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Title: Fire of the Newly Alive
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Table: Personal Challenge 2, 1drabble
Prompt: 2, Fire
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Hannibal Lecter or Will Graham, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***Will blinked as he awakened, reaching out for the man next to him, only to realize that Hannibal wasn't there. At some point, his lover had left him alone in their bed -- though he shouldn't be surprised at that. He knew that Hannibal was an early riser.
Sitting up, he raised his arms above his head, stretching his body beneath the silk sheets. The feel of those sheets against his bare skin was almost decadent.
He knew that when he pulled the covers back, his body would be bruised, dark marks on his pale skin, welts from the whip that Hannibal had used on him last night alongside them. But they didn't seem to matter; those marks showed him who he belonged to.
Not that he needed to be told. He already knew who owned him.
Just the thought of his lover was enough to set his body on fire again; even after all they'd done last night, and the fact that he'd been pleading for Hannibal to stop by the end of the evening before he'd tumbled exhausted into sleep, he still wanted more.
Before he had met Hannibal, he would never have thought that the kind of activity they engaged in would be something he would enjoy. Funny how finally losing his virginity had shown him just who he was, and just what he wanted out of a physical relationship.
Every time they had sex, he awoke in the morning feeling energized, as if he'd somehow been taken apart and reassembled the night before. He had a new purpose, a new meaning to his life. He was newly alive, on fire with possibilities for his future.
No one else could ever make him feel so alive. No one else could give him what Hannibal did; even without having been with anyone else, he was sure of that. Hannibal was the only one he wanted, the only one he needed. The only person he would ever be with.
Of course, Hannibal would never let him be with anyone else, even if he'd wanted to.
He had given up that freedom when he had gotten into this relationship. He belonged to Hannibal, in every way, shape and form. There was no escape for him; he had known from the moment Hannibal had first touched him that he no longer had that freedom of choice.
But it didn't matter. He didn't want anyone but Hannibal; he didn't need anyone else. No one else could stoke that fire in him; no one else could be Hannibal.
Pushing the covers back, Will stood up slowly, wincing as his bruised body protested. He'd feel more like facing the day after a long, hot shower, he told himself. And maybe, just maybe, his lover would join him in that shower and continue what had started last night.
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