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Title: Melting in the Sun
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
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 closed his eyes, wondering what would come next. He should never have turned away from Hannibal; with his back turned, he couldn't see into those eyes, couldn't figure out just what the enigmatic man standing behind him might do next.
But he never knew what was in Hannibal's mind, did he?
It was easy enough for Hannibal to delve into his mind; he did that on an almost daily basis now. But Will had never really been granted entry into his.
Why was that? Did Hannibal have something to hide? Was there some reason that he always kept his emotions hidden, or was that just something he did without realizing it? Will didn't know what to think; even now, when they might be intimate, Hannibal showed no emotion.
Was he really that cold, or was it just an act that he was putting on, a front that he kept up to hide himself away from the world? Will desperately wanted to break down that reserve, to find out what made Hannibal tick. He wanted to know everything about this man.
He didn't stop to think that knowing everything could be extremely dangerous.
Will could feel Hannibal close behind him; the warmth of the other man's body seemed to seep into his, even though only a few moments before, when he'd first come into the house, he'd felt thoroughly chilled. Amazing what the nearness of someone he desired could do to him.
Maybe this was wrong. Maybe he would regret it later, but he wasn't going to hold back his desires any more. He couldn't. If he did, then he would drive himself with wanting -- and those desires might come out in a way that he didn't want anyone to see.
From what he could tell, Hannibal wanted him just as much, but he shouldn't judge the other man's feelings by just one kiss. He had tasted desire in that kiss, but he couldn't be sure if that was only because he wanted this so badly, or because it was actually there.
What did Hannibal feel for him? Was he brave enough to ask, point-blank, in so many words? Or did he have to continually dance around the subject?
He didn't want to keep dancing. He wanted to know, here and now, in no uncertain terms. He needed to know if this was just a game that Hannibal was playing, or if he was serious about a seduction -- because he could feel himself being seduce, slowly and thoroughly.
Not only seduce. He was being captured, held prisoner by his own desire.
And he liked it. He didn't want this seduction to stop.
"I know what you want, Will." Hannibal's voice was a sibilant whisper in the grey dawn of early morning, the sound bouncing off the walls of the kitchen just as the sunlight would when it began to shine through the windowpane. "Are you brave enough to ask for what you need?"
Will didn't want to answer that question; he wasn't sure if he could. The one word he'd been able to speak felt as though it had left his lips hours ago; it seemed impossible that it had only been uttered within the last few moments, a word of promise and surrender.
But he knew that he had to say that word again, to confirm Hannibal's question and let the other man know that he did indeed want this. Wherever these moments might lead, he had stepped onto a path that enclosed him, one that he couldn't turn away from.
Will nodded, then spoke, the single word trembling on his lips. "Yes."
Then, with a suddenness that was almost shocking, he felt Hannibal's hands unbuttoning his shirt, making quick work of it, those cool, smooth hands sliding down his chest to his belly. Touching him in a way that no one else he'd been with ever had.
Will closed his eyes, surrendering himself to that touch. He never wanted anyone else to touch him. Not after this. He wanted this touch to be etched on his body and soul forever.
This was how he'd always dreamed of being touched, a caress that made him feel as though his body was melting in the sun, the heat of Hannibal's body and the coolness of his hands combing to reduce him to nothing more than pure sensation.
He gave himself over to that pleasure, letting all of his defenses fall away.
Another moment, and those hands were unzipping his jeans, then pushing them down his hips to pool around his ankles, leaving him bare from the waist down. He felt no shame, no urge to cover himself; he only wanted more of that touch, the touch that was reducing him to ashes.
Then Hannibal's hand was on his cock, cool fingers curling around his erection; he could feel Hannibal's own erection pressed against his ass, hard, insistent.
It didn't matter that he was half-naked and Hannibal was still fully clothed. Will had never felt so vulnerable in his life, as though he was putty in Hannibal's hands. At this moment, he knew that he would let the other man do whatever he wanted, no matter ehat it might be.
He would offer himself to Hannibal like a lamb to the slaughter.
The hand on his cock was drawing an involuntary response from not only his body, but his mind as well; his hips jerked forward, as though he was trying to get even closer to the man who held him. Hannibal's fingers tightened around him, then began to stroke.
A soft groan broke from Will's lips, his head falling back onto Hannibal's shoulder. If the other man hadn't had one arm around his waist, he was sure that he would have crumpled to the floor; his legs were like water, unable to hold him up on their own.
Hannibal's thumb was swirling over the tip of his penis, then those cool fingers slid down to the base, each languid stroke clasping him tightly, then releasing. His body was tightening, his senses spiraling; it would only be a matter of moments before he reached a climax.
"Do you need more, Will?" Hannibal breathed into his ear. "Do you want more of me? Do you want me inside you? All you need do is ask, and you'll have what you need."
He didn't want to say that one word. It would bring the world down around him.
But he had to say it. He couldn't hold the word back; it rose to his lips unbidden, even though Will wasn't at all sure that was what he wanted. It would change everything; his relationship with Hannibal would cross a line that there was no coming back from.
Even as that thought rose to the forefront of his mind, his orgasm broke over him like a crashing wave, his body trembling in Hannibal's arms. He felt dizzy, disoriented, not sure whether he was still standing on his own, or if Hannibal was all that was holding him up.
He was melting in the sun, and he wasn't sure that he would ever be able to put all the pieces of himself that seemed to be falling at his feet back together again. He was undone, unhinged, falling apart in a way that he'd never thought one single person would ever have the power to make him feel.
He was caught in a trap that he didn't want to be freed from.
"What do you want, Will?" Hannibal's voice was soft, insinuating. "Tell me, or the moment will pass. And we may not be able to go back to it again."
The suddenness of his orgasm had taken Will by surprised; he blinked, opening his eyes and trying to focus. He barely heard Hannibal's words at first, until they coalesced inside his head and he realized that he had to say something, that he couldn't remain silent.
He had to speak. If he kept hesitating, he might never get what he needed.
Will took a deep breath, closing his eyes and forcing the words out. "I want you inside me," he rasped, his tongue feeling oddly hesitant, as though it wanted to hold the words back, rather than get them out in the open. "Please."
There it was again, the one word that he knew Hannibal wanted to hear. The one word that he knew he shouldn't say, the word that would reduce him to a pleading mess and give the other man the upper hand. The word that was so hard to bring into reality.
He hated to beg. But that was what he'd been reduced to -- and he knew that if he was forced to do so, he would get down on his knees and plead with Hannibal to take him. He was past the point of no return, and now, his fate was sealed. There was no going back.
"Please," he whispered again. "Please. I need you."
He was in Hannibal's hands now, for better or for worse.
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