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One final night in Greece. It is, of course, more than enough reason for a party.
There’s a warmth and a heaviness in Will’s belly, brought on by a mixture of drink and the anticipation for what’s to come. He feels worry, too. How could he not? To leave all of this - all of Greece behind - it's like closing a chapter, for now, in hopes that he may return to it when the time is right.
If ever the time is right.
If ever.
The thought is quickly shaken from his mind. Tonight's a night for celebration and there would be no point in wasting it doing otherwise.
Will spots Hannibal from across the room— through the masses of other people and through the rise of all of their voices that inter-tangle and echo off the walls. Hannibal isn’t hard to spot - not when he and Will have known one another since they were young. After a history entwined together you know how a person stands and how they speak. You know the way their body speaks to yours, even through a crowded room, there is a resonance that remains embedded, bone deep.
It also helps that they’ve been getting to know one another in a more physical sense lately. Gentle, experimental touches and kisses when tucked into the safe secrecy of shadows and hidden corners. It’d been sudden and entirely unexpected when their relationship had broached the new dynamic, but far from unwelcome.
Walking by the party-goers to cut a path through the crowd and place himself to stand in front of Hannibal, Will arches a brow. A smile paints itself over his features in greeting. The taller man has a dark amber gaze and sharp features, framed by straight, flaxen hair to contrast Will’s loose chocolate curls. Will’s fingers flicker at his side with an urge to touch and stroke all that is familiar, but with so many eyes….
There’s a half-laugh on Will’s tongue when he speaks.
“I think this is my last,” he says, raising his cup just slightly in indication as sea-blue eyes study Hannibal to try and gauge just how much wine the other man has had tonight. “And you?”
Before Hannibal can give him an answer, however, the Will’s attention is ripped away by the sound of a cry from behind. His jaw cranes and his eyes sweep to peer over the bow of his own shoulder, taking in the array of people enjoying themselves, before they fall onto the carnal scene that develops in the room’s opposite corner. People stripped bare and indulging in one another with wandering hands and hungry mouths. It’s not an uncommon and it’s definitely a contagious.
Clearing his throat and, wetting his lips with his wine-red tongue, Will is quick to bring his attention back to Hannibal as though they’d never been interrupted.
“I think I have some miles to go yet,” comes the answer in a smooth, dulcet tone.
Without taking his gaze off Will, Hannibal waves down a servant girl and has another jug slammed down on the table behind them, blood-red liquid splashing over the side and staining the raw wood below with another sticky layer of sweet grime.
The mess of writhing bodies almost serves as a cocoon around them, all muffled sounds of skin hitting skin, hoarse moans, and laughter. Hannibal holds out his hand for Will and waits a beat for the younger man to take it, before giving a gentle tug to pull Will flush against his chest, an arm snaked around his middle.
A wry grin crosses Hannibal’s lips, before he spins them around and takes a seat, pulling Will into his lap. Will follows easily, free hand coming up to rest against the curve of the other man’s shoulder for balance as legs part to straddle his thighs. It’s a close, comfortable position and one that they’d been in a few times before, but never in a room full of people who, most of which, were in far more risque positions than they.
Once settled, Hannibal leans in and murmurs hot against the boy’s ear, “Now, as you were saying... Your last ?”
As he waits for an answer, he leans back to pour himself a new goblet and then returns his attention back to his fresh-faced lover, all wild curls and glassy, hooded eyes. His boy always with a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. Will can feel chills crawl under the surface of his flesh in the wake of Hannibal’s mouth at his ear, a familiar tossing and turning in the pit of his stomach. Really, they hadn’t been physical with one another for very long and they hadn’t gone all that far - just far enough for them to crave more.
Will pries his eyes away from Hannibal just long enough to cast a quick glance over one of the larger man’s shoulders, feeling a sharp thrill of both nervousness and excitement. The scene of the party around them gets more and more debauched as time passes, everyone slowly joining in on the more erotic and nearly violent festivities. Although he and Hannibal are seated near the edge of the room, and whilst the rest of the party is rather preoccupied, it’s the first time that the two men have been positioned so intimately in public.
It’s the sight of the scenes that play out and the heated energy of the large room that bring upon a deeper blush when Will directs his gaze back to Hannibal in their close proximity.
“Perhaps I would be fine to have a little more,” Will answers finally, his smirk widening as he watches Hannibal take a drink from his own glass. Will tries to chase it, leaning in swiftly and suddenly to cover the other man’s mouth with his own, before Will’s tongue presses in and kisses away the rich, oaky taste, lamenting silently that Hannibal had already swallowed it down.
“Greedy.” Hannibal chuckles, before their mouths consume one another. Hannibal welcomes the sudden display of affection with parted lips and a sigh, his tongue swiping to meet the other’s, before Will is gone again, leaving him with only the barest taste of a kiss.
A satisfied hum, and Will still wears his smirk when they part, tongue passing once over his own lips, before he adds, “It is great wine, after all. Sweet.”
Hannibal arches his brow over his goblet as he takes another sip of wine, swallowing it down with a light gasp, before setting the it aside in order to give his full attention to Will. Head rolling to the side, the larger man lifts a lazy hand to stroke long fingers down the ridges of Will’s spine, before curling an arm around his waist once again.
“Not always so sweet.” It’s murmured against Will’s jaw as hands work up his tunic to bare slim thighs, the ends of Hannibal’s fingers just barely grazing flesh along the way. Fine lines of goosebumps and hairs meet his touch, guiding him onward.
He then clasps his hand fully over the taut flesh, just above the knee, and presses his fingers in harder. It’s not meant to hurt, but instead, to emphasize the sensation of flesh against flesh and it does exactly that, prompting a small gasp from Will. Hannibal’s other hand comes up to cup Will’s jaw, bringing his face around to lock their gazes together. The taller man waits a beat, sinking into the wide blue of the boy’s eyes - all at once so innocent and so dangerously provocative.
Nosing up his cheek to plant another soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, Hannibal allows a low murmur to quickly follow. “Our last night, hm?”
Will exhales, long and shuddering as he brings both hands up the sides of Hannibal’s throat, only to wind them into his sandy-colored hair. It’s strange to think about— to recall each memory they had made here and to know that they would be leaving it all behind come the morning. This life and everything they had known would quiet down to a whisper, collecting dust on a shelf.
“Mhm. It hardly seems fair to only have one more… especially when we’ve already had so few like this.” Will answers, blush deepening as he angles his jaw to allow Hannibal’s mouth to kiss more over the hard edge of it. There is the slightest ache in Will’s chest, mourning the fact that they’d only just recently taken a turn towards the more romantic, when they could have had so much more time, had they only initiated it sooner.
They can both feel it— the need to be sure the night doesn’t go to waste. Both crave the very same thing, but the nervous, fumbling newness of their relationship makes them tentative in voicing it aloud.
Will’s eyes shift to peer over Hannibal’s shoulder again, sweeping the room and watching as people engage in far more extreme intimacies than they. The entire energy of the room has shifted and no one is left unaffected by it, it would seem. Including Will, who presses his hips forward once from where he sits in Hannibal’s lap, hooded gaze directing itself back towards the man, before nervously flitting downwards.
“It would be a shame if we didn’t make the most of it,” Will adds then, an almost-smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, before he squirms slightly and hips sweep forward again - deliberately this time. “ Right ?”
Hannibal’s eyes fall closed and he draws in a ragged breath as Will grinds down against his swelling cock that now borders on fully erect. Exhaling sharply through his nose, the taller man’s fingers dig in against the flesh of Will’s thigh and slowly push upwards, dragging the cloth up with it. His large hand comes to close around the boy’s naked hip, thumb pressing in just above his groin and feeling out the coarse hair there— it’s a touch beyond what they had dared so far.
And, oh, how that gives rise to stuttering breaths and a pooling heat that swells and blooms, skittering with sudden sparks of bliss every time the boy shifts in Hannibal’s lap.
Dark-hooded eyes open slowly to train up and meet Will’s. A moment of heated tension strings out, before Hannibal slowly leans back against the table, his chest pushing forward as his spine arches on the edge of the wood and he pulls the boy over him. Will follows without a moment’s hesitation, a long, warm exhale falling past parted lips. They had experimented with touching and kissing one another before now, but never with such a vehement desire such as what they feel now.
A thumb ghosts up and down the line of Will’s groin as Hannibal’s opposite hand snakes up the back of the his neck and into loose, dark curls. There, the taller man slowly clutches a fistful and holds Will
just so
, weighing out their next actions.
Maybe it’s the wine. Maybe it’s the pressure of the impending grief that builds up in Hannibal’s lungs, knowing that this night may be their last. Maybe it’s the thrumming air of erotic tension, both between and around them. Or, maybe it can simply be explained by the ache that lives in the brawny prison of his chest, stabbing at him every time Will is near. Surely, it must be a combination of all the above that drives the taller man to yank on those curls, arching Will’s neck back with it and baring his throat.
A gasp sounds and Will goes still as he waits in anticipation.
Hannibal rocks his hips up in a steady and agonizingly slow rhythm just as he drags his nose up the strained strap of muscle along Will’s neck; tongue and lips follow to leave a glistening trail over perfect skin, before Hannibal speaks.
“Tell me, Will— how would you make the most of tonight, hm?” The tail end of his words are bitten into Will’s jaw as fingers card tightly through his dark hair. “Show me.”
With that, Hannibal lunges up and growls out against the shell of the other’s ear, teeth grazing flesh and breath fanning out, warm enough to elicit a deeper flush over Will’s features. There is one hand still in his hair, while the other remains clasped over his hips, thumb tracing a lingering touch up and down the line of the smaller man’s groin. As lust overtakes him and drives Will to continue grinding himself downward, the gentle and hesitant touches shared between them simply don’t feel like enough.
Regardless of the nervousness and the awkwardness of so many others currently surrounding them, he still wants more.
“Touch me,” Will prompts, his gaze dropping to watch as he covers the back of the other man’s hand with his own and guides it directly over his swollen cock. Hannibal’s gaze turns up to meet him, somewhat wide eyed but his large palm still closes over his shaft and tentatively strokes. “Like that. That feels good.”
Oh, does it ever feel good. Hannibal’s whole body tenses, his blood surging up with a heady flush, every fibre of his being, from his flesh to the marrow of his bones, is surging forward to claim Will for himself. The soft brush of Will’s cock over the bed of his palm draws a shuddering groan from the older man, his ribs quaking with the rumbles of air and sound.
A groan chokes in his throat as he ruts forward into Hannibal’s palm, the shift of Will’s backside against the larger man’s lap with every motion only serves to provide the most tempting friction. It feels far too good to cross this boundary - to step into new and exciting territory. As he moves, Will allows another glance over Hannibal’s shoulder, if only to check that they aren’t being too closely watched.
“Everyone here is making the most of the night,” Will says then, his voice quiet and shaking on his tongue as he tears his gaze away from the sight of so many erotic encounters, directing it back towards Hannibal. Eyes hooded with lust and their mouths just-barely grazing in both men’s closeness, Will nips at Hannibal’s lower lip and finally poses the question as his hips continue to flex forward against the man’s palm. “Do you want that too? All of it ?”
All of it. Everything. To tie both of their bodies together completely - right here and right now - regardless of who is near enough to see them.
Will wants that. In fact, he can think of nothing else he wants more in this final night here.
There is no doubt that it is precisely what Hannibal wants as well— to meld into Will, twining their bodies into one and with no care for who is watching. Indeed, perhaps it’s all the better with the audience. He wants the whole world to hear his boy sing when Hannibal makes him his own - when he takes everything from Will and yields the same in return.
How could there be any doubt at all in Will’s mind that this is what Hannibal’s wants?
Regardless, Hannibal doesn’t answer - not right away. Rather, he leaves the boy to dangle on the precipice of desire a bit longer, letting lust roll over the curve of Will’s trembling lip and quiver on the tip of his throbbing cock for a long, aching moment, before finally crushing their lips together. Ravishing his mouth, Hannibal allows the splitting and bruising of flesh under their rough kiss to be his answer.
His hand closes over Will’s velveteen shaft with a firmer grip and strokes in practiced motions, squeezing at the base, before giving a sure swipe over the head. His other hand works to wedge in and cup Will’s rolling ass, strong fingers kneading and pressing into the cleft - testing. When he finally breaks from the kiss, Hannibal nods and murmurs breathless words.
“All of it?” A skilled, but delicate finger pushes against the smaller man’s rim as Hannibal also gives Will’s cock an unforgiving tug.
A moan, unrestrained and undeniably wanton finally falls from Will’s lips and he is quick to bury his face into the crook of Hannibal’s neck in the effort to muffle the sound out of embarrassment for those that might be within earshot. Hips stutter forward, muscles flexing, and breath come forth in short, uneven huffs— Will is ever the image of his growing need for the other man.
In response to such an eagerness in Will, Hannibal’s face lights up with a wicked and hungry smile, eyes glinting darkly as he tugs up the front of his own tunic, directing his erection to slide over Will’s hole as his hips continue to undulate in slow, sweeping waves. The fat head of Hannibal’s cock teases Will’s tightening entrance as the taller man murmurs against the corner of Will’s mouth,
“It will hurt... you understand? It will hurt, before it blooms into something better…”
Dragging a wet, open-mouthed kiss down Will’s jaw, Hannibal then angles and bites down hard against the side of the smaller man’s neck, stroking over his cock firmer and faster than before. The bite elicits another hitched sound from Will. It’s muffled and hissed out against the place where Hannibal’s neck meets his shoulder. On the other side of Hannibal’s neck, Will’s fingers dig in and he can feel the slope of the man’s neck tense pleasurably under the tightened grip.
The larger man gives a low, huffed moan of his own as the urge to drive himself up inside this squirming young thing on his lap quickly sends Hannibal into an animalistic frenzy.
“I know. I’m not worried by pain - I welcome it.” comes Will’s answer and there’s no waver in his voice when he says it. He’s no stranger to pain. In fact, he knows that much worse lies beyond tonight; marching, starvation, fighting, death… loss.
Tonight, whether it be pleasure or pain, Will would accept either like a gift.
Will is flushed when he draws his head back and cants it to the side - just enough to catch Hannibal’s gaze in a sidelong glance. The soft, flickering light from an oil lamp some distance away from them reflects against the edges of their eyes and dances in their peripherals. There’s a warm touch of pink flowered out against Will’s cheeks and over the bridge of his nose, lips parted to allow steady pants to rattle past, before he leans in to capture Hannibal’s in a kiss.
It’s firm, deliberate, and reassuring. It draws the deepest and most resonant tone yet, the older man letting neediness sound out breathlessly.
It doesn’t last long, before Will draws away and, with lashes lowered, brings his hand up to swipe his kitten-pink tongue over the cup of his own palm to wet it. The older man watches the lewd display with wide-eyed, lust-blown and in awe. His mouth parted as he drags his own tongue over the curve of his lips, aching to taste.
The smaller man allows for saliva to gather in a wet shine, before that very same hand is lowered back down, behind and below himself to wrap around the thick girth of Hannibal’s cock, giving it a long stroke. Everything within Hannibal braces at that point, his hands grabbing for the edge of the bench they sit on as his shoulders rise up, shaking and panting as Will works over his cock. Hannibal can feel himself grow so hard that it hurts.
“Will…” he breathes out, only glancing around once to eye the room of onlookers, before his attention is dragged back to the young man.
It’s hardly going to be an easy glide inside, but they can make due. Will isn’t afraid— he wants this and they wouldn’t have another chance like they do now.
“ Ah — do I just..?” Will trails off as he lines the crown of the other’s erection into position. The smaller man’s brows are knitted in concentration and a soft stumble in holding his weight brings his free hand to come down and balance his palm against the thick rise and fall of Hannibal’s chest. It’s clumsy and awkward, only in trying to line them up just-so. Assisting, Hannibal takes hold of Will’s ass and firm control of his own cock, a fist closing over his slippery shaft as Will finally manages to lower himself down. Hannibal helps to guide Will all the way, until the boy takes the full length.
Groans and breathless cries of both pain and bliss fill the air between, before being drowned out by the din around them, the surrounding orgy beginning to hit it’s peak. It’s taking both men to the crest along with it.
It’s an extremely tight squeeze and every muscle in Will’s body goes rigid as he spears himself down onto Hannibal’s cock. And there is no question that it hurts. The pain is sharp, aching, and all-consuming as Will fights to adjust and take Hannibal entirely, moving at an agonizingly slow pace. Hannibal urges him to breathe and relax in crooning tones over and over, gentle words and touches attempting to soothe, whilst it’s very clear the older man is struggling to resist thrusting as Will adjusts to the intrusion.
By the time the smaller man is seated down completely, the painful edge is already starting to wear off and a moan follows at the tiniest wave of pleasure. The reassuring sounds are eaten off his tongue just as quick as Hannibal clasps a hand over the back of Will’s neck and pulls him in for a lip-splitting kiss. It’s sloppy and messy as the older man digs his heels down into the floor and starts to thrust up in awkward, needy motions. There is no care for art now, but rather, a focus on pure, animal hunger.
“Fuck, Will, you’re so— fuck you’re…” Hannibal gulps down a panting breath, “so fucking tight. And hot.” He shifts his hands to grab the boy’s waist in a grip that is almost too tight, all in an effort to steady him. It’s then that Hannibal is able to begin power-thrusting in long rolls of his hips, his primal need overpowering his care for the cries of pain offered up by Will.
But Will is far from unwilling. His lust for more rises on a whine with, “Y-yeah. Oh, fuck…”
The pain doesn’t subside. Perhaps it might have if they were to have taken things slower, but it’s clear that both men feel a significant lack of time. Just tonight— all they have is tonight, before everything would be different. It makes them desperate, aching, and conscious of every second that passes them by.
It makes Will take pain eagerly, hungry for anything at all that Hannibal might make him feel.
In frantic motions, Hannibal tugs up Will’s tunic high enough to bare his hips, ass, and the swell of his erection. Most do not see, but there are some people around the busy room who turn momentarily from their own actions to stare at the rocking flex of Will’s pert ass. It’s exposing, laying their love for one another out in the open for all to see, but the scattering of gazes turned on them sends a secret, dark thrill up Hannibal’s spine. It serves to double his efforts, pounding up into his lover.
And Will feels it too— he feels completely dissected when cool air hits his naked flesh, but for all of the hesitation he feels in being self-conscious, the excitement he gets from it is far stronger.
As flesh slaps on flesh, Hannibal clasps his hands over Will’s thighs and holds him in place, ramming up as the older man directs a hunger glance down towards his boy’s weeping and throbbing cock.
“I want to see you touch yourself for me.” Hannibal takes Will’s hand and guides it to his own cock, before continuing with, “Like that, yes. God, you look so…”
Hannibal thrusts upwards in as even a rhythm he can, but the control quickly starts to falter, breaths drawn in sharp bursts as his grip tightens, turning his face up to meet Will’s gaze. Hannibal's expression is painted in a strange shade of both awe and horror when he speaks again.
“I can’t hold…” His whole body tenses and shakes as a glistening flush creeps up to stain his cheeks and wets fine strands of hair.
Will understands what the other man means in an instant, without needing the words there to spell it out so literally. In fact, the smaller man can feel a coil tightening inside the cradle of his belly— the very same tightening that he knows Hannibal feels now as well. So close - their climaxes brush over them with hot fingertips.
“Hannibal! I’m gonna— “ Will’s sentence is cut off when his orgasm hits him in sharp waves, hand still tugging at his own cock as cum paints itself down the slopes of all his fingers, the mess shared in the space between both he and Hannibal.
Head tipped back and hips rolling atop the older man’s lap, Will moans out low and the sound is broken in his throat as every muscle in his body tenses, silken walls tightening around Hannibal’s cock. The smaller man doesn’t stop there. He continues to move swiftly and deliberately in smooth sweeps and bounces to bring the other over the edge with him. Features tipping down again to capture Hannibal’s lips in a searing kiss, Will licks into the man’s mouth to swallow down each of his moans, greedy and blissful as the crest of Will’s finale warms him, humming under the surface of his flesh.
It’s explosive. It’s better than either of them could have imagined.
After, Hannibal is left in a breathless state of shock, both by the perfectly wanton display that has just played out in front of him and by the sensation of his cock going sensitive, softening inside of Will’s heat. Hannibal only wishes it didn’t have to end so soon. His hands sweep everywhere at once - over his lover’s thighs, ass, and finally up the small of his back with no care for modesty now.
The room has faded from view. Will is flushed, smooth skin sliding under Hannibal’s hands like silk. Glassy eyes turn up to meet Will’s, before Hannibal breaks their breathless state of silence.
“Let me taste you.” With that, Hannibal catches the smaller man’s wrist and brings the delicate hand to his mouth with a groan, licking away the warm, salty aftermath of Will’s climax.
Will cannot stifle the small moan that follows, voice hitched in his throat and brows knitted into a furrow as the high of their pleasure begins to settle back into a comfortable softness. Drawing his hand away from Hannibal’s mouth, Will replaces it with his own lips, kissing the man with a tenderness that is both familiar between them and also entirely new. It’s bittersweet - to have had the honor of finally indulging in one another how they had desired to for so long, while also knowing just how unsure their futures would be from here.
It’s very possible that they would not return back home the same men that they were before. It’s possible that they may never return home at all.
For now, pressed close within the dim lighting of the room, all they can do is push away the worries for what lies ahead and enjoy what little time they have left together, in the safety of home. They know that all they can do now is trust in their ability find their way back to one another once again, regardless of what may come.