock harshly while his own erection pushed against the small of Will's back. "You want to let her go after she came to me, begging? After she pleaded for me to fuck her? Do you want her to survive, knowing she would paw at my cock, knowing she would want to feast upon me?"The noise that wrenched itself from Will's throat wasn't human. It was savage and furious. His eyes blinked closed and he was pushing himself into the dark, twisted headspace that dominated his kills.He saw it.He saw himself deep in Alana right down to the root, grinning as she squirmed on his cock and leaked all over the bed sheets, pawing at him, eager and wanton. He saw his hands press down on her neck and it would be then, as he began to exert pressure, that Hannibal would still his hips and sheath his cock in Will's ass, carving open space inside him once again. He'd drive into the profiler with strong, determined fucks, jarring his bones and making Alana whine into her gag as the force pushed Will deeper inside until there was no place left for him to go. He'd have met her gaze, grinning as she squealed.
And Hannibal would groan in his ear, urging him to fill her to the brim, so she'd die messily and sloppily and oozing with the spend of a man she thought herself above.And as he came, Hannibal would hold him close and tell him he loved him, pulling him free and letting him push and push and push down, giving Will his full weight just so there was more pressure, until the woman finally stopped moving. Then he'd hiss and finally come deep in Will's guts, staking his own claim, painting the blue-eyed man with his mark in a violence that overwhelmed all others.
Perhaps he'd have wanted it all those years ago.
(Not now.)
Perhaps he'd have wanted it if it weren't Alana.
(Not really.)
Alana who played him, who thought less of him, who thought she was the world.
(Poor little broken Will.)
Alana who pursued Hannibal - someone who was
taken, who was
claimed, who was
Will's.(How
dare she.)Instead Will just wanted her to know, and to see, just how insignificant a player she was in their game. How their world had no space for her in it. That she was barely a footnote, an offhand comment, in the story of their courtship.That Alana was nothing.So instead of stepping forward, Will stepped back, into Hannibal's embrace, until their bodies were as close as two could be without being joined.If the man was surprised, he didn't show it, but from the strain of his crotch and the heat of his skin, it was clear he was thoroughly aroused at the notion that Will only wanted him. That he rejected a scenario that had historically been ideal for him to kill.
"Undress, little one," Hannibal ordered, catching the hand that rushed to obey. "Slowly," he murmured against the shell of Will's ear. "Let me
savour you.""The bench," Will murmured. "Take me on the bench. Mount me.""Another time," Hannibal promised, dark and eager. "Now, I'll have you on the bed. I'll cherish you."Alana's eyes were wide and glassy, but she couldn't look away. Not as each piece of skin was revealed until Will was as bare as a newborn, trembling with anticipation against a half clothed Hannibal.
"You are stunning," Hannibal breathed, slowly walking Will backwards towards the bed until his knees hit the edge and buckled ever-so-slightly. "My beautiful siren," he crooned, one hand dropping low to smooth over his cheeks, the other going high to press probing fingers into his mouth. "Love of all my lives," he added, finally urging Will flat atop the sheets.
"Hannibal," Will urged, a sense of urgency creeping into his tone. It wasn't to come - even though his cock was hard as steel and
demanding
attention, the heated, red-hot flesh slapping crudely against his skin - but instead for the intimacy of Hannibal taking him. He wanted the man inside, around, enveloping him.
"Hush," he eased, kisses branding his skin, tender and lazy. The distraction was enough to make the finger circling his rim a surprise. It was slicked generously and traced over and over and
over, pushing lightly and teasingly. Will whined lowly. "My boy," Hannibal murmured, nipping at his lower lip. "Steady," he added, breaching slowly and enjoying the way Will arched up into him, mouth falling open, head dropping back and eyes fluttering shut. He was mesmerising - a sculpture of flesh - and Hannibal wanted to embed the moment in his mind so he could draw it again and again and again until even his pencil knew every line of Will Graham.
His hands were wet with lube as he pressed deeper into Will, probing against over-heated walls and drinking in the sounds that spilled from the profiler's lips.
One became
two became three and Will was spread wide then wider still as more flesh parted. "Darling boy," the Count whispered, "tell me how it feels.""You're everywhere," Will choked out, mind whiting at the
slow and the
tenderness of it all. "I feel you.""You're everything," Hannibal groaned, twisting his fingers and swallowing down the whimper that spilled from Will's mouth.The European risked taking his eyes off Will for a split second to glance to his right, to meet the heated, conflicted gaze of the woman bound to the chair. Hannibal shifted his attentions to the bundle of nerves inside his lover and pressed down just enough to make Will
shake and throw his head from side to side, flush chasing its way down his body."Yes,
Hannibal,
there -
please," he gasped, a little further gone than usual, no doubt at the pace of the evening.
"William," he crooned, pressing down once more while keeping watch on how Alana clenched around the plug nestled inside of her and slicked a little more. Her gaze flitted from the place where Hannibal disappeared inside of Will to the straining crotch of the Lithuanian's slacks to the flushed, weeping head of Will's cock making a pool of white that was settling in his navel. He could smell her arousal, her eagerness, and the seat of the chair was growing damp."I need you," Will breathed, bringing Hannibal back, as he let his legs drop outwards, exposing as much of himself as he could. His rim was flushed a deep and dark pink, winking at Hannibal enticingly.
Hannibal was out of his clothes in a heartbeat, hand dragging lube up and down his shaft as quickly as he dared."Open for me, my love," he said, head resting just at Will's entrance for a moment before pushing in, slow as molasses.Will tilted his hips, arching as much as he could to ease the slide, mouth opening in a wide and visible O. It was a smooth glide but still tight and Will took him all the way down to the root.
"Fuck," Will cried, tears beading at the corner of his eyes - not in pain but in the overload of sensation. "Hannibal.""Easy, my love, my darling one,
William," he urged, pressing kisses to his cheeks, eye-lids, temples and to the crown of his head, settling to wait.
"Move,
move - please -"
And he did. Slow and steady, he parted Will's flesh, grip deep and bruising on the profiler's hips, breath huffing over Will's neck. He risked a glance over his shoulder and was unsurprising to see Alana's chest heaving with effort, hips making aborted little motions as she rocked against the plug inside her. He locked his gaze with hers and groaned loudly when Will clenched around him. Legs wrapped themselves around his hips and urged him deeper.
"Hannibal," Will begged, biting at his jaw. "Look at me." The Count did. "Eyes on
me," he demanded, breath hitching and body shuddering with the effort of the slow pace. He was slick with sweat - his hair plastered to his forehead, the crease behind his knees where they'd tangled around Hannibal's hips damp, the junction of his neck and his collarbone where sweat had pooled, glistened enticingly.
A low growl began in the man's chest and he licked inside Will's mouth, heady and slow. "I love you," he breathed, words quiet enough that they were only for them. Will groaned and he met the gaze his monster directed at him."Prove it," he hissed.Hannibal doubled his pace.
Will keened, throwing his head back and rutting up, seeking friction against the head of his cock. He couldn't quite find Hannibal's stomach and so sobbed out instead, pleading without words for his monster to do something. Hannibal did, shifting the angle of his hips and watching as Will squealed in delight. It was a cacophony of pleasure, sounds more musical than even the European's most treasured compositions.He found himself thinking just how lucky he was to have the darling, dark, devious man all to himself.All to himself.Hannibal moved quickly, pulling out and immediately turning Will so he straddled his lap, facing outwards - facing towards Alana. Will's knees bracketed his own and he was so gone, delirious with it all, there was no need to urge him on, no need to prompt, he simply began to ride Hannibal. His cock slapped forward and back, against Will's stomach before whistling through the air again and brushing the bed sheets. His neck awkwardly hooked over Hannibal's shoulder, exposing the long, blemished line of his throat. His skin was flushed red, layered with sweat, his throat sounding hoarse with every cry.He was unrivalled and judging by the spit spilling from Alana's mouth, she thought so too.She was gushing, thighs wet and faint
shloop sounds had begun to echo from where the plug shifted inside her. Tears pooled at her eyes - eyes fixated on where Hannibal disappeared inside his lover. She was still pulling against her bonds but whether that was to escape from the inevitable death that the two were going to concoct for her, to free herself so she could slip her fingers inside herself and toy with the plug or crawl forward and ease herself down onto Will, they didn't know.The Count snarled, snapping his hips upwards, fingers digging into Will's thighs deeply, leaving a definitive and obvious claim of ownership.
"Darlin'," Will crooned, accent slipping into that Louisiana drawl that only ever emerged when he was well and truly fucked stupid. "Darlin' please," he begged.
"Whose are you Little One?" Hannibal breathed, hand curling around Will's cock lightly.
"All yours darlin', I swear it," he hissed, eyes rolling into his skull when Hannibal rewarded him with several long, firm strokes in response. Will hissed sharply, jerked and came with a high pitched cry that tapered off into a moan as Hannibal eased him through it. His come striped the floor. Alana groaned and ground down, once, twice, before she let go, soaking the chair and her underwear.Hannibal wasn't too far behind, hand wrapped tightly around Will, he fucked inside for a minute before hissing out his release, teeth set deep into the muscle of Will's shoulder.
No one moved for several moments, Will too blissed out to move, Hannibal reluctant to leave the warmth of his lover and Alana - chest heaving and skin ruddy - had returned to squirming in place. Then Will shifted his hips."Monster," he murmured.A pause. "My love?""I want her gone.""Yes, Little One, anything," Hannibal swore, pressing kisses to the back of Will's neck. "Anything you ask of me."Will freed himself from Hannibal's grip, moving forward and reaching towards Alana until the palm of his hand pressed heavily against the base of the gag in the woman's mouth. She started violently, realisation and panic blooming in her eyes, fear bleeding out as her air supply was cut off.
"Don't fight it," Will said, voice flat as she began to gag. "My Ripper can make even the ugliest things beautiful," he said, pushing harder.She was flailing, desperate, tears streaming, and then, after a handful more seconds, unconscious. The last image of life, forever burned into her retinas, was of them: of their love.
Will felt his lips curling in disgust and he turned back to his lover."Make it believable," the curly-haired man hissed, eyes pinning his Lithuanian in place. "Make sure the bastard you frame is easy. I want this written off in a heartbeat.""They'll believe. A man, an abuser, was released on a technicality a month ago. He's been stalking his ex-wife. He was to be my gift for you. A last kill before we leave. But he was always a contingency if she became bold. I can make it look like he went too far, got too hungry. A knife between the ribs. They'll call it a crime of passion." Hannibal stood, muscles rippling, sweat shining on his skin.Will grinned, savage. "How prepared.""I never truly believed she was going to let us go," was the only reply. "She's witnessed your design, Little One. Now, let me show her mine."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A hiker found Alana two days after she'd been reported missing.Her car was abandoned just off the highway, a quarter mile from the quietest intersection that led to the woodlands. It had been torn up and burnt out, the paint charred and metal warped in ugly, grey shapes. It was all too easy to track the path of the gasoline as it wove its way from bonnet to seat, particularly as the attempt to obscure evidence hadn't been entirely successful. Half a seat cover, the steering wheel and one of the back footwells had survived the blaze and the forensics teams swarmed towards them, cameras flashing and evidence bags at the ready.
The conclusions came quickly. The car was a desperate act done by a desperate man desperately trying to cover his tracks but not knowing where to start. And when they found Alana's body, any lingering doubt fled from their minds.She was dressed only in underwear and a man's shirt - no shoes, no identification, nothing that made Alana Alana. Just another victim amongst thousands. There had been a ring of bruises around her wrists and on the skin just above her elbows: a result of being manhandled or the remnants of a struggle the forensics team had later clarified. Her face was marked by black bruises and cuts. Whoever had dumped her had taken a hammer to her mouth. Her teeth were broken and jagged, some splintered slivers rammed down the back of her throat, but it was a job half done. Too gruesome, it seemed, for her murderer, who'd stopped after her jaw cracked, leaving her molars and two premolars intact. Her body, in contrast to her face, was relatively unblemished. A single stab wound, one that had glanced off her ribs and skittered downwards, perforating her liver, was one of only three marks (the other two easily written off as every-day clumsiness or sex-related bruising).She'd bled out in minutes, they said.In all, the crime was messy, rushed, panicked. It was the work of a killer who didn't know what they were doing and didn't have the stomach for cleaning up afterwards. Most likely a fledgling killer, the profile said. One who'd talked a big game but hadn't even done it before.
It was a crime of passion, a moment of madness, a murder done in the blink of an eye after the red-mist had descended.
And Terrence Walter had a past.
He was a wife-beater, even his neighbours said so. He liked his women submissive and he liked his women beautiful. Terrence's ex-wife, Jenny, had been the later, but not the former. He'd broken eighteen of her bones by the time the divorce finally went through.He'd been angry at her audacity. She'd taken the house, full custody of their three children and, in his eyes, their family and friends who had all sided with her. Terrence wasn't accustomed to being told no, particularly not by people who were his friends
first.
So, in an act he deemed reasonable at that time, he'd turned up on Jenny's doorstep, barged open the door and thrown her down the stairs.
Police arrived five minutes too late and Jenny spent the next five weeks in the hospital, stacking up bills she couldn't afford and cursing out the officers who'd dismissed her reports and told her that her ex wasn't a threat. They didn't even issue an apology, let alone fire the men who'd rolled their eyes when she'd pleaded for safety.But justice was too cruel to stop there.Terrence was out after eleven weeks with a chip on his shoulder, a vendetta and an appreciation for legal loopholes.
But then he went too far, the journalists said.
He met Alana.And he liked.Another beautiful woman with the same colouring as his ex-wife, the same ambition to succeed, the same fire burning in her eyes. Perhaps she was a distraction. A way to blow off steam when he wasn't stalking his ex-wife, filling her inbox with death threats and putting bricks through the windows of her new house. As if
moving
could stop him.
Alana didn't know just who she'd met, they believed. A respectable woman like herself, the newspapers read, would never have engaged with such a man. So they called Terrence charming. A few, the ones who hadn't believed Jenny at first, supported their claims. Agreed that Terrence could weave a tale that made him seem wonderful. Charm, omissions and a few white lies and Alana felt comfortable enough spending a couple of nights in his bed, string and obligation free.
But then? - a sexual encounter gone wrong, a fight, a blind panic after the monster had finally succumbed to his urges. The story wrote itself and Alana was the unfortunate leading lady.
Will attended the vigil.He stood, Hannibal by his side, holding a candle on a stick that was surrounded in tin-foil, letting it flicker in the wind as he sniffled. He offered condolences, let Bev fold him into a hug and squeezed out a tear or two through a face that tried to show he was holding it all back. He shook his head at Brian and offered: "We had our differences, but it was Alana," like he couldn't believe the world could snuff out such a light. Hannibal held his hand through it all, acting the dutiful partner and friend.
"I mentored her," he'd said, dropping his gaze when Price made an offhand remark about their presence there. "She was a remarkable woman and I had tremendous respect for her, professionally and personally. That never changed, even with the way our friendship ended."Silver tongue, Will had thought, biting his lip and hoping it looked like tears and not laughs.Jack didn't accept it though.
It was poetic, in a way, that Jack had been the one to identify the body. He called her Alana, he put his name to what was left of the psychiatrist. He saw the evidence, saw how sloppy the kill was, saw as more and more evidence pointed to Terrence - hair, fibre, DNA, Alana's earrings (one fallen behind the laundry hamper in the bathroom, the other on the floor in the bedroom) - and grimaced. He frowned at the skin cells on the steering wheel, the cracked tooth and the bone fragments on a hammer found in his garage. He saw Terrence's cracked knuckles and the dirt underneath his fingernails, heard the man confess to having no alibi outside a bottle of Jack and a black spot in his memory. He reviewed it all as well as he could, being sidelined as he was, and still remained unsure. Jack looked for
every
angle. He looked at whether all the overwhelming evidence was a means to frame Terrence, whether Terrence had been an accomplice but not the murderer, if he'd been pushed to kill.Will couldn't deny Jack his persistence.
Nor his instinct.Now Jack had the scent, there was little either Will, nor Hannibal, could do to convince him that they were innocent. Nor would they succeed in convincing Jack that the Ripper was tucked away behind bars, lamenting over his life choices and cursing them out in front of the hundreds of cameras he'd ordered erected himself. Jack looked at Alana and he saw. He saw meticulous planning, he saw a design, he saw opportunity - he saw a fight in a car-park over a tall, handsome Doctor who proclaimed to love only one.He saw a lover disposing of a woman who would think herself a better mistress.
And suddenly Will was
involved.
The ex-profiler saw the moment that the veil lifted. The back-end of a gathering between the former team - a way to raise a glass and temporarily put aside the bad blood that had eaten at and divided them. Zeller had made an offhand remark about how short life was and to hold on to people you loved, with a look at Will and Hannibal that spoke volumes. Jack's eyes had grown wide and black then, with fear or shock, Will couldn't say, but it was emotion that saturated every cell in his blood stream.For the first time, his precious little, lost lamb wasn't a sheep, but a wolf.Hannibal had dismissed Alana with little thought. She was insignificant because his affection had laid with Will - only Will - and so it would serve no purpose for him to kill her. But Will? Will had been thoroughly unhappy with Alana's meddling. He'd been possessive over Hannibal, he'd been blatant, he'd been territorial.Will watched Jack log every interaction, every reaction and suddenly he knew. He knew that Will wasn't delusional, nor was he tricked by the Ripper, he was with
him. Which meant that Will knew. Will knew and either he'd asked Hannibal to kill Alana, or Will himself had committed the act - a means to proving his dedication, perhaps? Or to satisfy an urge he'd always had. Jack had met Will's gaze, searching, and Will had let the mask drop, only for a second, but it was enough for Jack to throw back his chair in shock, turn on his heel and leave without another word, ignoring the echoing calls from Bev and Price following behind him.
Will had shared the conclusion with Hannibal once they were alone again, but the man had only laughed. "And who would believe him if he confessed, Little One?"No one.
The Bureau were quietly trying to usher Jack into an administrative job to keep him out of the press. Firing him might have been easier but that brought publicity, it brought the
why
and the
what
that the institution was trying so hard to avoid. Urging someone to go quietly, however, was difficult at the best of times and when that person was Jack, it was near impossible. That all meant that Jack had become something of a thorn in the agency's side. They wanted him gone, and all knew it. The perk for Will and Hannibal was that anything that came from Jack's mouth was either further proof that he'd skittered so far off the rails he couldn't come back, or a desperate plea to keep his job.
Monsters in the night? Just Jack clutching at straws, pitching a creature only
he
could catch.
The truth about Alana? A man grieving the loss of a friend by blurring the lines he'd overstepped.
Jack had worked out a riddle that had perplexed the agency for years and not a single soul would believe his declaration, and Hannibal loved that.He loved it so much, there had been a permanent, smug smile adoring his features for the week after they finally put Alana in the ground. Terrence Walter, arrested and awaiting trial, had been ambushed in the showers two days after his move into detention by a patient who'd been fond of Alana. The man was alive, but he'd been placed in a medically induced coma until the blood stopped leaking out of his ears. So he wasn't a problem either.
It was all, oh so neat.They'd gone to bed early that night, wrapped around one another after a leisurely afternoon fuck in Hannibal's obnoxiously large clawfoot bathtub, when a noise woke Will.
Hannibal slumbered on, oblivious, but the hackles on Will's neck were raised enough that he slipped free from his lover's grasp and made his way downstairs, wearing nothing but skin and a pair of Hannibal's boxers.
The house seemed as quiet and content as it always did. There wasn't a hair out of place, but still a nagging feeling that things weren't quite right pulled at Will, so he walked around the ground floor, checking rooms and windows as he went. He could see the kennel was locked too, and the fire they'd lit earlier had been fully extinguished. He moved an old, dusty novel from the dining room table into its proper place in the library bookcase and wiped a finger along the top of the mantelpiece, humming to himself as he went.He was flicking on the light in the kitchen when there was a bright flash and a blinding pain tore at his side. He collapsed, gasping harshly, looking down to see blood flowing from an ugly looking hole in his abdomen. Will pressed a palm to the site with as much force as he could, looking up to see who'd shot him.
Jack.
Admittedly it wasn't the Jack who'd first approached Will all those weeks ago and asked for help. It wasn't even the Jack that argued with him over the name of the Evil Minds Museum. No, this Jack was a feral, broken thing. A man with nothing left to lose and his version of justice to enact.
His nostrils were flared, his eyes wide, his body strung so tightly, he looked a moment away from snapping.
"What the
fuck?" Will hissed, eyes going sharp and deciding immediately that playing pretend with this man wasn't going to work.
"You knew," the older man said, anger radiating from every inch of him, his hands a little unsteady where they were wrapped around the gun. Trembling with rage, adrenaline, uncertainty, Will wasn't sure, but his vengeance was a demanding, eager thing and at that moment, it had chosen to point itself at Will.
"Knew what Jack?" Will snarled in reply, dragging himself to the doorframe and propping himself up, fingers digging deep into his skin to stem the flow. It wasn't the worst wound he could have received, but he'd need some medical attention soon if he was going to enjoy his monster more than he already had."Knew about Hannibal," Jack growled, taking what he thought was a menacing step forward but instead broadcast his desperation.
Will heaved out a breath, as though the conversation were boring, or beneath him, and met Jack's gaze. "I've known about Hannibal since I was twenty-one Jack," he finally said, deadpan, hoping that his monster would come and investigate just where Will was. "I've always know about him."
"You -" His eyes blew wide and he trailed off, lips shaping words he couldn't vocalise.
"Were you expecting a different answer?" he sniped, cruel."Why?" Jack's finger was back on the trigger, eyes even wider and disbelieving. He looked ready to tip over the edge and Will eyed the man wearily. "Why didn't you
do
anything? You - you
hunt
these vile fucks and you - you just
let
him -" Jack broke off. "Fuck," he cursed, "Miriam. You knew that Miriam -""I asked for Miriam," Will replied, dragging out the conversation.
"How the f-""We needed a witness to point to Chilton," Will explained. "Miriam was just that."Jack heaved in a breath. "Did you know she was alive?" he hissed. "Did you know he was - was
cutting
bits off her and -""Only after I asked," Will confessed. "But my baisūnas
has always been prepared. It wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine he'd got something he could use -""Something," Jack snarled, cutting the ex-profiler off. "Someone," he said, "Miriam deserved better.""She got too close," Will shot back.
"She found Lecter."Will rolled his eyes. "My kalė
likes to draw," he muttered.
"So you went along with it," Jack pressed. "You knew and you just watched us run around like - like -""It was a test.""A
test?" The vein in Jack's head was dangerously close to bursting.
"Hannibal was proving himself to me," Will replied, shifting his weight and wincing.
"Proving -""Our relationship has always been dark, Jack," he began. "But when we separated all those years ago, we never expected to find one another again. But we did, despite the odds, despite letting one another go, we found each other. So it stands to reason that someone upstairs wanted
us too." Will paused. "God always did have a fucked up sense of humour.""So all of this?" Jack spluttered. "It was just, just a fucked up
courting?""Flowers are boring," Will replied. "I wanted him to prove he'd give up his life for me, just like I was prepared to give up mine for him."A snort. "A suicide pact?""Not suicide. I have no plans to die Jack," Will laughed, "but Professor Graham, the shy nervous thing who can't navigate a social situation? Him, I was ready to burn him to the ground for Hannibal.""The Ripper..." Jack realised. "It wasn't because we were close."Will laughed again. "No," he snorted, "it's because I asked. Because I wanted to see what he would do. Because I wanted to see how far he'd go. Because I wanted to leave without fear of being chased. I'm careful by nature, Jack. Hannibal is
less so. But we're a pair. We're identically different, reflections of one another framed in glass, echoes of each other's darkness.""This is sick. He's a monster," the profiler spat."So am I," Will replied quickly.There was a pregnant silence at that."How many?""How many
what
Jack?" Will asked, seeing a shadow flicker out the corner of his eye.Finally.
"How many people have you killed?" Jack demanded, trying to add an authority to his voice that made Will chuckle. His grip on the gun tightened and he jerked it slightly as though to threaten."I don't know," he answered honestly. Jack looked a little green at that.
"What the fuck are you?" he spat.
Will grinned, looking past Jack to the dark figure looming behind him, all six foot something of packed muscle and bloodlust. "Just a boy, standing in front of a boy, asking him to kill you for me."Jack turned too late and Hannibal threw his entire weight into him, sending the gun skittering away. The pair grappled on the floor, the Lithuanian letting Jack get in a few hits before he produced a knife from somewhere on his person and drove it deep into Jack's thigh, twisting once he felt it hit bone.The man roared and reared back, throwing Hannibal off, and staggered away. He instinctively lunged for the block of knives resting on the countertop. He freed the largest one and slashed at Hannibal, cutting open the European's shirt and leaving a thin, raised line across his chest. His arms were swinging wildly in wide arcs that made him appear considerably out of control. His pained grimace though whenever he put any weight on his leg, revealed the blatant weakness he was trying to protect. After a few more swings and two hits to the Doctor, one that went deep as it opened up the back of his arm and another that cut shallowly into his cheek,
Will realised what his lover was doing and hissed:
"I'm bleeding out here, asshole. You have enough evidence indicating a struggle, now just fucking kill
him."Hannibal acquiesced and less than a minute later, Jack lay choking on his own blood, trying to breathe through a collapsed windpipe after a 'lucky' strike from a nearby frying pan. His gaze never wavered from Will, who watched, disinterested, as he gurgled, frothing red at the mouth, and finally died.
"My darling," Hannibal crooned as he walked over, dropping the pan to the floor and letting it stay where it fell. His hands were immediately overlapping Will's own and he pressed hard on the wound, causing Will to hiss and glare at him sharply.
"Took your time," the man snarled.
Hannibal only grinned, "I had to ensure our injuries were indicative of an ambush, mylimasis.
Or would you prefer questions."Will only huffed in reply, letting the fight drain out of him.
"We should call 911," the ex-profiler said, fingers coming up to thumb harshly at the bruises blooming on Hannibal's face. The Count just grinned at the action, a twitch in his eye the only indicator of the pain that flared brightly each time Will pressed down. "The sooner the better if we want to pitch this as a home invasion."
"I'll get the phone," came the reply. "Keep pressure." He returned in seconds, holding out the phone in offering.
"Flip you for it?" Will asked, keying in the numbers. "Are we going with panic? Obsessive ex-boss threatening us?""You are a much better actor than me, my love," Hannibal replied, wrapping a clean kitchen towel around Will's stomach and another around his left arm. "And I believe the truth is best. You arose for water and were ambushed in the kitchen. I intervened just before Jack could kill you. We fought and what occurred was entirely in self defence.""Fair enough," Will said as he hit ring, gaze on the spreading, copper mess seeping out from underneath Jack. He hummed and Hannibal raised an eyebrow in question. "That's gonna leave a fuckin' stain," he huffed.Hannibal grinned and pressed his face into Will's curls, dropping a kiss to his temple. "We'll get a new mop.""Can't mop out the grout," came the grumpy reply. "Not really.""A new kitchen?" Hannibal offered.
Will smiled. "A new house."The European blinked slowly. "Time to go, then?" he asked.
"I'd say so, don't you think?" Will jerked his head to Jack's cooling body.
Hannibal bit back a smile before offering: "I do so hate stains."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Closing down his psychiatry practice took Hannibal considerably less time than Will thought it would.
Will expected weeks of referrals, of transferring notes, of the whines and pleas of patients to stay, but in the end, it was all proceeding rather quickly. Although it was probably because the truth of why
had been painted on every newspaper from New York to Tallahassee.It made for riveting reading.An FBI Special Agent, one who had been placed in the field without clearance (something only possible through the neglect of proper procedure and happily conflicting with psychiatric guidelines, the stories noted repeatedly), had spent nearly two years successfully rounding up the worst serial killers the east coast had to offer (his numbers triumphed over most other departments of a similar persuasion), only to be shown the door.The reason for his leaving had been painted as a sacking, a rumour furthered at the FBI's insistence to respond, whenever questioned, that they "did not find it appropriate to comment upon the circumstances of his departure". Unfortunately for them, the response caught the attention of all the investigative reporters within a 100 mile radius.The 'circumstances' were later clarified by a handful of his students, however. They had been more than happy, Will was told, to vent about the ridiculousness of the Bureau sacking their "best and favourite teacher, all because he liked getting tied up and spanked by his boyfriend". The news anchors had turned a light pink as the students ranted, but Will and Hannibal had laughed and laughed and laughed - before applauding at the sheer number of advocates who got involved, all attempting to call the Bureau out and clarify that Will's leaving was in fact bias against the LGBTQ+ community, as well as anyone who practiced love in ways they didn't like.But even the advocates, loud and persistent in their calls, knew that they fought to set precedent rather than see Will returned to his post. After all, everyone knew a handful of days after his departure that Special Agent Crawford - Will's superior (the same one who had "exposed their extracurricular activities" it was said) - broke into the house he shared with his partner and tried to murder him.There was speculation as to why, of course.Most said he just couldn't accept the truth about the Ripper. They said Jack craved the notoriety hunting the serial killer had brought him and, with Chilton behind bars, despaired at losing the attention. Others said it was because he'd lost his mind, looking at the dregs of humanity, and lines blurred so badly he couldn't see where his team ended and the monsters began. Some more adventurous reporters even blamed jealousy. They claimed that Jack was a man who'd longed for his subordinate and couldn't stand the thought of him being with another man, like Bella was a footnote in Jack's life and Will was the most desirable creature since Aphrodite herself.All agreed though that Jack Crawford had cracked himself wide open, his interest-turned-obsession in Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham leading him to their townhouse that evening and whatever demons that itched beneath his skull had made him draw a gun and put a bullet in his subordinate.Nothing other than self-defence was ever considered. Will had been visibly traumatised, Hannibal was desperately trying to protect his lover and there was a history of harassment between Jack and the pair. Responding officers had seen the way the Count had curled himself around the blue eyed man, hands slick with red as he tried to stop the bleeding, fingers shaking so violently, he'd failed to convince them he'd been a doctor, once. The curly-haired ex-profiler had been sobbing so hard - relief or hysteria, they couldn't tell - that his oxygen mask kept fogging up and he'd tear at his face, only Hannibal able to keep him still enough to let the first responders see his wound.
The statements from the police to the public, both on and off the record, had sealed their innocence. That coupled with the pair's silence to the press - Hannibal pulling some of his well connected strings to give them some space - told the world they wanted nothing more than to leave the glare of the national spotlight and the terribly traumatic incident behind. Even Freddie, desperate for a headline as she was, had led her latest article with a photo of Will and the title: Killer Catnip, making reference to Chilton's obsessive courtship of Will as the Ripper and Jack's obsessive focus on the ex-profiler.He looked every inch the victim.Riveting indeed.In a way, the entire Jack-Ripper debacle was even neater than Alana's death, loose-ends tying themselves up with little to no effort on either Will or Hannibal's part.
With the murder of their consultant, the persecution of their resident empath, the psychotic break of their chief and the voices of thousands calling for reform and answers, the FBI had decided, quite promptly, to disband the task-force that had caught the Ripper and countless other monsters. At least, they said, until safeguards could be put in place to protect any in that line of work. Will had seen the news first on Tattlecrime, which had later been verified on the bigger, more reputable news sites.
Will, though, had only kept half an eye on the news. He checked in once in a while to see if they were considered suspects and set up alerts, just in case they had to find a flight to the nearest non-extradition country, but on the whole chose not to focus on the endlessly cycling reports. Most, it seemed, had been more interested in the massive failings of the FBI and their non-existent safeguards, rather than if Will's attempted murderer might have been right.So, instead, Will made himself busy.He was released from the hospital only a day after the forensics had finally finished photographing their kitchen with strict instructions not to outdo himself. Instructions that he'd promptly ignored when, two hours after they'd both been formally cleared and under the all-seeing eye of his lover who had deliberately kept his office door open as he dismantled his practice, he began to pack.Clothes, paintings, drawings, books - oh so many books - all were carefully documented, ordered and placed in boxes. Will had already made arrangements for the harpsichord and grand piano to be flown to their new villa, a couple of miles from Florence. The furniture, too, was to be moved, although some Hannibal had already offered to his companions in the Baltimore high society for meagre prices and his pretentious, virtually untouched couch with gilded arms from the second sitting room had been a generous donation to the theatre and ballet company, to be used for their productions. They were in need of a new one, Hannibal had informed in, nose curling just a little. The company were happy to accept and had, upon their collection, gifted two tickets for their latest production, for the royal box in thanks.Other, more sentimental pieces, such as his desk, the armoire, the dining table and others had been bubble-wrapped within an inch of their life. They were to be collected at the end of the week and flown over. Will had balked at the prices of moving but, it turned out, Hannibal had a lot of shit he wanted to keep. The playroom, too, had all been packed up into suitcases and boxes; the bench dismantled and bars wrapped and placed in crates. He giggled to himself at the ridiculousness of it all when he arranged pick up for the beds in the house, the wardrobes and for the three crates of lingerie and sex toys that would be travelling over to their new home.It had been slow going and, at time, laborious, but he'd only pulled his staples once and his monster had been more than happy to bolt him back together, licking the blood off his fingers with a grin, like the bastard he was.They'd managed to keep their move out of the press and, much to Will's surprise, out of the gossip channels present in Hannibal's circle of acquaintances. He'd assumed the charade was over when they had gifted the furniture but instead, several letters of well-wishes, as well as unveiled demands for a dinner party to 'rechristen their home' continued to flood the house. Will wondered whether his lover simply intended to leave without a word.
Not that many would begrudge him, he thought.
It was early evening and the house stood quiet, covered in dust sheets, bubble-wrap and tape: ready for the move. Only a handful of their belongings remained unboxed and their bed was the only item still as it had been weeks previously. Will was still damp from his shower, towel draped around his waist, fingers tracing his stomach which was an angry red-pink but steadily healing with each day that passed, when Hannibal swanned into the bedroom, a suit bag over his arm. Will cocked an eyebrow.
"Our tickets," the man prompted, "for the ballet."Will groaned. "Really?""It would be rude not to take advantage of such a gift -""But -""And," Hannibal continued, "this will be one of our last opportunities to attend."Will let his eyebrows crawl into his hairline. "We're moving to
Florence," he snorted, "I'm pretty sure they invented culture."The European looked distinctly unimpressed, before something devious stole into his gaze and a flash of a smile skittered across his lips. He moved forward, dropping the bag on the bed, before he wrapped his hands around Will's waist, tugging the towel down until the ex-profiler was as bare as a newborn."Now darling," Hannibal crooned. "You did promise me I could parade you around, did you not?" Will huffed out a breath, half in annoyance at having his own words thrown back at him, half at the hand slinking its way south. "Come on my love," he added, his mouth at Will's throat - a teasing, gentle thing.
"What if I changed my mind?"Hannibal laughed, lips becoming teeth as his grip tightened. "Well, that just won't do," he chuckled darkly.Will let his head loll back against the European, relaxing into the now bruising grip. "It's so -
boring," he complained. "Wouldn't you prefer we stay in?" His features turned lusting and he ground back against the man behind him. "I'm sure I could find something to entertain you," he promised.They hadn't done anything more than leisurely and lazily jerk each other off in the days following Jack's attempt on his life. It had been at Hannibal's insistence, desperate to ensure he was healed, and Will was growing bored with fingering himself in the shower to stave off the itch under his skin.
Another huff. "A tempting offer, Little One," Hannibal murmured, "but I find myself anticipating the opportunity to, ah," he paused, squeezing tight and making Will hiss, "put some culture in you." Will frowned and so Hannibal continued. "I did all you asked of me. I chained myself, I chained my beast. For you, my love. All for you. The Ripper is caught, he is gone -
dead," a slow, dirty grind punctuated his words and the cloth of Hannibal's trousers were rough on Will's damp skin. "Let me have my reward. You promised me my reward."A scowl and not nearly enough resistance before. "Fine," Will acquiesced.
The Count grinned. "Thank you, love," moving away instantly, leaving the younger man dizzy. "Now, we mustn’t dawdle now," he said, patting the bag before moving to the bathroom to shower.And that was how Will found himself hanging off Hannibal's arm, pandering to the intrusive questions of high society about how
traumatic
his past few weeks had been and how
grateful
he was to have Hannibal for a lover. His monster, of course, adored every moment, chest puffed out and growing smugger by the minute as people cooed over his curls and his eyes and remarked at just how beautiful they were together.Will knew he was attractive, and that Hannibal most certainly was, but the way jewelled fingers clutched at his arm and swept over his hands and, on one daring occasion, reached out to smooth his hair back from his eyes, made his want to hiss and spit like a cornered animal. And when those attentions turned on Hannibal? When the men leaned into his monster's space daringly, the women clutching at his bicep and laughing just a touch too loudly? His blood boiled.
By the time Hannibal directed Will to their seats, the younger was more than ready to murder the lot of them.Their box was quiet, secluded, hidden from the stage and flanked by heavy, velvet drapes. Rich upholstery and chairs with rigid, gilded arms made Will think of a king sitting upon his throne, regarding entertainment that was just for him. It was powerful, but it was private.An intimate setting for them both.They'd been gifted a bottle of champagne and Will had popped the cork and poured himself a glass a moment after they entered, door clicking shut behind them. He eagerly downed half his drink in a moment, enjoying how it tugged at his throat on the way down."Thirsty?" Hannibal chuckled, thumb running over Will's lips, catching a stray droplet of alcohol and pushing it into his mouth. The ex-profiler obliged, letting his tongue swirl around the digit, tasting trace amounts of champagne but all of Hannibal: his sweat, his aftershave, the tang of his skin. He stepped back after a moment, pressing a teasing kiss to the man's hand as he did."Your friends are handsy," Will confessed, tone more biting than he wanted, as he sat. Hannibal laughed but didn't reply, instead pouring himself a glass and sitting too, watching as the lights began to drop and the production began.
They were quiet for a few scenes before a warm palm settled on Will's thigh. The man glanced over to find the European leaning in towards him.
"I really must thank you for being so
good for me tonight, Little One," Hannibal whispered. "Letting me show you off.""You certainly enjoyed it," he accused."I like people knowing you're my good boy," the doctor replied without missing a beat.
A shiver went down Will's spine.
"What if I don't want
to be good," he returned, petulant.Hannibal laughed, low and throaty and unfazed by his attempt at rebellion. "Well, then I must say you're doing a terrible job of being bad."Will scowled. He knew he was being manipulated - knew it was a thinly veiled challenge, daring him to do something - but he found he didn't care. He met the gaze of the Count and let his legs fall open, an invitation. It was one the other man didn't refuse.The warm palm immediately found its way to his crotch, a burning heat that only added to the arousal that had been steadily building for an hour or more. Will bit back a whine, instead, reaching for the glass of Champagne to his left and taking a sip. Something dark flickered in the monster's eyes and he began roughly palming Will through his dress pants. The dancers on stage were caught in a desperate embrace, the orchestra building to a crescendo, but the ex-profiler had no clue as to the reason to two protagonists were wound around one another. He only knew his erection was beginning to strain at the seams in his trousers and his head was stuffed full of his lover. Yet still he gave no reaction beyond gritting his teeth, clenching his jaw and breathing out of his nose in long, measured exhales.
"If you're so insistent on withholding your pleasure," Hannibal began, tone unreadable as his hand migrated from Will's crotch to his waistband, "then I shan't give you any." Will narrowed his eyes sharply, a retort on the tip of his tongue, when he was pulled forward by his pants and unceremoniously deposited in the Count's lap. Will's glass clattered to the ground, the dregs of his drink spilling over the expensive carpet. His fingers immediately tightened around the arms of Hannibal's seat, nails digging in to the rich upholstery and he aimed a scowl over his shoulder. Hannibal's face was unrepentant, in fact he seemed almost gleeful. "Instead," he continued, taking a sip of his own drink before setting it down again, "you can keep me warm.""You can't be fucking serious," he hissed, voice nearly drowned out by the act in full swing below."I'm deadly serious, William," Hannibal said, smile not hidden by the layers of Will's suit. His fingers, prying and restless, had moved again, now, they were urging Will's trousers down, letting them pool mid thigh. His boxers, the old ratty cotton pair Will had chosen as his small act of rebellion, were left alone - at least until the next rumble of drums, when Hannibal grasped the fabric and
ripped right down the middle. Will, torn between anger and arousal, moved to turn, but a tight and punishing grip on his hip kept him in place.Hannibal was hard. As hard as nails and sensitive too, if the way the Doctor gingerly freed himself was any indication. Will was loose, his thorough fingering a hour before they'd left had seen to that, but he was too dry to take his monster. When Hannibal reached over him though, picking up the near empty bottle of champagne, he clearly intended to improvise.
"You stick that bottle up my ass, it'll be the last thing you do," Will snarled.
The man had the audacity to
laugh. "Why the protest, darling," he grinned. "You'd take it so well." The hand clutching the bottle coming up to thumb at his mouth. He offered him a drink which Will accepted with a scowl. "Just as thirsty here, aren't you love.""You old fuck," Will hissed, champagne running down his chin."I thought you liked your men old," came the reply. "As I psychiatrist, I'd diagnose
Daddy Issues."Will growled, but was stopped mid sentence when a persistent, somewhat damp finger pulled apart his torn underwear and began tugging at his rim. It stung a little and it didn't take a genius to work out what the man had wet his fingers with. Another quickly followed. "Hannibal," he warned.
"Deep breath love," the European crooned, spreading his fingers just so and grinning when the man let the air in his lungs whistle through his teeth. A soft laugh, then he was shifted forwards, a warm hand on his lower back making him tilt his hips.Will was close to the edge of the balcony, looking out over a crowd transfixed by the stage. But anyone could glance up, a guest who'd grow disinterested perhaps, or an overwhelmed patron who needed a minute to compose themselves. A stray eye and Will's flushed face, something he couldn't hide no matter how he hard tried, would be a beacon highlighting just what they were doing.Will heaved in a steadying breath, only to have it punched out of him when Hannibal began easing him back. Hannibal felt even thicker given what little prep he'd received and Will was panting, knuckles white and skin taught as he was eased down onto his lover's cock. It felt like an age, but eventually Will was flush to the European's lap, carved open and his rim stretched as far as it would go. To any outsiders, he seemed relatively decent, but given the deep and heavy breathing from his lover, the same couldn't be said about the view from behind. Either that or the experience of being engulfed in Will's heat was more overwhelming than he wanted to admit to."There's my good boy," the Count hummed, pulling Will back until they were so close, they were almost one form."You've been planning this," he choked out."Yes, I have," was the unfazed response. "Now, sit still, Little One, I'm rather enjoying the performance."
"Whose?" Will snarked, something curling in his gut.
A hand, still damp, slithered beneath his shirt, and came to rest on his distended stomach not far from the still healing bullet wound. "Keeping me safe and warm aren't you Little One," came the reply, ignoring the jibe. "Just hold me there and I'll reward you darling boy." He hushed, rubbing broad, round circles across his core.
At first, Will handled it. He could separate the heady, heavy sensation of Hannibal carving out a place inside him from the arousal pooling in his guts. But the soothing, repetitive motion of his monster's hand and the teasing nips from his teeth were more difficult to ignore, and by the house lights rose for the interval, Will was a little delirious.Hannibal shifted his weight a little and pulled a blanket from nearby, draping it over their laps and hiding the now insistent bulge tenting what remained of Will's boxers and the waistband of his trousers, still pooled around the top of his thighs. "Best behaviour, love," he ordered and before the ex-profiler could retort, he'd pushed some sort of button and the door to their box opened.
"Is everything alright, Doctor Lecter?" a neatly dressed attendant asked, appearing over their shoulders.Hannibal turned, non-plussed, and smiled charmingly. "Yes, Walter, if you would be so kind as to obtain another bottle of champagne please?""Of course, Doctor Lecter," the man replied, backing out, showing no sign that Will being sprawled in Hannibal's lap was unusual behaviour. When the door clicked shut, Will turned on his lover with a snarl.
"The
fuck
was that?"Hannibal only grinned, thrusting up sharply and leaving Will scrambling for balance. "Careful Little One, we wouldn't want anyone to see.""Says the man who let a fucking
waiter
into the box.""Maybe I want him to watch?""You -""Maybe I'm going to let you fuck his throat while you warm me." His tone was languid but the cage of his arms told of how empty the words were. Hannibal was Hannibal - he wanted an audience, not a participant. Will couldn't help but laugh.
"You'd watch me enjoy a stranger while caught on your cock?" he asked, brimming with disbelief.
"Maybe I'd enjoy it," was the reply.
"You're a shitty liar. He'd get his mouth on my balls and you'd end up cutting his tongue out because he dared to touch me.""You've had substandard lovers before, Little One, and I have not dismembered them," Hannibal replied, thrusting up four times, sharply and quickly, grinning when a squeal squeaked out Will's throat.
"No," Will groaned, ignoring as sweat began to pool at his temples, "because I did that myself."A chuckle before all movement stopped. Will was about to complain when the door clicked open and
Walter
returned with another bottle. "Sirs," he greeted, hesitating only slightly at the slightly more tousled appearance of the ex-profiler. He set down the glasses and began to pour, nodding at Hannibal's thanks, when his eyes tracked to the floor, seeing the fallen glass and discarded bottle dropped there. He bent over to retrieve them, revealing a blush that crawled up the back of his neck. It seemed Hannibal's attempt at subtlety had been unsuccessful. He stood and cleared his throat, offering a half smile.
"Have an enjoyable evening, sirs," he offered, every inch the professional, and turned, but before he'd manage to pull the door firmly shut behind him, Hannibal had resumed thrusting, forcing several high pitched and breathy mewls from Will's mouth. There was no doubt, then, to what they were doing and if Will were a prouder man, he'd be enraged at Hannibal displaying him just so he could watch a young man trying to earn a decent wage, blush at the indecency of it all.
"You're a piece of shit, you know that," Will heaved, hips beginning to ache as Hannibal settled into a jerky rhythm."No, mylimasis," the man laughed, licking the trail of sweat that was slipping down the veins of Will's neck and turning the collar of his ridiculously expensive shirt damp."I'm - I'm surprised y-you are so w-w-willing to have - ah -
your reputation debauched by this."Hannibal huffed, lips pulled taught into a smile. "What use is my reputation here when we'll soon be four thousand miles away. Perhaps I'd like to leave these people with a lasting impression of us both." He was rotating his hips now, in short, sharp circles, punching sounds out of Will no matter how hard he tried to resist.
People were beginning to filter back, interval over, ready for the next half. Will clenched down hard in an attempt to stop his lover from bucking up into him and, much to the man's surprise, Hannibal ceased his movements, instead easing back into his seat and letting Will relax into his embrace. The ex-profiler made a confused sort of noise, as though he couldn't quite believe he'd been allowed a reprieve.
The European smiled into Will's hairline. "I did request you keep me warm, Little One.""No," Will gasped. "You fuck."He was aching,
dripping and desperate. He moved to cup himself but Hannibal pinned his hands to the side of the chair. "Ah ah, William," he crooned, "I don't want a randy little slut," he cussed, "I want my nice, sweet little cock-warmer. My Little One who lets me use him and begs so prettily for it.""I don't beg -""Yes you do, darling. You do for me, always for me," Hannibal chuckled as the lights dropped. "You're so beautiful, mylimasis,
and all mine. You let me love you in all the ways I know how and I do so
adore
that about you, my love. So, let me have you. Let me parade you around. Let me use you up. Let me just keep you here, caught on my cock."
It was hell.
Hannibal was unrelenting, keeping Will firmly fixed in place no matter how much he squirmed or pitched low, desperate little mewls directly into the Count's ear.
His monster was undeterred.
It was only when decorum demanded they stand and applaud the art they had witnessed did Hannibal pull himself free, leaving Will to tumble unceremoniously to the floor of their private box. He'd tucked himself away, still red raw and hard, and risen as though he had not a hair out of place, hands clapping together in as loud and appreciative a gesture as he could muster. Will, though, hissed and glared, gingerly righting his clothing and attempting to visualise anything that might quell the burning lust scorching his veins. He didn't fare well and, if the way Hannibal had suddenly dragged him to his feet and pushed him through the door to the box once the applause began to dim was any indication, his monster was similarly effected, even if the well positioned jackets were effective in hiding their arousals.
"I am going to choke you until you black out," Will snarled under his breath, walking just a little bow-legged and feeling
open in a manner that made him want to clench up as tightly as he could as he was ushered through the lobby with more speed than his legs could handle. In fact, the slight trembling in his limbs and a general sensation of wobbling jelly only reaffirmed that his monster was probably the only reason he was still standing.
Hannibal only huffed a laugh in reply and tightened his grip.
They were waiting for Bentley from the valet, Hannibal deliberately ignoring Will's whispered threats to murder him for his actions inside, when the former profiler spotted a familiar figure lurking on the fringes of his vision. The sight was abnormal enough that her name was blurted from his mouth before he could stop himself.
"Bev?"The woman looked a little out of sorts - clothing just a touch too scruffy for her. Even with the time of day,
late, and the possible day she might have endured, hard,
it wasn't her
enough to be anything other than...
off.
His anger reduced to a simmer and there was a creeping sense of surprise that was tinged just a little with unease. Will might have blamed his paranoid nature - one only worsened with the incidents with Jack and Ripper Lite - but when his former colleague offered him a smile that was a little too thin to be genuine, Will had to refrain from swapping glances with his monster, to see if he'd noticed the expression too. It made his hackles raise just a little and, if there was anything Will
knew, it was that with his hobbies (and the company he kept), ignoring his gut was a catastrophe waiting to happen."Will," she said, bright (too bright). "Fancy meeting you here."She even sounded off.
"How are you?" Will asked, arousal gone in an instant and instead replaced with a sense of uncertainty he didn't know what to do with. Bev wasn't a good poker player, but Will wasn't sure why she was even attempting to sit at the table.
"Well," Bev offered in reply. "My, uh, cousin, got tickets." She waved her keys in explanation. "I'm the unlucky, local and sober member of the family.""That's very kind of you Ms Katz," Hannibal interjected, face slipping rapidly from devious and teasing into placid - he was curious too, particularly when Bev's face flashed through several different emotions all too quick for either of them to note.
"Ah well," she waved a hand, as though to wave away the words. "Family, am I right?" She glanced back, towards the theatre. "I should let you get home," she said after a moment before another hesitation made her stop. "You are alright to go home, aren't you?" She added, eyes suddenly sharp and pinning Will in place.
"Fine," the ex-profiler replied, slow and deliberate. "Only a couple of glasses of champagne," he continued, like she'd been asking about their alcohol consumption and not whatever conspiracy was rattling around in her brain.
"Right," Bev smiled once more, still that half, fake sort of thing. "Well we have get together at some point, catch up. Coffee? Soon?""Sure," Will nodded. "It's a date."Bev jerked her head and grinned again before turning on her heel and striding away, back towards the pillars that lined the building. The pair watched her go.
"That was fucking weird right?" Will breathed, turning to look at the Lithuanian.
Hannibal hummed, thoughtful, and Will had an epiphany. "You don't think Jack said anything -?""Of course I do. Jack was nothing if not persistent," he murmured. "I'm just curious as to what has changed Ms Katz's mind. Or, at least, has given her enough doubt to seek us - seek you - out and lie about why she had done so.""No cousin?" Will asked, already knowing the answer.
"I am fairly certain Ms Katz was lying to us, yes.""Which means she came looking for us?""Or, she is following us," Hannibal replied.There was a silence, broken only by the ever growing sound of patrons spilling from the theatre and into the lobby. "I like Bev," Will said finally, tone sharp and holding little room for manoeuvring.
"I know you do, darling," was the only reply.
"Monster -""I will endeavour to think the best of Ms Katz, rather than the worst." It was a compromise. Halfway between killing first and asking questions later, and fleeing into the night.Their car was delivered then, effectively ending the conversation for the moment, although Will wondered just how many surprises Baltimore had in store for the pair of them.They settled in quickly to their seats quickly and Hannibal had peeled out of the parking lot before the next lot of guests had staggered their way to the valet's in hope of prying their keys away, pretending to be sober and sane and growing aggressive when responsibility won over customer service.
"Well that's killed the mood," Will huffed after a few moments of silence, dark road flickering under the street lamps stretching out before them.
Hannibal only laughed. "Will, with an appetite as voracious as yours my love, I struggle to see how the mood cannot be recovered."
The curly-haired man huffed. "We have more pressing matters, don't you think?" Mind beginning to run through just what was bothering Bev."Of course," Hannibal nodded, breaking into his mind and demanding attention in an instant. "Like how you intend to choke me with our playroom already packed away.""Insatiable bastard," he muttered fondly."I am but mortal, my love. Perhaps if you were less tempting..."A chuckle spluttered from his lips. "Are you seriously blaming me for you being a horny fuck?"Hannibal levelled him a glare that told him
exactly
where he believed the blame for their persistent and enduring lust lay, and it clearly didn't think it sat with himself.
Will let out a giggle at the audacity of the prissy European and found that once he started, he couldn't stop, not even when the Count shot him an unimpressed look (betrayed slightly by the humoured quirk of his lips).The blue eyed man laughed all the way home.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The morning Jack's parcel came, the UPS man woke her up early.
It was before 7am on a Saturday and, after the long gruelling shit-storm of the previous week, Bev wanted nothing more than to stay curled up in bed where the FBI's bad decisions and the countless lingering reporters couldn't get her. It was warm beneath her sheets, it was calm and it was devoid of serial killers.UPS was insistent though, ringing the bell three times before she finally trudged to the door, wrenching it open with a scowl, hair askew and probably flashing half a boob as the neckline of her top slipped down.
"Katz?" he asked, unfazed, and, when she nodded, handed over a touchscreen for her to half-heartedly scrawl a mimicry of her signature onto. Then he gave her the package - a small white box in a heavy-duty envelope - and disappeared down her drive.
In hindsight, she wished that she'd slept in. She wished she'd ignored him and that the thing had been sent back. It would have saved her a lot of trouble.After two cups of coffee and a slice of toast, she had finally turned to whatever Jack had sent her.There were only two things inside: a four sentence long letter and a memory stick.
If you're reading this Bev, then I'm dead.
He killed me because I knew the truth - about Chilton, about Alana.
Don't trust Hannibal Lecter.
Douglas always has good advice.
"What the fuck," she muttered, digging out her laptop and loading the memory stick, slurping on her drink as she did before groaning when the desktop finally pinged open.The files were encrypted.
Very encrypted.There was a box, clearly waiting for some sort of key or code, and there were thirteen empty squares to fill.
"Shit."It took her six days to understand the clue.
Jack was smart, but a straightforward man. He had his habits, he had his favourites, and he'd been at the Bureau for a long time. Students had always sort out the Guru, sliding up to him, all nervous energy and bashful youth. Hands fluttering around their books, they
asked the Guru for advice on careers, experience, anything that might help them make it in the cut-throat world of special agents.
"Douglas," he'd say, a rue smile on his face, "he gives good advice."She'd remembered, three glasses into a bottle of whiskey (an experience becoming dangerously close to routine in the past few weeks) and pitched forward so violently, she nearly fell out of her chair. "You sly bastard," she'd muttered, standing and stumbling over to her bookcase. A Guide To Careers In The FBI
by John E. Douglas. They all had a copy - at the guru's insistence, of course - and most had read it back to front, divining whatever wisdom they could from it. The clue was the book. Page numbers and chapter numbers were no help until her eyes drifted downwards, to the back cover and there -
The ISBN.
13 digits.978-0-684-85504-2Jack: smart, but straightforward.In hindsight, she wished she'd never worked it out.Police reports, crime scene photos, witness statements, bank statements, autopsy results, behaviour analysis, psychological profiling - there were more documents pertaining to the Ripper case on the stick than in the FBI hard-drives, Bev was sure. And Jack had gone through everything with a fine-tooth comb, plucking out the details that just didn't add up. A date here, an alibi there, added context scattered throughout.
The more she read, the more Chilton looked like a mis-step, a jigsaw piece that was so close to fitting but didn't quite click and had instead been forced into place. It made her stomach drop and her heart race.The alibis began to blur. Will and Hannibal were regularly each other's and, well, it was a little worrying given how many days the pair would be unaccounted for if they were covering for each other.
Time of death became
difficult. Was it possible that Chilton had driven four hours back to Baltimore from a psychiatrist's conference to murder someone, only to return to his hotel before breakfast? Yes, it was possible. But, as Jack highlighted, highly unlikely. This was a man supposedly exceeding comfortable in his ability to outmanoeuvre the police - surely he'd simply pick someone local and kill them if he felt the itch?Then, links between victims. They were tenuous, but present. One, a door-to-door salesmen who had, at some point, canvassed Hannibal's neighbourhood. Another bought their produce at the farmers' market that the Doctor regularly visited. Two more had been treated in the ER at a time when Hannibal was an emergency surgeon, when he had been scheduled to work shifts. It was thin, circumstantial and in places, reaching, but Jack hadn't manufactured it. The victims could, in theory, have found themselves face-to-face with Hannibal Lecter and done something to earn his ire.
And then, at the bottom of one of the pages, in bright red font, capitalised and put in bold, was the hypothesis that had turned Bev's stomach:
IS WILL THE RIPPER TOO?
Impossible, she'd thought.
But was it?Bev wasn't used to sneaking. She was a shoot from the hip type of girl. So, on her second attempt to trail the pair, to see if Jack's theories held any water, she was busted.
Will looked good.
He didn't look in distress, he didn't look coerced, he'd looked a little pissed off and rumpled, but maybe that was what going to the Opera did to him.
All in all, he looked like Will.
Which meant one of only two things.
1. Jack was wrong.
2. Jack was right, and Will knew, Will
helped.There were too many alibis given for him not to have known, too many lies to parrot to protect his partner and Will was smart. Plus, she reasoned, if anyone was able to make a murder look like an accident, then it was Will-fucking-Graham, a man who knew the minds of monsters and deconstructed death in a heartbeat. In truth there was no one better to make a murder read as anything but.There was no car on the drive the night Bev decided to just bite the bullet and break into the town house. It took only moments to jimmy the lock and let herself in through the back door.The place smelt sterile, cleaner than a hospital, as if the entire house had undergone a deep clean with too much bleach and lye. It set her teeth on edge and she was sucked into memories of a scene she'd once visited. A botched kill by a fledgling serial killer her first year on the task force. The man had lost himself in the kill, hacking apart the victim and spraying blood across the walls. He'd tried to clean up but all that he'd managed to do was spread his mess, gore tracked from room to room until they could taste the iron and the stench of the chemicals in the bleach was so strong it had given them nose bleeds. The smell didn't dissipate the further into the house she moved and when she stepped into the kitchen, the quiet part of her mind that wished with everything she had that her friend was just a man, not a monster, told her that there was the reason for the overwhelming smell. A dark, deep pool of red ringed part of the island and some of the floor, like paint spread out on white canvas. It appeared the marble had drawn in as much of Jack's blood as it could before investigators finally allowed Hannibal and Will to take a sponge to their kitchen floor.She couldn't help but notice, too, the vacant spaces lingering around her, loud in their absence, and the multitude of dust sheets. It seemed there was no room still clinging to remnants of a life before storage. They were leaving, she realised. There was a lot of bad memories, potentially, to leave behind
but...
But...
She was there to sate the beyond-the-grave obligation that Jack had given her - his final piece of homework he'd blackmailed her into. His ghost, resting on her shoulder, begging her to look, to see, to learn the truth. But nothing about the town house screamed murder den (although the cleverness of the Ripper had always been evident in the crimes he committed and the way he so easily dodged their attempts to thwart him, meaning he wouldn't just leave evidence lying around to be found). In truth, Bev knew there would be nothing there that might help build a case even if Jack had been right. Short of a confession written on the wall in blood, Bev was shit out of luck. She knew, too, that the evidence accumulated by her former boss would barely encourage arrest, let alone prosecution. Circumstantial evidence did not a case make.Things may have been neater, clearer even, if she viewed the Ripper's crimes, and the events that had taken place over the previous few months, not as a lone wolf but as a pair of intelligent psychopaths playing a game. Yet even clearer, her view was still murky. Jack's motive for them never really extended past just because, and Bev had spent too many hours sharing stories and teasing Will over coffee to think him capable of such horror for the
fun of it.Still, she couldn't ignore the picture beginning to form, nor the new, speculative information that Jack had flagged.Because there had been other things on that memory stick.
Crimes that tracked over Will's time in Wolf Trap. There were accidents that were a little too coincidental: people who got off on technicalities later found at the bottom of a ravine after a "break failure", body broken so badly it took fifteen days to finalise the identification; or evidence of domestic and sexual abuse laid out beside a husband who had apparently decided to hang himself one night when the kids were out with their mother, despite earning a promotion at work the day before.Jack never directly placed the blame with Will - there wasn't even a shred of evidence - but even if the man hadn't, the seed was sown.Which left her with two choices.1. She could keep digging, keep looking, see if Jack's hunch that Will was more than just a victim was right. It was probably the right thing to do. Justice was her job after all and Jack deserved to have his killers brought before a court and his own name cleared.
or
2. She could write off the files as the ramblings of a mad man, one that even in death seemed determined to prove himself right. It was the easy option and, with Jack's track record, most would consider to be the best one.Bev heaved out a sigh and let herself out, fixing the lock as best she could on the way out, praying that neither Will nor Hannibal would notice the scratches on the door frame.She felt defeated and she felt cornered. After all, what move did she have left? Where could she go next, who could she turn too?There was nothing there and no one who valued their career would touch this with a ten-foot-pole.
No murder cave, no box of receipts contradicting their stories, no evidence, no reason to believe beyond putting a tortured soul to rest.
In fact, she hummed, eyes casting back over her shoulder at the garden, there was something else missing. There were no dogs.
No dogs.
How had she missed that?
Shit.
How had she missed that they'd already left?No goodbye, no number left to catch up.
A clean break.
Her thumb absentmindedly ran along the edge of the memory stick as she trotted back down the road and finally clambered back into her car. Even gone, she was still committing a crime and this was a neighbourhood more likely to call the police than not.A clean break.There simply wasn't enough proof. Jack may have believed in his theory enough to die for it, but Bev certainly didn't. This was Will. She may have been convinced if it were just Hannibal, maybe, but Will? This was the man who blushed and spluttered and looked up through his eyelashes. Will, who had been oblivious as his students attempted to flirt with him or asked him out on dates. Will, who was a big softie, who loved his dogs and rolled his eyes at her, and, and, and...Besides, she thought, Will had been roped into more psychiatric assessments than she had, and not one had said anything other than empathetic.
And what use was going public? Other than the certainty of being vilified as another obsessed FBI specialist,
if
Jack was right, she'd only be painting a target on her back. One that the Ripper would notice. Why would she poke a bear that had already left her territory? Hannibal was with Will now and whatever happened to them would be nothing to do with her.A clean break."Fuck this," she muttered, jerking the wheel and bringing the car to a stop on the bridge. She hopped out, leaving the engine running, and between two thoughts, she'd pulled the memory stick free and hurled it over the side, watching it splash into the murky water below.
She felt no guilt. Jack was gone and Bev just wanted to survive the storm he'd left behind.She was gone before it even hit the bottom.
* * *
After all they'd done - the death, the manipulation, the trickery - letting himself be pinned down in
God's House
shouldn't feel as morally wrong as it did, but the way Hannibal was leisurely fucking him, forcing the end of his cock into Will's prostate over and over and over again, the tiles of the skeleton mosaic digging into his back, all felt positively sinful.Will gasped around a particularly deep thrust and dragged his fingers through the sweat-soaked hair hanging down in Hannibal's eyes, drinking in the adoration in his lover's gaze.Their suits were rumpled messes tossed haphazardly over a nearby pew and the flicker of five hastily lit candles cast an eerie glow over the chapel. They'd considered doing this in daylight, tucked out of sight in the catacombs while unknowing tourists trampled around overhead, chattering away and admiring the architecture, but Hannibal wanted this. He wanted Will laid out on cold tile, where he could see the clasped palms of a bone-man over his shoulder as he drove into him with long, languid strokes.So, some light breaking and entering in the evening it was.
"You're so good for me Little One," Hannibal crooned, breath hot in Will's ear, sweat sliding down his nose. "Always so good.""Yeah?" Will breathed back, fucked out and a little incoherent, but grinning around his bliss."Such a good boy," Hannibal affirmed.Will laughed breathlessly, delirious with adoration and lust and anticipation.
God
he loved this man. His darkness, his need to possess, his gore slick serenades, his love language of broken bodies and shredded flesh. He was a glutton for the love that oozed from Hannibal, in every glance he gave, in every caress, in every rough, skin mottling fuck, in every meal he served - be it pig or long pig. Will had never felt so precious, so desired, so certain in his status as the other half of another's soul.Hannibal ground in deep, pulling Will from his head and letting him drown in his blown pupils. "So good," Hannibal said again, panting raggedly. "Good enough to keep. Good enough to cherish, to possess," he snarled, pace quickening, the tile scraping the skin off Will's back with every rut forward. "Good enough to own, and to be, ah, owned by. My good boy. My Little One. Darling, you are good enough to eat." His face was contorted into a sharp and feral grin, mindless with sensation. "I'm going to take you apart in every country I can mylimasis," he swore, "and build monuments of my love when we are done."The blue eyed man grinned and shifted his grip on the ex-Ripper's neck until he couldn't clutch tighter without cutting off Hannibal's air supply. He hiked his legs up further and wound them tight around the European's waist, heels digging into his back and smiling at the snarl his actions earned. Something primal slinked over his features and he leaned forward as far as he could, craning to put his lips to his lover's ear."Promises, promises, monster," he whispered. Then he sank his teeth into Hannibal's neck.