The Main Course

by Sandro_Botecelli, Starling_multi

Summary:

A lavish dinner party hosted by Dr. Lecter ends rather abruptly when a bold Will Graham bites off more than he can chew.

Chapter 1

Fly-fishing, spending time with his dogs, staring down the barrel of god's most creatively gruesome crime scene creation. Those are the things that Will Graham would rather be doing on a Friday evening. Instead, he sits in the middle of a table, surrounded by the highest society, most cultured folk that Baltimore, Maryland has to offer.

Orchestral symphonies that Will has no hope of recognizing play in the background, harmonizing with the chatter of esteemed conversation and cutlery softly clanging. His only anchor of familiarity in a sea of aristocracy is his colleague, Jack Crawford in front of him and his psychiatrist, Hannibal Lecter to his left. Will resents the idea that he's being babysat, residing close to Hannibal for supervision purposes

Lavish dishes line the table, each one more uniquely unappetizing than the last for him. The sight of them makes his stomach turn, and he considers if he can blink in morse code at Beverly Katz a few seats down, signalling for her to leave and get some fast food to eat. He eyes the red liquid swirling around in his almost-empty wineglass and wonders how many more he'll need to tolerate the meal.

“Not used to the display?” Jack Crawford teases from across the table with a smile, “I will admit, his dinner parties are quite exotic.”

“That's one way to describe this.” Will jokes to himself, finishing his glass and catching a short-lived grin out of Jack Crawford before a pair of fists hit the table with aggression.

“You'd consider yourself lucky to be sat at this table,” An older woman huffs at Will, her dangly pearl earrings trembling under her sudden upset. “Hannibal slaves away creating art for this, it'd be better to keep any wise comments to yourself If you're too dense to understand it.”

Under the unsettlingly quiet blanket of tension that has fallen over the table, her eyes search frantically for Hannibal's in pursuit of approval. Will's eyes stay glued down to the plate in front of him, which is suddenly more easy to look at now. Everyone at the table has stopped eating but Hannibal, who finishes his bite and dabs his lips with an embroidered maroon napkin.

“To appreciate art is to experience it, not to understand.” Hannibal retaliates sharply, “An experience I can't imagine inviting you to again if you continue insulting my guests this way, Miriam.”

A beat passes. The music swells again as a new symphony begins to play, accompanied by another pair of older ladies gushing at Hannibal's refined music taste, and the conversation roars again. Glasses touch lips, forks touch plates and the meal resumes as normal. The only thing that hasn't returned to normal is the blood in Will's cheeks, a strange feeling hanging in his chest. Will struggles to identify this feeling, a halfway point between embarrassment and gratitude. A caterer leans in on his left, refilling his wine glass with liquid that is more expensive than anything he's wearing right now. Just as he turns to Hannibal to smooth things over from the abrupt confrontation, Jimmy Price leans in from down the table.

“For the record, exotic is a good way to describe it.” He says, poking fun at his coworker's underdeveloped taste, “Especially for those who didn't get through grade school French like you, Will.”

“Take it easy Jimmy,” Will laughs, accompanied by Jack's hearty chuckle across the table, but not Hannibals. “I can enjoy a meal without knowing how to say it in English.” He puts a sizeable amount in his mouth, tasting it for the first time this evening. The savoury taste swirls on his tongue, his teeth roughly carving through the oddly tough consistency.

“Can you eat it without knowing what langue d'agneau en papillotes means?” Jimmy quips back, waiting for the bite to settle on Will's tongue. “It's lamb's tongue.”

With that, Will chokes on the bite, his hand coming up abruptly to cover his mouth. Jack's hearty chuckle turns into a roar, a contagious laugh that spreads across the table. Will squeezes his eyes shut, using every ounce of strength to push it down his esophagus. Flushing it down with the whole glass of red wine in front of him, he prays that the single morsel of lamb tongue sitting in his stomach will stave off any drunken comments that might ensue as a result of it.

Will continues the banter with his colleagues, trying to coax that same drunken laughter out of Jack again, searching for something to tease him with at the office. With a tipsy grin plastered across his face, he catches a glimpse of the cold gaze waiting for him and he feels the smile slide away. Hannibal's eyes sat low, unblinking and peering deep past his eyes and into his soul. His bitter expression was undetectable to the rest of the table, an isolated moment for him and Will only.

Throat clenched, Will focuses his attention on trying to partake in the conversation at the rest of the table, smiling and nodding and willing the blood that has accumulated in his cheeks down into the rest of his bloodstream. The ridiculous feeling of anticipating discipline accumulates in his body, and he can't help but glance back at the man next to him. Darting his eyes back, he unexpectedly finds himself matching Hannibal's gaze. Dr. Lecter is a more appropriate term in a moment like this, where Will feels himself being psychologically undressed, dissected, and displayed out. If the feeling was confined to this moment, perhaps it would be bearable. But each time Will Graham glanced over to Hannibal Lecter, there was a cold gaze waiting to dismember him some more. Will is wounded prey waiting in an open clearing, knowing in his gut his only option left is to accept.

Hannibal lifts his arm to wave a caterer over, whispering for him to clear the table for the guests. “I'd appreciate presenting the next course by myself, thank you.” There are not enough words in the dictionary to express what the low rumble of Dr. Lecter's voice does to Will in that moment. He clears his throat, preparing to address the table.

“I can't thank you enough for joining me in this course,” Hannibal smiles, buttoning his jacket with one hand and gently cradling Will's shoulder with the other. “I believe Will is going to help me bring dessert next.”

Will obediently leaves his seat, feeling like a lamb led to the slaughter. A fuzzy feeling is radiating from the place Hannibal touched him, and he can't tell if it's the physical contact or the whole glass of wine impeding his balance while he walks. He follows the taller man down the dimly lit hall, basking in the sweet scent of expensive cologne that Dr. Lecter leaves in his wake.

“I hope you don't mind helping me with this next part, Will” He says, smiling over his shoulder, “However, your appreciation may be improved for the art of preparing a meal afterward.”

Will giggles as they step into the warm lighting of Hannibal's kitchen. A sea of dishes with meticulously plated ricotta cheese melted across figs and chocolate shavings awaits him on the counter.

“Are we going to carry all these out there ourselves?” Will whines, with the drunken haze stopping him from realizing how spoiled he sounds.

“Not quite yet.” Hannibal says with a hand out, ushering Will to the counter and handing him a small container of honey with a metal dripper. “They're not finished plating.”

“Figs and chocolate are an aphrodisiac, Dr. Lecter.” Will teases, “This is definitely more to my tastes than the other courses”

A small giggle escapes Hannibal, as he picks up a matching container, and joins the younger man behind the counter. Will can feel Hannibal's warmth next to him, causing a tightening sensation in his stomach. The older man begins to garnish the dishes, drizzling honey atop the dish in extravagant patterns. Will is hypnotized by his practiced hands, and tries to mimic his culinary expertise, but ends up placing honey down with a plop on the side of the dish.

“Apparently you are as familiar with this as you are with any of the dishes I served tonight.” Hannibal laughs, reaching over to quickly, yet expertly correct his mistake. “I thought you said this would be more your to your taste, Will.”

“With the amount of internal organs on the table, I'm beginning to question your taste as well, Dr. Lecter.” Will retorts, also snickering at his mistake. “Next thing I know I'll be on the menu.”

“I can assure you, if Will Graham was on the menu, there's no way I would have invited this many people.” Hannibal smirks, finishing off the last of the plates and leaning into Will's ear “I'd much prefer to have you all to myself.”

With that, the container slips out of Will's trembling hands and crashes down onto the counter, spilling golden liquid across the marble. By the time he can process what has happened and begin formulating an apology, Hannibal is already beginning to clean up the mess he's made. Will has never seen anybody wipe up a spill with such a content look on their face, seeming utterly satisfied with the effect his words have had on Will.

“Open your mouth.” Hannibal instructs, cleaning up the last drop on the counter with his middle finger. Instantly, Will's lips part, his heart pounds, and his tongue wags out of his mouth. Searing eye contact is held when the man in front of him slowly places his finger on the centre of his tongue, and the taste of honey spreads across his taste buds. “Wouldn't want it to go to entirely to waste.”

Will stands, mouth still agape and cheeks still flushed when Dr. Lecter begins to skillfully stack plates on his arms, and nods Will to do the same. Will's head is still spinning when the older man is already sauntering down the hall on his way back to the party, and his hands grip the counter for stability. Three deep breaths later, Will is ready to rejoin the party; And give Dr. Lecter a taste of his own medicine.

Chapter 2

Although Dr. Lecter and Will are physically seated in the room again, it is abundantly clear that only one of them is reallythere. The ever-composed Hannibal Lecter is seemingly undisturbed by the pair's previous kitchen encounter. Sipping on wine, commenting on the year-end quotas of the FBI as if his sleek black pants aren't getting tighter around him by the second. Will's still-red cheeks and stunted breathing better resemble that of a marathon runner than a man who's been seated for fifteen minutes. He remains silent, hoping the rest of the dinner guests determine the cause of flushing on his face to be the expensive wine they've been sipping all night.

“I'd consider the psychiatry department at the FBI,” Hannibal comments, “But I think my efforts are better preserved to the everyday Baltimore resident's anxieties; Much less work that way.”

“Evidently not if you're Jimmy,” Jack Crawford chimes in, poking fun at his colleague down the table, “I've never seen someone take longer to process reports!”

“Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?” Alana bloom adds, giggling through her next sip of wine.

“Not just you, Alana” Will adds slyly, maintaining eye contact with his old flame and pulling a skillful hand up his chest.

He uses his thumb to gently push his top button open, and for anyone careful enough to notice, makes sure to do so excruciatingly slowly. Evidently, Alana bloom is part of this audience, licking her lips at the sight of him, averting her gaze to the visual aphrodisiacs plated in front of her. Will is keen enough to notice this, and playful enough to engage with her by sliding his hands down to the second button on his shirt. What he is not observant enough to notice right away, is the older man to his left. He ogles Will's hands with low eyes, and a jaw clenched so tightly you'd think his teeth would crumble beneath the force. It is at this moment that Will's gaze moves to the side, falling on Hannibal's hands white-knuckling the arms of his chair.

“You feeling okay?” Jack Crawford asks, feigning concern, “I think somebody hasn't had enough to drink yet.”

“I couldn't be better.” Hannibal responds with a practiced smile, maintaining his tight grip on his chair, “However, now that you mention it I have noticed a particular thirst for more wine.”

As if he couldn't get enough of the reaction he was taunting out of Hannibal, Will shifts his weight towards him. Using the end of his foot, he slowly grazes up and down Hannibals leg. A smile creeps out of Will, a satisfied knowing that he's impacted Hannibal beneath the appearance his person-suit would show. He sees Hannibals now-relaxed grip on his chair, noting the non-verbal communication as a playful challenge. Hannibal doesn't think that Will can get to him. Will knows he's wrong. Dipping the end of his foot up under his pant leg, Will begins teasing the bare skin beneath. He's just about to confidently drag his hand up Hannibal's thigh, when he pulls away sharply, readjusting himself in his seat away from Will's touch. For the first time in a long time, Will has just misinterpreted the evidence. How mortifying.

“Will, do you need a ride home?” Alana bloom chimes in and breaks Will's focus with a sultry smile, communicating more than her words say. “Not that I'm in any more position to drive, but I'd love to see the dogs.”

“Who knows what you'd get up to there,” The ever-bold Beverly Katz whispers to into Will, “Everyone at the table knows that she doesn't just want to see the dogs.”

“Maybe everyone at the table is right” Will retorts with a smile, and looking back to Alana, “I'd love nothing more, although I'd never let you drive home in this weather, Dr. Bloom. There's always a warm bed for you to stay in, if you're up for it.”

“If you keep being polite like that Will, maybe I won't make you take the dog bed.” Alana jokes, sharing a moment in time with Will, with the company of a giggling audience around the table.

Will is about to respond, when he feels something on his leg. A strong hand sprawls across his thigh, inching up slightly before digging fingers in with a forceful grip. This was not a playful hand inching up his thigh, this was a warning. Will's investigative instincts scream at him that this is a punishment, but his curiosity gets the better of him. Will's physical focus may be on Alana, but his brain is swirling with thoughts of what Dr. Lecter is going to do to him. The tantalizing thought of being intimate with her pales in comparison to begging for mercy from Hannibal. Will's train of thought is abruptly halted when Dr. Lecter suddenly rises from his seat.

“I'd like to thank you all for coming, and enjoying this experience with me” He says, raising his glass, “but all good things must come to an end. Have a lovely evening.”

Sparse applause from the dinner guests while chatter about the impeccable quality of the food, stumbling out of their chairs while catering staff clear a sea of empty wineglasses. People are putting their coats on, and doting over their host. Will's co-workers are still seated, and he ponders whether it's because they were too busy giggling to hear Hannibal or are biding their time until they can stand up straight to make it out the door. Will anxiously bounces his leg, and feels his throat tighten when he realizes can still feel the large imprint of Dr. Lecters strong grip on his thigh. He determines that probably won't be the only mark of Dr. Lecter's he'll be left with tonight.

“Are you ready for a ride, handsome?” Dr. Bloom asks while still seated, leaning in towards him with a facial expression of pure desire. Her breathing is almost as heavy as his, and her lips part to take a deep breath in while she searches Will's face for an answer.

Will Graham, filled with more craving and lust than he knows what to do with, bows in towards Alana. Drunken delusion isn't what's taking him so long to respond. He is scrambling to gather his thoughts to push one coherent sentence through his teeth that isn't a series of vulgar noises. Just as he is about to respond, he feels a familiar hand sprawl across, then dig deep into his left shoulder. He is discretely, but forcefully, sat back down in his chair with expert pressure.

“Will has other plans for the evening, but if you could stop by to feed his dogs in the morning he'd greatly appreciate it.”

Alana looks confused at first, but then suddenly averts her gaze shyly, and the remainder of the Baltimore Police Department understand the cue to take their leave now. Wills eyes are glued to the placemat in front of him, mostly to stop the others from seeing the prettiest shade of red across his cheeks, but partially because he can't do much else with the volume of obscene thoughts swirling around his mind. This shields him from the further embarrassment of his entire team of coworkers trying not to laugh as they gather up their things to leave the room.

“Looks like you owe me $5 about where he'd end up tonight” Beverly whispers to Jack, with a satisfied smile so big you can practically hear it in her voice. Jack grumbles in response as they all exit the dining room.

“And then there were two.” Will whispers, barely audible through the gentle hum of chatter in the next room and orchestral music gushing from the speakers. Luckily, barely audible is still audible to the man standing over him, who is carefully drawing his fingers up ever-so-slowly from will's shoulder, across his collarbone, to wrap around base of his neck. “I guess that's my cue to head out and let you enjoy your night”

“Not a chance,” Hannibal growls into his ear, tightening his grip around the younger man's neck, enough to feel his quickened pulse against his fingers. Will lets a small whimper escape only once he's heard the front door click and the final guest leave for the last time. “When was the last time you saw a gazelle stroll out of the lion's den unscathed?”

Chapter 3

Will fidgets with his button-up impatiently while Dr. Lecter clatters around the kitchen. He had been sitting at the head of the dining table for twenty minutes now, stewing in his own fervour. It's not like he could ever pull back the curtain and peer into Hannibal's complex mind, but why on earth would he leave him here like this, after winding him up so tightly. He grinds his teeth unconsciously, tugging at his pants where the heart of his frustration lies. This is exactly what he wants. Scoffing at his own realization, an exasperated Will leans forward in his chair to place his head in his hands. His therapist had just ended the most lavish dinner party he's ever attended just to make him squirm? Diabolical. 

If these are the games he wants to play, Hannibal had better learn that Will can play too. Shuffling his phone out of his pocket, Will fidgets with the smooth metal in his hands while mulling over his limited options. He could sit here and wait like a good, patient toy for Dr. Lecter's amusement or make one call to Alana and take care of this heat elsewhere. Hannibal can't really expect him to wait forever like this, no matter how hot it would make him to see this through. Opening his phone, a satisfied Will dials Alanas number- too familiar to his drunken fingers that have placed this call on more than one occasion. He usually rang after a feverish nightmare or one-too many scotches after pondering a particularly stubborn case, but being edged by a sadistic dinner party host was as good a reason as any. The phone begins to ring. Once, twice. Then she picks up.

"How did I know you'd call?" She purrs into the phone.

"You said that the last time," Will chuckles, eyeing the rather late hour on his wristwatch, "How soon could you be at back at Dr. Lecter's place?"

"Twenty minutes, but with this traffic it'll be an extra hour before we even get back to your house" Alana whines through the commotion of car horns outside.

"Who says we need to be at my place?" Will teases "Back of a car has always been good enough for me."

"My seats do go pretty far back, now that you mention it.." Alana pauses, "Just say the word, and I'll come."

Before Will can respond, Hannibal has stealthily crept up behind WIll's chair  and places a strong hand over his lips. His grip is gentle but firm, and without a word spoken Will knows that those fingers are not happy that he's called Alana to take care of the brewing heat inside him that Hannibal had worked so hard to carefully cultivate. With a playful arrogance, Hannibal ends the phone call in the middle of her pregnant pause. A drunken night with his skin against Alana's was always a wild ride, but not one Will would be taking tonight; Even for the price of a resentful glare or two next time their paths crossed. Shifting in his chair to face Dr. Lecter, Will stares up at him through his eyebrows with an extra-charming blue gaze. His stare is one of playful smugness, a bait carefully set out for Hannibal to take in his teeth. 

"That was quite rude" Will pokes with a soft grin, "I was having a pleasant conversation."

"On the contrary," Hannibal smiles back politely, "Calling poor Alana with a fraudulent promise of sex is the larger offence here." 

"Who says it was.." Will palms his phone again, tempting the older man's patience, "Fraudulent?"

"Careful now," Hannibal taunts, watching Will press her number into his phone,"You might just get what you wish for." 

"Do your worst." He chuckles, as the phone begins to ring. Once, Twice. 

In a flash, Dr. Lecter has dragged him out of the seat by his hair and onto the ground beneath him. Will's cheeks flush with heat as he finds himself kneeling at his, gazing up at  his slender, muscular frame. He has never handled Will so roughly like this, always gentle and calculated in their limited encounters. One hand still tightly wrapped around his shaggy locks, the other producing a piece of silk fabric from his coat pocket.  It's black and smooth, and warm to the touch with his body heat when placed over his eyes. A shiver of excitement drags down Will's spine, the tantalizing prospect of an enjoyable punishment dangling in front of him. 

The clinking sound of Hannibal's belt rings out, audible through Will's ragged breathing. That belt, made of fine Italian leather, makes Will's mind run feverishly. With his sense of sight deprived, he conjures up fantasies of a gag between his teeth, a cuff for his shaking hands, or a tool to redden his ass. To the defeat of Will's imagination, the belt is softly set on a table. Will reaches his hands forward, landing on Hannibal's firm thighs. He glides them up his trousers, feeling the muscle definition beneath the fabric. Hannibal sucks through his teeth as his wandering hands grab at his warm inner thighs. To Will's surprise, once again, he grabs him by his wrists and tuts as he guides his grip away from his thighs. Dr. Lecter is clearly not done playing with him yet.

Hannibal places a warm hand beneath his chin, gliding his thumb over Will's bottom lip. Encouraging his mouth to open, he slides his thumb into Will's mouth. The sweet flavour twirls over his tongue, surprising but familiar. The fresh honey draped overtop of dessert was unmistakable. Will takes this moment to suck on Hannibal’s thumb, pulling it into his mouth. He runs his tongue over the pad, then around his nail, savouring all the details with his mouth. Saliva pools as will sucks Hannibal’s thumb deeper and deeper into his wanting mouth. 

Hannibal slides his thumb out, much to Will’s dismay. 

Blinded by the soft silk, Will opens his mouth for Hannibal’s easy access. Allowing the older man to do as he wish. Hannibal traces the gentle curve of Will’s pink lips, watching as the younger man blushes at his delicate touch. 

Still holding his curls, Hannibal tightens his grip much Will’s surprise. The harsh abruptness leaves Will panting with his mouth hanging open. Will can feel Hannibal’s posture change as he leans down to whisper in his ear “How far are you prepared to go dear Will?”

Will swallows hard and feels the bulge in his pants, long forgotten, start to pulse with wanting. Gathering the nerve, Will replies. 

“As far as you’ll take me Dr. Lecter,” 

Hannibal wastes no time and shoves his middle and index fingers into Will’s mouth. “Suck.” Hannibal growls into Will’s ear. And does he ever. 

Practically debasing himself on Hannibal’s skilled fingers, Will feels drool falling down his chin. Similarly, he feels precum as it leaks from his aching dick. He can only begin to wonder what Hannibal is feeling in this moment, hoping he soon finds out. 

Hannibal pulls his fingers away, leaving Will gasping at the foot of Hannibal’s dining table. Waiting for the next thing, Will obediently leaves his lips parted ever so slightly. He knows how he must look, flushed and depraved, wet lips red leading to a hungry mouth. 

Hannibal’s hand falls from the back of Will’s head. A shuffling of fabric piques Will’s curiosity and nerves. Will’s hand falls to his own lap, palming at his desperate cock. He feels Hannibal’s socked foot nudge his hand away, and allows it to fall back to the carpet with a soft groan. 

The warm hand returns to Will’s crown, a comfort he didn’t know he needed. Gently, Hannibal leads Will forward until something hot and smooth touches his lips. The noise that escapes Will’s lips coveys all the want in his body. All of the searing need to devour this man before him, and to be led all the way through. 

Will opens his soft mouth around the head of Hannibal’s large cock. He licks at the slit, seeing what flavours he could taste of the other man. Sweet honey floods his tongue, blooming brilliantly throughout his mouth. Will is hungry for more. 

The younger man desperately leans forward, attempting to swallow Hannibal’s length whole. The hand clutching the back of his head does not allow this. 

“Be careful, too hasty and you will choke Will” Hannibal purrs from above him. The caution only makes him want it more. Will pulls off of Hannibal’s cock with a pop. “Please Hannibal, don’t go easy on me now,” Will says with a smile on his blindfolded face. He can hear as Hannibal chuckles lightly above him. 

“Whoever said I'd go easy on you?" Dr. Lecter chuckled, cupping the bottom of Will's honey-soaked jaw. A glimmer in the older man's eye spoke to him, telling him that this would be a long night. 

 

Notes:

I can't write sex scenes for shit- had to get Starling to come write some for me <3

Chapter 4

Will has only a brief moment to concern himself with the warning before Hannibal slides his length onto Will's waiting tongue, more of the sweet honey taste swirling in his mouth. Will can feel the head of Hannibal’s cock touch the back of his throat, jaw opening wider and wider to accommodate the man’s girth. The lingering taste of honey covered Will’s taste buds. 

Hannibal’s hand on the back of Will’s head tightens into his curls as a low groan escapes the older man’s mouth. Will feels a sense of victory and deep, primal satisfaction as he starts to lick and suck at the doctor’s cock. He moves his mouth over the length of the shaft, sucking on the sensitive head and nursing beads of precum out of his therapist. Will moans all the while, feeling the vibrations tickle Hannibal’s cock deep in the back of his throat. Hannibal’s second hand moves to hold Will’s throat, only lightly just above his Adam’s apple. 

Will’s hands climb up the other man’s legs, holding his strong calves and thighs. Anchoring himself to Hannibal. Will settles one hand above his knee and the other at the base of Hannibal’s cock, gently applying pressure around the base. Absolutely enchanted with the other’s body, Will prayed silently that he would be here again, or perhaps in Hannibal’s bedroom to enjoy what he had to offer. 

Both men are consumed by the fervour of their desire, blind to all but each other. Will chokes briefly as Hannibal pulls off the silk blindfold. Awe-struck by Hannibal’s beauty Will swallows down hard, producing a delicious moan from the other man. It was obvious that his patience was waning by the heat rising in Hannibal’s cheeks, the light beading of sweat on his brow. Will sucked on the cock in his mouth, pulling the member deeper and deeper into his throat. Hannibal was losing composure, his hands tightening around Will, pulling him impossibly closer. His hips started to buck forward, fucking Will’s mouth. 

Shockingly quick, Hannibal pulls back from Will with a light pop. In an effort to regain some composure the older man breathes deeply. 

"Patience is a virtue,” Hannibal says, running his fingers through Will’s damp curls. 

"I've been plenty patient.." Will teases by licking precum off of his tip with a long flat tongue. 

"Not enough for my liking." Hannibal grabs Will's chin, growling. 

"You don't like this?" Will drags a finger down the length of Hannibal’s cock. In an instant, Hannibal pulls the other man up. He drags the other man to the head of the table. Hannibal’s seat. He pushes Will down at the waist, bending him over. Hannibal wastes no time, grabbing Will’s wrists and pinning them behind his back with one large hand. He uses the other to deftly undo Will’s belt buckle and shuffle the smaller man’s pants down. 

With his spare hand, Hannibal reaches down and gently strokes the head of Will’s own cock, collecting precum on his fingers. Hannibal leans over and spits down onto Will’s asshole. He drags his fingers up, caressing Will’s now-wet hole. Excrutiatingly slow, Hannibal slides a finger into Will, teasing his hole ever so softly. He starts to coax his fingers into Will, allowing his body to get used to the sensation. Little did he know, Will was not unfamiliar to the sensation and was growing increasingly impatient beneath the larger man. To make a point, Will scoffs at Hannibal. 

“Whatever is the matter, Will?” Hannibal purred, “You don’t like this?” The man mocked. 

“Ha-ha Hannibal-,” Will’s retort was cut short by the other man, evolving into short gasps as the older man increased the severity of his strokes against a spot of excruciating pleasure. 

"I need more, Hannibal,” Will pleaded. 

"Don't be rude, Will” Hannibal had Will in a chokehold and god, did he know it. “Ask politely now..” 

Will was growing increasingly desperate by the second. He wanted to know so desperately what Hannibal could give him. The size of his cock was almost daunting, almost. 

"Please..." He whispers. 

"Please, what Will?” Hannibal coos, feigning ignorance to the state of the man beneath him. 

"Please, Hannibal-“ Will gasps, "Please fuck me’” 

Hannibal, always one to respect good manners, complies. He lines himself up with Will’s aching hole and slowly leans into the other man. Once his tip is just inside Will’s entrance, Hannibal stops moving. 

After a moment of thin patience, Will leans as far back into Hannibal as his position would allow. Sliding himself back into the big cock awaiting him. Hannibal deftly collects Will’s hands and wraps his wrists with the sweat-ridden silk cloth, long forgotten to Will. He ties the smaller man’s hands behind his back and shift them both into a more comfortable angle. The knot is comfortable on his wrists, but quite effective in restraining him. Will knew this was another in a myriad of ways Dr. Lecter was establishing control over him. 

Hannibal leans over Will, reaching a hand up to hold the younger man’s neck. “What do you want Will?” Hannibal growls in his ear. 

“All of you, Hannibal,” Will moans. 

With that, Hannibal thrusts his hips forward. Finally bottoming out in the man he has long sought after. Hannibal sets a rough pace for them both, snapping his hips upward into Will. Hannibal’s cock has Will in moaning shambles within a dozen strokes. He shoves his head onto the cool dining table, eyes rolling back in pleasure. Hannibal starts to let out filthy moans. Will joins him in a duet of ecstasy. 

"Oh god.." Will cries out, fists clutching the expensive Turkish placemats still laid out from the gathering moments before. 

"No god here, Will" Hannibal growls, striking Will’s ass with a force greater than necessary “Certainly not after your outburst this evening."

"I'm s-sorry" Will pleads. 

"Insolent brats don't want to be sorry, Will." Hannibal’s hand falls down on Will’s ass again- harder this time, "They want to take the punishment."

"Please... Harder-" Hannibal hits him again and Will grits his teeth through his moans, his ass flushing bright red in response. 

Both men were drawing near to their climax. Hannibal’s dick was pulsing inside of Will. Similarly Will’s own cock leaks beads of precum onto Hannibal’s pristine floor. Hannibal’s hand shoots upward further to grab at Will’s curls again, an anchoring point for Hannibal to pound into him. Thrusting into his red ass and enveloped tightly by the younger man beneath him, Hannibal throws his head back in pleasure. Releasing animalistic noises, his white-knuckle grip somehow becomes even tighter on Will’s hips as his pleasure continues to grow. Will’s beautiful symphony of noises is music to his ears as the rhythm of their bodies begins to grow sloppier, more desperate for a climax. His hips stutter once, twice before Will feels himself filled with Hannibal’s warm ejaculate. 

Still groaning with ecstacy, Hannibal slowly and carefully pulls himself out of the younger man- ensuring he hits all the spots of pleasure on his retreat. His cum drips out of Will’s ass, swirling downwards in a mixture of sweat, saliva and honey and landing on the undoubtedly priceless Persian rug below. Still hard and stripped of his long-awaited orgasm, Will barely has the energy to hold his weakened legs up any longer let alone stroke his aching cock. Waves of a rather uncomfortable pleasure radiate down his body, pooling in his abdomen. God, did he hope Hannibal would let him cum tonight

Chapter 5

Chapter by Sandro_Botecelli

Hannibal releases his hold on Will’s cock after a moment, leaving Will groaning into the dining table once more. The larger man runs his hand up the curve of Will’s ass, admiring his work. Hannibal draws his finger over Will’s hole, still dripping his cum onto the floor.

“Is this what you had imagined for the night, Will?” Hannibal coos with hot breath onto the back of Will’s neck, “Or would you have rather whored yourself out to Dr. Bloom?”

“It can’t be my fault that I had options to consider, Dr. Lecter…” Will teased, audibly grinning through ragged breath. Hannibal drew his hand back to spank him hard, warning the younger man to watch his mouth.

“I thought we worked on this behaviour, Will” Hannibal seethed through clenched teeth, flipping Will over abruptly, working a hand up and down his throbbing cock. “This is a dangerous game to play while spread out on the table for me. You’ll have to mind your manners, Will, if you wish to finish tonight.”

“I needed you, H-hannibal.” Will moaned, electricity shooting through his body in response to the older man’s hands, “On me, in me, all over me. I needed to be y-yours.”

Hannibal practically purrs at Will’s desire. The older man slips a skilled finger deftly into Will’s aching hole.

“Are you mine, dear Will?” Hannibal coaxes the submission out of Will with a smile.

“Y-yes!” Will gasps for air beneath his hands, “Fuck Hannibal, I’m yours”

Hannibal strokes Will’s cock in time with his fingers thrusting in his wanting hole, deftly curling upwards, dragging along that sweet spot inside Will. He practically shouts as Hannibal combines his efforts with his mouth, kissing at the tip of Will’s throbbing dick. Sweat dripping down his back, Will moans obscenities as Hannibal sucks at his cock. The combined stimulation of both penetration and fellatio drives Will to pleasure he didn’t know he could feel. Body practically numb, Will cries out as he spills over into Hannibal’s wanting mouth. He cums hard, muscles tense and hands in Hannibal’s hair, holding him ever so close.

Hannibal follows instructions well, and swallows down Will’s sweet cum, consuming every part of the man he could. He sucks lightly at Will’s cock, draining it of any remaining goodness. Will sucks air between his teeth at the friction on his spent dick. Too blissed out to give a fuck. The overstimulation draws moans out of the younger man.

“If you’re ready to stop, you must ask politely Will.” Dr. Lecter teases the gasping man with a devilish smile.

“P-please..” Will responds obediently, no energy left to fight submission.

Hannibal’s soft lips and firm hands slide off of him, instead relocating to his shaking thighs dripping with delight. He expertly glides his tongue across them, kissing and sucking and licking Will’s mess up. Will is still gasping, red-faced and sticky but floating in another dimension of pleasure. Hannibal rises, extending an arm out to pick up Will’s cell-phone off the dining table.

“One hour and twelve minutes” Hannibal reads aloud from the phone, “Quite the voicemail for Dr. Bloom to wake up to, don’t you think?”

Will’s cheeks flush as the realization floods him. Clearly, Dr. Lecter was a jealous man, needing to show off to the world what was his. Will was his obedient possession now, and Hannibal had certainly earned bragging rights to his pleasure. Will could only burst out in laughter at his unexpected exhibition as he knew how confused, albeit turned on, Alana would be in the morning. The pair share a small, knowing giggle.

Will attempts to stand on his shivering legs and to no surprise plops right back down on the mahogany surface supporting him. Hannibal tucks the phone into his jacket pocket and places two strong arms under Will to support him, scooping him up. The pair climb up an extravagant stairwell to a location Will had only daydreamt about before, the psychiatrist’s bedroom.

Lined with extravagant crown molding to match the rest of his personal castle, a small chandelier glimmered in the centre of the expansive room. Closets lined the far side, decorated with suits more expensive than Will had spent on his whole wardrobe. A vast bay window with hand-sewn elaborate curtains framing it sat on the adjacent side. All these lavish decorations, but the bed was clearly the crown jewel of the room. As Hannibal laid the younger man down on the king-size mattress, all Will could feel was the 5,000, no, 10,000 threadcount sheets against his still-tingling skin. Will chuckles to himself. It was all exactly as he imagined.

Some clattering around the adjoining en-suite later, Hannibal takes a warm cloth and gently clears the sweat and come off of the younger man, now almost asleep. Pulling the sheets overtop of his peaceful frame, he stirs to make himself comfortable beneath the mountain of blankets. Dudking in-and-out of sleep, the last thing dear Will remembers is the strong, warm arms of the older man wrapped tightly around him and the smell of honey still dabbled across their flesh.