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Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Author's Note: Sequel to "Everyone Can See."
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 squirmed in his seat, wishing that Hannibal would stop touching him. That wasn't something he usually wanted, but this was an odd situation. He had never expected to be sitting in a box at the opera house naked from the waist down.
He was just glad that no one could see into the box -- and that Hannibal had made it very obvious that he'd locked the door behind them. They wouldn't be disturbed; he had no doubt of that. But people were watching them as closely as they were watching the opera.
He kept his eyes trained on the stage, trying to pretend that everything was normal, but he couldn't stop the telltale blush that crept into his cheeks.
Will felt as though his face was burning, as though his expression shouted out loud and clear to everyone that Hannibal's hand was on his cock, slowly stroking him. Hannibal was also looking at the stage, but his hand was busy in Will's lap.
He was going to come if this kept up, and embarrass himself horribly.
If he did, would he be able to hold back a moan, or even a cry? It probably wouldn't be all that audible, but he didn't doubt that someone would hear it. And he didn't want anyone to have any confirmation that there was indeed something untoward happening here.
Most people were watching the action on the stage and listening to the music, but there were still some people who had their opera glasses trained on Hannibal's box. Will didn't know if they had some idea of what was happening, but he fervently hoped they were clueless.
What if the expression on his face told them that there was something happening that was hidden from view? The thought only made his blush deepen.
He couldn't let himself squirm; if he did, then it would be a dead giveaway. People might now know what Hannibal was doing to him, but they might start to get an idea of it, and he didn't want that. He wanted them to look calm and innocuous.
Fat chance of that, not with what Hannibal was doing.
His hand was moving up and down the shaft of Will's erect cock, stroking him slowly; whenever Will was sure that he couldn't stand it any longer, that he would come, Hannibal had a little trick that stopped his body from finding relief.
His hand would slide down to the base of Will's cock, grasping hm firmly, and squeeze gently. The gentle pressure kept building up until the urge to come lessened; after a few minutes, Hannibal would resume his stroking, not taking his eyes from the stage.
Will bit his lip as those fingers tightened around the base of his cock again; he wondered if he would be walking out his theater with his balls a lovely shade of blue.
Oh, he knew that Hannibal would give him the relief he needed when they were behind the closed doors of his house; that wasn't in doubt for a second. He knew that Hannibal's desire for him had to be raging by now, but he held it back well.
Hannibal knew how to stay calm and cool, to never let his feelings show.
Will wasn't so accomplished at hiding what he felt -- especially not when it was so close to the surface. He wished for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight that he had Hannibal's cool demeanor, that he could take things like this in stride without blinking an eye.
That was more easily said than done when he was the one who had to endure this stimulation and not let his outward expression show what his body was going through. If Hannibal had been in this position, would he still be so calm and collected?
Will seriously doubted it. Even Hannibal had his limits, and what he was dong to Will now would stretch anyone to the end of theirs.
He wanted to raise his hips, to find some relief from the constant stimulation, but he knew that if he did, he risked being seen by the people who were looking at the box rather than at the opera. So he had to stay still, and be sure to keep the lower part of his body out of sight.
He bit back another moan as Hannibal's thumb stroked over the tender tip of his cock.
Will could feel his balls tightening with each brush of Hannibal's thumb on every upward stroke; he was going to come in a very short time if this kept up, unless Hannibal stopped him. At this point, he didn't want it to stop.
No, he wanted, needed the release of an orgasm, even if it might make him inadvertently moan or cry out. He didn't know how he could explain that to anyone -- if people heard, and asked, then he would simply leave it to Hannibal to come up with an explanation.
That was Hannibal's job, anyway -- he was the one who had put Will in this situation, so he was the one who should have to explain away any questions.
His breath caught in his throat; his body was tightening, spiraling upwards. Will knew that he was close to the point of no return; this time, Hannibal was doing nothing to stop the orgasm that was rushing headlong towards him, threatening to take over his body.
One more stroke of those fingers, and he would be undone.
When it came, Will had to clench his teeth to hold back a cry of pleasure; his hands tightened on the arms of his chair until his knuckles were white. His entire body trembled, his hips jerked spasmodically; he was surprised that every head didn't swivel in their direction.
Of course, that might be because the first act was coming to an end; people were clapping, cheering, standing up. But of course, he couldn't do that -- not unless he wanted to expose himself to an entire opera house full of people.
Hannibal stood, clapping politely, a wide smile on his face. Will almost wanted to say something, but he didn't dare. He had no idea what Hannibal planned next, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to find out. He would just have to be patient, wait and see.
To his relief, Hannibal moved forward to pull the curtains closed; now he would be able to get the plug out, put his pants back on, and feel like a normal person again.
"Put your pants on, Will. I intend to show you off tonight."
"B-but aren't you going to ...." Will's voice trailed off as he realized exactly what Hannibal intended. Of course he wasn't going to remove the plug. He wanted Will to walk around during the intermission with the knowledge of it inside him, knowing that Hannibal owned him.
In a way, it was exciting -- but it was also humiliating, even though no one else knew the plug was there. He knew, and it would make him vastly uncomfortable. But that was what Hannibal wanted -- and what his lover wanted, he invariably got.
This was going to be a harrowing evening, Will thought to himself as he got to his feet and reached for his pants. And it wasn't even halfway over yet.
There was still the intermission to get through, and he knew that would last for a while. Then there was the second act, and the post-opera socializing. He was bad at being social at the best of time, and Hannibal knew that. It was one of the reasons they were here.
Yes, Hannibal wanted to show him off. That was part of it.
But his lover also wanted to make him uncomfortable -- and he couldn't have chosen a more perfect way to do so. This was going to be torture. Well, torture for him, anyway, Will thought wryly. Hannibal would more than likely enjoy every second of it.
He reached for the handkerchief that Hannibal was holding out to him, silently telling him to clean himself off before he got dressed again. He did so, trying to take his time, wanting the moments they spent out there in the crowd to be put off for as long as possible.
But he couldn't put them off forever. Slowly, he reached for his pants, pulling them on, then running a hand through his hair, hoping that he didn't look too disheveled.
"You look lovely, Will," Hannibal said softly, reaching for his hand. "I'm proud to take you out and show you off to the people here. I don't believe that anyone else here has a more beautiful date for the evening. You make me feel privileged to be with such a gorgeous man."
Will could feel the blush stealing into his cheeks again.
So Hannibal still thought he was beautiful, in spite of the humiliation he was making him endure tonight. It was enough to keep him going through the intermission, no matter what he had to deal with. Just knowing that Hannibal was proud of him brought a little glow to his heart.
If that was the case, then he would do Hannibal proud by holding his head high and proving himself worthy of the man who was his lover. Squaring his shoulders, Will followed Hannibal to the back of the box and out into the corridor beyond, masking his trepidation behind a smile.
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