Work Text:
Take my hand
Take my whole life too
For I can't help
Falling in love with you
(Elvis Presley - Can't Help Falling In Love With You)
The moment Hannibals saw Will Graham he knew he was doomed. He felt it deep in his bones; that feeling he only gets when he has his hands full of blood, deep in someone's body. The first time Will Graham looked into his eyes, ironically explaining why he hates eye contact, he felt that that man was going to be his ruin. And when Will said that he didn't found him that interesting, he was instantly gone for the man.
The fact was, Hannibal never expected to fall so intensily for someone. This feeling, isn't a concept he's familiar with. The only time he felt something similar was with Bedelia, however this is something new; something that consumed him overtime. He would close his office door and spend one uninterrupted hour with Will, sitting in front of him, confessing his fears about the darkest places inside his head.
He was not used to dreams. Night after night he would go to sleep and falls into total darkness; an endless night for hours until the sun was up. The first night Will was arrested was the first time Hannibal dreamed about him. He woke up breathing hard, heart beating fast and with the image of a dead Will behind his eyes. He did not know how to feel about it.
He had not seen Will for a long time after that. Not after putting him behind bars. The fact was, they needed distance from each other. Hannibal needed to think and reevaluate what he expected from Will... from them. Needless to say it out loud, Will knew that as well. He knew the truth about what lays inside Hannibal; his true-self, and still he wasn't running away from him. If fact, without even notice, Will was running directly to him, and Hannibal loved it. A little too much.
When Will showed up at his door, one day after being released from the Baltimore State Hospital, his heart gave a painful twitch at the view: he had got a haircut and his beard was thicker, besides the look on his face showed Hannibal that the man before him was not the same. Will was growing into something else like a sculpture being modeled by his hands and he couldn't wait to see the final result.
He sat there, and even if they were having a deep conversation, Hannibal's mind started to wonder about how beautiful the man in front of him was and how he missed him. Missed him like an addicted; like he went too long without killing and felt the need to put his hands inside the body in front of him and feel the warm blood on his hands, with a beating heart on his palm. He wanted to open Will up in every form possible, physically and mentally.
- Don't lie to me. - He asked He couldn't. Not anymore, not right now, not to him. But he couldn't be exposed like that, more than he already was to him.
There was something in the air and he was feeling it pouring out, from Will, to his direction. More than his words. An anticipation to tell Hannibal that something was going to change before the end of their session.
- Will you return the courtesy? - he asks. They're at the edge here. A turning point; the truth before them and Hannibal needs to know what is gonna happen from now on so he can be fully in control again. He's gonna push Will, however, is he going to fall with him or alone?
Hannibal sees Will's throat work. He wants to cut it open to let the words out. He also wants to put his hands there and press until Will's eyes roll back. And a part of him wants to kiss it until his own lips are burned by Will's beard. He smiles lightly. Will's eyes are in his mouth.
They're at the edge together. What are they gonna do from here?
- Do you fantasize about killing me? - There's more behind the interrogation point. Do you fantasize about me at all, like I do to you? The dark on the eyes looking back at him tell him he didn't need to say out loud to be heard.
- Yes.
The hair on his arms stand up. The arousement in the air filling his senses as they stay still. Looking, feeling, teasing.
- Tell me, how would you do it?
Will shift on his seat.
- With my hands.
Hannibal feels his blood run hot in his veins. He wants it. He never imagined a way to die. He knew that a day or another it would happen, but it was an abstract in the future. Yet in that moment Hannibal knew that if he could choose it would be like this... by Will's hands.
- I discovered the truth about my self when I tried to have you killed.
It would not be the same, Will. He wanted to say that to him but he was sure the man already knew that. There was nothing like doing it yourself. Hannibal could see him fighting the feeling. Don't fight, Will. Let yourself feel, like I'm doing with you.
- I need to know if you're going to try to kill me again, Will. - At this point he didn't know anymore if he was able to stop him; desperate for the mere opportunity to feel Will's touch on his skin.
Will is looking through him. - I don't wanna kill you anymore, Doctor Lecter. -Hannibal thinks he appears powerful like this, with desire and anger looking good on him. Will continues. - Not right now that I finally find you interesting.
Something settle on Hannibal's gut, he can't help but smile. He never wanted someone this much, and, for the first time, he does not even know what to do with the person.
But if he's gonna jump, he's gonna bring Will with him.
- Show me how would you do it.
Will's jaw flexs, his hands closes on fists. Don't fight it, Hannibal thinks, don't fight it.
He sees the moment the man's full body before him relaxes and mirrors his smile. That's Will Hannigram's raw form in front of him. He's so beautiful that makes Hannibal wants to kill something just to give him it's heart.
Will stands up from his place and walks quietly until he's in front of Hannibal. The doctor just sits back, arms resting on the armchair, legs slightly open that fits Will's well enough when he gets closer.
- What would I do to you, Doctor Lecter? - He rhetorically thinks out loud.
Hannibal answers anyway. - Wherever you want, agent Graham.
Will smiles in that way that makes his upper lip twitch. Slowly, he takes off his coat and drops it at the side of Hannibal's chair. He didn't miss the look in the man's eyes to the fact that he was disturbing the immaculate order of the office. Then he opens the first two buttons of his shirt, and pulls he sleeves up to his elbows. It is so meticulously done, that it reminds Hannibal of his little ritual before preparing someone for dinner.
- Take yours off, too. - Will says, so he does. Watching Will take control is as appealing as contemplating art.
All his body comes alive when Will sits over his lap, knees at each side of his hips, and just stays there.
Will thinks that he never saw Hannibal Lecter heavy breathing before. It's not that hard but his mouth is slightly open while looking up at him with dark eyes. This man, who did everything he could to him, controlled and manipulated him. It's funny how hate and lust can hold hands when you let them; the explosive potential of it. He feels as if he could kill and fuck Hannibal Lecter at the same time.
Hannibal tips his head back a little when he feels hands on his neck. Both with thumbs pressing at he hollow taking his breath away. C'mon, Will, what's your limit?
He lets it, Will's full weight press down on him when he grabs his hips with both hands making theirs semi erect length grind down on each other.
Their weak moans echoes in the room. Will starts moving as he holds Hannibal's breath on his hands. Pressing enough so the doctor can't make a sound. The harder he presses his fingers, the harder he presses his hips. They're both fully hard, at the point color starts to rise on Hannibal's cheeks.
- I dreamed about killing you every day since I've met you. - Will confess breathless. - And, since I discovered who you really are, it only got worse.
Tell me, Will. Tell me everything about it. We wanted to say but couldn't, not with Will all over him.
He closes his eyes.
- One night - Will continues - I dreamed about eating you alive. I woke up hard.
Will feels, under his hands, Hannibal's throat trembling with moans he can't let out. The fingers on his waist will leave marks. Hannibal's marks on him. He moans too.
- You like that, don't you, doctor? Knowing that I desire you so much that I need you inside me in every way possible?
Hannibal opens his eyes and looks at Will's face, into the blue getting lost surrounded by the black. The corners of Hannibal's views are getting dark. His head is light and he's at the edge with Will. They're gonna fall.
- Fuck. - Will says, - I can't blame you, because I would probably let you do it to me, too. Let you taste me all you want.
Hannibal falls. His whole body tensing, his back arching. He runs his fingers over Will's shirt and wants to rip it, so there would be nothing between them.
Will feels like dying, and he never felt better than when watching Hannibal's eyes loose its focus. But he doesn't want to loose him... not right now. He wants Hannibal being able to talk to him, and to listen wherever his smart arrogant mouth has something to say. He lets go of his neck and goes to his hair instead, holding the doctor in the place. Before Hannibal can say anything, Will kisses him.
Hannibal is aware that the sound they both make sounds a lot like starving men eating their favorite meal. Will's beard is scratching his face as he tastes Hannibal's tongue. Will's hips start loosing their rhythm. Hannibal wants to give him what he needs.
He puts his hand on Will's neck to break the kiss. -You'redoing so good, boy. - He says. Will's head falls back, his throat at display, like a gift. Hannibal bites him. Slowly pressing his teeth until he tastes blood. Will's blood on his tongue. He could devore him right now. -Let go, Will. Embrace it and come for me.
Hannibal feels Will falling with him. The wet spot in front of his pants matching Hannibal's, painting their own masterpiece.
When Will looks back at him, Hannibal has his bottom lip painted red. Doctor Lecter smiles at him and says - You are the best thing I ever tasted.
Will never heard more beautiful words. He, then, licks Hannibal's lips clean.