Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I feel
The steady pull of things that I can’t see
And I like it”
-Jonatha Brooke

***

Will hurried into the house and cringed when he accidentally let the screen door slam shut behind him. Even though the noise wasn’t that loud, and from the smell of savory food cooking, Will realized his lover was most likely a few rooms away in the kitchen – well, he just knew Hannibal heard it.

Frustrated, Will cut a quick path through to the kitchen. Might as well get this over with.

“I’m sorry about the door slamming,” he blurted as soon as he saw Hannibal, who was laboring over intricate appetizers for the dinner party they were having that evening.

Hannibal said nothing, but looked up to give Will a sternly questioning look.

“Well?” Will groaned.

“Well, is that all you’re sorry for? It’s seven fifteen, William.”

William? That’s just never a good sign. Goddamn it all…

Will raked a hand through his messy curls, accidentally making the situation up there worse with a streak of oil. “I’m – oh, shit, I lost track of time fixing the boat. I thought it was earlier. Sorry. I promise I’ll make myself presentable for your guests.”

Hannibal, who wore a maroon shirt with a shiny texture and a black waistcoat, plus his white apron and smooth black suit pants, repeated the “I am not pleased” look.

“I’m delighted to hear it,” Hannibal said drily, stirring a pot of sauce and then starting to chop vegetables for another delicacy he was working on.

His handsome amber eyes tracked quickly up and down Will’s figure and he gave the world’s smallest, most irritating shake of his head.

Will glanced down and almost couldn’t blame him. Not only was Will still wearing his old red flannel shirt slung over a stained white tee and equally ancient, faded jeans, but there was oil from his labor in the garage on his hands and in his hair.

“Given that you will barely have enough time to wash up and change before our guests arrive, your confidence is reassuring.” Primly, Hannibal washed his hands and dried them before shutting off the stove’s burners and giving Will another pointed look.

“How dare you?” Hannibal asked with a smile that looked involuntary. The softness of his tone surprised the younger man. He went to Will and cupped his face.

“How dare I show up late and look like a disaster when things are already tense because we had a weird, unresolved argument last night?” Will asked, baffled.

Hannibal nodded, stroking Will’s cheek. “If you could see the adorable flush in your cheeks and how bright your eyes are, how that dreadful apparel makes your body look obscenely delicious, I think you would better understand my everlasting conundrum.”

Will blushed more deeply. Was Hannibal still mad or not? Was he still mad at Hannibal, for that matter?

It was hard to be mad when Hannibal looked that gorgeous, hair neatly slicked back, his proper outfit just needing his perfect suit jacket to complete it before the doorbell started ringing in a little while. Such a man, everything in the world that was desirable and amazing, and Will was really just supposed to accept – without suspicion, insecurity or shock – he was all Will’s?

“Thank you?” Will ventured nervously, thinking Hannibal’s enticing warmth and sexy cologne should be illegal; they always hit him like a drug and took away his common sense. “Sorry?”

“That will do for now, darling. Come with me, please, I have a gift for you. It’s for tonight.” Hannibal shot him a pleased, but mysterious little smile that made Will want to kiss him and drag him to bed, and also shake him, demanding answers.

The conundrum went both ways, but he guessed that was a good thing.

Will trailed Hannibal to the bedroom and raised his eyebrows to see the wrapped gift box sitting beside a designer suit, which was doubtless tailored precisely to Will’s measurements. It was a velvety, dark blue fabric, and he marveled at the softness, while positive it was going to cling to him like a second skin. Typical Hannibal.

Blinking up at his lover in slow surprise, Will asked, “For me, really? I mean. We never really resolved that argument last night, since I’m pretty sure angry sex doesn’t close a subject that needs hashing out…and you just looked so mad at me again when I came home...I wasn’t exactly thinking you were going to give me any presents.”

Hannibal remained bright and encouraging now, as if calmly forgiving. “A typical lover’s squabble, surely. I don’t like how Frederick Chilton speaks to you and how close he tries to be to you when in the same room. I would prefer to kill him as soon as possible, but barring that, I’d ask that you try harder to maintain proper boundaries.”

Will sighed. He sat down next to his expensive, luxurious presents and rubbed his face. There was no point asking Hannibal if he ever listened to himself when he said things like that.

Instead, Will replied, “I don’t give a damn about Chilton, although it didn’t escape my notice you deliberately invited him to the party tonight, most likely hoping I’d let you kill him afterwards. You know it’s too big a risk, killing a colleague in your own home, you’re letting your temper run away with you. It’s the principle of the thing for me, above anything else. I don’t feel heard.”

Hannibal smiled stiffly. “Clearly, you would protect Frederick at all costs.”

Will grimaced. “Clearly, you and Alana are such good, close, personal, special friends,” he retorted, hand on his heart, resuming the disagreement from last night, although this time, they weren’t being aggressive.

Forgiveness and a general weariness of the rare little fight between them shone in their eyes and came out in their tone, where wry humor now mixed with more lowly-simmering annoyance. Will felt like they were an old, married couple at that moment.

“My friendship with Alana predates meeting you, my love, but is no threat to your place in my life, which is at the top of my list, the only human being in all my travels and adventures who has ever had me completely. I believe that should be sufficient without me severing ties with a decade-long friendship.”

“Mmmhmm,” Will agreed, tapping his fingers on his knee. “Seems like a deadlock, given that you’re not exactly gonna let me kill Alana, so it isn’t fair for you to kill Frederick, whether I think he’s a feather headed nuisance or not.”

Okay. So maybe Will was by now about as quick to jump right to murder as a problem-solving tactic as his lover.

Truth be told, when it came to Chilton, he thought it was only fair that someone good-looking should be pursuing him with equally transparent passive-aggressiveness to Alana’s “harmless occasional remarks.” It had several times been the only factor holding Will’s own temper in check.

Hannibal admitted, “I had assumed as much, and therefore, I’m suggesting another approach. I want tonight to be special for us, our first time co-hosting a party in our home as a couple. Everyone who comes to this dinner, including Alana and Frederick, we will simply treat as a guest, suspending all petty suspicions and trusting one another. Perhaps we can get past this little bump in the road by letting the subject lie and remembering who it is we each truly love and value.”

“Each other,” Will nodded. “Yes. I don’t want to fight about it anymore. Are you really gonna let it go? And you’re seriously not mad at me for running late, being careless and coming in looking like a local cable access, low-budget commercial for a free oil change?”

Hannibal greeted the joke with a fond chuckle and neatly ignored the question.

“Open your gift,” He prodded, sitting beside Will, playfully bumping shoulders. “It will go splendidly with your new suit. I want us to make the most of all we can gain and enjoy from this momentous occasion, sweetheart.”

Will bit his lip. He always melted at “sweetheart,” and Hannibal damn well knew it. Alright, if Hannibal was offering to let the silly argument go, Will figured it was for the best. He was so grateful that the older man wasn’t angry with him and had gotten over it all smoothly, yet he almost suspected something else might be going on in his gorgeous boyfriend’s brilliant, evil mind. Could this be too good to be true? But really, it wasn’t nice not to take Hannibal at his word when he was being perfectly generous about the matter.

“Oh, wow,” Will laughed when he opened the present and discovered a fancy new butt plug inside. “I’ll give you this much, you, uh, sure know how to move on from an argument. One look at this and I’m so far from thinking about anything but you and me, it’s unbelievable.”

“I want you to wear it tonight,” Hannibal smiled serenely. “All night. Put it in after your shower. You’ll find it goes quite deep and will stretch you well, providing an enjoyable stimulation. It will delight me to know you’re wearing it for me.”

Will felt his face going downright red now. “Wear this and feel it stretching me, inching towards my…you know, while we’re greeting guests and eating dinner and drinking wine and I’m having to be sociable?”

“Do you have a problem with that?” Hannibal had a very dominant look on his face, intimidating Will into accepting what actually intrigued him a great deal, even if he was also feeling embarrassed and shy about it.

Plus, Will wanted to make his lover happy, especially now, when Hannibal had been so understanding and accommodating.

“No, no problem,” Will said slowly, meeting Hannibal’s gaze and shivering. “I already feel uncomfortably hot and bothered, and it isn’t even in me yet. So consider yourself warned if I should make a few quiet, involuntary moaning noises throughout the dinner. I’ll do my best to play them off as enjoyment of your doubtless amazing feast.”

“You do that, my dear,” Hannibal said, a teasing look on his face now. And something hidden behind his cheerful expression and dark eyes. “And we’ll know.”

“We’ll know,” Will agreed with another soft laugh. “Okay.”

***

In the shower, Will thought some more about the situation. He couldn’t deny, even if Hannibal’s breezy behavior was unexpected, this twist in the evening was turning him on a lot.

Maybe Hannibal was just horny, too; they both tended to feel that way whenever they were together, so Will found it believable this was the case. He liked how excited Hannibal seemed to be about knowing Will was wearing the plug for him. Will even loved how his own submission felt – really, it reminded him – he was his Daddy’s special boy, Hannibal’s property. To be pleasured even among guests, whenever his handsome, powerful dominant chose.

The scenario was constructed so that their little secret could be slyly enjoyed by just the two of them. After all, it wasn't as if Hannibal expected Will to crawl to him, sit by his feet at dinner, or call him Daddy in mixed company. Their specific, profoundly kinky sex life was still private, as Will felt it should be.

It all seemed like innocent enough fun, and it was a good idea to give him something else to think about during the few hours of otherwise difficult socializing that awaited Will.

He toweled off with a few brisk pats, eager by now to feel the big, smooth, golden plug slipping into his tight hole to get him ready for Hannibal’s use later on, after the guests went home. It was hard not to touch his already aching dick when he lubed the toy up and carefully pressed it inside. The round largeness of it, while perfectly safe and nothing too crazy, made it the biggest plug he had ever tried. At the same time, the base of the plug was designed so he could sit comfortably (or as comfortably as one could, given how intensely the toy teased and pleasured him).

The result of this factor soon became blissfully, tormentingly obvious, as the bliss of being gradually penetrated by the wonderful plug and then getting to keep it there, keep this exquisite feeling of fullness, went to Will’s cock and stiffened it.

He glanced down at his own raging hard-on and almost wanted to console it.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” he muttered, going into the bedroom to put his underwear and suit on, then spritz some cologne, the kind Hannibal liked best on his skin. But, it’s well worth it. “Oh, fuck…”

His eyes rolled back, as the plug seemed to shift inside him with even his tiniest movements, pressing his prostate now and then, driving him crazy.

It would require so little effort to come from nothing but this divine toy inside him. The sleek, golden plug with the design of a bold red rose etched into the base was doing him like Will could not believe. He knew if he just started moving it in and out at the right angle, he’d come so hard he’d cry as his vision blurred.

But he made himself think about how much harder he’d come later at Hannibal’s command and big, beautiful hands, and held back.

Was this some kind of small, coy “vengeance” on his lover’s part for the ridiculous fight they had, both of them jealous, petty and out of line? Wearing this plug all night was a treat for sure, but Will was going to suffer, too. He was fine with all of that, actually…more than fine.

He was sure he could be a good boy for Hannibal and prove he could be a capable co-host, keep the romance and seductive chemistry sizzling between them, and be on best manners tonight. What could be so difficult about that, after all?

A little bit of socializing and mild sexual humiliation in front of people they knew was nothing compared to the pleasure that awaited Will later, if he could simply behave. He was determined to make sure he behaved even more excellently than ever before. Hannibal would be proud. And very much inclined to reward him…at length.

***

When he came into the dining room, Will sucked in a breath. The place looked astonishingly gorgeous in Hannibal’s favorite gothic, dark style. The centerpiece with its ripe, split-open dragon fruit and huge, exotic black flowers, was lavish. The sparkling candles were ethereally pretty and the long, smooth tablecloth with its pattern of golden ravens complemented everything so well.

Hannibal had informed Will earlier that the flowers were called “Onyx Odyssey,” which Will had refused to believe until his lover showed him the fact of it online. Of course, there would be such flowers and Hannibal would find them.

The gold-rimmed plates, glasses and utensils, which were nearly the finest in Hannibal’s impressive collection, were all placed where they were meant to be in the finest, most high-end of eating establishments.

Once, Will told Hannibal that if this house was a restaurant, it would be a five star one. Hannibal had blushed and that was enough to make Will show him what else he could earn five stars for.

The sentimental thought made Will feel bad that everything was already set up, or so it seemed.

“Hannibal, is there anything else I can do to get things ready before they all arrive?” Will asked.

Hannibal, resplendent as expected in his full, impeccable suit, shook his head. “Not especially, my dear. As you know, I don’t care for last minute finishing touches; all of this was done a few hours ago, except the candles which I’ve just lit.”

Will could have kicked himself. Hannibal had asked him to be back by five thirty and he’d come fumbling in at seven fifteen. He’d set the alarm on his wristwatch, but the batteries must have died. Dammit…

“I should have been here to help, I wish I had been.”

“Don’t worry, Will.” Hannibal patted his cheek. “It will all come full circle soon enough.”

***

Will thought the worst part of a social gathering was the part where he had to say hi to everyone (in this case, despite seeing most of them every day at work) and take their coats, and then find out what they wanted to drink and try not to mess that up. The small talk over pre-dinner drinks wasn’t much of an improvement.

Sure, it was mostly people he basically liked. With the exception of Alana, who Will had gone sour on a few months back when he fell for Hannibal and disliked their apparently close friendship, the guests were all fine with him. Chilton was obnoxious and clearly had a thing for Will, but he hadn’t pushed it past mild flirtation and Will had never given him a single sign that anything in that realm whatsoever would be encouraged.

Everyone else was a friend: Jack, Bella, Beverly, Brian and Jimmy were here, outnumbering the small awkwardness of the two people who Hannibal and Will had gotten unreasonably suspicious over. Having to smile and pretend he didn’t want to rip Alana’s throat out for knowing Hannibal longer than him and mentioning it so fucking often was no big deal.

The guests and their hosts stood in a circle of chatter in the library, everyone holding their glass of wine and smiling. Will kept getting distracted by the fit of Hannibal’s suit, the wicked gleam in his eyes, and of course, the plug, altogether too pleasurable to be wearing on such an occasion. He could barely hide how good it felt, and had already sipped his wine twice to cover up helpless, quiet moans of surprise and satisfaction when the toy shifted inside him.

Thank God the new blue suit Will was wearing was not only soft and comfortable (although as form-fitting as expected, with a low-cut shirt beneath it, too) but had a thin fabric to it. He didn’t need to drown in his own sweat from the excessive stimulation he was enduring.

He knew Hannibal was enjoying “the show” of Will’s silent struggle, perhaps even more than this party which he’d put such effort into.

Although all the attention bolstered his pride and confidence in being the first, most important one in Hannibal’s life and heart, the truth was that Will had never been that to anyone before in his whole existence. This made it too easy to doubt Hannibal’s feelings were as deep and loyal as his own. He was always just a tiny bit afraid his lover would be tempted away by another, or simply lose interest in him for any of his countless flaws.

If Hannibal had wanted a partner who made a competent and polished co-host for fancy dinner parties, Alana Bloom would have been a far better choice. And to reinforce Will’s uncomfortable awareness of the fact, plus how close she and Hannibal had come to dating “back in the day,” she had once again managed to slip one of her “Stories” into the flow of conversation.

Her stories about special times shared with Hannibal-before-Will included “inside jokes” and other nuances only the two of them understood, and they stoked the murderous rage in Will like nothing else.

He could have shattered the glass in his hand when she said, “oh, Hannibal,” hand on his arm, Will was going to chop it off, “Remember at University when Dr. Lennix guest-lectured on social exclusion? I’ve never heard someone present theories so preposterous!”

Will thought Alana’s wrap dress was so boring and her red nail polish was tacky. But that only comforted him a little; her beauty and sparkling personality were undeniable.

“Yes, it was a disappointing lecture, but the food was far more so. The cheese board was as limited as Dr. Lennix’s capacity for psychoanalysis.” Hannibal laughed. He showed no offense at her overly personal, if brief touch, right in front of Will.

These small conversations, which were enjoyed casually by the Crawfords and the forensic team as if totally innocent, made it seem as though Will did not even exist.

He glared at Alana, about ready to give her a piece of his mind she’d not soon forget, polite gathering and Hannibal’s orders on the matter be damned. But right when he opened his mouth to verbally decimate her, he felt the plug inside him vibrate, hard.

“Ah!” Will cried softly, grabbing the edge of the mantle to steady himself. His knuckles whitened on the wooden surface as he held on for dear life, feeling like a tiny boat rocked by a massive storm out of nowhere.

The others asked if he was okay, but Hannibal was far too amused. Although he feigned the same concern for Will, it was obviously a sham and his eyes were glittering with mischief. He also had one hand in his pocket…

The bastard!

“Wine just went down the wrong way,” Will said, a weird haziness in his eyes. That buzz had felt like being drowned for several moments in pleasure and then having it abruptly ripped away from him. A beautiful, terrible, humiliating feeling.

“Will, you really must take better care of yourself,” Frederick commented, his eyes reflecting more desire than real worry. He moved closer to Will and put a hand on his shoulder. “Slow down…savor your drink. You deserve to enjoy it thoroughly.”

Will was going to shift away, except that he was irritated with Hannibal's hypocrisy. He knew the consequences, but he let Chilton briefly massage his shoulder in comfort.

At the same time, he shot Hannibal a wicked glance to rival any of the man’s own. At least someone cares if I’m okay instead of fucking with me all the time for entertainment, his blazing blue eyes said.

BUZZ. BUZZZZZZZZZ. The vibrations deep inside Will, sending shockwaves of more sustained bliss this time, were silent, due to the very nature of where the toy was. But they were so intense and powerful, he thought he might faint.

“Thank you, Dr. Chilton,” he said with a lopsided smile, starting to sweat. “I’ll be fine.”

***

In the kitchen, where Will had offered to “help Hannibal gather the food for the first course,” he confronted his lover angrily, keeping his tone hushed.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Whatever I want to do, with what is mine, William.” Hannibal’s eyes did not recommend rebellion, and nor did they show any regret for Will’s sufferings. “Are you mine?”

Will objected, “You know I am. Why is it never good enough?”

Hannibal put one hand on Will’s throat and lightly squeezed, watching with approval when the younger man’s eyes widened. “Because I love you. I can never get enough of you, darling, so I will always try to take too much. What a coincidental advantage that you happen to enjoy being intimidated, overwhelmed, and shown off.”

He had the nerve to let go of Will like his hand was never there, and go on tending to the food, as if the subject was closed for now, and that was all there was to it.

“A little presumptuous of you, Dr. Lecter,” Will retorted. He rolled his eyes, blushed and added, “And I love you, too. Even if you know damn well Alana Bloom wants to guest lecture in your freaking bed and tries to use all these cute little stories of your shared history to push me out of the way.”

“Hmm. Considering how handsy you let Frederick get, and how much you allow your own paranoias regarding Alana to become overblown, it’s hard to select a more appalling hypocrisy.”

“Well, choose your own adventure, then.” Will smirked darkly. “So, is the vibration, ahem, a punishment?”

“Of sorts,” Hannibal admitted. “Perhaps I am still a bit upset regarding our disagreement, then your lateness and neglect of your responsibilities for the party, et cetera. You most certainly need to be put back in line, shown you will behave or suffer the consequences, and reminded, after your unfortunate suspicions to the contrary, to whom you permanently belong.”

“Are you denying it’s also fun for you, and amusing?”

“Don’t forget highly arousing. In fact, my frustration and hunger to better master and tame you only makes the experience more so.”

“That’s…” Will groaned, realizing Hannibal’s words were almost as potent as the damn vibrator. “What if I take it out? It’s just totally unreasonable, expecting me to go the whole rest of the night with you torturing me and making a display of me like I’m a hapless little whore. You know that.”

“Oh, I do. I simply don’t care, my dear. You will learn not to care either, and nor to concern yourself with matters which I have well in hand. If I am teaching you a lesson, you need to learn it, and should devote yourself accordingly to the endeavor. I know you wish to please me. The way to do so is to prove you believe and trust I know what is best for you. Tonight, you will be my hapless little whore, and no one was ever a lovelier one.”

Will’s eyes narrowed. “You’re ruthlessly demanding.”

“You bring it out in me. And incidentally, do not waste your breath pretending the formal setting and guests around you are not heightening your erotic stimulation. We both know you enjoy it profoundly.”

“Hannibal,” Will pouted, “That may be true, but this is going too far. I can’t do it.”

“Darling, have more faith in yourself. I have all the faith in the world in you and always will. Perhaps more relevant to the point, if you remove the plug, I will make sure you don’t come for a month. This will involve me subjecting you to countless arousing sensations in our playroom, only to stop you cruelly right before you climax. Over and over. Every day and night for weeks until the only words you remember are ‘Daddy please.’”

“Is that your preferred scenario? As you so thrive on being a merciless control freak where I’m concerned.”

“It is not. My preferred scenario is for you to stop whining and make me happy by being the good boy I know you can be, and take your punishment with dignity. The rewards which will follow are going to make you just as happy, I promise.”

“DIG–Dignity?” Will lowered his voice after getting a stern look from his lover. “Are you kidding? Dignity while you’re doing that to me? In front of them?”

“I’m not kidding. I believe I’ve been almost overly clear on the subject. Now, shall we?”

Will fumed as Hannibal picked up a silver tray loaded with half of the plates full of food. He picked up his own tray and pushed the door to the dining room open with his back, holding it for his lover automatically.

Mumbling a few choice curses, Will swallowed back another moan when his movements made the plug move a little, brushing the sweet spot.

“What was that, darling?” Hannibal smiled.

“Yes, Daddy,” Will whispered, “Anything you say, Daddy.”

“That’s what I thought.”

***

The rest of the dinner was as much of a disaster as Will might have guessed. He had a hard time focusing on anything but Hannibal’s orders and how much control the older man had over him, how it humiliated and excited him. Several times he forgot to pay attention to the ongoing conversation. BUZZ. And a few times his table manners slipped into imperfection due to his overwhelmed state. BUZZ BBUUZZZZ BUZZZ.

Will had already come by the time the second course was due, as he prayed no one but Hannibal could smell it on him. So embarrassing, spilling in his underpants at the dinner table. The feeling was so outstanding that it wiped out all other thought for the long moments of sweeping, all-encompassing pleasure that took him over. Therefore, when he was orgasming, he didn’t care about the people around them, except that it turned him on even more, and he did not return somewhat back to his senses until several minutes later.

Hannibal began decreasing the time between Will’s lapses into this particular headspace. By the third course, Will had come as many times, and was dizzily clinging to the table, making pathetic, wan excuses for his odd behavior.

“Don’t mind me, I’m a little tired,” he smiled, trying not to look as pleasure-drunk and mortified as he felt.

“You’re also quite flushed,” Frederick frowned with more of his overly solicitous “concern.”

Oh, no – Will pulled away when Chilton moved to touch his face and see how warm he was, but while it must have pleased Hannibal, his panic was not called for by the level of mild insinuation.

“Goodness me,” Chilton laughed, “Anyone would think you have this lovely creature on a leash, Dr. Lecter. It’s perfectly safe, Will, my intentions are pure, I promise.”

His slimy smile made it clear this was not the case, and his comment about a leash made Will’s face go from scarlet to magenta. If any of these guests knew half of the kinky toys and accessories that filled his and Hannibal’s playroom downstairs…!

“Will, you really do look under the weather,” Jack put in, too busy enjoying the food to pay that much attention to anything else or be overly worried. “You’re perspiring and you are definitely flushed. Better rest this weekend.”

“I’ll say,” Beverly smirked.

She elbowed Brian, who elbowed Jimmy. It was obvious they all had a pretty good idea why Will was acting like a fever-stricken lunatic, trembling and fighting back countless moans.

“I take good care of Will,” said Hannibal serenely. “He is absolutely fine. A sensitive creature.” Smiling more broadly, he explained, “Will always has a strong physical response to spicy cuisine such as this last course.”

“Yes, that's it exactly,” Will said too eagerly. He gulped some ice water. BUZZ. Fuck – he slowed down the sipping of water. Manners, after all.

“Is it?” Bella looked at Beverly, who nodded with a mischievous grin.

Then Bella nodded, too, with a good-natured, small laugh, and Will considered hiding under the table.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows and gave Will a glance that reminded him this (hiding under the table) would not be allowed.

Frederick and Jack were talking about some case by now, and both of them were more interested in that and their food than Will’s perilous situation. That made two out of the whole party who didn’t know Will had some kind of vibrating toy lodged in his hole, making him come every ten minutes or so, and that Hannibal had control of it. Playing with Will like a puppet master, acting as if everything was as prim and proper as any other Hannibal Lecter dinner party.

Yes, only <,i>two didn’t notice. Because Alana certainly had. Her mouth quavered in an indecisive, polite smile. Then she looked a bit offended-slash-disappointed as she slid her plate forward and sat back in her chair. As if she’d “lost her appetite.”

Oh, well. Will felt smug, which really took the edge off the various discomforts of the scenario.

By the time she tossed Hannibal a “really? Shameless, I’m surprised at you” look and Will a “You’re embarrassing yourself” look, however, Will had about enough of her silent suggestions and accusations.

“Alana, in all the time you and Hannibal spent together as mentor and mentee and then close friends, before I came along to break the cozy little situation up, did you never engage in buzz-worthy. dinner. theater...?” Will gave her his most evil little smirk, and the misconduct instantly resulted in the vibrator going off for the longest stint yet.

It was almost enough to make him jump out of his seat.

“Ohh, ahh–!” He moaned, tugging on the tablecloth before biting his lip, barely restraining himself from further expressions of unmanageable, oversensitive pleasure. “S-sorry, it really was a spicy course…”

“To answer your question, Will, no, I did not. I prefer my dinners free from such off-the-menu diversions.” Alana scowled.

“Hmm," Will replied tartly, bold despite his bright red face and constant trembling. "So judgy. One would almost wonder if you’re a little jealous that I have the only lead role in this particular performance.” Will grinned, then started sweating and gasping even more as Hannibal went to fucking town on the vibrator, keeping it going for so long this time that the plug made him come even harder and faster than before.

“Oh, my God!” Will cried brokenly, “God, Hannibal, please…”

“Yes, my dear?” Hannibal inquired sweetly.

Beverly, Brian and Jimmy were covering their mouths to hide their laughter, while Bella was barely holding it together. Jack looked confused, but then, he’d already written Will and Hannibal’s love off as intense and eccentric, so he did not care to look further into any detailed evidence of their sex life. He shrugged and let it roll off his notice by choice, while Frederick grimaced and Alana huffed.

“I–” Will blinked away tears of pained pleasure. Slowly, he managed to relax his grip on the tablecloth, but he couldn’t stop shaking. “I can’t believe we forgot the fresh fruit platter! Hannibal. The fruit was s-s-upposed to be served with the first course. How could we be so, um, what’s the word, pardon me?” He still put his best effort into being polite. “Uh.”

“Forgetful,” Beverly whispered.

Will nodded. “What should we do? Hannibal, what are you gonna do? Going to do, rather. We f-forgot about it.”

“I don’t see any harm, Will.” Jack smiled, “Why not serve the fruit with dessert? That is, if it appropriately compliments the dish, of course, Dr. Lecter. I wouldn’t want to suggest anything that would clash on the palate.”

Hannibal chuckled pleasantly, “It’s a wonderful idea, Jack, as the flavors will be quite complimentary together. One might even say divine.”

“Perfect,” Jack affirmed, pleased as punch.

It really didn’t matter to Jack how kinky his hosts were, after all, since he pointedly ignored their shenanigans so smoothly. When he got a night off to spend time with Bella and had a chance to enjoy such a remarkable meal, Jack wasn’t going to be bothered by anything.

“Yes, it sounds…delicious,” Jimmy said with all the seriousness he could muster.

Brian dissolved into a giggle and then covered his mouth and “coughed” in an unsuccessful attempt to conceal it. “Yes, it does.”

“Is the dessert a banana split?” Beverly asked, “Maybe peach cobbler with whipped cream?”

“Do you like it when I bring you coffee in the morning at work, Agent Katz?” Will asked with an accusing smirk. “Because that habit can stop. Anytime.”

“Okay, okay,” Beverly gave in, “Sorry, I’ll stop making any…um, assumptions about your favorite desserts.”

“Then I’ll even bring bagels on Monday.” Will was in a state of weird fever dream madness, half in sub space in mixed company while he was humiliated, even if his frustration towards Hannibal had melted into confused gratitude and worship.

It still wasn’t beyond him to be amused at Beverly’s jokes, which were full of as much happiness for him as humor at his predicament.

Everyone could see how special Will was to Hannibal and how Will’s Daddy would make him feel good and let him come over and over, no matter where they were. They all must know he was Hannibal’s precious boy and that the best was yet to come later as long as he kept working on his manners.

Still dizzy, he smiled over at Hannibal hazily. The older man looked at him, entirely besotted. “That is so very good of you, darling,” he said in a much more soothing tone than he’d used with Will since yesterday. “I’m proud of what a good friend you are. Such lovely manners.”

“Yes,” Bella put in delicately, “You certainly can handle a lot, Will, all at once. No wonder Dr. Lecter trusts you to be his ideal partner and co-host.”

Will was delighted at this. Bella had unknowingly confirmed him to have the very status in Hannibal’s mind which he’d been paranoid that Alana might one day hold.

“Aww,” Will said slyly, by now kind of missing the tormenting pleasure of the vibration, but not enough to misbehave again and risk his reward for later. “That’s nice of you, Bella, thank you. Hannibal still has a lot to teach me about hosting dinners, but I’m always more comfortable in social situations when he’s by my side.”

And he isn't going anywhere.

“How sweet.” Frederick rolled his eyes. “Almost sickening.”

“I agree.” Alana crossed her arms. That was rude!

Will almost spat out the next sip of water. He had to stay hydrated, of course. Alana had just done…bad table manners! Aha!

He internalized his triumph. Hannibal’s eyes shone with more pride in him for the restraint, and then he cast a disapproving, lofty expression on Alana.

“I should think you would be overjoyed to see me, your longtime friend, so happily settled with the love of my life, even if we do occasionally overindulge in our affectionate gestures while in company.”

Hannibal’s tone remained entirely proper and light, but the meaning was downright scolding. Not the intimate way he scolded Will, either, but the way he typically warned a “pig” who he intended to serve up on a future menu.

“I am happy for you both,” Alana insisted petulantly. She gulped her merlot and asked if she could do anything to help get dessert out on the table more quickly.

Will beamed at the way she clearly wanted to run home and never accept a dinner invitation to this house again. GOOD. He had won this night in so many categories: at least, he hoped Hannibal agreed. It sure looked like he did…

***

When the last goodnights had passed, in such wondrous varieties of good cheer, extreme amusement and scowling resentment, Will thought it was kind of like they had all seen the same painting. To a few of them it was a comedic work, to others irrelevant because not their preferred artist for the genre, for still others, offensive drivel because it excluded them so specifically.

All in all, satisfying. Will helped Hannibal to clear the rest of the dishes with such, not over-excited, but just hopeful emotion, verging on contentment. He felt he was ready for whatever else was going to happen to him, and that was enough.

He felt so nice and safe, loved, taken care of. And like a good boy who had done well enough to make Daddy proud, which was the best feeling. Just as Daddy had told him earlier, taking his punishment had been the best thing for Will.

“Sweetheart,” said Hannibal adoringly, “Please don’t trouble yourself. I have everything well in hand. Why don’t you just have a drink or another slice of cake or anything you’d like, and relax for a few minutes? I’ll be free shortly, and I can hardly wait to devote all of my attention to you.”

He looked even more gorgeous than he had throughout the dinner party. Now, he was soft, his hair looser and his jacket off, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. A different Hannibal than anyone else got: domestic, comfortable, and just for Will.

Will smiled, swaying slightly on his feet. “Thank you, Daddy. I’m…please excuse the double meaning, I’m so full, and as such, I will just accept the resting with great appreciation, if that’s okay? I couldn’t eat another bite.”

“Of course it’s alright, my darling,” Hannibal agreed easily. He gave Will a big, warm bear hug and then kissed his lips, tasting lightly of merlot and chocolate. “My perfect boy. I will come to you soon.”

“‘Kay, I’ll go wait in bed.” Will made his way there with drowsy joy, then got into the huge, comfortable bed with no goal aside from staying awake long enough to enjoy his well-earned, rewarding end to the memorable night.

***

“I was half-afraid you might drop off to sleep before I came in, not that I would blame you,” Hannibal said with a gentle laugh.

He came into the bedroom and immediately began undressing as he gazed at Will, and Will gazed back, first at his large, strong and clever hands undoing all his buttons and zippers, peeling off and pulling down each piece of clothing, and then at his godly nakedness.

Hannibal had never been ashamed of nudity in his life, and why should he be? Will pondered the concept with an understanding that anyone who looked like that – golden-tanned, powerful, manly, rough and elegant all at once, with such a gorgeous chest covered in soft hair and an endowment which nearly defied belief – should be proud to strip without self-consciousness.

Will almost felt a little silly by comparison, sitting in bed, having stripped off his suit but left on his undershirt and boxer briefs, the plug also still in place, sensitive, pressing to parts of him that had never been more vulnerable. He had his glasses on, as he had started reading a mystery novel from the nightstand to stay awake. The moment this idea of his own silliness by comparison to the god before him started to form, Hannibal knocked it over like a child’s crooked tower of alphabet blocks.

“How absolutely stunning you are, Will Graham.” Hannibal climbed into bed with him, and Will turned to face him, surprised his cheeks could even still blush by now, when he’d turned red over so many more startling things earlier in the evening.

This was such a shy, genuine blush that Hannibal grew even more tender, yet urgently desirous at the sight.

“You are,” Will argued feebly.

“Yes,” Hannibal said to make them both laugh. “But no one is as beautiful as you, my darling, exquisite boy. I have a great favor to ask of you.”

“Anything, Daddy,” Will responded instantly.

He put both hands on Hannibal’s chest and looked up at him with innocent happiness.

“I need you to come just once more for me tonight. Do you think you can do that, my dear?”

Will moaned and nodded eagerly. “Yes, of course. I’m sure I can handle it.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Hannibal said, the word as always wrapping around Will’s emotions with a vice grip of pleasant suffocation. “I highly doubt that. But whether you can handle it has nothing whatsoever to do with the matter.”

This made Will gasp and melt against his lover while Hannibal suddenly clutched him fiercely and pressed their bodies together, all in the slip and slide of smooth, lavender sheets, with the warm, darker purple blanket on top of them.

Again and again, Hannibal kissed his lips and licked hotly into Will’s mouth, slowly, but his hands were firm and demanding, running over Will’s body with restless obsession. He groped Will’s ass and his chest, played with his nipples while sucking Will’s lip, and he trailed the back of his hand lightly over Will’s clothed cock while biting his neck.

With a growl, he bit down on Will’s firm bicep, making the younger man yelp with tearful pleasure. Every small act of possessive marking was, as always, a claiming of Will as territory, but a reminder to Will, too. The bruises would never fade without being replaced immediately after; he must never forget to whom he belonged.

“All that stupid jealousy and paranoia,” Will sighed, running his fingers lazily through Hannibal’s soft hair as his lover’s head started moving attentively lower, soft, wet lips pressing more kisses in favorite places, just as they both liked. “It seems incomprehensible to me now.”

“Perhaps we both needed proof positive. We have it now,” Hannibal suggested, his voice thick with lust and love. “Darling, you didn’t clean up, did you?”

“No,” Will giggled, a little embarrassed, but knowing this was what Daddy preferred. “I’m a sticky, dirty mess. I’m a crime scene of the acts of indecency you took out on me all night. I thought you would like it better.”

“Of course I do,” Hannibal smiled, gasping when he had Will naked underneath him and saw that indeed, he was maybe the biggest mess Hannibal had ever rendered him.

The sight of his handiwork snapped the last little bit of restraint which Hannibal had left in him for the night.

“Have you any idea how much I wanted to take you on the table during dinner, each time you behaved, misbehaved, trembled, moaned and came for me?” Hannibal sucked languidly at Will’s cock, drawing him to hardness one more time.

Will clutched at Hannibal’s hair with one hand and dug his nails into the pillow with the other. His back arched and he cried weakly, “Oh, it hurts, and it feels so good. You make me ache for you, even when I can’t take it anymore.”

“That is because you are the very best, most wonderful boy in the whole world,” Hannibal grinned, stroking him firmly, then turning his attention to Will’s costar from the evening’s theatrical.

“Daddy,” Will whined, wriggling as Hannibal slowly and carefully removed the plug. It had been in him so long that he could have wept at the sudden deprivation, this emptiness.

But Hannibal didn’t make him wait. “I’ll always be here for you, my sweet boy,” he declared huskily, and Will felt the older man’s cock against his thigh, soaked in precum, hard as a rock. Just as he absorbed the raw eroticism of Hannibal’s frank arousal, his lover was fully on top of him again and thrusting into his well-prepared hole.

The glide was effortless, but Hannibal was so fucking big. Will cried and begged, and Hannibal gave him everything he needed.

With keening, high-pitched, panicked and breathy cries, Will took what he was given as Hannibal pounded him right into the bed with all he had.

Soon, the older man flipped him over and murmured, “I’m going to fill you up more than ever, sweetheart, and then you may sleep. How does that sound?”

“So nice,” Will smiled, “Thank you Daddy.”

Hannibal kissed his face gently, then fucked him savagely with Will stretched out flat to the mattress beneath him, making quiet, rising moaning sounds, as if he was being torn apart and nothing could please him more. He was incoherent by the time Hannibal came, holding Will so tightly to him and groaning deeply, shooting pulse after pulse of hot seed into the younger man.

Will just felt it all, every perfect sensation, each detail of being Hannibal’s, in the total absence of doubt on the subject. It was his last thought before he drifted right from a blinding, searing orgasm into a sleep that would last until the following afternoon.

Hannibal, however, stayed up for a while, cradling Will in his arms, softly kissing him. Mostly watching Will sleep, questioning his incomprehensible luck to the extent of fully trusting the universe again, which before Will, he would have thought impossible.