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Act Your Age

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He stepped into the coffee shop, and the young student was immediately captivated. His soft doze turned sharp, everything snapping into focus as he stared at the older man. He was terribly out of place in the worn-down establishment. Someone in that nice of a jacket and slacks did not belong in a café with mismatching cups and burlap sacks stapled to the walls. He ducked his head quickly, staring down at the textbook in front of him as the man looked throughout the busy place. Will swore that his eyes lingered on him a little longer than necessary, before turning to examine some of the art for sale.

And still, the textbook could not stop his traitorous eyes as they flicked to the man again, short stuttering glances as he took in his appearance. There was no median in his bone structure. The hollows of his cheeks were cut deeply, his jaw sharp and marked by the barest hint of stubble. His eyes dropped back to the textbook again, squeezing shut for a few seconds before resting on the man again. Just a second too long. Eyes snapped to his and held him captive before he could even dream of looking away. A sharp knowing power lingered in the quirk of his lips and glowing of his eyes. The expression wasn’t mean, but inspired a flush across the younger’s cheeks nonetheless. He broke the charged gaze as quickly as he could, but that didn’t stop the well put together man from advancing upon him.

He looked down to the journal in his lap, shaky hand jotting meaningless notes until long fingers splayed over the edge of his table. His hands fumbled in his rush to pull the headphones out of his ears, eyes slowly tracing up from his well-manicured fingers to the man’s face. Once he finally met his eyes, his lips were transformed into a full smile, giving his god-like face a warmth that made Will’s head spin. “Posso comprarti un caffè?” The Italian rolled off his tongue effortlessly. Something about his rough posh accent wrapping around the words sent Will into a daze for a few seconds, before he forced himself to speak.

“Mi dispiace. I dont speak much Italian.”

“May I buy you a coffee?” He switched languages effortlessly and without further comment, making his mouth dry slightly. “And perhaps sit?” In English his heavily accented voice was even more intoxicating. “Unless you’re too busy with studying of course.” The knowing glint in his eyes made him feel like he had very little choice in the matter. He nodded jerkily as the man closed his fingers around his mug and returned to the line.

He continued to stare at his wide shoulders. The well tailored jacket shifting across the muscles in his back and arms, hair well kept and slicked back. He spoke effortlessly to the barista, gesturing with a smile until even she bloomed under his charm. Will continued to stare until he tossed a glance over his shoulder, eyebrow quirked and head inclined slightly. That spurred him into movement, cheeks on fire as he threw all his stuff into his bag and entertained himself on his phone until he returned to the table. He set down the mugs and took off his jacket, reclining against the chair across from him with an easy smile.

“Hopefully, that was the right order, thats what the barista told me to get.” The corner’s of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “I’m Hannibal by the way.”

“I’m Will, nice to meet you.” He slid his hand into Hannibal’s extended one, his skin smooth and warm. They fell into easy silence as they sipped on their coffee, Will sneaking glances while Hannibal glanced around the café. “This doesn’t seem like a place you’d normally be at.” He settled on finally, shifting as those heated amber eyes slid back to him. “I take you for more of a man of the arts, someone I’d see at the opera.”

A soft chuckle was his reward, making a soft smile play on his lips as he sipped at his coffee. “I do love the opera, but I was taking a walk and this was the closest place.” He shrugged and raised his mug slightly. “A coffee sounded nice.” His eyes slid minutely down Will’s body. If it was possible, he felt his flush get hotter, starting to spread down his neck and chest. “It seems I made the right choice coming to this café.”

His eyes widened slightly, staring at the man across from him as he was pinned in his gaze over the rim of his coffee cup. Just for a moment, a predatory glint morphed those warm eyes into hard crystals, a primal type of panic welling up in Will’s chest. He blinked and it was gone, the panic quieted and he took a sip of his coffee to calm himself. Hannibal finished his coffee and stood, reaching for his jacket as he turned to the boy. “I would love to stay and chat longer, but I’m afraid I have to run.” He slid his jacket on and produced a pen out of nowhere, holding his hand out until Will gave him his own.

He took a step closer, close enough that Will could smell his cologne. Slowly, he wrote a number across the back of his hand, and leaned down to his ear. “Call me and I’ll take you out to dinner. I still have many questions about you, Will.” His lips skimmed across the shell of his ear, voice pitched low and sweet in a way that had something low in his stomach curling tightly. Heat burned across his body for a few seconds, only to be left gasping and cold when Hannibal turned away and left him at the table.

He stared down at the number on the back of his hand, wondering where he was going to get a phone.

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He ended up finding a phone booth a few days later, typing in the number he had transferred into his journal immediately. They talked for a few minutes, before the phone prompted him to insert another coin that he didn’t have. Hannibal came and picked him up in a smooth sleek car a few minutes later. They went out to dinner that night and started the tiring process of getting to know each other. Wringing out jobs and hobbies and enduring the small talk until they got onto more interesting things. Even though they were in an extremely expensive restaurant that Will had absolutely no hope to pay for, when he was dressed in a tee shirt and jeans, still the thing that set him the most on edge was Hannibal’s gaze. Either it was molten and intoxicating, pumped full of lust and interest, the gaze that made Will want to melt and do whatever the man said. Or it was hard and sharp, crystalized with predatorial intent that set Will’s teeth on edge, never able to get comfortable under that gaze, wary of every remark coming out of his mouth.

But he never said no to any of the following date offers. On the third date, Hannibal picked him up and handed him a smart phone, paid in full by him with an unlimited plan. He tried to refuse it, but that molten gaze was on him again, sweet and burning like honey until he nodded and slid it into his pocket.

It was only on their fifth date that Hannibal helped him into the car, got in on the driver’s side and spoke the words Will had been dying to hear. “Would you like to go back to your house? Or spend the night at mine?” Honey dripped off his tongue and from his eyes, sweet and burning the back of Will’s throat, viscous and addicting as he hummed softly.

“I’d love to spend the night.”

His head swam from the different types of expensive alcohol Hannibal had insisted upon pouring him all night. Breaths hitching and nearly bleeding into moans as he was pressed back against the door to Hannibal’s apartment. His wide palms were low and possessive on Will’s hips, lips pressed to his neck as the smaller boy’s hands fluttered uncertainly. They decided to rest on Hannibal’s shoulders while his hands shifted from his hips to the small of his back, pressing him into an obscene arch. His fingers curled tight in the expensive jacket, breath hitching around something that sounded suspiciously like a moan as Hannibal smiled into his neck. His thumb found Will’s chin, tilting his head down until he could press their lips together. His arms curled around the back of Hannibal’s neck as they kissed, pulling the man closer as he groped the younger boy. A hand slid down his thin waist and over his ass, squeezing his thigh and coming to a stop behind his knee. He pulled his leg up and slammed him back against the door, forcing his hips between Will’s thighs as he gasped into his mouth.

The tip of his tongue pressed between his plush lips, letting them slide together for a second before pulling back. A string of saliva connected their lips before snapping, the moment so erotic Will had to close his eyes and take a breath before he could look up at Hannibal. His eyes seemed to be burning out of his skull, glowing with a lust so intense he might have mistaken it for anger if he couldn’t feel him hard through his slacks. Pieces of his slicked back hair now fell across his forehead, lips parted and slick with spit. Will’s thumb traced the sharp ridge of his jaw, palm splayed across his throat as he stared at him, held still by the fiery gaze, afraid to move and break the spell.

Hannibal moved for him, slow and fluid and intimate as he leaned forward, wiping his slick lips over the skin just under Will’s jaw. Shudders wracked through the small boy as he finally pressed his hips up against the steadfast man. He allowed the whimpers and moans to tumble past his lips as teeth nipped and tugged at the sensitive skin behind his ear. Will’s hand was jerky and uncoordinated as he slid it into Hannibal’s hair, ragged breaths leaving his mouth as he forced himself to speak. “Please.” He pulled lightly at the ends of his hair, voice cracking and soft as he arched against him again. “Please, take me to bed.”

He pressed another open-mouthed kiss against Will’s throat. “All you had to do was ask, il mio cucciolo.” He squealed as Hannibal hefted him into his arms and carried him up to his room.

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Several months passed. Will’s things slowly took over Hannibal’s space, but he still had his own apartment to get away to if he had a paper due or just needed some time alone. They still went out on amazing dates and had amazing sex that made Will feel more content than he had in his entire life. He was still a little fuzzy on what Hannibal did for a living, to afford the lavish life style on top of constantly pampering Will. But he couldn’t really find it in himself to mind when he was woken up every morning with soft kisses and breakfast in bed. Eventually one morning, while he was sipping coffee and flicking through his phone, Hannibal brought up the elephant in the room. “Would you like to move in? Or would you like to keep your own place and sleep here a few nights a week?” Will found it unfair that he asked this question from the other side of the room, naked, with his hair in his face untouched by his gel and careful comb.

“It’s kind of hard to say no when you look like that.” He flushed as Hannibal laughed at him and shook his head, climbing back into bed.

“I never thought you would mind when I was naked.” He murmured, pressing his lips against Will’s exposed hip as he laid down next to him.

“Trust me, I don’t.” He took another sip and laid back against the pillows, chest rumbling as Hannibal started to kiss his lower stomach. “It’s a bit hard to think logically when you’re seducing me though.” He was granted another warm laugh against his skin as a smooth hand moved to cup his rib cage.

“Just think about it, you don’t have to decide now.” He pressed one last kiss to the middle of Will’s chest, before leaning up to slide their lips together. He hummed contentedly and cupped the side of Hannibal’s face, letting the kiss deepen slightly before pulling away.

“I have a morning class, I’m sorry.” Hannibal grumbled his annoyance into Will’s mouth and kissed him a little longer, before finally letting the boy get up and out of bed. He dressed slowly, pulling on a loose pair of sweat pants and tennis shoes, yanking on a tee shirt and a dirty cardigan that might have been Hannibal’s before he accosted it. He dug around the room for all his papers and pens, cursing as he finally shoved everything into his bag.

“I have an exhibition tonight; would you like to come with me?” Will turned back to the man splayed out on the bed, a sheet pulled across his hips where he was clearly jerking himself off. “You will have to wear a suit I’m afraid.” His voice was shaking slightly, nails raking over his chest as Will stared at him.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He continued to stare as Hannibal smirked at him.

“You have class Will.” He reminded, punctuated by a mostly exaggerated groan as he rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock. The younger boy groaned in response before starting toward the door.

“You’re mean.”

“I’ll see you tonight!” Hannibal called after him with another drawn out moan. Will cursed under his breath and locked the house behind him.

The suit was uncomfortable. It was tailored well, and fit his form well, but it was tight around his throat and forced his arms into a strange unnatural position. He was pouting the moment Hannibal helped him out of the car and into the empty museum. They had arrived early to make sure that everything was in place, and he was unhappy with the fabric tight around the crotch and the cramped pockets that didn’t allow him to hide his fidgeting fingers. Hannibal was swept away as soon as they entered the building, leaving him to stand to the side and try to keep busy.

By the time Hannibal returned to him he was completely miserable, tired from the morning classes and cleaning he had to take care of once he got home. But his hands were soothing and sweet on his back as he led him up the stairs. It wasn’t private necessarily, but at least slightly secluded as Hannibal pressed him back against the wall as smoothed his hands through his hair. “Are you okay? I can take you home if you need.” Will sighed and let his eyes flutter shut as Hannibal pressed against him, making him feel safe and warm even in the stuffy suit and in the strange pretentious place he didn’t know how to stand in.

“I’m okay, just tired and a little uncomfortable.” He cupped Hannibal’s worried face, pressing their lips together softly as he hugged him tightly.

“Mi dispiace mia cara.” (I’m sorry my dear). Will stiffened slightly against him, only barely understanding the Italian as it was whispered into his throat. “Avrei dovuto scegliere una mostra quando non avresti mai stato così stanco.” (I should have chosen an exhibition where you wouldn’t hhave been so tired). Now he was completley lost, breath hitching and pressing closer to Hannibal even without understanding the words. Lust flared low in his stomach immediately, bright and hot.

“I really like when you speak Italian to me.” Hannibal leaned back, giving Will the space to wrap his arms around his neck.

“Oh really?” He smirked, pressing him firmer agianst the wall by his hold on the curve of his waist, his other hand slipping down to cup him through his slacks. “Ti piace quando tocco il tuo cazzo e parlo italiano a te?” (You like when I touch your cock and speak Italian to you?) His hands quickly turned to claws in the back of Hannibal’s jacket, mouth pressed against the side of his neck as he muffled high whines and stuttering moans. It was humiliating how quick lust scorched through him, already rock hard in his pants as he was palmed lazily.

Hannibal’s lips skimmed the shell of his ear, voice low and rough as he whispered to him. His body arched and writhed as the words wrapped around him, hot brands of pleasure searing through his skin. His muscles pulled tight as his orgasm mounted faster than he thought possible. “Voglio aprire la mia lingua più tardi.” (I want to open you on my tongue later). The rough spoken syllabic language made goosebumps crawl across his skin as Hannibal’s lips traced down his neck. “Dopo aver lasciato questa mostra, voglio trascorrere il mio tempo per rovinarti sulla mia lingua.” (After leaving this exhibition, I want to spend my time tasting you on my tongue). He flattened his palm across his bulge, stilling and smiling at the petulant whine. “Grind up against my hand.” He sunk his teeth into the back of his hand to restrain his near wail at the effortless switch of languages. His hips gyrated against his hand, biting away whimpers and moans as Hannibal hummed in praise. “Such a good boy, staying so quiet so I can have my way with you.” He broke the skin on the back of his hand, a deep ache radiating through him, hips jerking as his cock pulsed.

“Sempre gusto così buono per me piccola, come un pezzo di caramelle, solo per me.” (Always taste so good, like a piece of candy, just for me). His teeth nipped at his throat, tongue flicking out over the aching skin and making his eyes flutter. Hannibal grabbed under his knee, spreading his thighs open enough to slot their hips together, Will’s breath knocked out of him at the drag of their clothed cocks. “Stai per entrare nei tuoi pantaloni per me la mia stella? (Are you going to come in your pants for me my star?) He shoved their hips together firmly, leaning away from the boy and pulling his head from his shoulder. Will’s face was cheery red, eyes glassy and lips parted as he attempted to grind against Hannibal, unable to with his leverage compromised. “I want you to come for me il mio topolino (my little mouse).” He grinded against the boy, pulling them closer by his hand under his knee. “Come in your pants for me Will.” He whispered against his mouth, lowering his hips into a long dirty grind while nipping at his bottom lip. The smaller boy shook and pressed up against him, orgasm rocking through him, lips sliding together messily as Hannibal swallowed his whines and moans.

“Look so pretty for me la mia stella.” He eased off with his hips, just pressing their chests together as he kissed over his jaw and throat. Will’s breaths were uneven, eyes fluttering as the tension flowed from his body. He let his leg down, hands skimming down his sides as he arched into the soft touch, little murmurs leaving his parted lips. “Hush my dear.” He pressed his cool knuckles into the heated skin of Will’s face, a contented smile playing across his lips as his eyes fluttered open.

They stayed silent as Hannibal fussed around, shifting their suits, and combing their hair until they looked somewhat presentable. The flush across his cheeks and his glassy eyes were a lost cause, but he linked their fingers together and led him back to the main room. The chairs were slowly filling as Hannibal led him to his seat and leaned down into his ear. “Be a good boy, and I’ll make you come again on my cock later.” He pressed a soft kiss to Will’s cheek, enjoying his soft squeak before he walked to the front of the room to begin his presentation.

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Usually, mornings were nice to Will. He always awoke wrapped in Hannibal’s arms, or splayed over top of him, sweet Italian sunshine throwing shadows through their blinds, warm and happy to kiss the older man awake. Today, the heat was burning. His head was thick and garbled as he was shoved awake, hands scrabbling at the sheets and chest heaving. Pleasure poured through him, molten rock burning his nerves as his back arched, sticky with sweat against the cool silk sheets. His eyes fluttered open, a soft confused moan leaving his lips as he attempted to sit up.

A wide smooth palm pressed down on his lower stomach, keeping him still as another hand shifted to pull him open. He threw the thin sheet off and revealed Hannibal. He was splayed between his thighs, lips and tongue working at his hole and making more surprised moans fall from his lips. “Ah, good, you’re awake.” Hannibal murmured, pulling back and rubbing his unshaved face against his soft thigh. Will whined high and long in response.

He turned his head and pressed kisses against his thigh, teeth nipping slightly before pulling back again. He sat up onto his knees and pulled Will’s thighs open. “Knees up.” His voice was still rough from sleep, making Will groan as he hooked his hands around his thighs and pulled them up to his chest. “Good boy.” He spoke, rubbing a hand over his ass before leaning in to spread him open with his thumbs. He kissed at his rim, fine hair falling forward to tickle at his thighs while Hannibal pressed his tongue flat against him. Long, firm movements that made him shake slightly, cock aching sweetly and giving him a pretty good idea of how long he had been at it before Will woke up. The stubble scratched against him as he spread him further and placed a sucking kiss on his rim, the tip of his tongue flicking against him before dipping inside slightly.

His hips rolled as his eyes fluttered, head spinning and orgasm building as Hannibal rubbed his thumb over his hole. “I have a favor to ask of you Will.” He moaned eloquently in response, dropping one of his thighs to grab Hannibal’s hair and trying to get his lips on him again. He laughed at him and went easily, tongue pressing back against him and dragging a moan from his chest. “Will you come to a dinner party with me tonight?” He spoke, before licking his thumb and using it to spread the boy a bit wider, pressing his tongue in farther and making him wail and grind his hips against his face. His lower stomach was slick with pre-come, cock pulsing as Hannibal pulled away, leaning over top of the boy to kiss him sweetly. “Did you hear me baby?” He pressed his thumb against his cheekbone. “I want you to come to a party tonight, and the reason it’s a favor is because you’ll have to wear the fancy suit I gave you.”

Even completely fucked out and begging for release, Will mustered some disgust. “I’d rather wear a dress.” Hannibal quirked an eyebrow but didn’t exactly crack up at the joke. He pouted. “I don’t want to wear the suit, its uncomforta-“ His eyes bugged out of his head as Hannibal sucked two fingers into his mouth, keeping eye contact as he hollowed his cheeks and licked around them. “It’s uncomfortable.” He finished, watching the string of saliva that clung to the man’s fingers as he drew them out of his mouth and pressed them between Will’s legs.

“What if I make you come so hard you cry?” A smirk played across his lips as he rubbed the pads of his fingers around his hole. “And fuck you after the party?”

Will panted softly, eyes rolling into the back of his head as the first finger pressed inside of him. “Okay, okay, yes fine I’ll wear the dumb suit.” Hannibal chuckled and pressed another kiss to his lips.

“You’re very easy to manipulate.” Will punched him in the shoulder weakly.

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The young boy moved in shortly after. Quickly, his things took over the spacious apartment. Textbooks, coveted pens, novels, his casual comfortable clothes sneaking into Hannibal’s wardrobe. Papers were scattered everywhere, and he generally created a mess wherever he sat to study. Even so, he always knew where everything was, seemingly able to hand Hannibal whatever he was looking for even when the man hadn’t asked. They fell into an easy rhythm of cooking, cleaning, sleeping, studying and working together in silence, or switching off playing music from Will’s phone or the record player. On special evenings Will was treated to the piano or harpsicord while he finished his papers. Hannibal pushed him to take more art and writing classes, they debated over his major, months passed under his nose without him noticing. The panic that he originally felt at large parties or exhibitions slowly ebbed away to a sick feeling in his stomach that would need to be kissed away by Hannibal once they got home. He still hated suits, but decided it was worth it to see how happy his partner was when Will could come along to the parties.

He was lying in bed scrolling through his phone when Hannibal came home a bit later than normal. He shouted a greeting and didn’t look away from his phone as he saved a cute dog video and planned to use it against Hannibal the next time he begged for one. “Hi love.” Hannibal spoke as he entered the bedroom, carrying a large box with a smile on his face. Will discarded his phone and sat up, watching with a quirked eyebrow as he set the box down on the foot of the bed. “It’s for you.” He furrowed his eyebrows but knee walked over to the inconspicuous black box and pulled the top off.
He peeled back the white tissue paper and revealed the dark sparkling fabric. He stared at the high halter top for a few seconds uncomprehendingly before his mouth dropped open and he looked back to his partner. “I know you were mostly joking.” He shrugged and dropped his brief case, reaching into the box to unfold the dress. “But I thought it would look nice on you.” It was short, glittery and a deep navy blue. He was completely speechless, eyes turning down to the box to see another dress, a tight red satin with small cap sleeves.

“Wow.” He managed as Hannibal folded the dress and placed it back in the box. “I don’t know what to say.” He laughed softly as he took the box and stowed it in their wardrobe.

“No need to say anything, try them on and see if you like them instead of the suits.” His eyes widened again slightly, treating him to another warm laugh, before Hannibal kissed his cheek. “I have a new recipe for dinner, come, tell me about your day.” He let himself be led out of the room, still a little stunned and wishing he could have stayed and tried them on instead.

He left the dresses alone in the closet for a few more days, even though each time he was alone in the house, he went and admired them. He always chickened out before he actually put them on, stowing the box in the very back of the closet before Hannibal got home. And then he brought the shoes home.

Again, he was lying in bed, listening to Hannibal come down the hallway and into the room. Another inconspicuous black box in his hand shoved Will’s heart into overdrive as he watched him over the top of his phone. “I have more gifts for you mia cara.” He sat up in bed, making grabby hands for the gift before Hannibal placed it in his lap. His hands stuttered on the weak cardboard before he took a deep breath and opened it. The leather was black and shining, the red bottoms giving him a pretty good idea of how expensive they were. He lifted them out of the box and gawked at the wicked thin and long heel, the toe heavy and rounded. His mouth dried as he realized he’d be taller than Hannibal wearing these. “Just if you do decide to wear a dress to the party this weekend.” His grin was remarkably dirtier as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He stepped away from the bed, shedding his jacket and hanging it, before pulling his dress shirt out of his slacks and loosening his tie. “Would you like to join me in the shower?” Will shook himself out of his stupor and nodded, yanking off his shirt as he followed him into the warm spray.

He was admiring himself in the mirror when Hannibal got home a few days later. He smoothed his hands down his waist as he stifled his panic, spinning to look at the back of the dress in the full-length mirror he dragged into the living room. The dress was gorgeous, the high halter clasped around his neck and covered most of his chest. It was loose and soft, ending mid-thigh and still modest. The shimmery fabric was comfortable, even as it rubbed at his neck. The back was low, shoving off the curves of his muscles and the knobs of his spine, ending in draping folds just above his ass. He reached back and pressed his fingers into the soft dimples that were revealed. The shoes were surprisingly comfortable. The thin heel would take some practice to walk on, the creaky leather would need to be broken in, but it would be worth it, from the way it pushed his ass out and made his thighs look heavenly.

“Wow.” He spoke roughly, standing behind Will for a few seconds before reclining against the couch. “Look at you la mia gioia.” He murmured. The name made shivers crawl across his bare skin, turning toward Hannibal, cheeks flushed and face hidden against his shoulder. “You look… sinful.” His voice was rough. “Gorgeous.” His eyes were tired, but legs splayed into an easy seat for Will to take. His hair was mussed, the knot of his tie pulled away from his throat, shirt half askew as he threw his arm around the back of the couch. “Come here little one, let me see you.” He rocked slightly as the heels clicked against the floor. His fingers brushed over the soft fabric to the warm skin of his back once he straddled his lap. Embarrassment crawled over him, fists clenching in Hannibal’s shirt as he closed his eyes. His gaze was a physical presence on his skin as he leaned into his hand, skimming down to rest over the top of his ass. “My beautiful topolino.” He leaned up and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his throat, delighting in Will’s soft noise. His tongue rubbed against his pulse point, his body arching to press into him.

“Can I,” He paused, voice shaking as teeth skimmed across his jugular. “Can I blow you?”

He gave him a soft bite before leaning away, lips pulled into a smirk. “Of course, mio cucciolo.” Will slid to his knees and unbuckled his slacks.

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The seasons had a hard time changing in Florence. It was only when the school year started stuttering to a stop that he realized it had been nearly ten months since he met Hannibal in the run-down coffee shop he frequented. He stared out over the Arno, summer air licking sweetly at his cheeks as his eyes unfocused. Suddenly, he saw every moment of his relationship with the man. He saw the meeting, the first few dates, the easy move. He watched as his things filled the space. He traced his finger over the railing of their small balcony while he saw them tangled in bed together, bodies slick with sweat, spouting gibberish and each other’s names. His eyes fluttered while he thought of the first time he whispered I love you into his mouth. He felt the man’s lips on his own while he whispered the words back in English, then Italian, then another language he had never heard before. Hannibal’s arms closed around his waist as he was jolted into the present, the sun dipping behind the horizon as his partner handed him a glass of red wine.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked, humming as Hannibal hooked his chin over his shoulder, watching the sunset.

“No occasion.” His chest pressed against his back, breath tickling his neck as he took the first sip of the wine. “Simply enjoying the sunset with my lover.” He pressed his lips against the side of Will’s throat while he laughed softly.

“I love you.”

“Ti amo anchio.” Warmth tickled him as they watched the sunset together.

Will stepped inside the flat the next day, just as Hannibal picked up the paring knife and stabbed it through the man’s temple. Hannibal was facing away from him, while he slapped a hand over his mouth and bit down on screams. He stared at the man with the white hair which was slowly being clotted with blood. He was one of Hannibal’s associates, he hadn’t been over for dinner before and Will didn’t know him past a few exhibitions and running in to him at the gallery occasionally. As he stared at him, eyes fluttering, body ramrod straight, with the grip of the knife protruding from his skull, he couldn’t seem to remember his name.

He said something incoherent from behind his hand as he finally turned and stumbled back toward the door. Catching only a glimpse of Hannibal’s slightly panicked face. He stood and followed Will, who had tripped and was just getting to his knees to grab the doorknob when Hannibal reached him. He grabbed the back of his hoodie and pulled him to his feet. Immediately, he was writhing and fighting, wailing for help, tears streaming down his face as he watched every notion of the man he loved dissolve before him. Hannibal crushed him to his chest, hands pinned against the plane of muscle as his arms wrapped around him, holding his face into his collarbone as he hummed softly and tried to calm him down.

He collapsed into the hug. Sobbing and taking big gulps of air, shaking violently as he fisted his hands in the front of Hannibal’s shirt. Disgust overwhelmed the panic, stepped over the fear as he melted into the man. His teeth split his bottom lip as he felt himself calming under his soft words, some in Italian and some in English. He tasted blood as he let himself be held, let his hair be stroked, let him massage his scalp, until the tears stopped and the nausea took over.

He forced himself away from Hannibal, revulsion drenching him as he scrubbed his tears away and stared at the man. His facial features were relaxed, but cold citrine crystals regarded him when he looked into his eyes. A challenge. His chest ached as he turned his gaze to the floor and caught his breath. “You know you can’t leave Will.” He could have. If he wanted to live on the streets and abandon the man he had been enthralled with for nearly a year. Bile rose so quick in his throat he nearly retched. “And I’m not going to hurt you, I never wanted to hurt you.” He looked up to him again, scrutinizing him as he continued to speak. “I didn’t want you to know about this.” He was going to stay more, his lips parting and eyes rolling away from him, before he took a deep breath and let his jaw snap shut. Will was going to be sick. Didn’t want you to know about this yet. Wanted to wait for you to admit why you had started skipping your forensics classes, why you wake up in a cold sweat with a woman’s name on your lips.

He ignored the voice in his head, silenced it with a harsh laugh. “You treat murdering your colleagues like a hobby.” He made no move to deny it. Will’s bag dropped to the floor as he rubbed his hands over his eyes. “And you eat them, don’t you? Feed them to me as well?” He knew that he looked like a child as he removed his hands from his eyes. A deep disgust pinching his face, but eyes still soft with naivety and a child’s misplaced hope. He stared into those foreign eyes, praying that all logic was wrong. But they stayed cold and sharp, and the silence was a clear answer. “Why do you do it?” His fingers itched, cold sweat slicking his body as he felt his nightmare laying over reality.

He watched wide shoulders rise and fall with elegant negligence. “Why do we kill cows or pigs?” Will shot forward without thinking, pounding his fists against Hannibal’s chest, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks as his wrists were caught in one large hand, walked back, and pinned against the door.

“Don’t fucking do that!” He screamed, voice choked as he continued to fight, foot striking Hannibal’s knee before he was completely pinned. “Don’t give me some bullshit non-answer about the meaning of death.” He fell limp again, chest heaving. He coughed and sniffed, throat sore as he spoke. “The man I love is a fucking cannibal and is still treating this like some kind of game.” He sunk his teeth back into the bloody gash of his lip. Sobs covered the whispering evil voice of the back of his head, but nothing could stop the disembodied hands from reaching inside his chest and ripping something beyond repair.

Hannibal let go of his wrists, arms wrapping him into a limp hug. Will ducked his face into his shoulder as he was sickly reminded of the first time they had sex. Pinned against the door, before he was carried back to the bedroom, when the man before him now had been mysterious and caring, the best thing he had since the nightmares had started and he escaped to Florence. He begged for strength as Hannibal spoke. “I’m sorry.” He pulled away, Will watched those eyes melt into true remorse and panic. He felt his resolve crack. “It was never supposed to,” be like this. His words matched those of the thing in his head and as he stared into those soft eyes, hers loomed instead. Hidden behind the green and blue, he almost missed the flash of a predatory glare before he delivered the killing blow. “I love you Will.”

Tears clotted in his lashes. He sighed. His resolve shattered. Hannibal picked up his bag and took him to the bedroom.

Chapter Text

He wished that Hannibal had become a different man. He wished that when he looked at him, only those dark, cold eyes would stare back. He wished that he could have been able to leave, that he would have been pushed to the brink by abuse or by being fed human meat. But Hannibal did not change. He held Will each night as they fell him asleep, awoke him with kisses in the morning. He was sweet and kind, he didn’t attempt to talk about the night everything had crumbled. He brought Will breakfast when he didn’t have morning classes, and quietly stopped serving him meat without the younger boy having to ask. When Will came awake in the middle of the night with increasing frequency, until he kept himself awake, afraid to feel the release of his dreams and the sickness that followed, Hannibal was there. Cooing soft words in a language that was foreign, singing him nursery rhymes and tucking him into his chest until Will stopped crying and shaking. Even if he kept himself up until morning, Hannibal held him, kept him wrapped in the safety of their bed, kept him from pacing and tearing at his own flesh or smashing his hands into walls to get some of the relief that his dreams used to offer him.

He wished that the evil voice would be silent. But instead, it kept him up at night, hacking away at Hannibal’s kindness until it felt like a ruse. The evil voice made him squirm in the man’s arms, made him feel dirty and disgusting when Hannibal kissed him. The evil voice convinced him he was even worse than the murderer he lied with, for he did not leave. He could not escape Hannibal, those sweet lips and soft eyes always luring him back to their apartment, dragging himself back into the man’s grasp.

The evil voice ripped him through dreams, watching omnipresent as he chased his pleasure. Body looming over hers or acting out the motions he watched Hannibal take with his coworker. He watched himself commit his one terrible crime hundreds of times over, he watched himself commit Hannibal’s crimes as well. He was pulled awake by that quiet, faux sweet voice, her scream of terror ringing in his ears as he gripped the sheets and gasped for air. Revulsion dug into his skin as soon as he awoke, deep enough to make him retch into the toilet. It was never the nightmare that made him sick. As he pressed his cheek against the cool porcelain, clammy sweat drying across his body, nausea rolled in his gut from the pleasure he felt in those dreams. His smile at her blood on his hands, the satisfaction as her skin split under the knife. The deeply buried urges finally seeing the light, taking over until that same doubtful, crude voice yanked him into consciousness, whispered hatred in his ear until he vomited up all that was left in his stomach.

He always feared entering their room again, the voice made it so. Each time he crawled back into bed, into Hannibal’s waiting arms, the dark rooted urges starting to scratch at his skin again, he was so repulsed some nights he thought he would vomit on the man. For each night, the worst part were his lips under his ear, voice stroking his skin. “Did you see her again?” In a moment of weakness, he had alluded to the woman that ruined his life. When the moonlight was streaming in through the window and making both men high on the anonymity of the dark. When he was shaking so bad it felt like his bones were vibrating under his skin. He always nodded. Hannibal always hummed and offered no consolation. They always laid in bed, entangled within each other, waiting for when the dreams wouldn’t offer enough relief. When the urges would scratch too hard and finally break through the dam.

Hannibal orchestrated his breaking point, just as Will always knew he would. He stepped into their apartment and spotted the man bound and gagged at their dinner table. And still, the urges roiled within him, warring desperately as he balled his hands at his sides. Hannibal stepped around the corner, extending a glass of wine to Will, a suit of plastic covering his formal garb. Without looking at him he accepted the glass and knocked the wine back in a few long gulps. The alcohol buzzed at the back of his mind pleasantly, muting the battle of disgust and yearning that raged in his chest. His lips curled. What a revolting pair they made, staring down an innocent man with little more than detached interest.

The disgust in his chest creaked, the weight of pleasure and need pressing and pressing until it finally shattered.

His bookbag dropped to the floor. His muscles relaxed.

“You may join me, or wait in the bedroom until I am finished.” Gentle, coaxing. One long manipulation to get Will where he wanted. He turned to Hannibal, staring into his face and found it slightly curious, eyes warm and easy. He took a step closer and wrapped himself around the man. A home, even in plastic and preparing to take an undeserving man apart. He let his eyes fall shut as he tilted his head up for Hannibal’s waiting mouth, knowing if he searched he would find the predatory coldness he feared. They kissed softly, Hannibal cupping the back of his head and humming into his mouth before pulling away.

He leaned on the man as he took a few deep breaths. “Knives?”

“Yes.” He pushed Will away far enough to give him the choice between a small switch blade or a long, glinting kitchen knife. His fingers traced over both before his palm curled around the switch blade, short and wicked, well balanced and precise. Hannibal stepped forward and pulled the man away from the table before gesturing to Will.

The blade snapped open in his head, extending the three-inch blade. They ended up switching off taking shots at the man. Cutting away his clothes before starting to carve into his skin. It was natural. Too natural. Leaving the places, the other wanted bare, digging and cutting, scratching and teasing, never stepping on each other’s toes. Moving effortlessly around the man and around each other as they systematically mutilated him. It was intoxicating, dizzying to watch Hannibal’s predatory gaze fix upon the man. It was gut wrenching and breath taking when blood splashed across his face, painting his lips and cheeks while he looked up at Will with a smile. His mouth watered, blood feeling hot and sluggish in his veins as he felt Hannibal’s eyes on him. Carving away strips of skin, cutting into cheeks, sliding the short blade between joints. A high that banished the last traces of disgust, a high that pursued him through the night. A high that pushed him to do it again and again, to watch someone come apart under him as he played God.

A high that pushed him into Hannibal’s waiting arms, lips pressing together, blood slick on their tongues as they cradled each other. “See?” He murmured into Will’s mouth, directing his sight to the man lying dead in their dining room. “Feel it?” He turned and leaned against the dining table, breaths shallow and fluttery. Eyes falling shut as Hannibal came up behind him, caging him against the table as he kissed the back of his neck. “This is all I ever wanted for you Will.”

He slid his hand into Hannibal’s hair, gasping as he shifted and kissed at his throat. “It’s beautiful.” He didn’t know who’s voice he was speaking in. That of the urges, that of Hannibal, or if the choked breathy tones were truly his own. “More beautiful than I could have imagined.” The evil voice was silent. He finally heard her screams as a gorgeous melody.

Chapter Text

The man Hannibal invited to dinner was very attractive. Young and witty, with dark hair and a scruffy appearance that had Will quirking an eyebrow at his partner. He avoided Will’s confused stare as he shook his hand and introduced him as Anthony. Will hoped for a few seconds that Hannibal wouldn’t kill the attractive man, before he was shaking his hand. “Hello, Will, it’s lovely to finally meet you.” His accent was posh, similar to the one Hannibal took on when he spoke Italian. His heart stuttered in his chest.

“And you as well, you work with my partner yes?” Their hands separated, but his eyes still stayed pinned on Will’s body, running up and down slowly, pausing at his lips before meeting his gaze. His cheeks heated slightly as he smoothed his hands over the statin of the tight dress, suddenly happy that he had let Hannibal talk him into it.

“We are more… associates than anything.” He settled on as Will guided him to the table and helped him into his seat, wicked heels clicking against the hard wood. “I have attended some of his presentations and forced him into pretentious conversations at a few cocktail parties.” Will laughed warmly, taking his seat as Hannibal poured them both wine.

“He must have liked them more than he let on, for you are now sharing the table with us.” He took a small sip and let his eyes slide to Hannibal. He seemed content to let the two men converse, tossing glances over his shoulder occasionally while he shucked oysters and prepared other foods hidden in front of him. “I must say, I was excited to hear you would be joining us tonight. After hearing so much about you through my partner, it’s a treat to be able to talk to you myself.” Anthony smirked at him over the rim of his wine glass and he was struck by how alike he looked to Hannibal for a split second.

“I must say the same for you Will, I do find you extremely intriguing.” He allowed himself to flush again, feeling eyes trace the curve of his waist and hip hugged by the dress.

Hannibal turned to them, holding plates piled with oysters and meat, along with other foods Will made no attempt to identify. There was a pause as Hannibal got situated before they began to eat. He gave Hannibal a soft smile when he realized there was no meat on his plate. He closed his fingers around an oyster shell and couldn’t help his hot flush as he stared down at the aphrodisiac. He bit down on his lip as he imagined sucking it out of the half shell as the two men watched, before he picked up his fork and dug it into the meat.

He chewed slowly as he set the shell back on his plate, eyes flicking to Anthony when he realized the man was staring at him. “Are you avoiding meats?” He spoke, making Will jolt slightly before he grabbed another oyster. Hannibal looked at him from across the table, knife and fork poised over the meat he had served. Will wondered which professor it belonged to.

“I’m trying not to eat anything with a central nervous system.” He settled on finally as he lifted another oyster to his lips. Anthony laughed softly, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“Oysters, acorns and marsala.” He nodded to the plate in front of Will while the boy wrapped his lips around his fork, letting it rest there while he chewed. “That’s what ancient Romans would feed animals to improve their flavor.” He quirked an eyebrow before shrugging and taking another sip of wine. Will froze for a second, chewing slowly as he pulled the fork from between his lips and stared at the amused smirk on Hannibal’s face.
The oyster shell clattered back to the plate a little louder than he intended, while he swallowed the panic and terror that started welling in his throat. Hannibal offered no help, continuing to chew while looking between the two of them. This boy was attractive, he didn’t want to kill him. He didn’t want Hannibal to kill him. At least not before he got to take a shot at him. He took a deep breath and closed his shaking fingers around his wine glass.

“My partner,” His voice was trembling as he looked to Anthony. “Has a very sophisticated palate.” It seemed his face was always contorted into that self-satisfied smirk. He wanted to smack it off his face. “He is very particular about how I taste.” He let his own lips curl into a half smile, sealing away the panic that he had initially felt. Apparently, he didn’t need to smack the man to get him to stop smirking, his lips parted in shock as he turned to Hannibal. Both of their surprised faces quickly curled into smiles as Anthony looked back and forth between them.

His eyes were on Will as he spoke. “Is it that kind of party?” He took a sip of wine as he looked to Hannibal, waiting for permission. He read the slight sag of his shoulders, the vague quirk of his brow, it was apparent to the young man that Hannibal had not brought the man here with any intent to kill him. The tension in the room grew thick as he turned his eyes to Will, watching the possessive glint he knew well strike him, before he spoke.

“Yes, you could say that.” Glances were exchanged before Will folded his napkin delicately and placed it on top of his half-finished meal.

He turned to Anthony as he stood. “May I?” He murmured, gesturing to the man’s lap. He shoved away from the table, throwing his napkin hazardously. Will’s heels clicked deafeningly in the silence as he climbed into his lap. He straddled his hips, tight dress riding up his thighs as he cupped his face and leaned in for a kiss. It was strange to lead after months of being kissed by a man who treated him like property, or a prize. The man beneath him was lazy, cupping his ass and thighs with gentle hands, soft movements with no intention to claim or humiliate. Will slowly licked into his mouth, their lips sliding together easily as he let himself melt into the man’s chest. He pulled away, rolling his eyes toward Hannibal while Anthony pressed wet kisses against his throat.

He had pushed himself away from the table as well, dinner abandoned as he watched. His legs were spread wide, hand splayed on the inside of his thigh as he propped his head up on his fist. A fire rooted deep in his eyes, muscles tense and jaw clenched as he watched. Will started to pull away and the man let him go easily, fingers tracing over his skin until he was out of reach.

He felt the dress ride even farther up his ass as he attempted to spread his legs around the wide splay of the Hannibal’s thighs. Hannibal grabbed his ass, sliding under the deep red fabric and revealing the lace that he had been coaxed into as well. He whined as he was tugged into a kiss, teeth nipping and clacking as Hannibal grabbed his jaw and held him still. His tongue licked between the seam of his lips until his mouth parted, whimpering into Hannibal’s mouth as he fisted his hands in his white dress shirt. His finger nails dug into the back of Will’s head, making him gasp and grind down against him. He pulled away slightly, speaking hushed against Hannibal’s lips. “Are you going to let him fuck me?”

He hummed while he regarded the man over Will’s shoulder. Will grinded against him while he thought, dress slipping up into the small of his back as he started to unbutton Hannibal’s shirt. “Please,” He dragged the word out into a petulant whine as he got his hands on bare skin. “It would be so hot if you watched.” He pressed his face into the side of his neck, breath humiliatingly shallow and shaky. “I don’t care if you kill him after, please, I bet he has such a nice cock, I want it inside me.” He knew he was babbling and making a fool of himself, he could feel the rumble of laughter in Hannibal’s chest but couldn’t make himself care as he lowered himself into a long dirty grind.

Hannibal relented. “Fine.” Will smiled into another long kiss that left him breathless before he slid off his thighs and stepped back to Anthony, kicking the shoes off along the way. “Give me a show mio bel ragazzo.” He took a deep shuddering breath as the words landed like a hot brand on his skin, pressing him to his knees between Anthony’s thighs. While Will worked his pants open, he pulled off his scarf and jacket and tossed them to the ground. Will could practically hear the annoyance boiling in Hannibal’s gut.

He had a nice cock, long and heavy in Will’s hand as he licked his finger to run the pad of it over the head. His mouth watered as Anthony groaned low and deep in his chest, fingers tickling the hair at the nape of Will’s neck as he leaned forward and sucked him inside his mouth. Warm and heavy on his tongue, his eyes rolled as he carefully slid down the shaft, nose pressing into the man’s pubes on the first push. “Jesus fucking Christ.” His watering eyes flicked up to Anthony, who’s head was thrown back and hand clutched at the arm rest of the chair. He arched his back and pushed his ass out for Hannibal’s benefit as he slid off and coughed slightly, hand pumping over his cock as he caught his breath. He pressed down again, a drop of pre-come smearing across his tongue in reward when he let the man fuck his mouth shallowly. His fingers twined through Will’s curls, holding him securely as he carefully jolted in and out of his mouth with little coordination. His eyes stayed locked onto Anthony’s flushed face as he felt the muscles in his lower stomach flex sporadically.

“That’s enough.” Anthony’s hips jittered against his nose once more before obeying and pulling out of his waiting mouth. Will turned to Hannibal, feeling his cock strain against the tight lace as he saw the raw anger and possession boiling in his eyes. “Let me see you finger yourself sweetheart.” His throat was raw, lips puffy and red as he nodded and crawled toward his partner to grab the bottle of lube waiting in his hand. Hannibal’s fingers hung in front of his face as he stared down at him with an unreadable mix of lust and rage. He leaned forward slowly, wrapping his lips around the tip of his first finger before his eyes flicked up to Hannibal. His face softened immeidately, a smile playing on his lips as he let Will suck his finger into his mouth. He pressed a messy kiss to his knuckles as Hannibal’s palm stroked over his hair. “Such a good boy, always so eager to please.” He nuzzled into his hand before Hannibal nudged him back toward Anthony. “Go on now, up onto his lap.”

He pressed a kiss into his palm before following his request and clambering into Anthony’s lap. He faced Anthony and let the man pull him into a kiss, still soft and sweet, making him smile softly before he turned away. Anthony let him lean back against his chest, kissing his neck and holding his hips tightly while he pulled off the frilly underwear and spread his legs. He didn’t bother with taking off the dress, just pulled it up onto his lower stomach and quickly coated his fingers in lube, making sure Hannibal was able to see before he pressed two inside himself. “Will no, go slow.” He whined petulantly but shifted to just press one inside. It didn’t stop him from rudely opening himself up as fast as possible while still avoiding Hannibal’s disapproving noises. Anthony kissed at his throat through it all, nipping at his skin softly but making sure to leave no marks.

Once he was ready (too impatient to really stretch himself) he quickly coated Anthony’s cock with lube and shifted forward to grip his knees. Anthony helped him position himself and sit himself down on his dick. The burn made tears well in his eyes, but he pressed down slow and steady, nails digging into the man’s knees through his slacks and soft pants leaving his lips. “I told you to go slow.” Hannibal murmured, Will’s eyes shooting to him in a glare. The annoyance quickly died on his face, contorting into pleasure as his ass pressed against Anthony’s thin hips and he took in the state of his partner.

Hannibal had stripped from his shirt completely, one hand resting low on his stomach and the other clasped around a glass of wine. He sipped at it slowly, and Will would have thought he was uninterested if it wasn’t for the obscene bulge in his pants and the fire behind his eyes. He whined softly and dropped his head, grinding down on the cock inside of him, making his lower stomach burn pleasantly and his head spin.

When he couldn’t keep still any longer he started bouncing on his dick, fucking himself on an inch or two of his shaft, just savoring the burn and letting the pleasure collect in his pelvis. “Head up. Look at me.” He whimpered and rolled his face against his shoulder, taking a deep breath before obeying and flicking his eyes up to Hannibal. Another pathetic sound dropped from his lips as he watched the man’s large hand shift and start squeezing over his cock, still trapped in his pants. He leaned back to wrap his arm around Anthony’s neck, taking him even deeper and rolling his hips until the head of his dick bumped against his prostate and made him arch. Pre-come smeared over his lower stomach as he clenched, making Anthony swear against his neck and fuck into his prostate again. “I didn’t say you could look away mia cara.” He could feel Hannibal’s smirk as he let out another petulant whine and turned his eyes to him again.

His legs spread farther, allowing the boy to see the ridge of his cock in his slacks, making his mouth water. Hannibal squeezed himself through his pants, rubbing over the head of his cock and tilting his head at Will with the corner of his lips quirked. Will suddenly lost interest with Anthony, wanting only to be on his knees in front of Hannibal, to taste him and to let him fuck his throat. He whimpered, leaning forward again to get better leverage and starting to bounce on Anthony’s cock again. He clenched around him each time he was seated fully, rubbing his thumb across the head of his own cock and feeling his orgasm barreling toward him embarrassingly fast. Anthony groaned a warning into his neck before his hands tightened on his hips and pulled him down onto his hips. Will swore and pitched forward slightly, trying to curl around himself as he came, painting his lower stomach as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Anthony helped him down to kneel on the floor, the wood cool against his feverish skin as he caught his breath. Without looking at the man behind him he crawled over to Hannibal, wrapping his arms around his calf and pressing his cheek into his thigh. He arched like a cat as a hand pressed through his curls, eyes fluttering as he leaned bonelessly against his partner, unworried about the man’s come dripping down his thigh. “Would you like to do the honors? Or shall I?” What Will really wanted to do was suck Hannibal’s cock, but he kept his promise.

“He’s all yours.” He murmured, loosening his grip on Hannibal’s leg and letting him stand.

“My lovely boy.” Hannibal stood over him and tugged on his hair softly before leaving him and hefting the empty wine bottle into his hand. Will leaned against the chair and dozed in and out of sleep, listening to Anthony’s screams as Hannibal broke the wine bottle over his head and cut him open. Hannibal hefted him into his arms shortly after, finally looking toward Anthony, who was now lying lifelessly, shards of glass stuck in his face and a large piece jammed into his throat. Hannibal’s hands were bloody on his skin as he carried him upstairs and Will groaned without any venom.

“You ruined my favorite dress.” Hannibal laughed as he entered the bathroom and set him down on the floor, running a bath.

“I’ll buy you another one my dear.” He accepted the soft kiss to his forehead. They climbed into the bath together Will leaning back against Hannibal’s chest as he took a deep breath. What a life in Italy they made together.

Chapter Text

The water was steaming. Air growing thick and warm, fogging over their mirror as Hannibal helped him into the claw foot tub. It stung, the scratches ranging up and down his legs starting to throb in time with his lethargic heart as he tried to lean back. Hannibal was settling somewhere behind him as he stretched his legs out. But the open cuts lancing up and down his back screamed when he put any amount of pressure on them, making him jolt forward as he gasped for breath. “Shhh.” Hannibal murmured, stool scratching across the floor as he pressed a hand into Will’s shoulder. “Keep your back straight.” He corrected his posture and gripped onto the sides of the tub. Even with the pain pounding at the back of his skull, slashes across his skin breeding a burning, stinging pain across his nerves, he was peaceful. His pelvis was aching, hip joints feeling over worked and sore, hole burning, cock flushed and pulsing weakly. He let his eyes fall shut as Hannibal’s careful fingers started to work against his tense muscles. The same fingers had stretched him open while he begged and bled less than an hour ago.

His brain was still hazy, content lethargy pulling at his bones as he came back to himself. It had been the quickest drop into subspace he had ever experienced. Split between the wine humming through his veins, and the detached clinical treatment he received from Hannibal as the knife worked over his skin, he was hopeless to it. It was no wonder he was still silent, still recovering. He leaned into his careful fingers as the water started to cloud with blood and whatever else might have been smeared onto his skin. Hannibal worked at his shoulders until they were loose, hands sliding into the burning hot water once he was satisfied. “Head back.” He was careful to keep his speech slow and level, giving Will the time to process his words before he was obeying. Gentle hands cupped water and wetted his hair, fingers pressing to his curls seconds later.

He allowed himself to relax into the massage as Hannibal hummed behind him. “I’m very proud of you Will.” There was no threat of sub drop. No whispering voices or dark thoughts in the back of his head. But Hannibal was diligent. As always. “You are so terribly beautiful.” His voice sounded hoarse, Will’s lips pulling into a smile as he imagined the pinched state of his face. Hands left his hair for a moment, the floral smell of his shampoo blooming for a second before sudsy fingers combed through his locks again. “Thank you.”

He tipped his head back a little farther. “Why are you thanking me?” His words were clear enough. At least for his current state, still coming down from one of the most intense drops and orgasms of his life.

Hannibal hummed, hands dipping back into the water to wash off the bubbles. “For allowing me to do these things to you.” Will didn’t respond. Hannibal washed the shampoo from his hair, water dripping down his back and stinging the cuts again as he gritted his teeth. “You let me hurt you. Sometimes even break you. Then put you back together.” Hands slid down the curves of his neck, wetting his skin as his thumbs dug back into his muscles.

He tilted his head slightly, the exposed skin of his back starting to crawl with goosebumps as the knots were worked out of the base of his neck. “What is it you like to call me?” Hannibal huffed a laugh as he reached for another of their copious bath products. Lavender spread through the steamy bathroom, making him smile softly.

“A teacup.” A kiss was dropped to his cheek as Hannibal moved the stool again, appearing at his side. “Or a porcelain doll.” Another smile quirked at his lips as his fingers closed around his wrist. His other hand started to work the body wash up his arm, fingers pressing into tense muscles until they were forced to relax.

He watched his movements for a while. One arm, then the other. Over his shoulders and down his chest. Once his hands started roaming he smacked them away and took the body wash himself. Hannibal made no move to rush him, acting as if he hadn’t bared himself emotionally as he drained the tub and helped Will to his feet. A large, fluffy towel was wrapped around him, a kiss pressed to his lips before he was left to dry off. When he pulled the towel away from his back, it was spotted with blood. He toweled off his hair and half limped into their bedroom. Hannibal helped him into a pair of boxers before sitting him in their desk chair. Medical supplies were already laid out, another kiss dropped to his damp hair before Hannibal got to work.

“I know that this is what you need.” He said finally, crossing his arms over the back of the chair and resting his head on them. “I know that hurting me, in controlled, consensual doses helps you.” Hannibal did not stutter in his movements, still deftly rinsing, and disinfecting each meticulously placed cut. “I want to help you make peace with what goes on in your head.” The new flares of pain were beginning to send him under. Vision becoming unfocused and fuzzy as the alcohol was applied to each cut. His voice was soft, almost childish. “If that means that I am your teacup, or porcelain doll.” He took a breath through his teeth, eyes screwing shut as Hannibal started to wrap the cuts. “Then, that’s what I will be.”

Quiet draped over them again. Gauze was pressed against each of the slashes to stop the bleeding, tape over top of them to keep them in place. Slowly, the pain in his back started to dull. Replaced by thirst and hunger as he finally came back to himself. Hannibal helped him to his feet, draping a soft cardigan over his shoulders. “You are so much more than that, Will.” Their fingers tangled together, keeping him still as they stared at each other. “You exist as much more than a peace keeper.”

He tilted his head as he tucked himself into Hannibal’s chest, lips skimming over his neck as he wrapped his arms around his middle. “I know.” Hannibal’s lips bumped against his forehead once, before he pulled him down into a chaste kiss. His fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. “A teacup can be beautiful, well made and sturdy. But still look delicate, yes?” Hannibal stared at him. “You can do more things with a teacup than just break and mend it.” His hand shifted to cup Hannibal’s jaw. “I can be broken and mended many times over, and still be able to hold whiskey or tea.” That made a smile transform his face, ducking in for another kiss as he finally allowed himself to be led into the kitchen. “And if you didn’t notice, I came untouched on your cock about twenty-five minutes ago. I have very little problem with being broken.” A warm laugh rang in his ears as he got settled on one of their stools.