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Title: Dance of Desire
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Table: Personal Challenge 2, 1drabble
Prompt: 12, Dance
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 moaned as he slid a second finger inside himself; his head fell back, his eyes closing. He no longer cared if Hannibal was still watching him; he was too far gone in his own pleasure to take note of anything else that was happening around him.
He didn't know how long it lasted; he kept pushing his fingers more deeply inside himself, twisting his body slightly to find his prostate and gasping when he did.
He knew that Hannibal didn't want him to make himself come; that wasn't the point of this. He was merely getting himself ready for Hannibal -- ready to be fucked senseless, if the look in Hannibal's eyes when he'd looked up from his book a few times had meant anything.
At this point, he knew how to read those glances very well.
"That's enough, Will." Hannibal's voice was clear and crisp; he closed his book and set it aside, standing up and moving towards Will. "Stand up and bend over the desk. Legs apart." His voice was almost a purr; the sound was sensual, almost an aural caress.
Will obeyed, slowly removing his fingers and standing up. He felt somewhat awkward, but he should be used to this by now, he told himself. This dance of desire was one that they engaged in often; Hannibal usually liked to take him over the desk.
Hannibal called this their civilized mating dance, but Will didn't see anything civilized about it. This was more a case of blind lust; what he had been doing only seconds before was designed simply to ignite Hannibal's desire for him, to inflame his lust to new heights.
He did as he was told, bending over the desk and closing his eyes. He could feel his body tightening with anticipation; it would only be a few moments before he felt the heat of Hannibal's body behind him, then that first deep thrust that would send sparks through his body.
He clutched at the edges of the desk, leaning forward and spreading his legs.
Will didn't want to think about he must look; he knew that he was silently begging for what Hannibal would give him, but at this point, he didn't care. He wanted Hannibal so badly that he would debase himself by begging aloud if he had to.
In this dance of desire, his need for Hannibal was more than equal to Hannibal's desire for him. He was sure that his own desire was the deeper of the two.
He heard the distinctive snick of a zipper, and fabric slithering to the ground. Will held his breath, his body tense. In just a few moments, this dance of desire would be carried to the next level, and he could hardly wait for the fireworks to begin.
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