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Title: This Wheel's on Fire
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Fandom: Hannibal
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1drabble
Prompt: 2, Fire
Author's Note: Sequel to "Link."
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 whimpered as Hannibal's hands and lips moved down his body; he couldn't move, could barely breathe. All he could do was feel.

This was what he wanted, what he'd been aching for all day long.

He felt as though he was a wheel, turning around around all day, and now that he was finally with Hannibal, he was spinning uncontrollably.

This wheel was on fire, and he didn't know how to put the flames out. Rather, he didn't want to put them out; he wanted them to flare higher and higher, out of control, until they consumed him completely and left no more than a pile of blackened ash behind.

He was burning from the inside out, the fire within him threatening to consume him from head to toe. All he wanted was for Hannibal to take him, to join their bodies.

But he wasn't going to beg for it.

He might be on fire, but he wouldn't plead. He'd discovered long since that pleading would only make his lover take his time, as though to draw out his neediness until he was sure that he couldn't take it any more, that he would explode from the buildup of desire.

Will arched his back, raising his hips off the bed. And in the next moment, found himself flipped over onto his stomach, pressed down against the pillows.

He hadn't expected that. He barely had time to draw breath before Hannibal's hands were moving down his back, stroking his skin lightly.

Will drew in one deep breath, then another. Those fingertips were trailing flames down his back; he was positive that he could feel his flesh burning with desire everywhere those hands touched, those hands that brought him such pleasure ....
Those hands that could work magic on his body.

The wheel was turning, around and around, starting to spin wildly out of control. In another few moments, he would be writhing, groaning, and begging.

Yes, begging. He didn't care if that touch reduced him to begging; if that was the only way he could have Hannibal, then he would gladly lower himself to beg and grovel for what he needed. He couldn't keep going like this, knowing what he he needed and being denied.

This wheel was on fire, and he would do whatever he had to do for his desire to be assuaged, even if that meant turning himself into a whining, desperate mass of need.

It would be worth the begging to get what he wanted so badly.

The fire rose in him as Hannibal's hands continued to move on his burning flesh; within just a few seconds, Will knew that the wheel would be burning even more fiercely, spinning entirely out of control.