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Title: Make Me Feel
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: NC-17
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 softly as he leaned down to turn on the water in the shower, testing it with his fingers until it seemed hot enough. Hopefully, taking a shower would relax him and get him more in the mood for what he hoped would happen between himself and Hannibal tonight.

He'd been thinking about this all day; it was a shame that finding those flowers and that ominous not on his front porch had turned his mood sour.

He wasn't the only one who wasn't happy with the way things had gone today, he told himself as he pulled back the shower curtain and stepped under the hot spray. Hannibal had never seemed so cold, almost .... terrifying. He hadn't realized that the other man could be so intimidating.

Hannibal could be truly frightening when he wanted to be.

Will resolutely pushed the memory of the anger in Hannibal''s eyes away, not wanting to dwell on it. At least that anger hadn't been directed at him, thankfully. Though he could have sworn that Hannibal's gaze turned cold when he'd looked into the other man's eyes.

Of course Hannibal wasn't angry at him. He hadn't done anything wrong. He hadn't asked for this, after all. And he certainly didn't want it.

Tonight, Hannibal would make love to him -- though he wasn't really sure that he could rightly call what they did "making love." It almost felt more as though Hannibal was trying to assert some kind of mastery over him rather than to do anything that could go by the word "love."

Even when they were at their most intimate, somehow, Hannibal seemed oddly .... cold.

That was a weird thing to think, Will told himself with a frown. He knew how much Hannibal wanted him; the other man had made that more than clear. Desire wasn't cold; it ran hot, as he had every reason to know. The man who was his lover wasn't cold towards him.

No, Hannibal was anything but cold. He'd felt the heat of the older man's passion more than once, and he knew that it could leave a searing burn.

Then why did he associate Hannibal with coldness? He shook his head, sending droplets of water flying. He didn't want to follow that line of thought; it didn't seem to fit, not now, not when he was naked in the shower in Hannibal's home, not knowing what would happen tonight.

He might not feel completely in control when he was with Hannibal, but that shouldn't surprise him. His lover wasn't a man who would easily relinquish control -- and Will had to admit that when he was with Hannibal, it was much easier to hand over those reins to someone else.

In fact, he liked doing that. He liked giving over that responsibility.

He'd never felt like that with anyone else -- but then, there weren't that many people he'd been with to compare his nascent relationship to. The two women he'd had a clumsy intimacy with didn't count; they'd disappeared from his life as quickly as they'd entered it.

And the three men who he'd fooled around with didn't count, either. One of them had taught him how to give head; other than that, there had been nothing special about that relationship. The other two didn't even register as a blip on his radar.

He'd forgotten their names. All of them. He hadn't given his virginity to any of them; no, that honor had gone to Hannibal, and it hadn't been given so much as taken.

Will was still on the fence about that; a part of him resented the fact that Hannibal had simply taken him, rather than making sure that he'd actually wanted that intimacy. Hannibal had simply reached out for what he wanted, with no questions asked.

But should he really be surprised at that? he asked himself with a sigh. That was the kind of man Hannibal was. He had somehow known that a part of Will wanted him; he'd known that in the end, he wouldn't have to ask to get what he wanted.

He himself wasn't like that. He couldn't read people so easily.

He could see through the eyes of killers, but he couldn't read a simple question in someone's eyes. He didn't have the facility with people that Hannibal did; he never would. His weaknesses were Hannibal's strengths, but he didn't know if the other man had any weaknesses.

They couldn't be more different. Hannibal wasn't anything like him, not really. It was strange how he felt so comfortable with the other man.

He'd never felt that way with anyone else. He'd always been uncomfortable in his own skin, never wanting to share his body with anyone else. But with Hannibal, it seemed natural to be naked, to let his lover have his way with him. He wasn't awkward or embarrassed.

Hannibal took him out of himself, in a way, made him feel that he could step outside of who he was, or who he'd always been. Hannibal had already made Will his, whether he realized that or not. Will knew that at this point, he didn't have the strength to pull away.

Nor did he want to. He had no desire to turn away from where he was.

It took Will a moment to realize that while he'd been standing here thinking about Hannibal, his hand had moved between his legs; color flushed his cheeks when he realized that he'd been slowly stroking his cock, pleasure starting to seep through his body.

He didn't want to touch himself; he wanted Hannibal to touch him. He wanted those hands and those lips on his body, drawing inadvertent reactions out of him; he wanted Hannibal to do what he would with him, to take him in any way that he chose.

Sighing, Will forced himself to spread his arms out to either side of his body, then took a deep breath. He didn't need to touch himself. He shouldn't be doing it. He should be waiting for Hannibal to give him that kind of pleasure. After all that was why he was here tonight.

Wasn't it? Wasn't he here for no other reason than to give himself up to his desires?

He wanted to give himself up to Hannibal in every way. He wanted to open himself to the other man; the idea that he could do that was a kind of freedom, making him feel giddy with discovery.

No one else had ever made him feel so strongly. He'd never wanted anyone else's hands on his body; he had always felt more inclined to hide himself from others, rather than opening up to them. Hannibal was the first person who had made him want intimacy.

Would Hannibal somehow know that he'd been touching himself in the shower? Will didn't doubt it; somehow, Hannibal seemed to be able to see right through him, to reach into his mind and pull out his deepest thoughts, his deepest desires.

Hannibal would know what he'd been doing -- and Hannibal would know what he wanted.

Right now, all he wanted was to be in Hannibal's bed. He wanted to feel those hands all over him, those lips on intimate areas of his body, Hannibal's cock inside him. He wanted to be filled, fucked, driven to the highest peaks of ecstasy before he came down again.

Nobody else could give him that, Will told himself, turning towards the spray and closing his eyes as he lifted his face. Nobody but Hannibal.

He didn't want to be with anyone else. Hannibal was the only man he wanted -- the only person he'd ever really wanted. Did that mean that he was meant to be with Hannibal? He didn't know, but they did seem to have some kind of connection.

He didn't hear the curtain being drawn back, didn't realize that Hannibal was there until he heard the other man's softly murmured words.

"Hello, sweet William.I thought I'd join you."

Will let himself lean back against Hannibal's chest, a soft moan slipping from his lips as those strong arms wrapped around his waist. His body was taut, desire running rampant through his veins, and he had no doubt that it would be assuaged now that Hannibal was here with him.

Hannibal would know exactly what he wanted without being told. Somehow, he always did; even when Will wasn't sure of just what he wanted, he could trust Hannibal to take the reins, to guide his desire into the path that it was meant to take.

"Make me feel," he whispered, closing his eyes and giving himself over to whatever would be.