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“I see my advice went ignored, once again.”
Hannibal was the first to break the silence. Fifteen minutes had slogged by. Wine and whiskey had been poured, Will’s glass half empty before Hannibal had even returned to his seat, warming the cold pit in his stomach. That week had sucked. Every week sucked, really. But that week had really done a number on Will. He’d barely had time to eat and sleep, let alone indulge in self care like the good doctor suggested.
“I was…busy. No time.” Will replied after a moment, unable to feel like anything other than a child being scolded. Homework: incomplete.
Tension filled the silence of Hannibal’s warm office, the crackles of the fire interrupting occasionally. Hannibal swallowed, throat working slowly. Will couldn’t help but watch, concealing his expression with another sip of whiskey. “We have all the time now,” Hannibal almost murmured, voice dropped low. Calming. Tactical. “This is your hour, after all.”
Will peered between his empty glass and the man sat before him, crossed legs, a smile threatening to spread onto his lips. A cat who hadn’t quite gotten the cream yet, but knew it was coming. Will shifted in his seat and sighed, scraping a hand down his face, “What are you suggesting?”
They both knew exactly what Hannibal was suggesting.
“I am simply suggesting,” Hannibal reached a hand over to the small table next to his chair, exchanging the glass of wine for a small box. A box Will hadn’t even noticed until now. God, he was exhausted. “That we attempt one of those techniques, Dear Will. Stress and pent up emotions are bad for us, both physically and mentally. You don’t look like you’ve slept in days.” He frowned.
The other man chuckled shortly, putting his own glass down. “What’s in the box?” Will couldn’t help his natural curiosity. How could he? The box looked expensive, even if it was just plain. Of course Hannibal would have an expensive box.
A small, coy smirk spread onto Hannibal’s lips. “Why don’t you come and take a look, Will?” Hannibal offered, slowly removing the lid. The angle and their distance made it almost impossible to see what was inside the box without standing. Typical Hannibal. Now, Will couldn’t deny his curiosity. So, likely beyond his better judgement, Will stood up and made his way over to the chair.
He stood before Hannibal and peered down into the box, a frustrated expression on his face when he saw nothing but a velvet bag. The older man chuckled, as if endlessly amused by Will and his expression, and pulled out the bag. He opened it, much too slowly for Will’s liking.
“Masturbation is an excellent method of stress relief,” Hannibal hummed, peering up at Will through light eyelashes as he pulled something free from the bag. A sleek, black…prostate massager. “Perhaps a little unorthodox, but if you refuse to make time for yourself, then I suppose it’s in my best interest to make the time for you. As your therapist. As your friend.”
A prostate massager.
Will swallowed, ignoring the curious twitch his cock gave.
“You aren’t seriously-“ Will blinked, hoping that the colour on his cheeks wasn’t as obvious as it felt. “This is very unorthodox. What would Jack think?”
“You aren’t going to tell him, dear Will. Have you ever had a prostate orgasm?”
“N-No.” Will stuttered quickly. The more he looked at it, the more his cock began to fill out in his pants. He was a little drunk, and it had been so long since he’d had a wank.
Hannibal could see the cogs turning in the younger man’s brain. He’d agree to it, Hannibal was confident. Will was more pent up than anyone he knew, refusing to give himself any free time to relax, god forbid. Hannibal was simply being a good friend, yes, that was all. “There are studies that show that they’re quite excellent for your health.” Hannibal popped the toy bag into its bag before handing it to Will. “You’ll find a bottle of lubricant on the bathroom counter. Gloves, if you prefer.”
Will snatched up the bag and scowled at Hannibal. The Doctor wasn’t going to let this die, Will knew that. He would poke and prod until Will finally gave in, but he simply didn’t have the energy for that.
So, beyond everyone’s better judgement, Will marched himself into the bathroom and slammed the door. The light was already on, always a comforting warmth compared to public restrooms, the smell was much better, too. Hannibal had recently lit a candle and blown it out before Will had arrived, the lingering woodsy scents making the man’s shoulders drop slightly.
This was fucking insane.
Will placed the bag down and began undoing his belt, eyes landing on the bottle of lube and box of gloves Hannibal had mentioned. He snapped on a pair and went back to his task.
Was what Hannibal had said true? Were they good for you? Will wished that he’d had his phone so he could look it up. Call the man out on his bullshit. His trousers fell to the floor with a soft thud, cool air suddenly hitting his legs. He was glad Hannibal didn’t have a mirror in the bathroom, Will doubted he could look at himself like this.
What was he doing?
Uncapping the bottle of lube.
Was he really going to do this?
Will’s foot was propped up on the toilet before he could answer his own question. It had been a long time since he’d touched his own ass, even longer since anyone else had touched him in general. He simply…didn’t have the time. Jack worked him like a dog. He never slept. His students kept him just as busy. Will huffed as he slowly smeared the lube around, unceremoniously shoving one finger inside. He stopped himself from wondering how Hannibal would do this. How the man would open him up slowly, no doubt purring pretty things into his ears. Would he wear gloves like Will? He had to admit, he kinda liked how it felt.
Clinical, in a sexy way.
Two fingers became one, and Will’s thoughts sped up tenfold. What did this make them? Was this wrong? He knew it was wrong, obviously. Duh. But was it wrong for them? Will wasn’t sure. The lines between doctor/patient, friend/morethanfriends, it all blurred. If anyone looked at Will and Hannibal together, they would just be one fuzzy blob.
Will bit his lip, quickly thrusting his fingers until his neglected hole became less resistant. As soon as he was loose enough, Will pulled his fingers out and used his clean hand to open up the bag, pulling out the toy. Without care and grace, Will shoved the massager inside himself, grunting lowly.
With the toy nestled where it needed to be, Will pulled off the gloves, tossed them in the bin and pulled his pants back up. He wished there was a mirror in front of him. He so desperately wanted to know if he looked…changed. If he looked as flushed as he felt. He swallowed thickly, hands twitching at his side. Should he wash his hands? No.
He couldn’t really feel the toy inside himself until he moved, face scrunching up at the odd feeling of something moving inside him. It was rather alien. He’d used his own fingers before, but he’d never ventured towards toys of any sorts.
Will pulled open the bathroom door, ready to face whatever Hell awaited him.
“N-Now what?” His shaky voice broke the silence, much more pathetic sounding than he had planned on it sounding.
Hannibal smiled at him, grin cat-like. Pleased. Smug bastard had gotten what he’d wanted. Will wanted to slam the door and hide in the bathroom until the hour was over. “Come, sit.” Will began walking towards his own seat, stopping in his tracks when Hannibal held up his hand. “No, Will. Come and sit here.”
Will didn’t have time to be mortified, his legs carrying him across the room before his thoughts could catch up. No. He couldn’t do this. Nononope. Will stood before Hannibal, watching the man pat his lap gently, inviting Will like he was a little kitten.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Therapeutic methods can sometimes seem that way, yes.” Hannibal tilted his head, casting his dark eyes between his lap and Will. He wasn’t going to ask again, not that he had actually asked in the first place. He was simply going to…wait.
Wait until Will chose the right path. Will wasn’t sure that he had the energy to argue. Perhaps, if he simply did what Hannibal wanted, this whole thing would be over much quicker. So, in an attempt to please Hannibal, and for no other reason, Will slowly straddled Hannibal’s lap, sinking down until their bodies were flush. It didn’t feel real. Surely, he wasn’t doing this, right? It was a dream. It had to be. One of Will’s feverish, sweaty dreams where he’d wake up covered in a sheen of sweat.
The sudden buzzing broke through Will’s pleas. It was not a dream.
“What the-!” Will gasped, thighs spasming as his eyes went wide. He should’ve suspected that Hannibal had another trick up his sleeve, that the toy wasn’t a simple plug. He swallowed thickly, a peachy hue covering his cheeks suddenly. Will looked down to see a small remote in Hannibal’s hand, the man’s thumb over a button.
“Vibrators aren’t just enjoyable for those with vaginas.” Hannibal murmured, voice far too low and sultry for such…clinical talk. “There have been plenty of studies and accounts of people with prostates and penises finding enjoyment with such toys. Massagers. Rings. It’s a completely different type of orgasm.”
Will found it difficult to concentrate, even with the low intensity of the vibrations. He found it even harder when Hannibal turned it up, cock throbbing as his hole spasmed around the toy. The man’s usage of correct terminology only made him feel more flustered, squirming slightly. He could feel himself leaking into his pants, surely leaving a wet patch. He didn’t want to look. He couldn’t look. All he could do was moan weakly, brows pinching tightly.
“Relax.” Hannibal whispered, finding Will’s concentrated expression less than pleasing. “I want you to relax, Will. Deep breath. Let that tension go.”
“I-I’ll relax when you just…just say cock.” Will bit back, talking through clenched teeth.
Hannibal turned up the vibrations again, making Will’s hips jump, a strangled moan escaping him. Clearly, Hannibal hadn’t appreciated his lewd comment.
Will’s hands balled into fists. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know why he was doing this. Why he’d agreed. Why he hadn’t just fled. He was a grown man. He could’ve driven himself home. And yet, he’d ended up right where Hannibal wanted him. Pleasure buzzed deep inside Will, much deeper than he had ever experienced, making his hips twitch and buck involuntarily. He so rarely shared his pleasures with anyone else, unsure what to do with himself as the wonderful feeling built inside.
Without needing to ask, Hannibal guided Will’s hand up to his shoulders. “No need to ball your fists, Will. Unclench. Relax. Take a deep breath.”
The younger man clenched his teeth. He wanted to argue. So bad. But, when he shifted and the toy pressed firmer against his prostate, Will’s mind suddenly went black. A few seconds later, he took a deep, shaky breath, thighs trembling slightly.
Hannibal kept the toy at a steady intensity for a handful of minutes, watching the clock behind Will tick by. They had half an hour, and if he wanted to do everything he’d planned, he’d have to work Will along a little faster. A shame, really. An hour just wasn’t long enough. When a full five minutes had passed, Hannibal pressed another button on his remote, the vibrations spiking another two levels.
Will cried out.
His head was tossed back, arms wrapping around Hannibal’s neck. Eyes squeezed shut.
So easily come undone. Hannibal was pleased, Will had exceeded all of his imagined expectations.
The younger man’s hips rolled forward, cock hard and leaking in his pants, a wet patch embarrassingly displayed on the fabric. A long, equally embarrassing whine escaped Will’s mouth as his eyes fluttered open. “Y-You aren’t…You aren’t hard?” His voice sounded worried, strained, concerned that Hannibal wasn’t enjoying this as much as Will clearly was.
“Some of us, dear Will, have control.” Hannibal replied in a husky rasp, dark eyes colliding with Will pleasure stricken blues. He looked gorgeous like this. Hannibal blinked slowly, capturing the raw expression on Will’s face, tucking it away for later. “Tell me, how do you feel?”
Will huffed out a laugh, feeling his hole flutter around the toy, buzzing harder against his prostate. It took him a moment to even find words, let alone speak. “I…I feel…”
“Good?”
“Y-Yes.” Will nodded, fingers digging into Hannibal’s suit jacket. How did the man look so calm and collected? Not a hair out of place. And Will? He didn’t even want to know what he looked like.
“We’re almost at the most intense setting.” Hannibal hummed, running his hand slowly down Will’s back. It’s the most he’s touched him this whole session, and it makes Will cry out softly. So sensitive. “You are doing incredible.”
Praise. Will loved praise. It made him whine and squirm, his brain going fuzzy as he leaked further into his pants. He wasn’t going to last another five minutes. Will wasn’t quite sure how long they had been going, but he knew it wasn’t long. How fucking embarrassing. It just felt so good. The way the toy pressed against his prostate and the feeling of his cock rubbing against his pants. The rich, deep scent of Hannibal’s cologne adding to it all, his natural scent barely hiding. It was nothing like Will’s aftershave.
Long, strong fingers snaked their way into Will’s slightly damp curls. “A-Ah~!” Will gasped and whimpered as his hair was tugged, head pulled back. Forced to look at Hannibal, unable to look away or hide his blushing face.
“I can feel how close you are.” Hannibal hummed, taking in a deep breath. He could smell it, too. The height of Will’s arousal was something Hannibal wished to bottle. Sweet and earthy, like a spring picnic in the deep woods. “Don’t hold on, Will. Let yourself fall off that edge you so desperately want to stay on.” The man encouraged, staring into Will’s eyes.
Still soft.
Still unbothered.
Nothing like the messy state Will was in.
Will whined loudly, mouth hung open to let out an uncontrolled string of moans and gasps. He couldn’t stop himself. He knew he’d be embarrassed about it later. That he’d wash away the stupid feeling with a big glass of whiskey that night. But now, barrelling towards an orgasm, Will couldn’t care less how loud he was. The vibrations spiked a final time and Will’s vision whited out, mind going completely blank for the first time in years.
Well, almost.
Only the thought of Hannibal remained.
A loud cry fell from Will’s bitten lips as he began coming in his pants, rope after rope wetting the fabric even more. His hands gripped at Hannibal’s suit jacket violently, knuckles white, body trembling. His stretched, puffy hole clenched and spasmed around the toy inside him, sending violent sparks of pleasure through his body that made his eyes roll back into his head. It felt so good…that he didn’t even notice Hannibal and turned off the toy and had started opening his belt.
“Wh-Mmmh!” Willy’s questioning was cut off by another breathy moan. He’d never had an orgasm last so long. His brain felt as though it was melting and pouring from his ears.
Then, his cock was exposed, still hard and flushed.
“Look at all that mess.” Hannibal tutted, shaking his head. “You’ve absolutely ruined your trousers, young man.”
Hannibal’s voice was sultry and wonderfully mocking, a truly disappointed tone hugging his words. Degrading. Will whimpered, looking down through heavy lashes at his come-covered cock and messy underwear. He had ruined his trousers.
“You’re a mess.” The man continued, large, smooth hand wrapping around Will’s oversensitive cock. Will’s strangled cry was music to Hannibal’s ears, sweeter than any symphony he’d had the pleasure of experiencing. Hannibal had imagined it many times before, but nothing could compare to the true sound. Tears sprung in Will’s eyes and Hannibal’s heart soared, hand pumping that beautifully overwhelmed cock. “Hush, there’s no need for tears.”
Will whined loudly, blinking the tears from his eyes, feeling his cheeks turn damp. “Th-That hurts. Please- I-I’m too sensitive-“ he pleaded, voice strung out and, frankly, pathetic.
Hannibal shook his head, his hand coming to rest on Will’s hip. Holding him in place. “Whilst overwhelming at the time, sexual overstimulation and multiple orgasms can aid in relaxation. You’ll feel wonderful if you just allow me to continue.”
Another firm, fast stroke. Up and down. Up and down. Will whined, panting heavily.
“After all, which one of us knows best?”
He sped up his hand again, obscenely wet sounds filling the space between them. Will squirmed, heart pounding loudly in his chest and ears, cock leaking into Hannibal’s hand. It was so much. Will had never done this to himself. He barely had the time and energy to come once, let alone work himself over again. Another tear fell. His hips bucked. He squirmed and whimpered, but didn’t reply.
“Which one of us knows best, Will?”
“Y-You!” Will cried back quickly, his brain finally catching up. He fucked into Hannibal’s hand quickly, feeling as though he was drooling.
The hand on his hips grew firmer. “You are moving far too much, Will. Your lack of self control isn’t surprising, but it’s disappointing. Something we will have to work on, don’t you agree?”
Will just nodded. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment, not that he could exactly string together a coherent sentence anyway. He did his very best to stay still as Hannibal stroked him with unbelievable speed and perfect pressure, balls drawing up close to his body. Was he going to come again? Could he come again?
Will wasn’t sure he had any other choice.
His toes curled painfully tight in his shoes, knuckles whiting out again. Will hid his face in Hannibal’s neck, and the man allowed it. He allowed Will to pant hotly against his neck, to breathe in his scent and find safety in Hannibal’s body. The sweet, writhing thing went completely stiff as his orgasm struck him right in the gut, pleasure bolting through him so intensely that he couldn’t help but scream. Hot, thick ropes of come coated Hannibal’s hand as the man continued to pump him through it, working him through his second orgasm. Will sobbed, bucking his hips, fucking Hannibal’s hand until the painful pleasure grew too strong.
“P-Please!” Will croaked, attempting to pull his hips away.
Begrudgingly, Hannibal pulled his hand away from Will’s cock, humming softly. “Very good…” he praised in a gentle purr. He wanted to reach out and brush the hair from Will’s face, but he didn’t. Instead, he simply enjoyed the wrecked, drunken look on the younger man’s face. He watched intently as Will lazily licked the drool from his lips, head lolled back and pulled away from his neck. “You did so well, Will. You made such a terrible mess, but you did such a good job. Tell me, how do you feel?”
“Like…” Will took a deep breath, collecting himself. “Like someone took all my bones and all my bad thoughts.” He mumbled, slowly unfolding himself, getting to his feet.
Hannibal stood with him, their bodies close. Will’s pants hung open, but he didn’t feel particularly inclined to close them just yet.
“I am going to fetch a damp flannel to clean you up with.” Hannibal informed him quietly, briskly walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. With his newly gained privacy, Hannibal brought his hand to his face and took a deep, indulgent breath. His tongue flicked out, licking Will’s spend from his flesh, savouring each flavour that melted onto his tongue. Will tasted divine. Two fingers slid onto Hannibal’s tongue, making sure that not a single drop nor smear was wasted. Flavours as decadent as Will were made to be enjoyed thoroughly.
~~
Will blinked, his breath returning to him in the solitude of Hannibal’s office. He tucked his cock back into his pants, whimpering softly at the feeling of the mess he’d made. The terrible mess he’d made. He could hear the tap running in the bathroom, the water no doubt being heated nicely. Hannibal was a gentleman, even when he was feigning professionality. He wouldn’t dare wipe Will down with a cold flannel, Will bet he would sooner rather walk into oncoming traffic.
What was Will doing there?
His hour was up.
His hour had finished ten minutes ago.
What was he waiting for? For Hannibal to come and clean him up, send him on his way? Will looked between the bathroom door and the chair, black remote staring back at him.
Will swiped it up and shoved it into his pocket before making a b-line for the door. He grabbed his coat and his bag on the way, not even bothering to pull his jacket on before he was jogging out the door and down the stairs, hurrying to his car before Hannibal could come out of the bathroom. He wasn’t sure he could handle it. Perhaps he would have to find a new therapist. Would Jack put up with that? Would he take the time to find someone else for Will, or simply give up?
He had found safety and comfort in their sessions, believe it or not. Will tended not to trust or grow comfortable with people, but he couldn’t ignore that growing feelings of fondness he felt towards Hannibal and their time shared together. Perhaps it was the constant colds and headaches making him softer, Will couldn’t tell. Now, he just wanted to go home. He wanted to hide away from the reality of what had just happened.
The conversations that would no doubt follow.
The escalation of intimacy.
As Will pulled out of the parking lot, he tried not to imagine the hurt look on Hannibal’s face when he realised the man had fled. He tried not to imagine Hannibal standing alone in his office, flannel clenched to his chest as he breathed in the lingering scents of Will and his passions. The way Hannibal’s eyes would drift closed, and the older man would wonder if perhaps he had gone too far.
Though, Hannibal knew it was only the first step in the right direction. Soon, he would have Will completely.
Truly.
Madly.
Deeply.