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Title: Ladders To Fire
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Author's Note: One-shot fic, based on the "ladder scene" in Episode 1X10, "Buffet Froid."
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.
***How had he ended up in this position? He didn't know, but from Will's point of view, it was a good one to be in. One that he wanted to stay in for as long as possible.
He was stretched out against the ladder in Hannibal's office, naked, his wrists cuffed above his head. He wanted to turn his head to see what Hannibal was doing, but he didn't really need to see. He could guess. His lover had made no secret of what he intended to do.
He was going to be fucked. There was no other word to use for it. This wouldn't be making love; Hannibal wasn't going to be gentle. This was going to be nothing but fucking, for both of them. Will wasn't sure that he was ready for it, but it was happening nonetheless.
He'd agreed to this, he reminded himself. He had told Hannibal that he could take whatever his lover wanted to dish out, that every coupling didn't have to be tender.
This was just sex. Nothing more. He could deal with that.
He had no doubt that Hannibal was getting the lube from a drawer of his desk -- and possibly other things, too. He didn't doubt that this would involve more than just fucking, and that Hannibal planned to push him to the brink, as far as he could go.
Maybe tonight would be the night that he was pushed beyond what he thought his limits of endurance were. If that was the case, he was prepared for it.
Or was he? A shiver that was comprised of both excitement and apprehension went through Will's slender body; he wasn't sure at all that he was ready for any punishment Hannibal might decide to mete out. He wasn't used to this; he was new to this game.
If indeed Hannibal thought of it as a game.
Will was sure that his lover saw this as something serious; not as a game, but as lifestyle. It was part and parcel of their relationship, and he would have to learn to deal with it if he wanted to stay with Hannibal. He was prepared to learn, to face any test he was put to.
This wasn't going to be easy for him -- at least, not the pain part. But he would get used to it, and maybe he'd even learn to like it, in time.
Actually, it wasn't that bad, he told himself, his muscles tightening as he heard the experimental swish of a whip slicing through the air behind him. In a way, he did find the pain pleasurable; he just had to concentrate on letting to and accepting it.
He simply had to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and relax.
If he relaxed his muscles, then the whip didn't sting so much when it made contact with his flesh. Of course, that made the marks more prominent, as well -- but they would always fade away with time, while the pain would linger in his subconscious.
"Now then, Will." Hannibal's voice was soft; he knew that his lover was, in a way, giving him fair warning as to what he intended to do next.
He couldn't stop his body from tightening in anticipation; even as he heard the whip fly through the air, just before he felt the lash across his bare buttocks, he inadvertently cried out, a wordless sound. It wasn't quite a scream, but more than a moan.
There was a whistling sound as the whip cut through the air again.
This time, his muscles tightened without Will realizing it was happening; the scream that came from his throat felt as though it was torn from him. He had sworn that he wouldn't scream, but he couldn't help it; the pain was worse than he'd thought it would be.
Another swish of the whip, another stroke across his skin. His ass was burning now; he was sure that he was going to cry at any second.
One of the bars of the ladder was directly in front of his face; Will swallowed his pride, moved his head slightly, and clamped his teeth around it to keep himself from uttering another scream when yet another whiplash hit him. He wasn't going to show weakness. Not now.
Another stroke, and another, this time across his lower back.
How long would it be before Hannibal stopped this and moved on to what Will was craving? He needed to have his lover inside him, their bodies joining as one.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he felt Hannibal's hands on his body, fingertips tracing the welts that were rising on his skin almost lovingly. He bit down harder on the bar of the ladder, trying not to moan, trying to silence the whimpers that threatened to rise.
He wasn't going to make a fool out of himself by letting Hannibal know that what had just happened had hurt more than he'd thought it would. This was what Hannibal wanted, and he was going to capitulate to his lover's desires, however painful they might be.
"I know what you need, my lovely," Hannibal murmured, his hand moving down to the curve of Will's ass. "Never fear, you shall have it."
Will unclamped his teeth from the bar, nodding and exhaling slowly.
He almost gasped when he felt Hannibal's fingers between his legs, already lubed, spreading him and stroking over his entrance. He didn't want to push his hips back against that touch, but he couldn't help it. He needed it desperately, needed to feel Hannibal's hands on his body.
Was he being too needy? Were his physical needs coming too much to the forefront? Should he try to hold back, to make Hannibal work for what he was taking?
No. It was impossible for him to do that. He needed Hannibal too much, needed to feel the other man inside him, filling him, taking him. He had waited too long for this; it was past time for him to be fulfilled. He wasn't going to wait any longer.
The pain was past; it was time for the pleasure.
Will couldn't hold back a groan when Hannibal's fingers slid inside him; he pushed his hips back into that touch, hissing through his teeth when the other man's hand brushed against the rising welts on his skin. It hurt, but he could deal with the pain.
He could simply focus on the pleasure that was coming, the pleasure that he knew would lift him to the skies and beyond. That was what he wanted, what he craved.
His wrists strained against the handcuffs; his fingers curled around the sides of the ladder, clinging to it. This ladder stretched upwards into fire, a heat that would melt him from the inside out, a heat that would dispense pleasure even as it destroyed.
Those fingers kept thrusting inside him, building his desire to a fever pitch.
When they finally pulled out, Will held his breath; he knew what was coming, and he couldn't help pushing his hips back again, even though he knew he would find no relief -- at least, not yet. Hannibal would make him wait, tease him until he was begging.
He had no intention of begging. He knew that it he waited long enough, he would get what he wanted -- and the waiting would only make it better when it came.
He could hear the sound of fabric slithering to the ground, the snick of a zipper being pulled down. Will closed his eyes, swallowing hard, resting his forehead against the ladder. Only a few more seconds, and he would be taken to paradise.
The heat of Hannibal's body was behind him, those strong hands on his hips.
Then Hannibal was inside him, thrusting into him, and all he could do was cry out with each thrust, his hips moving in rhythm with those thrusts, his muscles tightening around Hannibal's cock, each thrust drawing a successively longer and louder cry from his throat.
It hurt, the pressure of Hannibal's body against the newly-formed welts on his ass adding pain to the expected pleasure. But he didn't want it to stop.
No, if this stopped, then he would be trapped somewhere between desire and ecstasy. No matter how much pain went along with the pleasure, he had to endure it, had to let it reach its peak. He had to let himself be pushed to the very limits of his boundaries, and then beyond.
He could do this. He would do this.
Will concentrated on the pressure building within him, the pleasure of feeling Hannibal fill him, then pull nearly all the way out only to slide in again even more deeply. He concentrated on taking deep breaths, on drawing the pleasure out for as long as he could.
But no matter how much he wanted it to last, eventually, it had to come to an end. He and Hannibal both had to reach their climaxes, and then fall back to earth again.
The dizzying heights spun just in front of him; all he had to do was reach for them, let his body be pushed just that small bit higher and .... there. Will screamed Hannibal's name as his orgasm rushed through his body, bringing a wave of pleasure unlike any he'd ever felt.
He spiraled up, then down, bracing himself to meet the ground with a jarring thud.
But instead, Hannibal's arms were around him; his lover was holding him, whispering something into his ear in a foreign language that he didn't know. He could only assume that those were words of love, or at least of desire; he had no way ot knowing what they meant.
Hannibal thrust into him again, then a second time, then groaned against the back of Will's neck as he found his own release, pulling Will's body back against his.
For several long moments, the two of them stayed where they were, both breathing heavily, their bodies recovering from their exertions. Will raised his head slightly when he felt Hannibal pull out of him, feeling curiously bereft.
There was no need for that. This would happen again.
Hannibal reached up to free Will's hands from the cuffs, turning the young man around and pulling him into those strong arms. "Are you all right, my love?"
Will nodded, leaning against Hannibal, feeling exhausted now that their coupling was over. The welts on his back and buttocks were starting to hurt; he shifted uncomfortably as Hannibal's hand slid down to cup his bottom, his skin making contact with the marks.
"I believe you've earned some solicitude, Will," Hannibal murmured, curving his arm around Will's waist. "Come with me, and I will take care of those welts." His voice was soft; Will could almost swear that he heard regret there. "I should not have marked you so badly."
"I'll survive," Will murmured, relieved to know that Hannibal intended to take care of him. This night wasn't over, not yet. There was pleasure yet to come.
Not that there hadn't already been quite a lot of that.
"Of course you will, my sweet." Hannibal's voice was almost a purr as he led Will from the room. "But the night is still young, and I am hardly done with you yet. Come along. I'm sure that I can find a way to pleasure you yet again before it's time to sleep."
Will nodded, his mouth going dry at the thought. Hannibal wasn't done with him yet. Though it sounded as if whatever was to come wouldn't involved more pain.
As they mounted the steps to head for the bedroom, Will couldn't help looking back at the ladder. It was still there, not showing any evidence of what had just happened. He could feel the fire start to burn in the pit of his belly again, a fire that he was sure would soon be quenched.
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