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Pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
Author's Note: One-shot.
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.
***"You really should let me dress you."
Will couldn't help but smile at those words, even while his heart seemed to jump from his chest into his throat. Could Hannibal possibly mean what he'd just said, or was he teasing? Somehow, being a tease didn't seem at all like Hannibal's style.
"Or better yet, you should let me undress you." Hannibal's voice was closer this time, almost a purr in Will's ear. It startled him to realize that the other man was standing directly behind him, so close that Will could feel the heat emanating from his body.
Close and hot, so close that Will could lean back into his arms if he so chose. And he had no doubt that those arms would slide around him if he did.
He could feel Hannibal's breath against the back of his neck, those lips so close to his skin that they were almost brushing against his hair. Against his better judgment, Will wanted nothing more than to turn around and meet those lips with his own.
He had to force himself not to turn around, to stand still and keep facing forward.
"I think you'd look even more beautiful without your clothes," Hannibal continued, placing both hands on Will's shoulders. "I'd certainly like to find out if that's true. If you give me that chance, Will, I promise that you won't be disappointed."
Will's breath hitched in his throat; for a moment, he couldn't speak, couldn't even draw breath. His sense whirled, shocking almost making him reel.
Hannibal wanted him. Those words signified desire; Hannibal wouldn't say something like that just to joke or to tease. If he said those words, then he meant them. The desire in his voice couldn't simply be a figment of Will's imagination.
"I might be the one who disappoints you," he pointed out, his voice hoarse and breathy. Suddenly, it was hard to speak, hard to force words out around a tongue that had suddenly become dry and unwieldy in his mouth. "You might not like what you see."
"I don't believe that for a moment," Hannibal told hm, raising one hand to thread his fingers through Will's dark curls. "I'm quite sure that once I get you undressed, I won't be disappointed at all. You have a lovely body with your clothes on. Without them, I'm sure you're even lovelier."
No, he couldn't mistake those words for anything but desire.
Hannibal's hands were moving down his arms; that touch was making Will shiver, his body responding to the gentle touch in a way he hadn't expected. He wanted Hannibal; he'd known that for a while now, but he'd never expected that desire to reach such a fever pitch so soon.
He wanted those hands all over him, from head to toe. He wanted to be out of his clothes, his limbs entwined with Hannibal in the sumptuously comfortable bed that he knew was upstairs in Hannibal's bedroom, even though he'd never seen it.
A man like Hannibal would want only the best; Will didn't doubt that his personal space was more comfortable than anything he could possibly imagine. Hannibal didn't deny himself.
But if he was a man who only wanted the best, then why would he bother with wanting Will Graham? He definitely wasn't a top-of-the-line specimen; he couldn't fathom just why Hannibal would want him, why this man would speak to him in a voice drenched with desire.
Hannibal could probably talk anyone into anything; he could have anyone he wanted, if he put his mind to seducing them. No one would be able to resist him; Will hadn't been able to, and he had always thought that he was pretty good at putting up walls between himself and the world.
Then again, Hannibal was even better at breaking down those walls.
"Let me undress you, Will." Hannibal's voice was soft and sexy, going from a purr to a caress. His hands had moved to the buttons on Will's shirt, starting to undo them, first the top one, then the second, then the third. It would only take a few moments for the front of his shirt to be opened.
Every fiber of Will's being was telling him to run, that this was a dangerous situation. His better judgment was telling him that to give in would be a huge mistake.
But he couldn't stop himself. He didn't know why those inner alarms were going off; Hannibal had never made a move like this towards him before, and he was sure tha tthere was no reason for him to be wary of this man. It was ridiculous to feel that this wasn't safe.
He'd never been with a man before -- he'd never been with anyone before. Having Hannibal Lecter as his first lover surely couldn't be a bad thing; Hannibal was obviously practiced at the art of seduction, and he would know how to make this a good experience.
There was nothing to be afraid of. Absolutely nothing.
And yet he was afraid, without knowing exactly why. There was something about this situation that didn't feel quite right, something that set off flashing red lights that all said DANGER in capital letters. He didn't know why, but fear was starting to rise, choking back his words.
Ruthlessly, Will pushed that fear down, shook it away. This was Hannibal, the man he'd wanted ever since they had first met. There was no reason for him to back away. He was being silly, letting his fear of intimacy overshadow his desires.
If he backed away now, he might never have this chance again. He would never know what it was like to be with Hannibal, never know the ecstasy of his embrace.
His shirt was off now; Hannibal's hands were moving down, his fingers brushing against the obvious bulge in Will's jeans, unbuttoning his jeans and reaching for the zipper. And Will wasn't protesting, wasn't struggling. It was as though he was frozen in place.
He was going to let this happen. After all, it was what he wanted -- wasn't it? He'd dreamed of this, but those dreams had come nowhere the reality of how it felt to be here in this room, with Hannibal standing right behind him, touching him, undressing him.
Will knew what was coming next. They would go upstairs, and Hannibal would undress, too. Then he would spend the night in Hannibal's bed, giving up his innocence.
He wanted this to happen. He wasn't going to turn away from a dream come true.
Will gasped as Hannibal pushed his jeans down; he hadn't expected the movement to be so quick. He was now naked in the circle of the other man's arms; he was right where he'd wanted to be for so long, and the fear was starting to fade.
His cock was already hard, his body more than ready for whatever Hannibal was going to do to him. He wasn't afraid of whatever might be ahead; rather, he was impatient for the experience. After relying on fantasy for so long, he was finally going to have the reality.
This was what he wanted. This was what he'd always wanted, from the first moment his gaze and Hannibal's had met. This was his destiny.
This was his design.
This was fated to be. He had to think that; there was nothing else that could have led him to this man, nothing else that could have made him so completely Hannibal's. He was meant to be here; Hannibal was his destiny, one that he couldn't turn away from.
Everything in his life had led him here, to be in this man's arms, in his bed. Whatever Hannibal wanted, he would give in to. He had given himself completely, heart and soul, and his body would follow. By the end of this night, he would belong to Hannibal in every possible way.
That thought should frighten him, but it didn't. It only filled him with desire, a desire that he couldn't quench, a desire that was rising higher with each passing moment.
He had let Hannibal undress him. Now, he was going to let Hannibal have him. And strangely, he wasn't afraid of that thought at all. Apprehensive, yes; he knew that a part of this might be painful, but he hoped that the pain would fade away quickly and become pleasure.
He would simply have to trust Hannibal and let him lead the way.
Hannibal took his head and tugged slightly to turn him around; Will faced him, a small smile curving his lips to match the smile on Hannibal's face. Without another word, Hannibal led the way up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom, closing the door behind them.
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