In Will's past, one thing he was always good at, excelled at, was eating a woman out. He even preferred that term, consuming pleasure, hearing his name in moans as they came. He loved the taste, the warmth he sipped from.
Rimming was fundamentally the same, but so so different with Hannibal. More so with Will's thick tongue rolling across the tight wrinkled pucker, feeling it twitch and wink eagerly. Hearing Hannibal panting, hands fisted in the sheets as he tried to drown the sound by burying his head in the pillow, only spurred Will on. If he pressed just right, Hannibal would open for him with a throaty groan, and Will would slip the tip of his tongue through the tightness, working it against the strong muscle.
Will was a slobbering mess of course, by now. It was dripping off his chin, in his beard, running down his neck, slow and viscous. All the while Hannibal is clenching around his tongue, arguably weaker as his body no longer fought to keep him out.
Finally, just as his jaw would tire from the wide stretch, Hannibal's body would welcome him in. He was hot inside, silky. Will drooled into the stretched hole, slid his tongue inside, and withdrew it stretched wide. Hannibal keened and groaned into the sheets.
Will liked to pull away when he made that sound, watch his hole flutter helplessly. A soft pink view of his insides, where his cock was meant to go when his tongue took a break. Hannibal arched his back, and moved his backside closer to Will, trembling for more touch.
So when he grabbed his hips, and pressed his face hard between his cheeks, Hannibal moaned loud, face rising from the pillow to give Will his due, to reward him with his need, falling apart under that smart tongue. Will knew Hannibal had always been a fan of his mouth, not simply his words, but the sensation, the idea of his need to taste every part of him. Hannibal understood that above all else, more so once Will shoved his tongue through the muscle again.
He was deeper now, Hannibal's slick insides fluttered around him, as his wide tongue withdrew again. He kissed the winking hole, gentle with his lips, before positioning them fully over the rim and sucking lightly.
That's how Hannibal came, rising on his elbows, head dropped with a groan. His hole rhythmically clenched in time with his orgasm, the pulsing pink insides inviting him again. Will tongue dipped in, gave him what he wanted. Hannibal dropped limp to the bed, sated and groaning as Will started over, trying to draw another orgasm from him.
Will loved these games, he was good at it, and Hannibal let him win. It was one of the few times Will knew Hannibal didn't have an agenda, just pleasure. Will gave and Hannibal received, he would allow himself to let go. The thought of that had Will impossibly hard, but he ignored his own need.
Hannibal was making the softest sounds now, overstimulated and his sack dripping with Wills spit. When he flicked his tongue across it now, Hannibal felt smoother, wrinkles stretching to accommodate his skilled tongue. The muscle was more relaxed, eager when he pressed his tongue back inside.