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Title: In Walks the Night
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.
***Will sighed as he stretched out on the bed, glancing towards the door. He'd closed it deliberately, so that he would know when Hannibal entered the room. Though there really wasn't much chance of him dozing off; he was far too keyed-up for that.
He should be tired after what had passed between them in the shower, but he wasn't. Instead, his body craved more of the other man, as much as he could get.
He was hooked on Hannibal. He might as well admit it. As unexpected as this relationship had been, he was in so deep now that there was no way he could back out. Hannibal had become a part of him, a part that he didn't want to let go, a part that he desperately needed.
Hannibal was his lifeline in a world that was increasingly bewildering. Whenever he felt that he was starting to spin out of control, Hannibal was his center; if he didn't have that steadying influence in his life, he was sure that he'd end up in a very dark place.
But he was in a dark place already, wasn't he?
Will sighed at the thought, pushing it out of his mind. None of that mattered, not now. The important thing was that he was here with Hannibal, and that he was gong to get what he wanted, at least for tonight. He would be given all that he needed to make it through another day.
Hannibal gave him what no one else could -- a sense of stability, a rock to cling to when he felt that he was starting to drown in waters that he couldn't navigate.
What did he give Hannibal in return? Will's lips curved in a sardonic smile as he pillowed his head on his hands, closing his eyes. It was obvious what he gave Hannibal. His body. And whatever else Hannibal wanted from him, he'd probably give that, too.
He could feel his body tighten at the sound of the door opening; he didn't open his eyes, knowing that Hannibal was standing in the doorway looking at him. He wanted Hannibal to get a good look at his body, to drink him in with that predatory stare.
"I wouldn't have thought that you could be any more lovely, Will," Hannibal murmured, his soft voice pervading the quiet of the room. Will could almost feel those words wrapping around him, like a warm blanket on a cold night. "But removing all of the hair only enhances you."
"Th-thank you," Will managed to stammer, uncertain of what else to say. "I thought you'd like it."
"Oh, I do. Very much," Hannibal told him, approaching the bed. Will felt the mattress dip under Hannibal's weight; he could sense the other man bending over him, but he still didn't open his eyes. He wasn't prepared to meet his lover's dark gaze quite yet.
It was as though the night had walked into the room when Hannibal had entered; darkness closed in around him, hemming him in. Hannibal had that kind of effect on him; he was the light and the darkness rolled into one, with the darkness winning out.
He could feel Hannibal's hands on his skin, moving down his body as though to test the smoothness of his skin. "I'm quite glad you did this," Hannibal told him, approval in his tone. "There is nothing in the way now. I can feel you much more easily."
"I thought it was what you wanted," Will murmured, feeling a little embarrassed by Hannibal's inspection of his body. "After I saw how you'd painted me."
"You catch on quickly, Will." Again, approval in that tone. "Very well done."
Will wasn't sure how to feel at that compliment, or what to say. "Thanks," he murmured, wondering just what Hannibal planned to do to him. He knew that they would be intimate, but there were so many different ways to do that, and he had no idea what his lover's intentions were.
"Turn over," Hannibal said briskly, sitting back on his heels. "I'm going to take you from behind, Will. I want to be able to touch you while I take you. I want to feel the smoothness of your skin." His voice had dropped to a seductive whisper, a tone that sent shivers down Will's spine.
Obediently, he did as he was told, his body tightening with anticipation. It wouldn't be long now before Hannibal was inside him, thrusting into him, filling him, taking him ....
He almost gasped when he felt a finger slid down the cleft of his ass; then Hannibal's hands were lifting his hips, spreading him. Will could feel a hot blush suffusing his cheeks; he wasn't used to being studied like this, to having the most intimate area of his body inspected.
He wasn't sure whether it was humiliating, arousing, or a little bit of both.
Hannibal leaned to the side; Will knew that he was reaching for the small tube of lubricant he'd seen sitting on the table by the bed. Only a few seconds later, Will felt one lubed finger slide inside him, then another, slowly spreading him, then probing deeper.
He resisted the urge to moan, not wanting to distract Hannibal from what he was doing with any sound. But Hannibal didn't seem to like his silence; he leaned forward to whisper in Will's ear, "Make all the noise you like, sweet William. I find that rather stimulating."
All right, then. When those long fingers brushed against his prostate, Will let out a strangled gasp, then a moan. He couldn't hold the sounds back, no matter how hard he might try.
And really, he wasn't trying very hard. Not any more.
In only a few moments, Hannibal was rhythmically thrusting those fingers deep inside him, then pulling them nearly all the way back out, simulating intercourse. Will cried out with each thrust, his hips pushing back, wanting more of Hannibal than he was getting.
"Please, Hannibal," Will moaned, feeling as though he was near the verge of tears. The frustration was building up inside him; he couldn't deal with this teasing for much longer. He needed more of Hannibal, much more than just two fingers thrusting into him. "Please."
"Patience, sweet William." Those fingers slid out of him, and just a moment later, they were replaced by the thick head of Hannibal's cock. Will held his breath; he knew that Hannibal would more than likely enter him quickly, the first thrust bringing with it a stab of pain.
It was always like that. But he should be used to the pain by now; and besides, it didn't take long for that pain to quickly morph into exquisite pleasure.
His muscles tensed, tightened, waiting for the inevitable joining.
He had to hold back his scream when that joining came; he had been waiting for it, but he hadn't known when it would come, and the suddenness surprised him. The pain flashed through his body, then was gone in a matter of seconds.
Then there was no pain, only a slow-burning pleasure that seemed to seep through his entire being, filling him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Will pushed his hips back, wanting more of Hannibal, wanting the other man deeper inside him.
It was as though he was enveloped by the night; Hannibal was the night, and Hannibal was all around him, inside him, drawing him deeper into that particular darkness that belonged only to him. And Will went willingly, more than ready to be consumed by that darkness.
Hannibal's arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him to his knees, and then his back was pressed against Hannibal's chest, and those hands were moving down the front of his body, one hand playing with the tender buds of his nipples, the other curling around his rigid penis.
Will could do nothing but gasp with pleasure; Hannibal's hands were guiding his body, pulling sensations from him that he hadn't known he could feel.
Those hands were doing things to him that he'd only dreamed of experiencing.
No one had ever touched him like this; no one had ever made him feel the way that Hannibal did. He wouldn't have thought it possible that so many sensations could exist, that one person could know them all, and could play his body like some rare instrument.
His orgasm was uncoiling deep in his belly; he could feel it rising to the surface, threatening to break over him before he was ready. He gave in to that orgasm, letting Hannibal draw it from him, giving himself over to the feeling of being taken, of being used to fulfill another's desires.
Hannibal was stroking him in rhythm with those thrusts; the hand on his cock was drawing his orgasm from him as surely as feeling Hannibal inside him was. Will closed his eyes, leaning back against the man behind him, giving himself over to the pleasure.
When his orgasm came, it drew a keening, wordless cry from his lips; he couldn't have held the sound back if he'd tried. It was a mixture of a scream and Hannibal's name, cut short by his intake of breath, his need for extra oxygen as his muscles tightened and then went slack.
He wanted to fall forward onto the pillows, but Hannibal's arms around his waist kept him from doing that. Will dragged in one ragged breath, then another, seeing stars dance behind his closed eyelids as Hannibal thrust into him a few more times before reaching his own climax.
Only then did he allow himself to sag in Hannibal's arms, to let out the breath he'd been holding, to let himself go limp as Hannibal pulled out of him.
Those hands were pushing him down onto the pillows, turning him over onto his back.
Only when he was lying on his back did he open his eyes, to look up into Hannibal's face. The other man was perusing his body again, that dark gaze roving up and down his supine form, the look there one that Will couldn't quite decipher. That gaze was almost .... hungry.
He didn't know if that look exhilarated him -- or scared the hell out of him.
"You need to sleep, sweet William," Hannibal told him, his gaze meeting Will's. "I believe that I might have tired you out for the evening -- and you have quite a lot on your mind other than the two of us. Sleep will help. I hope you can find it here more easily than you do at home."
"Aren't you going to sleep here, too?" Will asked, surprised that Hannibal wouldn't choose to sleep in his own bed just because someone would be sharing it.
But Hannibal shook his head, a slight frown forming between his brows. "No, I will not," he said, his voice quiet and even, not looking at Will. "It's better if I don't share a bed with you in that way, Will. If I do, then I can't answer for what else might happen between us."
"Oh." It was all that Will could think of to say; he didn't know what else could happen between them that hadn't already been done, but if that was what Hannibal wanted, he wasn't going to question it. "I guess I'll see you in the morning, then."
"You most certainly will." Hannibal smiled down at him, lifting a hand to caress Will's cheek with his knuckles. "Sleep well, sweet William. And pleasant dreams. I hope they're of me."
With those words, Hannibal moved off the bed and out of the room as quietly as a cat, closing the door behind him and leaving Will staring after him, still unable to believe that Hannibal would have sex with him, but refused to share a bed just to sleep.
That just seemed .... odd, even for Hannibal, who was one of the oddest men Will knew.
But he shouldn't question it, not if that was what Hannibal wanted. He sighed, turning over onto his side and pulling the covers up around his nude body. Maybe tonight he'd be able to sleep, since he was in Hannibal's bed and his body was completely sated.
And maybe tomorrow morning, Hannibal would come in here and awaken him with another bout of what they'd just shared. That thought made Will's lips curve into a smile, even as his body gave in to his need for rest and his eyes closed in exhaustion.
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