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He couldn’t tear his eyes away. No matter how much he willed his neck to turn it was like his vertebrae were petrified. Will couldn’t even blink. The strange thing was that he found no horror in the sight. He knew he should. He realized that logically he should be filed with sympathy and empathy and disgust and self-loathing for being a part of this but all he felt was fascination. It was like he was under a spell.
The rich aroma of expertly prepared dishes filled his lungs and he realized he was hungry. He hadn’t taken more than a bite from his steak tartare, having been too distracted by Hannibal and his antics. Will wasn’t a formal dinner sort of guy. They both knew this but they’d long ago made a concession. Will could continue to be the cabin loaner who so rarely ran a comb through his unkempt locks as long as he joined Hannibal for dinner every day, three of which would be formal. Hannibal even went as far as to allow Will to bring one of his rescue dogs into the villa and Will was perfectly aware how much the doctor resented the loss of control. He was letting Will know he loved him in his own way and it was appreciated.
The two of them had gotten close ever since the dive off the cliff’s edge, quite literally. How they’d survived Will would never know. All he remembered was waking up in a comfortable bed, in a house far more glamorous than anything he’d ever seen, with his wounds nearly healed and already beginning to scar. He’d wandered around in a daze, pulling the silky smooth blanket tighter around his shoulders. It was a royal purple and the edges draped behind him like a cloak. Will entered a room which resembled a library and there, right in front of him was a window with a chair under it and a man in that chair reading a book.
‘Ah, Will. It is good to see you back on your feet. Don’t push yourself too hard now, you are still recovering.’ Hannibal looked impeccable, not a hair out of place. His legs were crossed and he was bathing in shadows despite the light shining through the window. Beyond him Will saw a forest of pines and firs, all emerald green.
‘Where are we?’ Hannibal bookmarked the page and placed the book on a nearby coffee table. He stood and for a moment the light made it seem like he had a halo. Will was perfectly calm as he watched the other man walk towards him, their eyes firmly locked together.
‘We’re in Bran, Romania. You were asleep for a long time. I am very glad to see you haven’t sustained any lasting damage, at least not to your body.’
‘What about my brain?’ Hannibal pressed his palm gently against Will’s cheek and the other leaned into it.
‘I found nothing wrong when I examined you but you were unconscious. I would like us to have a session to make sure you haven’t suffered any trauma to your psyche. We can do that later however. You look hungry.’ Will narrowed his eyes slightly.
‘You were cooking. Do I want to know what ingredients you used?’ Hannibal laughed, a conniving sound if ever there was one, and leaned in slightly until their foreheads were inches apart. Will looked up at him, his lips parting with a soft sigh. The grip he had on the blanket, the only thing covering his naked body, loosened and he felt the material slip lower down his shoulders.
‘You already know what ingredients I used. The real question is whether you will still join me for dinner despite that. Will you do me the honour of your company Will?’ The hand moved down the side of his neck and along his shoulder, pushing the purple silk to reveal even more skin. Will felt the hammering of his own heart inside his chest. He swallowed audibly before he nodded weakly.
‘Excellent. I’ll set everything up while you wash up and get dressed. I’m looking forward to our dinner.’ Each word was a breathy whisper dancing across Will’s lips. He closed his eyes and savoured the intimacy for a moment and he was certain he felt a brush against his lips but when he opened his eyes again he was alone.
Five months passed since then and they’d fallen into a sort of routine. The word out there was that they were both dead, killed during a confrontation with the Tooth Fairy so nobody was out looking for them, at least not for now. Hannibal re-established his profession as a psychologist while Will spent hours in his little cabin in the woods, just listening to the sound of the wind run through the leaves. He’d never known Hannibal was a fluent Romanian speaker but then again the man was full of surprises. In less than a month he’d made connections and drawn a web over the city of Bran which made it seem like he’d always been a cornerstone of its foundation.
Will was happy to just stay out of his way. He studied the language while on his own and he was almost fluent. He’d always been a quick study and it was hard not to pick up on the language when everyone was speaking it around him. He still had a strange accent but Hannibal assured him it would go away in time. He’d also resumed his old habit of adopting strays and his cabin already housed seven dogs. Will always loved the company of the loyal canines. He understood them and they understood and accepted him with all his many, many flaws. Hannibal needed the assurance of control so he would never understand what it was like to share a genuine connection with another living being, no strings attached. There was no control in love, just blind trust.
Will doubted that what they had was love, at least not in the conventional meaning of the word. They were co-dependent and they certainly felt attraction towards one another. Will had known that from the first session he’d had with Dr. Lector. The more he’d lost himself in the other man’s design the more this attraction grew into obsession and perhaps even affection. They were connected in a way which was probably even more enduring than love. People fell out of love all the time but Will knew now that he and Hannibal were destined to be together. The time they’d been apart had been the hardest of his life. He’d been an alcoholic without his drink, an addict without his drugs and a patient without his doctor.
Usually they were alone during their dinners. Will couldn’t help finding the display of lavish food and exquisitely crafted centrepieces a bit over the top but he knew how proud Hannibal was of his dinners so he gratefully indulged the man. He also enjoyed it but he enjoyed the nights they spent together far more. When they were pressed against one another, under the cover of darkness, they were truly complete. Will realized he was becoming addicted to Hannibal’s touch, his kisses and the way he made him feel when he brought him to orgasm. He knew he was surrendering far too easily but he was tired of the game of cat and mouse they’d been playing ever since he’d worked for Jack. Well it was game over and the cat caught the mouse.
Tonight Hannibal decided to invite company to their dinner. He hadn’t told William who had been surprised to walk into the magnificently laid out room and find a meal fit for a king and two men already seated. One was Hannibal himself and the other was a gentleman in his mid-thirties who Will recognised as a professor of history. Will had seen him around town a few times and from what he’d learned the man was in town to study the Castle Bram. Will threw Hannibal a weary look before taking his seat. He had a bad feeling he knew exactly why the gentleman was invited over for dinner.
‘So, Mr. Duma how do your studies go? Have you unearthed some gem of knowledge long forgotten by current history?’ Hannibal could be so charming and pleasant if he wanted. Will found himself studying his easy smile and that twinkle of interest in his dark eye.
‘Oh no such thing unfortunately. There has been so much work written on the castle I may be wasting my time but I feel like I have to try anyway.’ Hannibal nodded approvingly as he cut a piece of steak. Will very much doubted it came from a quadruped…
‘You are proving the old adage true then, nothing ventured, nothing gained.’ The professor chuckled and brought a forkful to his mouth. Will watched the movement with masked intrigue. He supposed he saw to some extent why Hannibal found such amusement in watching his unsuspecting guests engage in acts of cannibalism. It was like stripping them of their very humanity and they didn’t even suspect it, all because the horror was covered by an illusion of prestige.
‘My goodness Dr. Lector! This is delicious. When you invited me for dinner I hadn’t realised I’d be in for such a treat.’ Will nearly grimaced but he’d had practice in schooling his features. He took a tentative bite of his own dish. It was indeed delicious, just like everything Hannibal cooked.
‘I’m very glad you like it. The stake tartare is one of my signature dishes.’
‘You should give up being a psychologist and open a restaurant. I’d be happy to be your first client.’ The professor dug in with gusto while still remembering his table manners. Hannibal watched the display with a smile on his face. His sharp canines looked positively wolfish.
‘I have considered it but I much prefer the comfort and intimacy of my own kitchen.’ The true meaning of the words weren’t lost on Will and he glanced up from his plate to find Hannibal looking directly at him.
‘Well that is a great loss. Your partner is very fortunate to eat such delicacies whenever he wants.’ They’d never come out and said that he and Hannibal were a couple but people talked and it wasn’t a secret that they lived under one roof. It wasn’t a surprise that the current theory was that the two of them were together in a romantic way.
‘Yes and Hannibal always uses the finest ingredients.’ Will tilted his head slightly in the professor’s direction, his eyes staying fixedly on Hannibal’s.
‘Indeed. Some would say I spoil you.’ The guest was too preoccupied with his meal to notice Hannibal’s hand close slowly over the handle of a nearby knife. It was wickedly sharp.
‘I like being spoiled.’ The professor looked up, exposing his throat and barely saw a silver glint before his mouth opened in shock. The knife sliced across his artery in a quick swipe leaving an arc of red blood in its wake. The man bled to death before he could even attempt to stand up, cascades of blood soaking his white suit.
‘And I like spoiling you.’ Will finally moved his gaze from Hannibal to the dead man. While in the throes of death the professor’s eyes rolled in their sockets and rested in Will’s direction. He found it strange, staring death in the face like that even if he’d already done it a thousand times before. He briefly wondered what the professor saw in his very final second of life. What was he trying to say with his last breath? He supposed he would never know.
He stood up carefully as if afraid to scare the dead man away, ridiculous since the professor would never move an inch from his seat. He suddenly had an urge to touch the skin and feel as the last of its warmth chilled. He wanted to coat his fingers in the bright scarlet still gurgling in sporadic bursts through the cut. The final beats of a dead heart. He hadn’t heard Hannibal move from the head of the table to stand behind him but he felt his solid presence now.
‘Don’t be shy Will. Here, let me guide you.’
Will drew in a breath as Hannibal’s hand covered his and their fingers intertwined. He relaxed the muscles in his arm and let Hannibal move it like he was the puppet master pulling on a string. He watched his own fingertips get smeared in fresh blood as if from outside his body. Hannibal pressed their overlapped palms against the cut and Will felt the liquid flow of the blood across his skin. It was oddly vital considering the source.
‘What are you thinking?’ Lips moved against his hair and the shell of his ear. It sent shivers down Will’s spine.
‘That I’m hungry.’ He knew Hannibal was smiling even if he didn’t turn to look.
‘For food or for sex?’ The question was punctuated with a kiss along his jugular, exactly where the professor was cut.
‘Do I have to choose? You said you liked spoiling me.’ Hannibal laughed, a low and dangerous sound, as he began undoing the buttons of Will’s white shirt with his free hand.
‘And I’m a man of my word.’
Without any warning Will found the world spinning around him. He was literally slammed across the table, sending plates crashing over the edge. He gasped as the mahogany made hard contact with his back but wasn’t alarmed. Hannibal would do this sometimes. He would indulge in sudden bursts of violence but he would never cross the line. He only did as much because he knew Will enjoyed the manhandling to a certain degree.
While he was dizzy, Hannibal moved his hand down Will’s throat smearing the skin with blood and getting rid of the stained shirt. Will groaned his approval and Hannibal touched the exposed torso and abdomen with reverence. His fingertips ran across every rib in turn as if the man could feel the bone beyond the meat and Will licked his lips. He knew the action caught Hannibal’s attention. He saw its effect in the dilating of the doctor’s pupils.
‘A well-made steak tartare goes splendidly with a red Beoujolais. I procured one just for such an occasion.’
Will watched hungrily as Hannibal reached for a bottle of the wine which fortunately survived Will’s unexpected addition to the dinner arrangements. The cork was yanked out with a pop and Hannibal smiled with one corner of mouth as he poured the expensive drink on Will’s chest. He stared at Hannibal who stared at the river of wine run down the centreline of his body, trails branching away to fall down his ribs. It was cold but not unbearably so.
‘What are you waiting for? Dinner is served.’ Hannibal grinned predatorily and Will couldn’t help the pang of terror reverberating through him. It was probably what a rabbit felt while staring at the open maws of a wolf. It was instinctual but Will was no helpless rabbit.
‘Don’t mind if I do.’ Hannibal began licking the wine, his tongue heating Will’s skin like a furnace. Will arched his back as the other man teased him, knowing full well Will would lose his composure if he kept up the torturous ministrations. Hannibal dipped the tip of his tongue inside Will’s bellybutton and the latter moaned. He was coming undone.
‘Hannibal!... Stop playing…’ The man in question raised an eyebrow. The wine made his lips seem much redder than they were and Will yearned to kiss them.
‘You want me to get serious?’ He was standing above Will and the other reached for him. His fingers left blood on his chin and cheek.
‘Asking questions you already know the answer to is beneath you.’ Hannibal smirked before he captured Will’s mouth in a passionate kiss. There was no teasing in this act. He was all business now and Will was ready to meet the beast masquerading inside the charismatic doctor’s meat suit.
‘Let’s put on a good show for our guest.’ Will turned his head to find that Hannibal had chosen a spot on the table just so the dead eyes of the professor stared straight at them.
‘We wouldn’t want to fail as hosts.’
Hannibal got undressed quickly, letting his tailored suit fall to the floor in a heap. He would iron out the creases later. Will’s eyes ran over the doctor’s muscles and his legs spread open, all but begging for Hannibal to devour him. A powerful hand grasped his ankle and pulled Will towards the edge of the table, right up against the other man. Will gasped as he was left naked, a shiver which was not entirely caused by the sudden drop in temperature running down his spine. Hannibal smirked, some hair strands falling across his eyes. Will loved seeing his perfectly kept mask fade away, especially since he was the only one who saw the devil underneath and still lived to tell the tale.
Will followed the other’s movements with lust darkened eyes. A hot and wet mouth swallowed his cock and Will’s hips automatically jumped only to be pushed back down with a little more force than necessary perhaps. Hannibal was wickedly good at using his tongue, in any way necessary, and Will was a whimpering mess in record time. He kept biting his lip and he knew if he kept it up it would bleed but he also knew Hannibal loved tasting his blood when they kissed. He was so preoccupied with losing himself in the waves of pleasure that he didn’t even notice one of the hands leave his hip. He did however become acutely aware of it when a lubricated finger began prodding at his entrance.
‘You look beautiful like this Will.’ Hannibal worked him open meticulously, accommodating four fingers inside the pliant whole by the time he was done.
‘Hannibal…. You said you’d stop playing…. Please!….’ Hannibal leaned over and pressed his lips to Will’s, taking the time to savour the fresh blood from the self-inflicted wounds.
‘You know I can’t resist when you beg.’ Will’s expression darkened slightly.
‘You are a sadist doctor.’ Hannibal ran a finger from Will’s chin to his chest, mixing some of the blood with the wine, before he licked it. The combination between sweet and salty was divine.
‘And you are a masochist. It’s one of the reasons why we fit so well together.’ Hannibal pressed against Will, nudging the stretched ring of muscles with the head of his cock. He felt Will tremble at the contact. ‘Speaking of fitting well together…’
Will moaned Hannibal’s name when he was filled to the brim and he grasped the edge of the table, twisting his body to face the corpse still staring blindly at him. Will couldn’t take his eyes of the professor’s, even as he felt Hannibal lift his leg to hook it over his shoulder. Noises which would make a sex worker blush were almost physically pushed out of him with the brutal pace Hannibal set. The table was rattling and a plate fell off with a crash. Something else spilled and even more things shattered.
‘You’re more responsive than usual Will. Does being watched turn you on?’ Will moaned as way of answer because he doubted he was able to be coherent anymore. ‘Maybe next time we should have someone alive watching. Would that make you happy?’ Will gasped for breath as the pace got even more punishing. He knew Hannibal was testing him. He knew the man didn’t like to share, especially when it came to Will. He demanded his undivided attention. Suddenly the professor’s unexpected invitation to the dinner table made a lot more sense…
‘No!… I only want… you watching me….’ He was suddenly turned on his back, his gaze forced to shift from the Professor to Hannibal. The tell-tale smile on the doctor’s face told him he’d past the test.
‘Likewise.’
Will reached for Hannibal and the other lowered himself enough for arms to lock around his shoulders and bring their bodies closer together. Will needed the physical contact and Hannibal was happy to indulge him. He tangled his fingers in the wet curls and pulled Will to him, locking their lips in a searing kiss while his other hand wound around the leaking member. It was the final push Will needed and he yelled Hannibal’s name, trembling from head to toe as he came in white spurts all over his stomach. He clung to the other man, leaving breathy kisses along his neck, until he felt Hannibal’s release fill him.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, breathing heavily as the perspiration across their skins began to cool. Hannibal left soft kisses across Will’s skin, what passed for love between them replacing the possessive passion of before. It was with some reluctance that the two eventually separated, though Will had an inkling they wouldn’t get much sleep that night.
‘I’m still hungry you know…’ Hannibal smiled, his eyes drifting to the corpse sitting so nicely a hand’s reach away. Will was sure he knew exactly what was coming next…
‘I’ll fix you something right away. Fortunately we just procured some mouth-watering fresh meat. What are you in the mood for?’ Will scoffed as he sat up, feeling a number of new bruises all over his body.
‘Something that goes well with red wine.’