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Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
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.
***He would be back.
Hannibal didn't doubt that for a moment. Glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall as he sipped his first cup of coffee of the day, he allowed himself a slow smile, thinking of what it would be like when Will showed up at his door, fumbling with apologies.
Would he accept those apologies? At the moment, he wasn't sure. He would have to see what Will could come up with, and how he felt about the young man's hesitant progress to where he already knew they should be. He was getting rather tired of waiting.
From the first moment he'd seen Will Graham, he knew that this young man was for him. That rush of desire had been intoxicating, almost overwhelming.
It wasn't love; far from it. There was no word complicated enough to describe what he felt for Will. Definitely not love, yet much more than mere physical desire. Lust would burn out quickly; what he felt for Will had so many other connotations, so many different meanings.
Will probably wouldn't survive their relationship. That was a pity.
It didn't matter how badly he wanted Will in the physical sense, Hannibal reflected, stirring sugar into his coffee.Eventually, after he'd had Will in every way possible, after he had broken him and then put all of those lovely pieces back together, he would grow bored.
That was a shame, but it was the inevitable end of what they would have. He didn't for one moment think that Will wouldn't be a victim at some point; it remained to be seen just how long he would last, and how absorbing this relationship would prove to be.
He had no doubt that Will would satisfy him for quite a while. That mind was fascinating; it would take him a while to discover all the twists and turns of Will's psyche.
But he eventually would, and then would come the downward spiral, the inevitable winding down. He accepted that long before it happened, but he wasn't going to dwell on it. The two of them could have years; it might take that long to know Will in every way possible.
This wasn't the time to think about the end. This was only the beginning.
How long would it take Will to show up at his door? Given the fact that Will never slept well, it should be soon, Hannibal told himself, narrowing his eyes as he gazed into his coffee cup. He was almost positive that it would be within the hour; Will wouldn't waste any time.
He knew the other man far too well. He knew what Will needed, and more importantly, what he wanted. He knew that better than Will did himself; he was more willing to reach into that darkness lurking inside Will and pull out whatever he discovered hiding there.
Will was afraid of that darkness. In some ways, he embraced it, as in his work with the FBI. In others, he ran from it -- as he had last night.
Hannibal sighed, shaking his head. In some ways, watching Will run from what he most wanted and had such a hard time admitting to was amusing. But in others, it was damned annoying. How long would it take him to finally capitulate? This waiting was taking forever.
However, he was good at waiting, he reminded himself sternly. He didn't need for Will to come to him too soon, before he was ready to admit to all of his desires and to see them carried out. If he did that, then he would only run away again -- maybe for good this time.
No, he couldn't allow that to happen. Not when he was so close.
He'd have to handle Will very carefully indeed. He couldn't take the chance of losing this young man. Will was so perfect for him, such a malleable lump of clay just waiting to be formed in the image that Hannibal wanted to cast him in, even though he was unaware of it.
Will didn't want to face his own desires, but he would soon learn to. It wouldn't be easy for him -- and he wasn't going to make it easy, Hannibal reflected. Will needed to collide with those desires, wrestle with them, and finally submit to them.
He would be doing Will a grave disservice if he made it easy. Those desires weren't meant to be sublimated or ignored; if Will kept them buried deep inside, then they would eventually eat him alive, and he would become that which he now hunted. It was inevitable.
Hannibal closed his eyes, savoring the sight that came to his mind. Will, naked and helpless, bound to the four posters of his bed, begging him ....
Begging him for what? Ah, that remained to be seen. He wanted to believe that Will would beg for more, but that probably wasn't in the cards -- at least not for a while. It would take some time to make Will accept those inner desires, and to beg for more of what he needed.
But he eventually would. He couldn't turn away from those desires forever.
Sooner or later, he would have to embrace them. He would have to admit that he had been born for Hannibal, born to be his slave -- and eventually, his victim. Because, as regrettable as it might be, Will would be a victim. No, he would be the victim. The ultimate victim.
Nothing would be sweet than making Will submit to him, than stripping away all of those inhibitions and finally uncovering the neediness beneath. He would subjugate Will, little by little, turn him into what he had been meant to be. And then, when it was all over ....
Then Will would die. A brilliant, beautiful, breathtaking death.
But for now, Will would live. Probably for quite a while yet, Hannibal mused, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table as he glanced the clock again. He didn't fool himself that it would be easy to break down all of Will's barriers. It could take years.
He was a patient man. He could spend years breaking Will Graham down and putting those pieces together again, making the young man the piece de resistance of his experiments.
It didn't matter if Will acquiesced or not -- he would be talked into doing so, convinced of the need for him to explore those desires rather than run from them. Actually, that could be fun, Hannibal thought with a smile. He would love to see Will's progression from defiance to submission.
And he would submit. Hannibal would make sure of that. In the end, there would be no way that Will would be able to say no. His desires would override his need for control, and once that happened, he would be caught in a web that there was no escaping from.
That submission would only be a delightfully delicious beginning.
Hannibal smiled again as he heard a hesitant knock on the front door. Will was here, and the game could begin. He had made the first move, taken that first step towards his end.
He rose to his feet, lifting his coffee cup to his lips and slowly draining it. He would be civilized when he opened the door to Will, of course. Invite him in, offer him coffee, and let him talk, however awkward his words might be. Then he would make his first move.
He would be the eventual winner of this game. After all, it was inevitable.
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