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Title: Blood Calls To Blood
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: R
Table: iPod Song Challenge, getyourwordsout
Prompt: Wiseblood, by King Swamp
Author's Note: One-shot.
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 was becoming more his property with each day that passed.

Hannibal leaned back in his desk chair, closing his eyes and letting his thoughts fill with the image of Will Graham naked on the couch just a few feet away from him. He always enjoyed that mental image, almost as much as he enjoyed having Will under him.

Even now, when Will wasn't here, he could still feel the younger man in his blood, still taste Will on his tongue. The young profiler had gotten under his skin in a way that no one else had ever managed, and Hannibal wasn't yet sure if this bothered him or not.

No one had ever had the kind of effect on him that Will did. He didn't just want to play with Will and then dispose of him. No, he wanted to devour Will in a different way.

Will belonged to him. He wasn't just a plaything, to be used and tossed away when Hannibal grew tired of him. He was something different altogether. With Will, he knew a satisfaction that he'd never felt with anyone else, a feeling of having found .... contentment.

He'd never expected to find that with anyone.

Least of all with an inexperienced young man who had never been involved with anyone before. He had been surprised to find that someone as lovely as Will was so physically innocent, but that fact had pleased him. There were no bad habits there to be corrected.

Will was his creation. His design. His in every way possible. He'd made sure of that.

There was a part of Will that called to him, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was that he and Will seemed so much alike under the surface; he knew that the dark side of Will's nature was going to come out sooner or later.

That dark side was irresistible to him; it was what had drawn him to Will when they had first met. And that darkness within him would prove irresistible to Will, as well. Hannibal knew that at some point, he would turn towards that darkness -- and he would never look back.

There was something in their blood that called to each other, Hannibal reflected. Blood to blood; like calls to like. Without consciously realizing it, there was a wisdom in their blood that recognized a kindred spirit, and responded in kind.

He had known that Will was for him when they had first met. He had looked into those blue eyes and seen his future written there, as clearly as if there had been words inked on paper.

What was it about Will Graham that had so captured him?

Was it the fact that Will would, whether he wished to or not, give in to his dark side at some point? Maybe that was why he was so drawn to this young man; Will was malleable, like clay in his hands. Hannibal could bend and shape him in any way he saw fit.

Or maybe it was merely desire, a desire that he hadn't felt in far too long. Yes, he wanted Will Graham, wanted him badly. It wasn't just his blood that called to Will; it was his body, as well. He'd wanted Will in his bed from the first time he'd laid eyes on him.

Well, he'd gotten that wish. And more. Much, much more.

Will was his in every way; he would do anything that Hannibal required of him. Will was addicted to him; blood spoke to blood, the darkness transferred from one to the other.

And in a way, he was Will's, as well. He hadn't stopped his killing, of course, but he no longer felt such a desperate need for blood sliding over flesh that grew cold all too quickly. Having Will in his bed sated his need for such pleasures.

At some point, he would require Will's death. That was inevitable. Will wasn't going to be young and beautiful forever; Hannibal was realistic enough to know that he would tire of his favorite toy, probably sooner than he was now anticipating.

That would be a shame. He would miss Will once he was gone, but there would come a time when he would move on, and he would want things that Will couldn't give him.

But that time wasn't going to come for quite a while; Hannibal was sure of that. Will would continue to sate him for a very long time; he could never get enough of that beautiful body, of Will's soft moans and cries when he was taken, of the way he capitulated to Hannibal's every wish.

Will was perfect. For the moment, he was everything that Hannibal needed.

The wisdom in his blood called to Will's; he would teach the young man all that he needed to know to please him. And then when he had tired of Will, he would give him a glorious, beautiful death, one that would be talked about for centuries to come.

Yes, he would miss Will when it was time to dispatch him. But all good things must come to an end, and he knew that he wouldn't be content with Will forever. It was a pity, but that was how the world worked. And even if things could be different, he doubted that he would change his plans.

Or would he? Hannibal wasn't quite sure of that. Will was exhilarating, a breath of fresh air. Maybe he would keep this young man around for far longer than he'd thought he would.

Just the thought of Will naked on that couch, as he'd been only last night, made his heart race and his blood pound through his veins, his body responding in kind. He wanted Will again. Wanted him now, not later this evening.

Now. At this moment. He wanted Will naked, squirming under him, moaning his name.

Will Graham was an addiction for him. A dangerous addiction, but one that he would keep going back to again and again. Blood calling to blood.

Hannibal closed his eyes again, savoring the thought of Will stretched out on his bed, bound and gagged, his body begging for release, naked under Hannibal's hands. Yes, that was the way he would have Will. He could already taste the young man's body, feel that soft skin, hear his muffled moans.

Without another thought, he reached for his phone, dialing Will's number. He wasn't going to wait until tonight, when they would have their usual session. He wanted Will now, and he wasn't going to wait. He would have Will here within the hour.

What Hannibal Lecter wanted, he got. He wanted Will Graham now, and he would have him now, regardless of whatever else Will might be doing, or whatever the young man might want. He would come to Hannibal, reluctantly or otherwise.

Blood would always call to blood.