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Title: Come Here Boy
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Prompt: 2, Fire
Author's Note: Sequel to "Fires of Passion."
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.
***His body was on fire.
They hadn't even gotten out of the car yet, and Will already felt as though he was burning form the inside, being consumed by a flame that he knew would sear him to the bone once they were behind closed doors and it could be set free.
That flame was already licking at him, teasing him with its intensity. He knew that it would only become more hot, burning higher and higher until he was reduced to ashes.
He wanted that searing flame, needed it. He needed the fire of his passion for Hannibal, and his lover's reciprocation of that passion, to burn so high and hot that he was completely devoured by the heat, then rose from it like the proverbial phoenix.
He needed to be burned to a crisp, seared from the inside.
It would happen. He had no doubt of that. Hannibal would take his hand, lead him into the house, close the door -- and their passion would be unleashed.
Just the thought of that passion made him tremble, made him wish that the short walk from the parked car to the house was already over and he was naked under Hannibal, feeling those hands rush over his body and claim ownership of him.
Only Hannibal could touch him like that. Only Hannibal could throw him a look that told him to come here to his lover's side and expect to be obeyed. He was doing that now; the glance that was cast Will's way was an unmistakable command.
He listened to that command, and obeyed. Hannibal didn't have to tell him to come to him. Will could hear those words clearly enough in his mind.
The fire was already cascading over him.
He wasn't a dog. Hannibal wouldn't treat him like one. But all his lover had to do was indicate that he wanted Will at his side, and Will would be there. He might not be able to call to Hannibal in the same way, but he knew that his lover would be there for him if he was needed.
He was needed now. Will needed his touch, his kiss, his hands, his body. Will needed to be taken, to be consumed by those flames of passion that were rising ever higher.
Soon enough -- within a matter of seconds, actually -- he would be on the floor, or against the wall, or on the steps, his body in Hannibal's hands. His lover would be touching him, possibly even already inside him. And the flames would engulf them both.
Hannibal's hand was on the doorknob. Only a few moments now.
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