Chapter Text
Will has to bite his tongue so he doesn't blurt out everything he knows about his favorite contemporary serial killer. Rarely do people appreciate his opinions on the topic and he can't talk freely right now besides.
"Kills in groupings of three separated by long stretches of inactivity. Takes organs. Artistically displays the victims' corpses. Why are you asking, Brian?" Crawford's voice rumbles ominously over the com.
"Because Jimmy found some pretty gnarly sketches in Lecter's office and when I put them through an image recognition search, some oddities popped up. See, he drew the Wound Man, some freaky medieval medical diagram. Also one of the inspirations for a past Ripper display. And it turns out Lecter replaced the face on his sketch with that particular victim's likeness."
"Would this be a bad time to mention I discovered a hidden basement under a trapdoor in his pantry?" Bev chimes in.
"Jimmy, erase any evidence of your presence and get out of there. This might all just be conjecture, but I don't like it. Bev, you too. Finish whatever you're doing and exit." Crawford commands.
"I'll just have a quick look around his study, boss. The basement is weird, sure. Giant walk-in freezer, industrial meat grinder, a band saw. Very clean white tiles. But no corpses or anything obviously murdery like that. Maybe he just likes to keep a very separate space for meat preparation? If you buy a whole pig to butcher at home it's gonna be both messy and stinky. Don't worry, I'll be okay." Bev's com unit clicks back off, her curiosity and stubbornness resulting in much cursing from everyone who isn't Will.
Will who's forced to pretend he didn't just have a fascinating epiphany.
After all, the Chesapeake Ripper is avidly watching as Will shovels fork after fork of some poor sod's vital organs turned scrumptious feast past his lips.
Those paintings in his office are clearly Hannibal thumbing his nose at everyone's inability to recognize the monster in their midst. An apex predator indeed. Daring everyone to make the connection. The man sure is bold, nothing here is vegetarian, his ass. Can't complain about the taste though. It's some of the best food Will's ever had, long pig or not.
With how meticulous the Ripper is, he's sure unless he manages to smuggle some of the meat out of the house to get analyzed in a lab, any other evidence will remain purely circumstantial.
Jimmy is back in the van serving as their mobile command center by the time the third course is finished and dessert is getting served, telling them about the notebooks he'd found, filled with handwritten recipes in both French and Italian. Bev gives an exhaustive account of all the banned and scandalous books she's currently perusing on the shelves in the study. Will, for his part, is getting a mild headache, having to listen to everyone's bickering.
He's sure his teammates would be horrified to know he's been playing footsie under the table with Hannibal for the past twenty minutes, despite their alarming discoveries.
Will is unfortunately quite addicted to the adrenaline rush caused by pulling off a con. The heightened stakes of Hannibal being a dangerous serial killer act more like a lure than a repellent. An ex-surgeon with an artist's sensibilities. He's practically salivating at the thought of those skilled deadly hands exploring his body.
One of the guests suddenly speaks up, demanding Hannibal play the Theremin for them as an after dinner treat. Their host rises from his seat, presumably to fetch it, and Will recalls with worry that Bev mentioned said instrument residing in the study, right along with a harpsichord, of all things.
Will stands to follow Hannibal, quietly stalking his steps. "Bev, incoming! Whatever you're up to, vacate the study or find a good hiding place!" Will issues a quick warning over his earpiece.
When he enters the study, only a few seconds on Hannibal's heels, the man is standing in the middle of the room, head cocked, eyes half closed and nostrils flared. Shit! He can probably smell Bev's presence. Could he track her scent like a bloodhound?!
Will steps up behind Hannibal, lips brushing his ear, as he goes all out on a diversion. His aching cock is certainly ecstatic at the opportunity he's being presented with. "Hannibal, how urgently do you want to return to the table?" He murmurs, softly taking the earlobe between his teeth, tugging playfully. He's quite gratified to see Hannibal visibly swallow and the pulse in his neck jump. Being the cause of such a dangerous man's composure being undone is a heady prospect.
"You are a grave temptation, Will Graham, a rennaissance aesthete's wildest dream." Hannibal turns and threads his hands into Will's hair, tilting his head for a better angle, before absolutely devouring his mouth in a filthy kiss. It's wet and messy and full of teeth. It's absolutely perfect.
Will crowds Hannibal against the desk, grinding their clothed erections together, breathing moans into each other's mouths.
Out of the corner of his eye he can see Bev slink out from under the table and towards the door. Will pushes Hannibal to sit back on the tabletop and drops into a crouch, hands on the man's parted knees. He mouths at the outline of the hard cock tenting Hannibal's dress pants, leaving damp spots on the expensive fabric, thrilled when it visibly twitches as he runs his teeth along the hard length. It's an excellent way to keep the man's attention off of Bev, but Will isn't kidding himself. He'd be doing this even without the need for a distraction.
"Go get 'em, tiger!" Bev's cheerful voice in his ear nearly makes Will flinch. He surreptitiously turns off his earpiece, dropping it into his pocket. The team can scold him later, but he won't have their commentary ruin this encounter.
Hannibal is breathing hard, panting through parted lips, his pupils so blown his eyes look near black. Staring down at Will like he's never seen anything more beautiful in his life. It's excellent incentive to keep going and Will eagerly pulls the zipper of Hannibal's fly down with his teeth, nosing into the opening, tongue snaking past the slit of the briefs to tease at sensitive skin.
Seeming to get impatient with the taunting touches, Hannibal pulls him up to bring their mouths back together with fervor. His hands free Will's erection alongside his own, stroking them together in a tight grip. The silky hot skin rubs together with blissful friction and for a while the only sounds in the room are their panting breaths, the slick slide of tongues and lips meeting in frantic kisses, and the wet sound of precome easing the motion of Hannibal's hand.
It's over much faster than Will would prefer, sticky come ruining the front of their clothes with the unmistakable evidence of spontaneous debauchery. Hannibal keeps on stroking them until Will whimpers into his neck, feeling completely wrung out and oversensitive. His cock twitches feebly through a second dry orgasm when Hannibal drops to his knees and swallows the softening flesh down with a rapturous expression, licking Will clean until he's truly aching from the overstimulation. He buries an exhausted groan in the top of Hannibal's head, the previously so neatly gelled back hair a complete mess.
Rising back to his feet, Hannibal nuzzles at the many red marks his passion has left on Will's throat. "So, my dear Will. Are you going to tell me what truly brought you here tonight? I'm quite taken with you, but I won't hesitate to defend myself from a potential threat, if necessary."
Will knows that a lie based in truth is always the best way to go. More believable. And he has no doubt that Hannibal is astute enough to recognize any outright fabrications.
"I'm what you might call a grifter. A con man. I very much enjoy taking rich assholes like Sutcliffe for everything they own. When I came here tonight, I was considering making you my next mark. But certain revelations I had during dinner make the prospect seem quite inadvisable. I'd rather not end up the main dish at your next party, after all. Not to mention, I do very much like you, for whatever that's worth." It's fortunate that Will can be perfectly sincere, his more intimate interest in Hannibal completely genuine.
"I see. Truthfully, I cannot blame you for targeting Sutcliffe. Donald could use a bit of humility. And so, the weapons of divine justice are blunted by the confession and sorrow of the offender." Hannibal places a kiss of clear absolution on Will's lips, accepting both his explanation and repentance. "And I'd rather consume you in a way that leaves enough for me to return for another taste, again." A kiss. "And again." Another. "You won't flee from me, now that you see me so clearly?"
"Well, as far as I'm concerned, turns out the devil is not as black as he is painted." Will teases, pleased with the besotted smile crinkling the corners of Hannibal's eyes at this cheeky rejoinder. "Who did we eat tonight? I feel like I should thank them for the excellent dinner as well, not just the chef."
"Just an inconsequential pig, please do not trouble yourself over the end to their insignificant existence. I would feed you an endless procession of them, if you but promised to stay."
"I'd already suspected you to be a romantic and a sap. I'm very glad to be proven correct." Will brushes their lips together in another soft lingering kiss. "Fair warning - you might want to do something about Frederick Chilton and take a break from the Ripper's public displays for a while. He's the one who originally drew my attention to you and he's pretty determined to find something he can use to take you down."
"It seems a bit rude to repay his unintentional matchmaking with murder though. Perhaps dear Frederick would enjoy the notoriety of becoming a famous serial killer himself? After all, he does so yearn for public attention. Now, dare I hope that you'll be staying the night?" Hannibal does a very decent impression of puppy eyes. A cannibalistic serial killer should not be capable of looking this adorable.
It makes Will smirk, both charmed and incredulous. "Tell me where the bedroom is and get rid of the guests."
Hannibal takes off his ruined vest and rebuttons his suit jacket to hide the more conspicuous traces of their indiscretion, brushing a hand over his head in a somewhat futile attempt at straightening out the obvious 'sex hair'. He raises Will's hand to his lips to press a kiss to the palm. "Up the stairs, down the hall, last room on the right. There's an ensuite bathroom."
Will is very much looking forward to a sleepless night.
*****
"Will, what the hell! You don't just turn communications off in a possible serial killer's home!" Crawford yells the following afternoon, as Will walks into the conference room of their headquarters, gait a bit stiff and body aching deliciously from a night of vigorous fucking. They'd taken turns and done quite a few things Will hadn't ever even thought to try before. He's already gleefully anticipating the next time.
"Did you shag him? Was it good? You definitely look well-shagged!" Bev crows, eagerly bouncing in her seat.
Crawford rubs the bridge of his nose in exasperation.
"Yes and amazing." Will grins, exchanging a high-five with Bev. He's far too chipper to care what the others might think.
And Hannibal is far too careful to get caught. Will wonders how Chilton will react. It's pretty ironic that he came to Crawford hoping to take down a rival and now he'll be the one on the (metaphorical) chopping block soon.
Will can't wait to call Alana and gush to her about his new paramour. He's sure she'll appreciate Hannibal's dramatics.
With a dopey smile he thinks back to last night, of cuddling Hannibal in sated exhaustion on sinfully soft sheets. And Hannibal, looking deeply into his eyes, whispering against his lips. "Remember tonight...for it is the beginning of always."