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Title: We Might As Well Be Strangers
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Prompt: Story 06
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 rolled over onto his side, snuggling into the soft pillow under his cheek. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't in his own bed at home, with the sounds of the dogs shuffling around the house, and that this wasn't the pillow he was used to waking up on.
For just a moment, panic swept through him. Where was he? Why wasn't he at home? Had he lost time again? And why was he in a strange bed?
It took him a few seconds to remember where he was -- in Hannibal's house, in Hannibal's bed. They had spent the night together. Will's face flamed with the memory of all that they'd done last night; it all came back to him in a rush, everything that had happened during the darkened hours.
It had been the best night of his life.
He wanted to repeat it immediately, if not sooner. He wanted Hannibal inside him again, wanted those cool hands on his body, those warm lips on his. He wanted the other man to completely dominate him, body and soul, just as he had all during the night.
But somehow, he knew that wasn't going to happen. The fact that Hannibal wasn't still here in bed with him told him that, loudly and clearly.
He had the feeling that he was going to get dressed and go downstairs, see Hannibal either in the kitchen for breakfast or in his office, and that they would exchange polite "good mornings" as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them last night.
It had probably been a one-time thing for Hannibal, simply an experiment. Will couldn't imagine that this suave, debonair man who could more than likely have anyone he wanted would actually want him, as broken and damaged as he was.
No, last night had been the one and only time he would know Hannibal's touch, the one time they would be intimate. He couldn't let himself believe that it would ever happen again. This morning, instead of being lovers, they might as well be strangers.
It was a horribly depressing thought.
He didn't want that kind of a relationship with Hannibal. He didn't want to back off and forget what they'd done with each other last night. He didn't want them to go back to having that polite, friendly, but slightly wary kind of relationship they'd had before the ice had been broken.
He'd given his virginity to Hannibal last night; it had been the first time he'd even considered being that intimate with anyone. He had never gone beyond a little kissing and groping before -- and Hannibal was the first man he'd ever thought about having sex with.
It still didn't seem real; it almost felt like last night had been a dream, disappearing into ephemeral memory this morning with the coming of the dawn. But it hadn't been a dream, Will told himself. IT had been real. It had to be. If it wasn't, then he wouldn't have awakened in Hannibal's bed.
Besides, his body bore the obvious marks of their intimacy. He couldn't deny that Hannibal had relieved him of his virginity last night.
Not when his body was still so deliciously sore.
It hadn't hurt as much as he'd thought it would. It had at first, but the pain had quickly morphed into pleasure, a pleasure that he hadn't wanted to stop. He had wanted it to go on and on, until he expired from it. He'd wanted to overdose on that pleasure, to lose himself in it.
But it had ended, all too soon, and Hannibal had left one last burning kiss upon his lips, then rolled over and gone to sleep. At least, Will thought that was what he had done; he'd been too dazed by what he'd just experienced to really know what had happened after that.
He must have fallen asleep at some point -- and now, he'd awakened alone. There were no signs of activity in the bedroom; maybe Hannibal hadn't gotten dressed in here.
He was probably downstairs in the kitchen now, making breakfast as though it was an ordinary day, as though there wasn't a man upstairs in his bed, as though he wouldn't have company for breakfast. Maybe he wasn't expecting that. Will didn't know what to think.
Maybe Hannibal thought that he would simply leave, get dressed and go to work without a word. But he wasn't going to do that -- for one thing, it would be rude, and for another, he needed to talk to the man who'd become his lover last night.
He couldn't just walk out and pretend that nothing had happened.
If Hannibal expected that, then he didn't know the man he'd taken to bed at all. And whose fault was that? Will asked himself with a sigh. He had never been good at letting people get close, Hannibal included. Even in all of those psychiatric sessions, he'd never really opened up.
Not until last night -- and then, he'd opened up in a very different way. A way that he'd never expected to do. It had probably shocked Hannibal as well.
But it was done now, and there was no turning back. Talking to Hannibal this morning might be awkward, but it had to be done .And even though Will felt as if they might as well be strangers now, he was still determined to get this awkwardness out of the way.
This wasn't going to be easy, but then, opening up to anyone, even the man who was now his lover, never was. Not for him. Letting anyone into his life had never been an easy decision for him to make, but he'd gone too far with Hannibal to turn back now.
Hannibal was already in his life, for better or for worse. There was no denying that fact. Though if Hannibal chose to act as though last night had never happened, Will would go along with his decision. He really didn't see where he had any choice in the matter.
He hoped that wouldn't happen. He didn't want to face rejection.
He wanted the two of them to get even closer, to be lovers in every sense of the word -- though with his own intimacy problems, and with Hannibal's reticence, he knew that wouldn't be easy. But Will couldn't help feeling that they both owed it to themselves to try.
They might feel like strangers now, but they could get the intimacy of last night back. He was sure of it. They just had to reach out and be prepared to meet each other halfway.
Sighing again, he sat up, pushing the covers back and running a hand through his hair. He was going to take a shower, get dressed, and go down to the kitchen to talk with Hannibal. He could only hope that their talk would go in the direction he wanted them to take.
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