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Jack wasn’t sure what he expected from the tape, but it wasn’t this.
Maybe it should have been. It was suspicious enough to get an anonymous tip about Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham’s whereabouts from Canada, of all places.
Downright eerie was the empty cabin, dusty and obviously abandoned for weeks and weeks. It was either abandoned, or Hannibal had finally died, for he would never live in such a stuffy place.
On the inside, the rooms were bigger, more open than Jack would have guessed. The living room held three large couches and a fireplace. The room opened into the kitchen, flowing seamlessly together into a whole. Every piece of equipment screamed money. Jack took one look at the kitchen and realized the tip might not be so fake after all.
So, despite the obvious empty state of the cabin, Jack walked upstairs. There was a bedroom, with a single king-sized bed, a large bathroom, and one other room. Jack had tested the handle to find it locked.
A little interference from two Canadian detectives fixed that problem.
The door swung open, revealing a large room, much grander than the master bedroom. The interior walls were a luxurious forest green, with soft grey carpet giving it a gentle vibe, much in contrast to the implements decorating the walls. There were shelves with boxes, a large cabinet with one open door revealing a multitude of knives and whips, a master bed with cuffs on all four corners, a St. Andrews Cross, some type of swing, a bench situated on a tiled part of the room. Hooks and chains and in the midst of all that, a single camera on a tripod.
Jack should have known better than to touch it.
He did know better.
Still, he found himself walking over, flipping open the side panel and pressing play.
The same room, at nightfall. Soft yellow light shines from a corner of the room. The camera is pointed at the St. Andrews cross, but it is empty.
Nothing happens, and for a little bit Jack wonders if this is all he will see.
Will walks into the room. He looks good, healthy, dressed in a fitted blouse and soft slacks shaping his figure nicely. His curls frame his face, nearly touching his shoulders. Together with the lack of beard and the sheer calm in his eyes, it’s enough to make him look years younger.
Wills sinks to his knees in from of the camera, eyes on the floor. He doesn’t move, not even when Hannibal slowly positions himself behind him.
‘Darling boy,’ Hannibal breathes. ‘You are so precious to me. My intelligent, malicious, precious boy.’ He strokes Will’s curls, tugs the hair back until Will is staring at the ceiling.
‘I’m going to get your collar now,’ Hannibal states. ‘What do you say to that?’
‘Thank you, daddy.’ Will doesn’t skip a beat, doesn’t hesitate as he speaks the words with utter conviction.
Hannibal presses a lingering kiss to his boy’s forehead and exits the frame. There is some noise in the background, but Will doesn’t move, holds the position Hannibal left him in.
Within moments, Hannibal is back, fastening a black leather collar around Will’s neck. It looks expensive, precious.
‘Good boy,’ Hannibal says. He tugs lightly at the collar. Will moans in response. Hannibal chuckles but walks away to sit on the bed.
‘Come here darling.’
Will falls down onto his hands and knees and, in fluid movements, crawls over to Hannibal.
‘Good.’ Hannibal trails his fingers over Will’s face, pushing a thumb into his eagerly awaiting mouth. Will sucks it down, wantonly trailing his tongue around the digit.
Hannibal smirks and presses down, forcing Will’s mouth open. ‘Such an obedient pet you are, my love. Do you want your reward now?’
Will’s face flusters and he moans around Hannibal’s finger. With a last, lingering suck, he pulls back. ‘Yes, daddy,’ he says sweetly, looking up at Hannibal through lidded eyes.
Hannibal’s smile is positively predatory. ‘Then undress, my lovely little slut.’
The words don’t surprise Will. His eyes go glassy, his mind far away as he undressed rapidly, folding his clothes neatly at his feet. He moves until he kneels at Hannibal’s feet once more, resting on his knees and feet, legs spread wide to show the shaved curve of his pelvis, his cock curving up to his belly.
‘That’s daddy’s good little cockslut,’ Hannibal purrs. ‘Tell daddy what you want, darling.’
‘May I suck your cock, daddy?’ Will asks. His tone is sweet and innocent, his pose submissive.
‘Of course. Good little boys may always suck their daddy’s cock.’ Hannibal leans back, legs spread wide and that is all the permission Will needs. He reaches for Hannibal’s zipper and pushes the boxer and trousers down far enough to free Hannibal’s thick cock. As soon as he can reach it, Will mouth at the skin, licking around the uncircumcised head, moaning in delight at the taste.
‘Daddy, you taste so good,’ he moans.
Hannibal observes Will with cool eyes. ‘Then suck me properly, darling, like the little slut you are.’
‘Yes, daddy.’
Hannibal groans as Will opens his mouth and sucks his cock into warm heath, swallowing it down until Will’s nose is pressed firmly against Hannibal’s crotch. He stays still for a bit, his throat working hard against the intrusion, before trying to move back.
Hannibal’s hands grip Will’s head tighter and pushes his boy back into his pelvis.
‘Relax, Will,’ Hannibal murmurs when Will’s body starts to shake. ‘Let daddy take care of you.’
The tension drains from Will’s features at the soft words. He allows his body to slacken and moans breathlessly around Hannibal’s cock.
‘That’s a good boy.’ Hannibal inches his hips back, giving Will a single breath of air before he pushes back in again. Will doesn’t choke this time, he simply opens his mouth and lets Hannibal use him.
Hannibal’s movements pick up force and speed, forcing his cock down Will’s undoubtedly aching throat.
‘That’s it, darling. Daddy’s going to cum now,’ Hannibal mutters as his pace becomes frantic. ‘Be a good slut and drink up.’
Will doesn’t respond, but when Hannibal’s hips still and the older man throws his head back in bliss, Will presses his nose firmly into greying pubic hair and drinks his fill.
‘Good boy,’ Hannibal whispers. He pulls Will’s head back, gently brushing a single trail of semen from Will’s chin. He holds his fingers out to Will, who sucks them down wantonly, spreading swollen lips around the digits.
‘Did you like that, darling?’
‘Yes, daddy,’ Will says. His voice is hoarse, throat bruised and raw, but the look he gives Hannibal holds no less devotion than before.
‘Than stand.’
Will rises slowly, showing the camera his own aching cock, the flush that colors his body a sweet, rosy pink, his glassed over eyes and rose-red lips. Without further instruction, he walks to the St. Andrews Cross and moved into position.
Hannibal tucks himself back in his pants. He exits the camera frame, taking his time with whatever he deems more necessary than Will, standing there, shivering lightly.
Hannibal comes back in the frame and makes a beeline for Will. He kisses his trembling boy’s hair, mumbling sweet nothings no camera could pick up. He reaches up and fastens Will to the cross, first by his hands, then the feet. He tests each bond carefully before standing up once more.
‘How are you doing, baby boy?’
‘Good, daddy.’ Will speaks clearly, a shiver of anticipation in his voice.
‘Perfect,’ Hannibal uncoils a large leather whip and flexes it none too gently against his own tight. ‘How many do you need today, pretty boy?’
‘However many you want to give me, daddy.’
Satisfaction gleams in Hannibal’s eyes. ‘Good boy. Ten will do for now.’
The first whirl of the whip sounds remarkable hard on camera, harder still is the sound of leather meeting skin.
Will gasps and arches his back at the sting.
‘Is that good, sweet boy?’ Hannibal asks.
‘Harder, Daddy, please.’
‘Harder?’ Hannibal pretends to consider it. ‘Very well then.’
If the first blow sounded forceful, it’s nothing compared to the second.
Will gasps in pain, his hands clenching in his bonds. Hannibal barely gives him time to breathe before he lays down the third, fourth, fifth…
Each strike leaves Will’s skin with a red stripe over his back, trailing all the back down to his ass. By strike seven, Will shags in his bonds, not making a single sound.
‘Ten,’ Hannibal counts. He drops the whip and moves to Will.
With practiced, gentle movements, he unties Will from the cross, bearing his weight with ease.
‘That’s it, darling boy,’ he hushes. He lays Will down on the bed, on his stomach, ignoring his aching cock for now. Instead, he touches Will’s skin with reverence, applying lotion on the welts while he whispers praises into Will’s skin.
‘You’re so good for me, my love. Tell daddy what you want.’
Will’s response is muffled, nearly lost into the pillows.
‘Fuck me, daddy. Want your cock.’
‘Of course.’ With a lingering kiss, Hannibal pulls back and economically divests himself of clothing. He goes to his knees beside the bed and, grabbing Will’s ankles, pulls him towards the edge of the bed. Hannibal’s thumbs kneed the curve of Will’s ass, spreading him wide and diving in like a starving man. Will’s fingers clench on the bed as Hannibal licks over his rim, laving him generously with his tongue. It’s partly what he wanted, but it’s not enough at all.
‘Please daddy, more.’
Hannibal pulls back and grabs the lube from the bedside table. ‘More? More of what? Use your words, darling.’
‘Touch me more, daddy. Inside, please!’
Hannibal flips the cap open and pour’s cold lube over Will’s ass. He revels in the way Will gasps, arching his back, making the lube run all the more perfectly over his rim. He drinks in the sight before spearing Will with two fingers.
‘Daddy!’
There is nothing gentle about Hannibal’s pace. He fucks Will hard, curving his fingers with practiced ease, pressing Will to the brink of oblivion before pulling him back again. Will’s fingers claw at the bed, he sobs into the sheets, writhing and begging messily, spurring Hannibal on with the wanton moans spilling from his lips.
‘Please, daddy, please! Fuck me!’
‘Be still, baby, daddy’s taking care of you.’ Hannibal presses a kiss to a welt on Will’s buttock and rises. He climbs onto the bed, grabbing Will by one arm to hoist him up and flip him over. Will hisses as his back hits the sheets and a single drop of pre-cum escapes his tip. His legs fall open, and Hannibal pushes Will’s knees up towards his chest and, in a single movement, presses into Will’s body.
Will screams.
Hannibal doesn’t halt, doesn’t allow Will to get used to the stretch. Instead, he sets a punishing rhythm, his muscles moving, stretching visibly as he pounds into Will’s hole.
‘So good! Oh god, daddy, please let me come! Please!’
‘Not yet,’ Hannibal says, looking down at Will. ‘Just a little more, my love. You can handle a little more.’
Will shakes his head wildly from side to side, sobbing hard, but he doesn’t come, doesn’t snake a hand towards his cock or grind up into Hannibal’s belly. He holds still, relaxes as much as he can with the pleasure building in his stomach, winding him tight.
Wind him up and watch him go, that much hadn’t changed in their relationship.
‘Good boy,’ Hannibal whispered. ‘You’re so perfect. So good. My beautiful little slut. My darling Will. Come for me, darling. Come on my cock.’
Will arches his back and spills all over his belly, moaning weakly as Hannibal pushes in twice more before succumbing to the tightening of Will’s body.
They lie together, panting loud enough for the camera to pick up. Long moments pass before Hannibal gets up and pulls his cock from Will and walks over to the camera.
The screen goes dark.
Jack stands frozen for half an eternity, uncaring of the detectives fidgeting behind him.
‘Sir?’ a young officer asks, moving half an inch too close. Jack pulls his eyes from the screen and storms out of the room, screaming orders as he goes. ‘Tag everything and sent it to Quantico. And I mean EVERYTHING!’
He gets into his car and drives to his hotel. The only stops he makes is at a small store by the side of the road, where they still wrap liquor into a brown paper bag.
On the other side of the equator, Will plays with the puppy Hannibal got him as soon as they arrived.
‘Do you think Jack found the cabin?’ he asks when Hannibal sets a plate of freshly cut fruit before him.
Hannibal raises his brows slightly. ‘Now, darling. I know you are far superior, but Jack is not entirely incompetent.’
Will laughs. ‘I was just wondering if he found the tape yet.’ He raises his eyes to look at Hannibal. ‘I was very convincing, wasn’t I, daddy?’ He drawls out the last word and rises, tangling his fingers into Hannibal’s hair.
‘You are a horror.’ But Hannibal’s voice is hoarse and he pulls Will closer.
He always pulls Will closer. He always pulls Will home.
Home is where the heart is, after all. And who knows? Next time they decide to move, they might leave Jack a new tape.
There were still plenty of things that could shock the old man, after all.