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Title: Primal Need
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.

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Will moaned as Hannibal's hands moved down his body, then back up again, from his hips to his chest. Those hands would touch him in all kinds of intimate ways tonight, and he welcomed every one of them. He needed Hannibal's touch, needed to be with him.

He needed to forget everything else that was going on his life. Just for tonight.

His entire life felt as though it was falling to pieces; the only part of it that felt real was his relationship with Hannibal. He needed to have something steady and stable in his life, something that he could hold on to, and for now, Hannibal was it.

He'd never known anyone as steady and reliable as this man was. Hannibal had held out a lifeline to him, and he had no choice but to take it and hold on for dear life.

Those hands were moving down his hips now, down to his inner thighs, stroking his skin, eliciting shudders of desire through his entire body. Hannibal knew just how to touch him; no one could rouse his desire to a fever pitch the way that this man could.

No one else had ever been given the chance, Will told himself. And no one else ever would be. Hannibal was the only man he wanted; he couldn't see himself with anyone else. No one else could ever make him feel like this; there was no reason to ever want another lover.

Will choked back a cry as Hannibal's fingers closed around his erection; he had already touched himself, but that didn't feel half as good as having Hannibal touch him.

He wanted to thrust his hips forward into Hannibal's hand, but he didn't dare.

He was sure that if Hannibal was touching him like this, then the other man had definite plans for what was intended to happen, and Will didn't want to interfere with those plans in any way. He had put himself into those capable hands, and he was willing to go along with whatever Hannibal did.

Strange that he could trust Hannibal so much, when he made it a point never to trust anyone. But in the relatively short time that they'd known each other, and the even shorter time that they'd been intimate, Hannibal had managed to break down those walls.

There were no protective barriers around him now, physically or otherwise. Hannibal could have his way with him, and Will knew that he was helpless to stop whatever might happen.

He wanted it that way, he told himself. He didn't want to stop Hannibal; if he balked or pulled back now, this intimacy might stop forever, and that would destroy him. He needed this, needed Hannibal like he needed the very air he breathed.

"I believe that you've been touching yourself," Hannibal whispered into Will's ear, his voice soft. "You shouldn't be doing that, Will. You should have waited for me to touch you. I may have to punish you for that. You should know better than to misbehave."

Will opened his mouth to say that he hadn't realized he was misbehaving, then closed it without speaking. He doubted that his words would carry any weight. And if he spoke, he might break the tension that was flowing around them, the delicious tension that made his body quiver.

He was trembling from head to toe with the effort to hold himself back.

But he had to. He didn't want to lose control so soon; that would probably only make Hannibal turn away from him, and he couldn't bear that. He'd waited too long for this; the last few days felt like an eternity. He needed to be with Hannibal, needed what only this man could give him.

"So beautifully smooth," Hannibal murmured, his free hand moving back up Will's body to his chest, pinching at the delicate pink buds of his nipples. "Such a lovely body. I've thought about this night, Will. I've dreamed of having you all to myself."

Will wasn't sure whether than sounded ominous, or wonderful. Maybe it had elements of both; the words made him feel delirious, weak at the knees.

He hadn't realized that with each word he spoke, Hannibal had been turning him towards the shower wall; this was the largest shower he'd ever been in, so large that it was easy for them both to move around comfortably. He gasped when he was pushed forward, colliding with the cool tiles.

Will raised his hands to press his palms against the tiles, turning his face to the side, away from the spray. He closed his eyes, feeling the cool, wet tiles under his cheek, sure that he knew what Hannibal planned to do with him, his heart racing at the thought.

Hannibal was going to fuck him, here in the shower. Hannibal was going to enter him and take him, just like he'd done when Will was bent over that table, and again on the couch in his office. Hannibal would be inside him -- and that was exactly where Will wanted him.

He needed to be fucked, to be filled, to be taken. He needed it more than he'd ever needed anything, even though he hadn't even thought about sex in relation to himself for a long time before he'd been with this man. Hannibal seemed to bring out his sexual side.

Hannibal brought out a primal need in him that was almost frightening.

He could hear the slight pop as the cap on a tube of what he assumed was lube was opened; trust Hannibal to be prepared. He must have gotten some lube that was specifically formulated for use in a shower before Will had even considered that this could happen.

He gasped again as not one but two fingers entered him, more roughly than he'd thought they would. That was more than a likely the residual anger Hannibal no doubt was still harboring; he just hoped that anger wouldn't end up being turned fully on him.

It wouldn't be, Will told himself firmly. He hadn't done anything wrong. He wasn't the one Hannibal was angry at; it was this stalker who was disrupting their lives.

Within moments, he was pushing his hips back against those fingers, unaware that he was whimpering with each movement. He needed more than what Hannibal was giving him; just two fingers inside him wasn't nearly enough. He needed Hannibal's cock, needed to be thoroughly filled.

"Only a few sessions, and you've already become desperate for my cock, haven't you, sweet William?" Will wanted to nod in agreement, but he resisted the impulse. Better to keep Hannibal guessing, not to let him know that Will was completely under his spell.

Though he probably already knew. There was no doubt that he was fully in control; Will hardly knew that he was keening with need when those fingers slipped out of him and Hannibal stepped closer, his erection pressing against Will's bottom.

He cried out when Hannibal entered him, his fingers clawing for purchase on the smooth tiles and finding none. His muscles tightened around the intrusion, the feeling of being deliciously filled seeping through his senses, making him moan aloud.

Each thrust was lifting him to the sky, each movement pure bliss.

Hannibal's hands were on his, holding him in place; all he could do was stand there and let himself be fucked, pushing his hips back into each thrust with an eagerness he hadn't known he could feel. Each thrust was harder as Hannibal drove into him relentlessly.

This should hurt, but it didn't. It felt wonderful, as though being taken was a kind of release, a gift that his lover gave him to lift him out of this world and into another.

The tiles were cool beneath his cheek and against the front of his body, as compared to the heat of Hannibal behind him, pushing into him. Hannibal's hands seemed to elicit heat everywhere they touched; he was burning from the inside out.

His orgasm was coiling in the pit of his belly, the pleasure starting to make him slip away. If this went on for much longer, he was sure that he'd pass out in Hannibal's arms, with the other man still pumping into him, his body offering no resistance.

When he came, he literally saw stars; sparks flashed before his eyes, and he was sure that he was going to collapse in a heap the moment Hannibal pulled out of him. But that didn't happen; he merely leaned against the wall, his legs rubbery, unable to stand on his own.

Will barely felt it when Hannibal's arms wrapped around his waist; he was still trembling from the aftershock of the strongest orgasm he'd ever had. He thought that it was possible he cuold fall to pieces at any second; if he moved, he would fall apart, disintegrate into the water swirling around his feet.

But he didn't pass out, and he didn't fall apart. He merely leaned back into Hannibal's arms, and felt those soft lips brush across his forehead.

"I believe you've earned the right to have a bit of rest before we continue this, Will. Go to my bedroom, and I'll join you there shortly. I still have a few things to do. I merely wanted to join you here to give us both pleasure as an entreé to the rest of the evening."

Hannibal's voice was very soft, but it carried an undertone of command.

Will knew that he couldn't put up any resistance; if he did, then Hannibal might tell him to leave, that their evening was over. He couldn't deal with being alone tonight; he needed to be here with Hannibal. His body was already craving more; he couldn't leave it at this.

Hannibal stepped out of the shower, leaving the water on. Will could heard him drying off, then wrapping a towel around himself. Seconds later, he heard the door open and softly close again; he slumped against the tiles, raising a fist to his mouth and biting down on his knuckles.

He'd been well and thoroughly fucked, but his body still craved more pf his lover. What was wrong with him? Was he such a slut that he couldn't get enough, now that the floodgates had finally been opened? Or was he only this way for Hannibal, and no one else?

Of course he was only this way with Hannibal. No one else could elicit such a reaction from him; he would never want another person in this way, not ever again.

Hannibal filled a primal need within him, a need that he would have never known existed if they had never met. How had he managed to deal with life before he'd met Hannibal? In the short time they'd been involved, he belonged to the other man in every way -- mind, body and soul.

Slowly, he bent to turn off the water, then stepped out onto the fluffy bath mat. He reached for a towel, drying himself off almost absently, suddenly feeling reluctant to leave this room. He didn't know what to expect when eh went to Hannibal's bedroom, and that scared him a little.

Scared? Why should he be scared of the man who was his lover? That was ridiculous, Will told himself firmly. True, Hannibal hadn't been gentle here in the shower, but he wasn't a man given to tenderness. That wasn't something he should expect.

His heart was already racing, his body hardening in anticipation.

He started to wrap a towel around himself, then almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Hannibal had already seen him naked; they had fucked right here in the shower. There was no reason to cover himself up; they'd gone far past any reason for modesty.

Will opened the bathroom door, looking around and not seeing Hannibal. He had no idea where the other man was, but he was sure that he'd find out soon enough. Silently, he made his way down the hall to Hannibal's bedroom, his heart thudding, hoping that the wait wouldn't be long.

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