Work Text:
It wasn’t completely unexpected. Their relationship started gradually and everyone was so quick to say how much happier the two appeared with each other. They had met based on the whim of Alana Bloom, who decided to try and get Will Graham more social experience at one of her mentor’s parties. As her plus one, he lost Alana to the crowd, speaking to people she hadn’t seen in a while and drawn off into long exchanges. As a new academy instructor, Will was better known for his previous work as a homicide detective and his particular set of insight he had been able to provide. Going to that party was a mistake, he spent most of his time fielding inquiries from doctors and interested psychiatrists who wanted to study his manner of thinking.
He only managed to escape such academic scrutiny when the host himself, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, took it upon himself to act as buffer from his less than civilized colleagues, many of which wouldn’t receive further invitations to dine.
To be dined on was another matter.
That wasn’t to say that Will was fully appreciative by any means.
“Great, you can control your sycophants. Excellent party Doctor, impeccable hosting.”
The sharp sarcasm startled Hannibal. “I was unaware there was a grade at the end.”
Will’s blue eyes met Hannibal’s own for a moment, “That’s the trick, you never know when you’re being tested unless you pass or fail.”
“And how have I done so far?”
The instructor gave a self-deprecating chuckle, “As if you care what I think.” He started walking away, “Tell Dr. Bloom I got tired and left. Thank you again for the lovely evening.”
Hannibal should have been turned off by the seemingly rude behavior. But all he could think was that for some inexplicable reason, he did wonder what Will Graham thought.
It didn’t happen quickly, nor entirely smoothly.
His luck came when he was invited to the opening of the Evil Minds Research Museum and ran into Jack Crawford, the current head of the BAU. Hannibal was able to set up a rapport and had the distinct pleasure of seeing the first ever meeting between Jack and Will. It was a lovely argument over how ridiculous the name was. Will left after having ruffled Jack over the fact that it ‘mythologized banal and cruel men who didn't deserve to be thought of as supervillains’.
It made Hannibal even more interested in the man, inexplicably charmed. Especially when he dismissed Hannibal’s presence so easily.
From there, Hannibal found himself going out of his way to run into Will Graham. Stopping by Quantico to foster his professional relationship with Jack Crawford, he sometimes found himself standing in the doorway of Will’s classroom and listening to his lectures. That quick mind was masterful and provided excellent insight into ‘evil minds’. He was fairly certain the depth of his insight was tied to an empathy disorder. Which frankly, made Mr. Graham an even more intriguing man.
It was easy to take on the challenge of a man that found Hannibal tasteless. It was novel, especially since the doctor usually found himself inundated with people hoping for his friendship. And his curiosity was piqued.
Quick drives over when he had a long lunch proved to be the way to wear Will down. The familiarity of Hannibal’s presence seemed to take the bite out of his defensiveness. The extra portions of lunch that the doctor was happy to share only bridged their tentative friendship. He could nearly say they were friends.
And later, when Will arrived at Hannibal’s office, bearing surprisingly high quality food from a bistro, the doctor would eat it. Even if he hadn’t prepared it himself, it was the thought that counted. And Hannibal thought they were very much friends when Will finally smiled at him.
It didn’t happen quickly. Neither man could be said to be spontaneous in anything. There were casual dinners at Hannibal’s, far less formal than their first meeting. Sometimes, and more frequently as time passed, they had long discussions afterwards that solidified Hannibal’s regard for Will’s mind.
Hannibal’s impromptu visit to Will’s house in Wolf Trap helped solidify their friendship. He had never seen Will so at peace nor as calm as he was watching his dogs play in the yard. Seven dogs was surprising but oddly fitting. He made sure to sneak them bits of breakfast sausage during their meal. Hannibal was never one to overlook potential allies in his endeavors.
And when Will laughed and said, “You’re spoiling them with your cooking,” Hannibal knew that he had a new goal in mind.
He wanted Will Graham, in the most base way. He wanted to listen to him speak about new forensic procedures and bite along those too sharp collar bones. Hannibal wanted to possess.
Another novel feeling, courtesy of this professor.
It wasn’t difficult to shift the tone of their relationship. Will Graham had a small social circle, even smaller were those that found his sharp demeanor attractive. Hannibal had the advantage that he had already gained his trust. It was easy enough to turn subtle signals into subtle actions, more dinners, longer touches, closer proximities. It took Will long enough to catch on, perhaps never being on the receiving end of flirtatious behavior. But Hannibal knew when it was finally reciprocated, the dark blown out pupils and soft flush blooming across Will’s cheeks and neck.
And when he leaned in to kiss, perhaps still unsure that someone like Hannibal could like someone like him, the doctor soothed those fears by meeting him halfway. The soft scratch of Will’s stubble was enough to make him sigh against his lips, and enough to stop himself from biting along those lips to see if his blood tasted as sweet as he imagined.
There would be time enough to figure that out.
Their changed relationship was well accepted, most of Will’s coworkers at Quantico had already thought they were dating. It helped ease that tension along Will’s shoulders, that even if he didn’t care what others thought, some small part of him still craved the acceptance. That was one of the secrets of Will Graham, one that Hannibal would never divulge.
Exploit perhaps, but only for his own gains. Personal gains. He finally had Will Graham.
He could admit that the ease of the relationship was unexpected. Even if he had never expected to find himself in a normal long-term relationship, he could never have anticipated how well they fit together. Past the sarcasm and anti-social behavior, Will Graham was charming in his own manner.
As much as Hannibal had ensnared, he found himself ensnared in turn. It wasn’t as terrifying now, the thought of losing some of his personal freedom. He gained enough from it to think that he hadn’t lost much at all.
The first time they had sex, it was at Hannibal’s house after Will’s finals week. There wasn’t much lead up, nor was there any level of anticipation for it throughout the evening. One moment, they’re doing the dishes together, the next, Will was crowding against Hannibal, soap-slick hands wetting his shirt, pulling him in for a filthy kiss that ended with both of their pants unzipped and that same soap-slick hand drawing Hannibal out. A few perfunctory pumps was all he got to try before the doctor turned and slammed him against the counter, pushing him down and fumbled for the bottle of olive oil on the counter. It was fast from there, more clothing pushed aside in haste before a few slick fingers pushed against Will’s entrance, opening him up and leaving him a panting mess.
“Hannibal, Hannibal,” it was nearly the only thing he could say as he pushed back against those strong, sure fingers.
In his haste, olive oil dripped down his forearm and on the counter, but it was more than enough to slick himself up. He took his time to savor the moment, his first act of victory in conquering Will. He teased the head of his cock against the rim to watch it flutter and try to pull him in. He barely pushed in before sliding out several times to watch Will open up for him, only for him.
Will was insistent and didn’t give Hannibal the satisfaction of teasing long before he arched up, threw an arm back to hook behind Hannibal’s head and pulled him in, kissing him deeply before slamming his hips back to take Hannibal all in. The doctor couldn’t stifle the moan dragged out of him, could barely do more than keep up with Will’s hard rocking on his cock, the lapping at his lips.
For once, he was alright with completely losing control of a situation. That he lost control of Will only highlighted that he made a perfect choice in partner. Someone that would keep up and outpace him. Will Graham was a creature that Hannibal was proud to have tamed enough to keep for his own.
He wrapped his arms around Will’s torso, thoughtfully thumbing at his nipples through his shirt as he scratched his way down sparse hair that thickened around Will’s leaking cock. There was enough spilled oil left on the counter to make his hand glide smoothly as he pumped along the shaft, the suddenness enough to make Will groan and arch forward into it before rocking back and clenching hard against Hannibal. Their kissing slowed in contrast to their frantic movements, Will had his other hand bracing against the edge of the sink, Hannibal gripped tightly against a hip to pull him back to grind into him.
With little more than an added twist from his wrist, Will came hard, pushing back near violently against Hannibal and pulling his head away from kissing to bite along Hannibal’s jawline. Cum slid against the sink, even a few splatters against the window above it.
Hannibal took a moment to savor the sharp sting of the bite under his jaw, now that Will was languid he took the time to sooth it with his tongue.
“Sometimes I bite, is that all right?”
The doctor could only chuckle, “More than alright,” before he pulled back to slam back into Will, setting a fast pace. The empath brought Hannibal’s hand off his own stomach, still sticky with cum, and lifted it to his mouth, sucking at his fingers, lapping at the webbing between the Doctor’s fingers to clean each streak off. A sharp suck on his index finger was enough to push Hannibal over, pulling Will back tightly against his hips and leaning over him enough to make him nearly bend fully over the counter.
Panting, with their sweat cooling, Hannibal mournfully pulled away, trickles of oil and cum leaking down the backs of Will’s thighs. Will leaned forward on his elbows, his head falling forward.
“Full marks Dr. Lecter. 10/10, would do again.”
Hannibal palmed at Will’s thighs, enjoying their quivering. “I was unaware I was being graded,” He ran his fingers along the academy instructor’s ass, getting a most brilliant idea. “Perhaps I can increase your esteem, extra credit, if you will.”
“What are you---”
The doctor knelt and ran his hand along the inside of Will’s thighs, catching oil and cum before pushing it back into Will. He spread Will’s cheeks, holding them apart as he lapped at the trails from the reddened rim, flicking his tongue inside to pull out more. He nibbled lightly on it, soothing it with his tongue as he heard Will keen. Those quivering thighs were nearly shaking as he sucked on it, his tongue running along its fluttering edge. Hannibal’s grip tightened as he heard Will’s gasping. By the time he pulled away, the rim was red and puffy, and his partner had broken out into a sweat, cock resurging to half-mast.
Leaning back on his heels, Hannibal felt full satisfaction as he asked, “And now?”
Will slid down from the counter, pulling off his shirt, “Now I think I need you to fuck me again. Have to retake the test for a new grade.” He kicked off the pants from his ankles and crawled into Hannibal’s lap, “Trust me, I’m a teacher.”
Hannibal could only respond by standing up, Will’s arms and legs automatically going around his torso. He kicked off his own trousers, one of the first times he didn’t treat his clothes with care.
He carried Will upstairs to his bedroom. “I’ve always excelled at academics. It appears I have a teacher to impress.”
Will’s laughter carried throughout the house, followed by loud moans.
From there, they were near inseparable. If they weren’t enjoying each other’s company, than they were fucking, sometimes nearly indiscreetly in Hannibal’s office. Once in Will’s, but the busy hallway caused them to nix the idea of repeat performances; anyone could come in at any time and Hannibal found himself reluctant to share this part of their relationship with anyone.
They dated, and it was enough for Hannibal, for a time. They still lived in separate households, Baltimore and Wolf Trap. The commute wasn’t ideal, but they made it work. Especially once Hannibal was brought on to help with profiling. Jack had been trying to get Will to provide his insights onto the ongoing Ripper case with little success. After discussing the possibility with Hannibal, the empath found himself subtly persuaded not to take it. Wasn’t that why he left the homicide department in New Orleans? Looking was too hard to come back from, he had to think of his mental health.
Will was easy to acquiesce after looking contemplative for a time, and Hannibal was pleased. He didn’t look forward to the possibility of killing the empath if he got too close. The sharp protectiveness he felt was not unexpected, Hannibal always took good care of his possessions. And Will was undoubtedly his.
Jack was satisfied with gaining Hannibal Lecter’s help. Offering his services to create a psychologically based profile and gleam what he could from old crime scene photos was enough to turn Jack’s gaze away from Will. And it was enough to insinuate himself at the center of the investigation, free to drive it where he pleased and stay ahead of it.
And it gave him more time at Quantico, more time with Will besides long lunches.
It was after one of Will’s classes that they were both sitting and enjoying the quiet company, Will grading, Hannibal making notes on one of his favorite crime scenes, the one where he left a man’s tongue in a bible, that Will spoke.
“I think we should move in together.”
Hannibal put down his paper’s and gave his full attention to the teacher. “Whose house?”
Will scoffed, “As if you have to ask. You hate my kitchen.” He finished writing notes on a student’s essay. “Yours, but you’re going to have to accept 7 dogs into your life too.” He looked up, looking uncharacteristically nervous but still determined to have his way.
Dear Will, never wanting approval but still somehow craving it.
“I suppose they’ll have run of the yard and in the cooler months, they could stay on the porch. I won’t have them in the house.”
The bright smile was worth the extra cleaning he knew he’d have to do. And he could monopolize Will’s time more fully if they lived together.
For such a large house, Will didn’t have much he wanted to bring with him. Hannibal’s house had everything already they could possibly need. He only brought over his collection of books to add to the study, his clothes, odd knick-knacks he had picked up, mostly dog figurines. His fishing lure equipment was easy to tuck away onto a small secretary table by a window. The dogs had to adjust to the more confined area. More like Will had to adjust to their new outdoor confinement.
Hannibal knew a losing battle when he saw one. He supposed it was enough that he had Will near all the time now. It wasn’t quite as difficult to share with others that wanted to spend as much time with Will as himself. They had helped him gain Will’s trust more easily, a reward was perhaps necessary.
Seeing Will’s face as he opened the door and was swarmed by his pack was a reward for himself.
Will rode him later that night in their bed, thighs bracketing Hannibal’s, his hands digging into the doctor’s chest for balance. His nails cut into his skin, his fingers tangled into the sweat-curled chest hair, pulling painfully hard, overridden by Will’s heat tightly around him. It was hard enough to meet his frantic pace, Hannibal had to grip onto Will’s hips to try and keep up, harder than it seemed against sweat-slippery skin.
Leaning forward, Will kissed roughly along Hannibal’s sharp cheek bones, whispering something that was lost to his skin. It was only as he moved his lips toward Hannibal’s own that he could finally hear the soft mantra of “I love you.”
Hannibal carded one hand through Will’s curls tightening his hold on the back of his neck as he kissed him, savored the moment that Will was finally his.
Will slowed his frantic rocking and took to long languid thrusts, dragging Hannibal out with only the tip still in before pushing back and taking his cock deep, deep enough to glance off his prostate, to make him sigh into Hannibal’s mouth. It was slow and sweet and when Hannibal came, it was with his teeth sinking into Will’s swollen bottom lip, finally tasting his sweet blood as he emptied into the empath. Will let him suck at the torn skin, drawing out the taste for him to savor.
He sat up, and frantically jacked off, not needing more than a few pumps to cum across Hannibal’s chest, semen mixing with sweat. With a coy look, Will ran his hands along the doctor’s chest, smearing and rubbing in the mess to his skin. Still oddly charming.
Will pulled off and rolled to his side, flush against his partner. He slung an arm across his torso and nuzzled against his shoulder. “Thank you Hannibal.”
“10/10, would ride again?”
The laughter that came out of Will was loud and joyful, “Yes, but I meant thank you for letting my dogs in. I know you don’t really want them in the house, but letting them in anyways means a lot to me.”
Hannibal rolled to his side to draw Will closer. “I find myself surprised sometimes at what I’m willing to compromise on just to see you happy.”
Will pecked him on the cheek, “You’re a good man Dr. Lecter.”
Oh, if only Will knew.
A few days later, a doggy door was installed in the kitchen side door. Hannibal got a frantic blowjob in the kitchen, pushed against the fridge. Being kind had its rewards.
It should have been a poignant mark in the change of Hannibal’s behavior; doing something for someone else without obligation to do so. For so long, he had the tendency to act in his own self-interests, acting to include the scope of another person in his life was something he hadn’t done willfully for a very long time. It was as close to normal as he felt he would ever come, but it was enough if it ensured Will stayed by his side.
He still kept his own activities, carefully planned when Will was busy in the study grading, or as nightly appointments with busy clients. Hannibal was especially careful to call when he got a chance, when his victim had finished bleeding out or stopped breathing were prime moments. He didn’t need the scrutiny of possible infidelity concerns to sour their relationship or make Will especially vigilant. He was at the point where killing Will would be troublesome. He did so hate to lose and Will had been his greatest gamble.
Jack had started farming talent from the student pool, assigning them meaningless tasks to try and find any leads he could on the Ripper. Hannibal enjoyed his frustration and kept a careful eye when one started going through medical records. Her visit to his practice was sadly cut short when she pieced together the Wound Man to a previous kill of his. He could appreciate her intelligence, and even when faced with one of the most prolific serial killers on record, she still fought. Even he could admit, she was a brave young woman. She still lost, but no one would best Hannibal when his freedom was at stake. Not when he’d be forced to leave someone he had finally won after months behind. Her disappearance was a severe loss to Jack and the agent slipped back into quietly trying to catch the Ripper after the terrified phone call from his young protégé. It languished as a cold case that only Jack and Hannibal worked on.
The doctor was pleased when he remained the sole outsider working on the case once again. The trainees were seen as too young, too reckless to try and aid on when they should focus on graduating. Jack would only call him in whenever there was a new Ripper scene, and Hannibal had perfect control over that.
The FBI returned to its typical rhythm, one loss not enough to break them, but certainly enough to make them fear the monster they were chasing a little more. Will had commented how quiet the hallways were, how the lunch room never rose above a whisper for days after.
Hannibal returned to discrete kills, purposely not creating his sounder of three for a time to frustrate Jack even more. He had used his basement when he had to craft his more elaborate displays. Even if he wasn’t killing in his more ostentatious way, he still managed to kill for his own personal tastes. The hidden entrance and exit hidden in the outside shed were now used; the pantry entrance too risky to use regularly anymore. He had taken to processing his larger cuts, legs and rib cages that were far too distinctly shaped to pass off as from animals, in the basement. It was slightly more challenging, but he did so love a challenge.
It was later, with the dogs still underfoot but not as intrusive as he expected but with as much dog hair as he had, that Hannibal witnessed a curious thing. Will had come down from upstairs, latching closed a baby gate on the stairway to discourage the pack from going into the bedrooms. He stopped and ran his hand along the cherry wood, before he entered the living room to Hannibal reviewing patient notes. He sat beside him, still looking contemplative.
“What’s on your mind?”
Will startled from his thoughts. “Hmm? Oh, just thinking on things. Just…possibilities.”
Hannibal could tell simple evasion. And of all things, he hoped it wasn’t regarding putting too many pieces together; late nights, meat laden freezers, all he could think of were the possibilities Will could have seen as a former detective. He held his pen tightly, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hesitate, but he could make it a quick death. For Will’s sake or his own, he wasn’t entirely certain.
The teacher continued, “It’s just, we have everything. The house, the dogs, and sometimes I wander through upstairs and it’s so quiet. There’s so many rooms we don’t even use, they’re guest rooms, but, they could be more. And I think, sometimes, that I want that.”
Hannibal’s grip relaxed, he nearly wanted to laugh at the simplicity. “Children. What sort of father do you think you would you be?”
Will sat back on the couch, a soft smile on his face, “I would be a good father,” he turned his head toward Hannibal, with that soft look, “Have you ever been a father?”
It was an unsettling question, one he had never fully delved into with anyone. But Will was just not anyone, he was someone he wanted to keep, someone that could be called his after such a long time. “I was to my sister. She was not my child, but she was my charge. She taught me so much about myself. Her name was Mischa.”
“Was?”
“She’s dead. Occasionally, I drop a teacup to shatter on the floor, on purpose. I'm not satisfied when it doesn't gather itself up again. Someday perhaps, a cup will come together.”
Will was quiet for a long time, long enough for Hannibal to think he was lost in his own head again. But then, he quietly stated, “Maybe we’ll make that cup come together someday.” And left it at that.
But Hannibal couldn’t leave that matter, not when he thought of the possibility that perhaps a cup couldn’t come together simply on its own. It needed to be made.
And if for nothing else, it’d be another way to ensure Will continued to stay by his side. There was always the potential for him to make one of his famous leaps, but if he was so emotionally compromised, too close to the issue, it’d be far harder to see, much less believe. And a child had the added benefit of occupying the empath’s time; idle minds had the tendency to turn over problems at length. And Hannibal did so covet that mind.
But first things first, he’d probably need to marry Will first.
It was while taking the dogs to a dog local park to let them run out their extra energy, that he broached the topic.
“M-marriage? We haven’t really discussed it Hannibal.”
The doctor looked off into the distance, the leaves changing color, the dogs chasing each other in the cooler air. “We never discussed children until we did. And, from what I’ve gathered, most of the surrogate agencies tend to prefer candidates that are married.”
Will followed his gaze, “There are several options for children, why a surrogate?”
Hannibal wet his lips, “I think that I’ve grown attached to the idea of watching a piece of you grow, seeing the best aspects of you in a child we will both come to love.”
When men become fathers, they underwent biochemical changes that affected the way they think. And if Will felt a biological connection to the child, he’d be even more inclined to care for it and not whatever emotional blackmail Jack came up with next.
A child would trump any petty words Jack could try to sling together to emotionally appeal to Will. He had made polite inquiries of whether or not Will might be amicable to ‘just taking a look’ at some old crime scenes.
That would simply not do.
Will gave a quick whistle to call the dogs back. As they attached their leashes he finally said, “I suppose it’s only fair, you’ve passed all your tests with flying colors. I’ll just have to keep you.”
“It’s only fair. I’ve excelled with teacher supervision.”
Separating the leashes Will chuckled, “You’re impossible.”
On their walk home, the empath asked, “Should we talk about last names? If we have a kid, we have to think about that.”
Hannibal considered many things, mostly that ‘Graham-Lecter’ and ‘Lecter-Graham’ both sounded awful. There was an easy way to handle it though, ply at Will’s sympathy and finally show the world that he was completely his.
“My family always thought highly of names, their own in particular. I myself have not risen above this point of pride. But I would offer it to you, one of the few things I have left from my family beyond memories. It could be an opportunity to start again.”
Will looked contemplative before smiling at him, “A point of pride. I’m not particularly attached to my name, I could change it. That’d make it easier when we name our kid.”
They married in a civil ceremony at city hall. Will didn’t want anything extravagant, never seeing the point of spending so much money on a single day. Hannibal was content to have it done quickly, knowing legally he had tied Will to him. They had been together for some time, but beyond living together, there was nothing to connect them. Most of their coworkers and friends simply commented on the new rings and in Will’s case, his new name. Many had simply thought they were already married. Their constant orbit around each other a forgone conclusion. Now, platinum bands and documentation stated to the world that Will Graham belonged to Hannibal Lecter fully. They were the newly named Mister and Doctor Lecter.
He supposed it went the other way as well. The doctor had made many concessions, even more now as they were headed toward a different path than even Hannibal could have anticipated.
A cup was coming together for the two of them. Will had been right, active participation was better than simply hoping for resolution.
Married man with a child did sound better than older bachelor. Any suspicion would be easier to deflect.
The next part should have been the easiest, but Will was contradictory as always. Collecting a semen sample was taking Will too long in their bathroom. For Hannibal’s plans, a strict timeline had to be followed.
He called through the door, “Are you alright?”
Will sounded stressed, “I’ve done this before but not---not for procreation purposes. It’s just…strange.”
“I’m coming in,” was the only warning Hannibal gave before opening the bathroom door. Will was naked, leaning his hip against the counter as he held a collection cup in one hand, his half-hard dick in the other.
He looked nearly embarrassed, “I’m getting there, it’s just---I’m thinking too much. About what color to paint the nursery, about whether it’ll be a girl or boy, if it’ll be Autistic like me…”
It was endearing how much Will wanted this. The initial sacrifice to give this to Will was well worth it.
Hannibal crowded Will against the counter, not unlike the first time they fucked. He gently turned Will around to face the mirror, setting the cup near the sink. Of the multitude of body products on the counter, he chose his favorite scented lotion, squeezing some on his hand before gently handling Will’s cock. It was near flaccid now, the embarrassment at the perceived inability to perform getting to his partner. He was just thinking entirely too much.
The doctor smoothed his hand along Will’s member, slicking it and feeling its warmth. He moved to the head, thumbing along the opening before teasing down the underside, following the veins he knew would come to prominence as he hardened.
“These next few months are going to be an opportunity Will. What do you think will happen when we bring the baby home? We’ll not only be busy, but our opportunities to fuck are going to be greatly diminished. We’ll have to be quiet, so quiet as the baby sleeps. And I do love the sounds you make.”
Will’s cock was flush with blood, the weight heavy in his hand. He ran his thumb along the head again, collecting and smearing the drops of precum that started to leak out.
Hannibal started to slowly pump, crowding against Will, grinding his own hardness against him. “My favorite sounds are the ones that grow in volume. You moan like you’re dying, you scream as if I’m killing you. But we’re the only ones that know, it’s merely a little death.”
His empath mumbled out, “Only with you, no one’s ever made me feel like I’m dying. I feel like I’m getting my soul sucked out. But I think I’d want you to have it.”
He couldn’t help himself, not when Will offered so sweetly. Hannibal leaned down lapping against Will’s neck before he tightened his grip on his cock, increasing the tempo, before he bit down hard against his neck. His partner screamed as he was held firmly in place, trapped against the counter and Hannibal’s body, the pumping of his cock unrelenting.
Hannibal pulled away and met Will’s eyes in the mirror, maroon eyes meeting blue. As he spoke, blood stained teeth were revealed, “You’re mine Will.”
Will threw his head back, leaning it against Hannibal’s shoulder before he tilted his head toward his ear, “Yes.”
He had the sense enough to fumble for the collection cup and put it underneath his cock before he came.
And Hannibal was simply transfixed on the mirror, watching a trail of blood travel along Will’s chest.
Later, after Hannibal had tucked Will into bed, tired but satisfied, he hurried with the semen sample. Their surrogate was also the egg donor and she was ovulating, hence his strict timeline. With luck, the intracervical insemination would take. It was a simple enough procedure, a syringe with sperm inserted vaginally and injected as close to the cervix as possible. With the clinical efficiency of it, Hannibal was sure there would be enough time in their window.
It was the waiting that seemed to take too long. The earliest would be a week after ovulation, a better confirmation after 2 weeks. Will was distracted and worried, he only seemed at peace in bed, whether sleeping curled up against Hannibal or being fucked by him. The sense of anxiety was not beyond Hannibal either, he worried and considered the next steps. They’d have to try again another month, and if that didn’t work, look into more intensive procedures. The in-vitro procedures, that while they had a fair enough success rate, dealt with egg extraction hormone treatments for uterine preparation, the creation and implantation of embryos. It would take far longer to achieve results. Far too long to live with Will who was near vibrating out of his skin. He might even need to find another surrogate if that was the case; more time wasted finding and vetting a new candidate.
The weeks passed and when Will got home one day from the academy, Hannibal simply said. “10/10, excellent sample Mr. Lecter.”
He dropped his bag, it was lost beneath the bodies of his dogs milling about the foyer. His eyes looked glassy the closer he got, “I was lucky enough to have an excellent Doctor at hand.”
The embrace was far more warranted of the situation than their awful sense of humor. But it wouldn’t be Will without his strange sarcasm. The wetness that spread across Hannibal’s shirt was politely ignored.
The months passed; it was a different form of anticipation but one that wasn’t entirely as desperate, although sometimes they fucked like it was. There was something settling in the household that hadn’t entirely been there, a peacefulness besides the quiet moments they typically savored. They went about their routines; Hannibal still saw patients, Will still taught, Hannibal still killed, and Will took to running with the dogs after work.
After the three month marker, they finally started to tell others and the news felt more real for Will. They went out and bought paint, a soft yellow, to paint the closest guest room. The furniture was quickly exchanged for dressers, a crib and a large armchair in anticipation. Most of the decorating fell to Hannibal, his sense of style held in high esteem by his partner. It was tasteful, with soft grey and warm wood tones. It was enough that he could tolerate the new room, it’d have to be enough for all the time he knew he’d have to spend in it.
Past the four month mark, the baby’s sex was easily able to be determined. Hannibal found out but offered the choice to know to Will.
“No, let it be a surprise. After all, it’s a 50/50 shot, it could go either way.”
Hannibal glanced at him, “And you got it in one shot too.”
Will dragged a hand down his face, “You’re awful, I’ve rubbed off on you in the worst possible way.”
When the baby was due, Hannibal was able to clear his appointments for the day. He urged Will to go to work, there was no sense in both of them taking off. He did so, reluctantly, but only when Hannibal promised to call if any complication arouse.
By the time Will got home, it was to a bassinet in the living room, the baby asleep, swaddled in mint green blankets.
“What is it?”
Hannibal looked up from his book, casually dressed in just his button up and slacks. “A baby, if I’m not mistaken.”
“The sex. Is it a boy or a girl?” Will threw down his bag on a chair before walking quietly up to the infant. There wasn’t much to see, a small white cap with wispy brown hair barely visible, full pink face, pert nose, wrapped in a small green bundle.
Hannibal appeared behind him, a soothing hand resting on his shoulder, “A boy, we have a boy.”
Will ran a finger softly against a cheek, the long lashes twitching. “Did you pick a name? You needed to put something on the birth certificate right?”
“The surrogate agency handles the paperwork with their lawyers; there’s some leeway with the filing. I thought perhaps we could decide together, after seeing him finally.”
It had been a very long day and Hannibal hadn’t wanted to presume, their list of possible names was extensive. But especially since biologically, the baby was Will’s. It only seemed polite to offer him the final choice of name.
Will knelt down, laying his face against the edge of the bassinet as he gazed at their son. “What if…what if we name him ‘Hannibal’?”
That was completely unexpected. “And why would you want to? It’s not a particularly easy name to grow up with.”
“But it’s your name. And you might not have said a lot about your family, but I know your name is special to you, has some meaning.”
The doctor contemplated. Who else could he tell anyways? “It does have value to my family; there has always been a ‘Hannibal’, I’m the eighth in succession.”
“If you’d like, we could name him after you. But…if you wouldn’t want to because he’s not a part of your family, I could understand.”
This was another one of those moments that could define them. Hannibal didn’t particularly care for blood, his Uncle was all that remained and not particularly close to him. But he understood the way it could tie people together, such as Will to the child biologically. Connecting and retaining ties was difficult for Hannibal, his apathy and disdain almost too much to feign common courtesy. He could however, tie the child to him emotionally. What better way to declare acceptance then by giving the baby his name?
“Hannibal Lecter the Ninth then.”
Perhaps the Lecter household just needed some new blood, most of the original members were dead anyways. Only the strong seemed to survive that Winter.
Will stood and embraced him tightly. “Thank you Hannibal. Thank you.” He kissed him lightly, more a peck.
And the newly named Hannibal slept on.
Not as much changed as the doctor expected, but he did find another way to monopolize Will’s time. The teacher cut back on his classes to care for the baby, taking leave for the first few months to care for him. It was an added bonus for Hannibal, not having to worry needlessly that Jack could catch Will after a class to have him go over old crime scene photos. It would be even more difficult to kill Will now. He’d have to take care of the infant by himself, a child Will affectionately called ‘Hanni’.
There were times though that seeing Will interact with the baby made it seem nearly worth the sacrifice of sleep. The soft wispy hair curled, and as the baby grew, his eyes turned to the most perfect shade of blue. It was then, seeing the small near replica of Will that he thought about his main argument to have the child, rang true. The doctor did want to see the best of Will in a child, wanted to see him grow in all points in life. He felt greedy, wanting to horde the moments just as much as Will’s presence. Perhaps the cup had finally come back together.
He took a more active role, not merely doing simple caretaking, but taking the time to read to Hanni and speaking to him in quiet Lithuanian. He played his harpsichord when the baby was being fussy, Will’s walking back and forth with the baby across the living room soon came to a quick end.
As a toddler, several months old and being fed pureed pumpkin Hannibal made himself, Will broached something seemed to be weighing on his mind.
“Have you thought that maybe Hanni needs a sibling?”
Hannibal finished his quick cleaning of the kitchen. “I’ve not thought on the subject, but you seem to have.”
Will took a moment to spoon the puree to the baby, “I have been thinking about it. I never had siblings and it was lonely. I can’t help but apply my own experiences to Hanni. As he grows up, he’ll have friends, but what about when at home? When we’re both too busy with work to play with him?”
The doctor hadn’t considered that. He had vague memories with Mischa, of playing in the garden, going to the pond to feed the ducks and swans. There were so few memories of her, she had died so young, but they held a certain sense of childish joy. That was something that Will had never experienced, the simple joy of having someone always by your side from birth.
It wouldn’t be difficult to do at all.
“I think you’re correct Will.”
Hanni accepted another spoonful of pumpkin, “I think if we’re making a family, it’s only fair that the next child be yours.”
Hannibal accepted it as an inevitability, Will always did appreciate fairness. “Of course, but let’s not name him ‘William’ or it might get rather confusing in the house.”
“Daddy thinks he’s so funny doesn’t he Hanni?” Will said with the last spoonful of puree in hand. The baby squealed happily.
Will was thrilled to hear that the first surrogate they used was available. He seemed especially pleased with the growth of their family, whispering at night in their bed how good this would be for them. What a good father Hannibal was, how much he wanted to meet their new child. And Hannibal would simply tuck him into his arms, savoring the words. All that remained was collecting a sample timed well for the insemination.
The doctor should have anticipated it. Later, when he had retreated to the bedroom with cup in hand, settling himself against the headboard, eyes closed and thoughts of Will on his mind, he should have anticipated being followed. He felt the bed dip, and a warm body slide behind him, long legs bracketing his own. Will rested his chin on Hannibal’s shoulder and slid his arms around his waist.
“Let me offer you a hand Doctor,” he said as he slowly worked the button and zipper of Hannibal’s trousers, the hardening length already prominent.
The doctor leaned back more fully against Will, still with his eyes closed and sighed as Will’s hand pulled out his cock. “Sometimes I can’t remember my life before you Hannibal, it just seems like a haze. But whenever I think of us, all I can think of is how right we are together.”
Will gripped the thick cock, taking a firm hold on the foreskin, head already peeking out, as he languidly stroked. “I think of how good you feel, how warm you feel when you’re over me. How right you feel inside of me, you fill me up so perfectly. Sometimes all I can think of is you getting home just so you can fuck me.”
He slowed, pulling back on the foreskin to expose the head fully and thumb at the slit, dragging the precum down the underside. “I feel proud to walk beside you. I see the looks; people want you, they want to share your bed, they want to fuck you. But I have you, I have your name, your ring, your child. And no one will ever separate us.”
Hannibal felt flush, his head rolling to nuzzle at Will’s scruffy cheek, “Yes, you’re mine. Both of you are mine.”
Will slid a finger underneath the foreskin, lazily circling his cock. The sensation was nearly too much, too soft and not nearly enough.
“And this child will be ours too,” He started pumping fast, Hannibal’s hips pushing up to meet him. “And with two kids in the house, we’ll have to be quiet, so quiet. You’ll have to fuck me fast and make it count when we have a moment. I’ll bite my lips bloody trying to hold in my screams, but you’ll just lap it up, and swallow it down.”
He kissed along the doctor’s cheek, “You’re so good Hannibal, so good to me. And I get to keep you. How did I get so lucky?” Hannibal’s shirt was sticking to him, his back nearly drenched in sweat against Will, hard cock digging into his back. It was too much, too much affection, too many sweet words spoken to him so tenderly. He writhed at the constant pressure, nearly felt he couldn’t catch his breath.
“I like how you watch me, always so careful, always so sure. You give me as much as you take, wanting me to cum first, like it’s your job.” Will pulled forward, the foreskin completely covering the head. “But let me make you feel good, let me give to you.”
He twisted lightly before sliding back to a steady rhythm. Hannibal didn’t last much longer, not after Will dragged his teeth along the edge of his mouth. He sighed as he came in spurts, once again forgetting about the cup and leaving that part to Will. The doctor slid boneless against his partner, feeling soothing hands running along his heaving chest.
Later, Hannibal left with his sample. The clinical procedure, the intracervical insemination, with its syringe delivery, was carried out during the surrogate’s ovulation.
Which, weeks later, they discovered was successfully done so. Will once again wanted to be surprised and made sure Hannibal knew not to tell him the sex.
The waiting wasn’t as hard, they were busy with their work, Will going back. They worked on their schedules so one of them was always able to stay home and care for Hanni. And he took up a great deal of the remaining time, going from crawling to walking, starting to babble near words. Hanni loved the dogs; more than a few times, he was found curled up with the dogs in front of the fireplace. Will took pictures and Hannibal simply worried he’d regress and start trying to bark.
He got a sharp slap on the arm for that comment.
The birth of their second child happened while Will was at work and Hannibal was at home taking care of the baby. He sent a text message to let him know what to expect when he came home.
The bassinet had returned to the living room, Hanni was playing with the dogs, and Hannibal was composing on his harpsichord.
“What is it?” Will asked as he strode into the room. Hanni, ran up to him, eager to be picked up.
The doctor tilted his head, “A song I started when I first met you. It’s still not quite finished, but I feel it still has great potential.”
Will looked confused for a moment as he carried Hanni on his hip, “What? When you first met me? Wait, no, I meant the baby, what is it?”
Hannibal smirked, “A girl. We have a girl.” He got up to walk over to Will, overlooking the baby in the bassinet.
She was that newborn pink, wrapped in Hanni’s mint green baby blanket, asleep. She had the usual wispy baby hair, but the soft strands were light, a pale blonde.
“She has your hair.” Will took his time watching her, Hanni sat seemingly just as transfixed, watching her sleep.
It took more than a beat of silence before Will spoke again, “If your family name was an opportunity to start again, why not in this too? We’ve made the cup come back together once, why not a perfect set?”
That was…not an idea he had broached. When he had seen the new baby, Hannibal had a brief moment of memory, of his own parents presenting him with his younger sister, blonde hair nearly white in soft afternoon light. It was a thought he had pushed back before he had a panic attack, something he hadn’t had in a very long time.
And Hannibal could only think, there was already a new Hannibal Lecter, what would it be like if there was a new Mischa Lecter too? In name and in spirit, she could have her victory over death. That shattered cup could come together, as much as his own shattered childhood returned in their son.
Hannibal could only whisper the name, it nearly catching in his throat. “Mischa. Mischa Lecter.”
He felt Will crowd against him, the warm body of his namesake in between them. There was indeed a new Lecter family, Hannibal and Mischa were together again.
Will took a semester off, citing the care of their toddler and new infant. They had discussed getting a nanny, but had never done any real follow through. Perhaps they would never get one, perhaps Will would never return to work. Hannibal was pleased by the possibility; Will and their children ensconced in his house, waiting for his return. Jack was busy enough as it was to worry about losing Will for a semester, much less from the academy. Once he had once again rebuffed his request to ‘just take a quick look’, Will was left alone as Jack tried to find other forms of help. The Minnesota Shrike was killing young women and they disappeared with no bodies found.
And Jack in his desperation had called in Hannibal to help, to provide a profile. He lamented that he would be called away, but did so. If not him, Jack’s eyes would inevitably turn back to Will for results in his desperation. And Will’s responsibilities would always lie with Hannibal first.
It didn’t take much to figure out the overarching theme to the missing women, the Shrike found something precious in their shared look, something he didn’t let himself have. Or perhaps, something he couldn’t lose. The death of Elise Nichols was a boon; the returned body providing the first shred of evidence, the body itself and metal shavings. Before the autopsy had even started, Hannibal could detect the subtle odor of deterioration, sweet and cloying in its decay, something beyond simple death.
The meat was bad.
And from there, it was simple detective work, something trivial that Hannibal wanted no part of. He had a family to return to. And even as Garrett Jacob Hobbs killed his own family, Hannibal was content. He had his own.
There were other murders as months passed: mushroom farms, murdered families, and man-made angels. Hannibal consulted, more out of morbid curiosity than any moral obligation. He made sure his time with Will was as uninterrupted as possible. They enjoyed having to be quiet, more slow in their fucking, making the small time they had work as the children slept. Sometimes they only found a brief respite, kissing and rutting against each other for quick moments, but it was enough.
It was later, with Chilton’s claim to having the Ripper in custody. Abel Gideon had been incarcerated for two years and the death of a nurse bore striking similarities to a death from the Ripper.
Doctor Hannibal Lecter had been lax, playing family man rather than showing the FBI why he was the most prolific serial killer on the East Coast. Perhaps there was a balance that could be created. But for once, he hadn’t felt the need to taunt, the need to bait and boast. It could have been because he had all the attention he needed for once, his children and his husband.
Perhaps he did send Jack a phone call from a lost trainee, visited his house to plant blonde hair so he would not forget the shade. He needed to know the Ripper was free to do as he pleased.
But then, Jack Crawford, then man that always had to prove he was the best, that he would catch the Ripper himself, acted foolishly. He had Freddie Lounds write an article full of half-truths and blatant deception. It reeked of desperation but rankled him all the same. It infuriated him that such a simple ploy could throw him into a rage.
When he got home from his practice, Will seemed to pick up on his mood, handling the children’s care and doting on Hannibal through dinner. He kept his wine glass full, and cleared the table. Hannibal retreated to the study, and Will put their children to bed.
Later, Will arrived and poured them both shots of whiskey. Hannibal had bought it for him, something far better than what he used to drink. They sat in silence, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace and the whiskey. They finished several shots before Hannibal was startled from his plotting. Will sat in his lap, knees against Hannibal’s hips in the chair, kneeling and running cool hands along the planes of the doctor’s face. He dipped his head to kiss along the hard set of his mouth, gripped along the hair at Hannibal’s nape to pull his head back, kissing him deeper.
Hannibal nearly resisted, wanting to be left to his thoughts, but felt the tightening of Will’s legs around his thighs, the soft undulation of his hips that was making him hard. It felt good to focus on something different, to focus on the body of his husband, his greatest conquest.
Hannibal’s hands came to rest on Will’s hips, grinding up as he pressed further into Will’s kiss. It was similar to the times they caught in between their busy schedules, but Will acted with more intent. He reached those clever hands down and unzipped their pants, pushing down his own jeans further towards his knees, cock already hard and dripping, laying against Hannibal’s shirt and dampening it.
“We haven’t been able to do this in a while and I’ve missed you,” Will whispered as he pulled a tube of lube from his jeans pocket.
The doctor took it from his hands, spreading it along his fingers. “It has been quite a time hasn’t it? I’ve missed taking the time to prep you, making you come several times in a night.”
His slicked fingers found Will’s entrance, breaching him and easing him open. The empath pressed back against his fingers, biting his lips to hold in a moan. He braced himself with hands on Hannibal’s shoulders, rocking into the fingers that steadily grew in number.
He took his time, enjoying the flush that rose on Will’s face, how the kissing turned to nips and soft pecks along his jaw. The doctor managed to free his own cock, slicking it with more lube from the tube, before lining up and pressing in, pulling on Will’s hips to meet the thrust.
Will leaned forward into Hannibal, arching his back at the stretch. “Yes, yes,” he whispered.
From there, Hannibal couldn’t help but thrust into Will, pumping at a hard rhythm. Will’s head slid beside the doctor’s, his arms around his shoulders, holding on as Hannibal slammed into him.
“You always know what I need, dear Will,” he whispered into his sweaty neck.
He rotated his hips, hitting Will’s prostate, making him writhe, his moans loud in the small study. Hannibal slipped a hand in between them, feeling Will’s cock dragging along his shirt with each thrust. He gripped it and pumped; it didn’t take long, and the empath was cumming hard, stiffening and clenching his thighs, Hannibal’s cock held tight within him. He slumped against Hannibal, gasping for air, nearly sliding from the chair. The doctor’s grip on his hips tightened as he chased his own release, pounding into Will before pressing closely against him as he came.
Will whispered into his neck, “I love you Hannibal.”
Hannibal kissed him along his sweaty forehead in response.
When they went to sleep that night, Hannibal managed to slip out and handle Jack Crawford in a more rational manner then he would have before. Taking the time to clear his mind had done wonders for his strategizing; he had been so furious, he had been very likely to make a mistake. He kissed Will’s forehead again as he returned to bed.
The next morning, Jack Crawford found the phone that had called him. In the hand of Miriam Lass at the observatory. He called Hannibal to try and gleam what he could from the scene.
Before Hannibal left, he fucked Will in the shower, the empath’s legs wrapped high on his hips, his back pressed against the tiled wall. Will scratched along his back as he came and the burn felt like victory.
The doctor was perfectly apologetic about Jack’s loss. But the man just appeared more driven. Hannibal thought on how pride goes before the fall.
The next day, a severed leg was found outside a library, nestled on the mulch of a garden bed.
When Hannibal got home from the scene, he kissed Hanni and Mischa on the head and Will on the lips. Later, he pressed Will’s hips down on the bed as he swallowed his cock down, deep throating him and swallowing around the head. The empath covered his mouth with his hands to hold in his scream as he came.
Next, her other arm was found on a park bench.
Jack had the team scrambling to find some sort of evidence. All that remained was the perfect surgical cut that had severed it.
Hannibal took his time reading to the children, indulging them as they fought against sleeping. “A little past bedtime isn’t bad once in a while, just don’t tell Dad”, he told them in Lithuanian.
Will was nearly asleep as the doctor went to bed. He slid down his partner’s boxers, to soft pleased mumbling; Will shifted his legs open. Hannibal slicked his entrance, opening him languidly before sliding in, holding Will as he rocked into him, his chest pressed against the empath’s back. They came quietly, already nearly asleep.
The next day, Miriam’s other leg was found along the FBI Academy’s running trail. Jack was incensed, already feeling his superiors breathing down his neck. Hannibal offered nothing new to the profile, simply stating the fact everyone now knew. It was dangerous to bait predators.
After taking the dogs and children to the park for fresh air, the first time in a week they had been able to do so, Will pushed Hannibal into the study and dropped down to his knees, taking his cock out and laving his tongue under the foreskin, teasing the head and bringing him to full hardness. He took Hannibal into his mouth, pushing back the foreskin as he pumped what he couldn’t take. His blue eyes met the doctor’s, watering as he tried to take him as deep as he could. Hannibal carded his hands through his curls, pulling at them as he came on Will’s tongue.
The next morning, the head of Miriam Lass was found on Jack Crawford’s doorstep. Her blonde hair was loose, pooled around the severed neck on butcher paper.
Jack took time off of work, nearly broken as he found the head of the trainee he condemned trying to work around FBI protocols. Hannibal gave him a list of good psychiatrists.
That night, Hannibal finished up his report, citing Jack’s inflammatory behavior as inciting the Ripper to such a public response to journalistic baiting. He anticipated that if the head of BAU didn’t lose his job, he would be heavily monitored and every action reviewed before he could act.
The life of Miriam Lass ended, not with a whimper but with a bang. There was public outrage at her death, with her body parts being found scattered. Freddie Lounds ran a story on Tattle Crime that detailed at length her involvement with the ruse and how she had been manipulated by the head of BAU, Jack Crawford to write purposely to provoke the Ripper.
She broke the story, from one of her inside sources, that it was Jack Crawford that had Lass investigating the Ripper and following leads. He put a student in the path of the Ripper. Hannibal enjoyed the added turmoil.
He could admit that Miriam Lass figuring him out hadn’t been expected. He only anticipated giving her vague information on his previous patient and sending her on her way. Her mind was quick, piecing together his Wound Man drawing with his previous kill. She was a brave young woman, and if he could have spared her, he would have. But Hannibal valued his freedom and Will too much to lose either.
Hannibal kept her in the basement, unsure why he hadn’t just snapped her neck in his office. He suspected that it could have been because she didn’t fit his usual criteria. But he used the opportunity to test out a new therapy he was developing. Light therapy with the combination of a drug cocktail to perform and perfect psychic driving; something that could come in handy if suspicion ever fell on him.
It didn’t work as well as anticipated, the blackouts led to seizures, the seizures eventually led to impaired memory, and inevitably, Miriam Lass fell into a coma she never woke up from. Hannibal suspected status epilepticus, prolonged seizures, from toying with the dosages and mixes as he tried to make her mind susceptible into accepting Dr. Chilton as the Ripper. Medical science was nothing without its failures as much as its victories. Aggressive testing did have its drawbacks.
And while at the crossroads of what to do with her now that her brain activity was near non-existent, her body stuck in a coma it would never wake up from due to brain scarring, he toyed with the idea of eating her finally. Will offered him a different avenue; he wanted children, and while Hannibal could not provide any, the shell that was left of Miriam could.
He screened and tested her for health ailments and major genetic markers for hereditary conditions. She passed with flying colors, as Will would say. Hannibal attempted the medical procedure, dressed in scrubs, syringe in hand. In the basement, he inseminated her intracervically with Will’s sperm. And later, Hannibal ensured he was out of the house as he performed the c-section, delivering their first child in their own home.
Hannibal kept her alive, thinking on the idea of having a steady supply of fresh meat, being able to carve off pieces as he needed. But Will surprised him again, the idea of a sibling. The doctor donned his scrubs again, took up his collection cup and syringe, and commenced with the procedure. It was more difficult while caring for Hanni at the same time, but he took his portable crib down to the basement and put it off to the side, as he performed the c-section and delivered the second child.
He had planned to just let her die, let her bleed out from the incision or simply take out her numerous IVs. But something stayed his hand. It wasn’t sentimentality, it was practicality. With Will, it wasn’t hard to think that he might want a third child.
And then 2 months after the birth of Mischa Lecter, Jack Crawford made the mistake of trying to catch the Ripper’s attention. Will had calmed his previous bloodlust with another lust entirely. He would almost say that Will knew what had upset him and was attempting to soothe him.
But it had the added benefit of letting Hannibal act with a clear head. He knew what to do, what he wanted to do. He wanted to crush Jack Crawford’s ego.
Hannibal finally did get to disassemble Miriam Lass, but only for a drawn out disposal. He whispered to her body, as classical music played, that in the end, she had won. Her genetics were passed on to another generation, and her children would want for nothing and be loved.
By the time he got to her head, he was pleased by the response his gifts had received.
After her head was discovered and after he had finished up his report, he checked on the children in the nursery. Finding them asleep, he walked down the hall and found Will waiting in their bedroom on all fours, already naked on the bed, fingering himself with legs spread wide. His head was resting on pillows, facing away from the door, right arm twisted behind him, fingers already sliding into himself.
“Any special occasion for this Will? Or am I just lucky?” Hannibal asked as he slipped his tie off and started to unbutton his shirt.
Will continued stretching himself, “You were lucky the day you married me Hannibal. Only someone like me could put up with someone like you for this long.”
The sound of clothing rustling filled the room as he took them off and soon enough, Hannibal knelt on the bed, behind Will, admiring the view. His hands reached up and grabbed at his cheeks, spreading them to watch those clever fingers disappear within. He moved closer, grabbing the lube that was still on the bed, slicking his length and pumping it to full hardness.
“I am quite lucky, I have all my cups lined up in the cupboard, safe and sound.”
Will chuckled, “Please don’t compare our sleeping children to putting dishes away.”
Hannibal draped himself over Will, removing the prepping hand. He kissed along Will’s neck, nosing at his curls. “But you’re my finest china, something hard won and coveted.”
“I’m not a fragile teacup,” he moved his hips back, arching against Hannibal’s cock. The doctor took himself in hand and lined himself up, before pushing into Will slowly. He gripped at Will’s hips, his heat perfect and holding him so tightly.
Hannibal bit and licked at the nape of Will’s neck as he started to thrust, “Never fragile, but still something precious,” he whispered against Will’s ear. With a jerk of his hips, Will was pressing back to meet his thrusts, softly moaning. He dug his fingers tightly against Will’s hip bones, feeling their sharpness outlined beneath thin skin.
His husband tightened against him, clenching hard on Hannibal’s cock on each pass out, coaxing moans from the doctor. His fingers pressed hard against Will’s slim hips, dark bruises would surely arise the next morning.
Will slipped a hand beneath him, jacking off in unison with Hannibal’s thrusts. He came, barely managing to keep himself upright before the doctor pulled him closer and drove himself in repeatedly, slamming against Will before he could come no closer, and found his own release deep in Will. After a moment, he pulled out and fell to his back. Will merely slumped forward, too tired to worry about the wet spot left by his cum on the bed.
He mumbled happily, “I might not be fragile, but you always know how to handle me.”
Hannibal ran his hand along Will’s sweaty back, feeling the heat rising off of him. He got up and draped the covers over him so he wouldn’t catch a chill as he cooled off.
“And you always know how to handle me, dear Will.”
From there, the doctor took his time is cleaning himself up enough in the bathroom to be presentable before putting his clothes back on.
“Where are you going?” Will asked as he peeked out of the blankets.
Slipping his shoes on, Hannibal gave a small smile, “I need to deliver my report to Quantico. They want everything as soon as it’s finished so that they can finish the investigation. I’ll be quick, it shouldn’t take too long to drop off.”
He got up to fix his tie. Before he left the room, he kissed Will along the cheek before whispering, “Goodnight Teacup.” Will burrowed back in the bed with a grumble.
Not too long after Hannibal left, Will could hear the faint stirring of a cry, Mischa had woken up for her feeding. He pulled himself out of bed, still sticky, before slipping on a shirt and his boxers to pad over to the nursery. He had caught her in the nick of time, before she woke up Hanni with her screaming. He walked down the staircase with her angrily snuffling at his neck, past his pack of dogs asleep in the living room, to make his way to the kitchen.
It didn’t take long to fix up the formula or warm it. He enjoyed the quiet, not even needing the kitchen light on as he worked. Taking up the warmed bottle, Will walked to the pantry door, opening it and looking in. A faint line of light was visible along the trap door in the floor.
“We don’t go into the basement unless Daddy invites us, alright Mischa?”
Mischa sucked down the formula, her crying appeased. Will looked out the kitchen window to see Hannibal moving a tarp wrapped torso from the back tool shed, wearing a plastic suit.
“Daddy’s been very busy, huh, honey? But we wouldn’t like him any other way.”
She finished her milk and cooed happily.