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Title: Fantasy To Reality
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: R
Table: writers_choice
Prompt: #329, Cat and mouse
Author's Note: Sequel to "Desire in His Eyes."
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 swallowed uncomfortably, looking down at his hands clasped in his lap. For some reason, Hannibal seemed to be intensely focused on him in their session tonight, and he couldn't figure out just what it was that felt so different.

Somehow, things seemed to have transformed from mere doctor/patient to something more, and he didn't know why that should be. He had never made a move towards Hannibal, and he didn't think that the other man had shown any interest in him.

Of course, he was interested in Hannibal as more than just a psychiatrist or even a friend. But he wasn't about to say that.

He didn't want to put his desire out there in the open. It was far too likely that he would be rejected -- he'd be let down easily, of course, but he didn't doubt that he would be let down. Hannibal could have anyone he wanted; he wouldn't choose Will.

He'd coped with rejection in the past. He didn't want to do it again.

It was far easier to stay wrapped up in the little cocoon of protection he'd built for himself, so let those walls stay protectively around him. He didn't intend to let anyone through; he might let them have little glimpses of him, but they would never see the whole picture.

In some ways, he'd already let Hannibal see far too much of him already. Hannibal already knew some of his deepest, darkest secrets -- things that he'd never breathed a word of to anyone else. That was scary -- and, in a way, dangerous.

It was frightening to let anyone get too close to him, even the man he so desperately wanted. It would be too easy for Hannibal to get even closer.

The way that the other man was looking at him made him uneasy. Hannibal had been staring at him ever sine he'd come into the office; the look was different from the way that Hannibal usually viewed him. He didn't know why it made him so nervous.

He suddenly felt like a very small mouse that was under the paw of a very dangerous cat.

Why should Hannibal make him feel that way? He had been so careful not to let the other man know what his feelings were; he hadn't exposed his inner desires in any way, he was sure of that. Hannibal had never noticed any of the longing looks thrown his way.

He hadn't wanted those looks to be seen -- and he certainly hadn't wanted them to be acknowledged. If they had been, then Will would have backed away, and would probably have stopped coming here and seeing Hannibal in a professional capacity.

They would still have worked together, of course, but he would have been able to keep his distance when he was working. There would have been no discussions about anything other than whatever case they were working on at the time.

There would have been no in-depth discussions of Will's past, of his feelings. There would have been no way for Hannibal to get inside his mind.

It was all too easy for him to do that now, sitting only a few away from him, directly in his line of vision. The other man was quiet, studying him, as though he was looking for a way behind the walls that Will kept so carefully wrapped around himself.

If Hannibal wanted to get behind those walls, he'd have to work for admittance.

This game of cat and mouse was getting unnerving. How long could Hannibal sit there and watch him with that enigmatic little smile on his face? It didn't occur to Will that Hannibal had asked him a question, and that his mind had been wandering.

"Well?" Hannibal asked, tilting his head to the side. "I'm still waiting for an answer, Will. I cannot help but that that either this session is boring you and you can't keep your attention on what we're talking about, or you have something else on your mind."

Will shook his head, trying to clear it. "Sorry, I ...." He blushed, looking down at his hands again as he felt his cheeks flame. "I didn't hear what you said," he admitted, feeling guilty. "I'm not bored with the session. I guess you're right. I've just got a lot on my mind."

"Would you like me to ask the question again?" Hannibal asked, sounding faintly amused. "Very well, then I will. What is it that you want of me, Will?"

Will's eyes widened at the direct question; did it mean what he thought it did?

He couldn't be sure. He should have been paying attention to what Hannibal had been saying before; if he had been, then he would know how to answer, how to evade that question as best he could, appearing to give an answer when he was really revealing nothing.

"I ... I ..." He couldn't get the words out. He was feeling more than ever like a mouse trapped by a hungry cat, waiting for the swipe of a paw. He was helpless under that level gaze, those eyes that seemed to see right through him to the depths of his soul.

"Very well then, if you can't tell me what you want, then I'll tell you what I want," Hannibal told him, getting to his feet and moving to stand in front of Will's chair.

Will had to look up at him to meet the other man's eyes; with one quick, fluid movement, Hannibal took Will's hands in his own and drew the younger man to his feet, until they were standing there facing each other, barely an inch apart.

If he took a deep breath and leaned forward just a little, his chest would touch Hannibal's. All the other man had to do was slide those strong, muscular arms around his waist to pull Will's body against his; Will could already feel his mouth going dry at the thought.

That was what he wanted more than anything else; to be in Hannibal's arms, with Hannibal's hands moving over his body, down over his hips to cup his ass, to pull him close so that he could feel the strength of that lean body pressed against his own ....

Within the space of a second, that fantasy became his reality.

He was pressed against Hannibal's body, those enticing lips barely an inch away from his own. He could feel the warmth of Hannibal's body, feel the bulge between the other man's legs pressing against his crotch, making his own body harden in response.

"I want you, Will," Hannibal whispered. "I've wanted you from the first time I saw you. The time for games is over. I don't want to prevaricate any longer."

The cat and mouse game was finally over. Hannibal had stated what he wanted -- and to Will's amazement, those wishes coincided with his own. Was he dreaming? Had Hannibal really spoken those words? Did this man actually want him?

It seemed that was the case; he wouldn't be here in Hannibal's arms if it wasn't true. He couldn't be merely dreaming; the pressure of those hands on his hips wasn't a dream. He wasn't imagining it. Hannibal was holding him, those hands exploring his body.

He wanted to let his own hands do the same, but he couldn't. He felt frozen; it was too much of a shock, knowing that Hannibal actually wanted him.

Those lips were so close to his own. Hannibal could kiss him if he wanted to.

Will closed his eyes, surrendering himself to whatever Hannibal wanted to do. In that moment, he felt those soft, warm lips on his, gently coaxing his mouth open so that Hannibal's tongue could enter, teasing him, tasting him, making his knees go weak.

He wanted this to last forever, this touching and tasting and exploring. But it had to stop sometime; they had to move from these preliminaries to something more substantial. Will didn't doubt that he would be in Hannibal's bed tonight; there was no way he could not be.

He wasn't sure if he was ready for that, but it didn't seem to matter. Whatever Hannibal wanted, Hannibal got. He'd known that for a long time now, ever since he'd first met this man. Hannibal wanted him, so he would have him. In any way he chose.

"I want you in my arms," Hannibal whispered against his mouth. "In my bed. I want you naked under me, Will. I want to be inside you, making love to you. I want to be a part of you. Are you ready for that? If you want to back away, now is the time to do so."

He wasn't going to back away. Not now. Not when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

"No," he murmured against Hannibal's mouth. "I'm not going to back down." How could he? This was what he had dreamed about for so long. This was what he had made it through all those cat and mouse games for. He was finally catching the brass ring.

"Good," Hannibal told him, stepping away slightly and catching Will's hand in his own ."Come upstairs with me, then .To my bedroom."

Will could only nod, and follow Hannibal as the other man led him out of the office and up the stairs. He had never been so nervous in his life, but he wasn't going to run away. This was his dream come true -- a dream that he fervently hoped would last for a very long time.

***