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Title: No Shame
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Author's Note: Sequel to "Owned."
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 hated this. He really, really hated this.
Will had to force himself to smile and nod at people, all the while wishing that he was anywhere but walking around the opera house. He held a glass of brandy in his hand; he wished that he could simply toss it back and get another.
But that wouldn't do, not here. He couldn't appear to be eager to get drunk. He had to keep up appearances, or Hannibal would be displeased. And he didn't want to deal with his lover's displeasure; Hannibal already had enough surprises in store for him.
He had no idea what would happen when intermission was over and they went back to the box, but he could imagine. He didn't want to think about it.
He was already uncomfortable enough; there was no telling what else Hannibal had planned for the evening. Will just hoped that he wasn't instructed to close the curtains again; he was sure that he knew what would happen if he did.
Hannibal would take the plug out and then fuck him, and it would probably be more than obvious to every person in the opera house just what was going on behind those closed curtains. He was sure that everyone thought they had already done the deed.
Well, they'd come close, that was for sure.
Will had no doubt that they would have sex before the night was over -- and before they went back to Hannibal's house. That was more than likely what Hannibal had brought him here for; he didn't think it had been merely so Hannibal could show him off.
Though his lover seemed to enjoy doing just that at the moment. Hannibal looked proud of him, and Will couldn't help but respond to that.
Hannibal seemed to take pride in introducing Will to people he knew; Will had somehow expected him to not want those introductions to be made, as though he was trying to tell people that Will was merely his possession, not someone he had a personal relationship with.
Yet Hannibal's hand was on his lower back, occasionally strayed down to his ass, pushing slightly against the plug, pushing it deeper inside him. Will couldn't help squirming slightly, more than a little uncomfortable when it prodded against his prostate.
"I wish you wouldn't do that," he whispered when he and Hannibal found themselves alone in a corner of the room. "I don't think you want any .... errr, accidents."
"Of course not," Hannibal said smootlhy, nodding at an acquaintance. "But that won't happen."
"How can you be so sure?" Will said, hoping that he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. "If you keep that up, I'm not going to have a lot of self-control. I know this is just meant to show me off as your possession, but you can't expect me to --"
"What?" Hannibal turned to him with an expression of surprise. "Will, I brought you here because I wanted to show everyone how beautiful you are. Not as my possession, but as my lover. No one here doubts that we are involved -- and they all envy me."
Will couldn't keep back a blush at those words; he liked hearing Hannibal say things like that. "I figured you just brought me here to show people your newest plaything."
Hannibal shook his head, sighing softly. "That's not why I brought you here at all, Will." His tone was quiet, even and steady. "I brought you here because I'm proud of being with you. Because I want to show to the world what a beautiful man I am with."
Will swallowed hard, his throat tightening. He had completely misjudged Hannibal; he was ashamed of the thoughts he'd had, of what he had accused his lover of doing. "I'm sorry," he said, keeping his voice soft. "I didn't think you were ... proud of me."
Hannibal's dark eyes searched his face, the older man's expression grave.
"Of course I'm proud of you, Will." His voice was still quiet, but the words were strong and firm. "If I was not, then you wouldn't be here with me. I would hide you away, and not let anyone know that we are involved. I wanted to show you because I take pride in the man I care for."
Was that affection he heard in Hannibal's voice? He really hadn't expected that -- nor had he dared to think he would ever hear the words that Hannibal was speaking now. He had never dared to hope that this man would say he cared for him.
It wasn't the same as Hannibal saying that he loved him, but caring was a prelude to love. It was part of love. It would do, for now. And it was a huge concession on Hannibal's part to admit to even having those tender feelings.
He had to blink back tears at the realization. Hannibal might be trying to make him feel uncomfortable at the moment, but maybe he had his reasons.
Or maybe he just enjoyed seeing Will squirm, knowing that he had power over his lover. If that was the case, then Will would let him have that power, that control. He would make his lover happy. After all, it wasn't as though he had any choice in the matter.
In a way, a part of him was even enjoying this.
Not the humiliation, of course -- though he had to ask himself just why he felt embarrassed. No one knew what was really going on; they'd kept that well-hidden. They might guess, they might conjecture, but there was no proof. They had been fairly circumspect.
But it probably hadn't been hard for people to surmise that they were doing something behind those closed curtains. Hence the smirks and stares.
Will cleared his throat, holding his head high. Hannibal was proud of him; Hannibal wanted him to be here, to show off their relationship to people who knew him. He had nothing to be ashamed of; he was proud to be with this man, proud to be his lover.
Yes, he was a little uncomfortable with the games that Hannibal played, but if he didn't play those games, then he wouldn't be Hannibal. Those games were a part of him; they were what made him the person he was. Will had to accept that fact.
He wasn't going to act embarrassed, when he didn't need to be. He was going to circulate amongst these people, as though he was one of them, with no shame.
After all, that was what Hannibal wanted of him.
"I don't care what all these people think of me," he said softly, his words meant only for Hannibal's ears. "Or what they think of us being a couple. The only person whose opinion matters to me is you. As long as you care about me and want to be with me, then nothing else matters."
He was sure that he could see a gleam of appreciation in Hannibal's eyes, a warmth that had never been there before. Or maybe it had been there all along, and he just hadn't seen it.
"In that case," Hannibal told him, a smile on his lips, "we should go back to our box and settle in for the second act. I was going to suggest that we do just that; I do happen to have a few more plans that I'd like to take place before the act starts."
Will could feel his breath catch in his throat; he was fairly certain he knew what those plans were, and even though he was a little hesitant to see them carried out, a part of him was eager to see what they would be, and how the plan would be executed.
This was turning out to be a much more interesting night than he'd anticipated.
Hannibal placed a hand on Will's lower back as they moved back towards the steps that led to the entrance of the box; he could feel Hannibal's hand move down to rest on the curve of his ass, surreptitiously pushing the plug more deeply into him. He had to bite back a soft moan.
The two of them made their way up the stairs silently, then down the deserted corridor. Will was breathing heavily, his heart thumping in his chest. When the door to the box was locked and the curtains were closed, anything could happen. Anything at all.
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