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“I just don’t think it’s possible.” Will sat reclined on a lounge chair by their pool. The very picture of relaxation. His grip on his tumbler of whiskey said otherwise.
“For you or in general?”
“For me, obviously. I know it’s possible, I just… I mean I’ve never…”
“Tried it?”
“Been curious. It never occurred to me to try to-- and why are we talking about this again?”
Hannibal’s mouth twitched. “I believe it was you who began this conversation with ‘Why are you always so butthurt?’”
Will snorted. Sometimes he forgot how hilarious he was. Clearly, Hannibal didn’t appreciate it just then. “Yeah but you didn’t have to be all coy about it. You knew what I meant.”
“And what about now? Have you become curious?”
“No,” Will said, too quickly.
“It does take practice. Some getting used to. There’s the physical discomfort, of course, but there is also a psychological component.”
“You would know.”
“Yes.”
“Christ.” Will took a large gulp of whiskey. “I’m not about to start shoving cucumbers up my ass or anything, Hannibal. And it’s none of your business, anyway.”
“Perish the thought, I would never suggest such a thing.” His mouth quirked again. “At least not to start.”
“Oh my god.”
“If you are curious--”
“Hannibal.”
“I would suggest starting with plenty of lubrication and one finger. You’ve had a prostate exam before, I assume?”
“You’re not my doctor.” It was as good as a yes.
***
The worst part was knowing Hannibal knew. The bastard had left a bottle of lube on Will’s nightstand, without comment. He could hear what Hannibal would say if he were there: No pressure, it’s merely a suggestion. It may help you relax.
Yeah, whatever.
Relaxation was the last thing on his mind. No, all he could think about was plenty of lubrication and one finger. This is what Hannibal wanted. To occupy Will’s thoughts, to discomfit him. Maybe it was some elaborate revenge for tossing them off the cliff. Sure, Will knew that Hannibal was in love with him, but he didn’t assume that Hannibal’s feelings might include a sexual interest. It hadn’t even occurred to him.
“Fucking hell,” he said, addressing the bottle of lube.
He picked it up and stared at it. Deliberating. He swore again and opened the bottle, pouring a small amount on the tip of his finger.
Another curse when he realized he hadn’t yet pulled down his boxers.
He put down the bottle and used his clean hand to shimmy out of his shorts. Half an hour and he still hadn’t even started. But he got this far, he might as well try something.
Shifting his hips, Will slid his finger down, behind himself and between his cheeks. It was a weird feeling. Even though he was doing it to himself, he was startled by the light, ticklish sensation of his finger along the muscle of his rectum. He couldn’t help clenching in surprise.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Rubbed back and forth with his finger, a little harder, but it was still just weird. He probably needed more lube.
Squeezing out a liberal amount, he tried again. The tip of his finger pushed in, and he jerked with the shock, twisting his hips as though to run away from his own hand.
It’s so weird.
Too weird.
With a tired sigh, Will gave up. He wiped his hand on his discarded boxers and used some tissues to clean the rest, tossing it all to the floor before nesting under the covers to sleep.
***
“It didn’t work.”
“I can’t say I know what you mean, Will.”
“You know what I fucking mean. I tried… you know,” Will said, gesturing with his hand. “And it was just weird.”
“I did say it would take practice.”
“I can’t believe we’re even talking about this.”
“You said that before. Curiously, you’re also the one who brought it up again.” Hannibal’s eyes shone with mirth. Will had never wanted to hit him more.
“Shut up.”
***
Will swore he had put the lube inside his nightstand drawer, but there it sat. On top.
He managed to ignore it for about an hour. Reading. Watching some inane bullshit on television. Definitely not looking at it.
Eventually it was too distracting, and Will found himself sliding down his boxers. Reaching over to grab the bottle. He frowned, reading the label as though it might impart some kind of secret. Give him a hint.
He poured a good amount of lube onto his fingers, trying not to analyze why he was even bothering. Or more accurately, for whom he was doing it.
Sliding his fingers down between his cheeks, he spread the lube around, just letting himself get used to the feeling. The hairs at the back of his neck prickled, giving him the absurd sensation that somehow, Hannibal was watching. His cock twitched. That was… new.
A little more pressure and his index finger was inside, just barely. It was still odd, but Will was determined to get at least a little further. Maybe then Hannibal would stop being so goddamn smug about it.
He wiggled the tip of his finger, which didn’t make him feel much of anything, and he sighed in frustration. The release of tension opened him up just a bit, and he felt his finger slide into the second knuckle.
It felt… peculiar. Not good, but not bad, either. Kind of like taking a tiny shit, he thought with a chuckle.The stretch wasn’t painful just yet, but he still wasn’t understanding the appeal. Maybe a different angle?
Removing his finger, he crossed the room to open his closet door, where there was a full length mirror. Facing away, he got down on all fours and looked back over his shoulder, bending his arm at an awkward angle to slide his finger back into his ass. The sensation wasn’t too bad that time, since he knew what to expect. The finger slid deeper, all the way in.
One thing was certain: it didn’t feel like a vagina. He watched himself in the mirror and tried moving his finger in and out. Seeing it didn’t make it any less weird, but he was fascinated by the way his hole stretched around his finger. The way his finger glistened with lube as it disappeared inside himself.
Unbidden, an image of Hannibal entered Will’s mind, projected on the mirror. He stood in front of Will, looking down at the reflection of his ass. Will’s cock twitched again, filled to half-mast, and he had to stop.
That was enough for the night.
***
“Maybe I’m just not cut out for it. It doesn’t really… do anything for me.”
“It may be that you’re doing it wrong.”
Will rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks for that great advice, asshole.”
“Perhaps I can be of some help?”
“What? No!” Will sputtered, taking a furious sip of his wine. He refused to let himself choke as it burned down his throat and into his nostrils.
“I meant that I can give you some instruction on what tends to work for most people. Techniques.” Hannibal was as patient as ever. The dick.
“O-oh. Right.”
“How many fingers have you used?”
“Wha~at? Why? Is that relevant?”
“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t, Will.”
“Yeah, right. Um. One.” Will focused on a tiny nick on the edge of the glass. It was super interesting.
“Try adding more fingers. You’re not going to accomplish much with just one until you’re more familiar with your body. You need to relax, explore what feels good.”
The only thing Will could manage in reply was a grunt.
“Have you tried stimulating your penis while fingering yourself?”
“I--” Will couldn’t breathe. “You need to stop. Now.”
Hannibal nodded his assent. “Very well. If you require any further instruction, you need only ask, Will.”
As Will stood to leave, Hannibal called after him. “Oh, and Will?”
“What.”
“One more thing. When penetrating yourself, try bearing down from above. It may be easier.”
This was really fucking weird.
***
This time, Will started in front of the mirror, naked. He had a pillow on the floor, and the lube close at hand. If at first you don’t succeed...
Getting on his knees facing the mirror, he slicked his fingers and reached behind himself. He was getting used to the feeling of fingers rubbing over his hole, at least, so it wasn’t as much of a shock when he pressed one finger inside. That was still a little strange, but not uncomfortable.
He heard Hannibal’s voice, Try bearing down. Shifting his knees apart, he watched himself as he tried to relax, keeping his hand in place. He slowly lowered himself onto his finger, taking it deep, deeper, until it was all the way in.
Right.
How many fingers have you used?
He could do this. He stared resentfully at his reflection, the flush on his chest, on his face. It even reached his ears.
Easing himself back up, he rubbed the tips of two fingers over the ring of muscle, a little more pressure. Relax.
The fingers breached him, and he took a deep breath as he sank down again, slow. It stung a little, but it was bearable. He realized his eyes were squeezed shut. When he opened them, he saw that he had managed to sink all the way down.
He wiggled his fingers, just a little, and gasped. Not… bad. Okay.
His traitorous mind projected an image of Hannibal again, as he heard his voice, Have you tried stimulating your penis?
It wasn’t even sexy. He was getting hard anyway, imagining the clinical intensity of Hannibal’s gaze. Scrutinizing Will’s position, nodding with approval at the depth of Will’s fingers. Let’s don’t think about why imagining Hannibal seemed to help.
“Fuck.”
Removing his fingers to reposition himself, he sat on the pillow. He angled his hips so he could get his fingers back in. Curious, how much easier it was. A few strokes of his cock brought him to full hardness, and he was trembling with the effort of staying upright. Another adjustment of his hips made it a little easier.
You’re doing very well, said the image of Hannibal. Will hissed with pleasure as he quickened his strokes. He almost forgot that he had two fingers shoved in his ass.
He timed pumping his fingers in and out of himself with each pull on his cock. Watching himself in the mirror. It wasn’t so bad. Actually, it was pretty good. He made eye contact with the imaginary Hannibal in the mirror, and spilled all over himself.
“Son of a bitch,” he gasped, collapsing onto his back.
An indeterminable amount of time passed as he laid there, panting. He ached all over when he moved to stand. It almost felt like his fingers were still there, inside him. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
But there was no fucking way he was going to tell Hannibal.
***
“Well I still don’t think I can, uh, climax from… anal stimulation.” Will cringed a little. “But I guess it’s, you know. Not bad.”
“You tried masturbating?”
“Oh my god. Yes. Christ, how can you be so…”
Hannibal’s eyebrows quirked up.
“It’s weird. You’re making this weird.”
“You’re making this weird for yourself, Will. Tell me, why are you so determined for this not to work for you?”
“Okay, do not psychoanalyze my… butt. Please. I’m not--- Just. Goddammit.” Will scrubbed a hand over his face in exasperation.
“I don’t mean to probe, of course.” A crinkle at the corner of Hannibal’s eyes. “I merely wish to help you penetrate the deeper reasons behind your hesitation.”
“Did you take some kind of course on being an asshole, or does it just come naturally to you?”
“There was a seminar at Johns Hopkins, in fact. A supplementary workshop on bedside manner.” The way his voice rumbled around the syllables sent shivers up Will’s spine. His jaw clenched.
“Of course you did. You probably passed that one with honours.”
“Might I suggest--”
“What. Might you suggest what.”
“Doing some of your own research? Perhaps another source would make you more comfortable.”
“Now you’re concerned about my comfort?”
“I’ve always been concerned about your comfort, Will.”
***
search: anal penetration
Ugh.
search: prostate stimulation
“Will?”
“WHAT!” Will slammed his laptop shut as he looked up to see Hannibal hovering in his bedroom doorway.
Hannibal’s right eyebrow quirked up. “Sorry to interrupt, but I was about to make lunch and wanted to know if you were planning on joining me.”
“Uh. No. Thanks.”
“I can bring some up to you if you--”
“NO!” Flushing pink, Will cleared his throat. “ I mean, no. Th-that’s okay. I’m not hungry.”
“I’ll leave something aside for you in the fridge.”
“Fine! Okay. Thanks.”
Once Hannibal was gone, Will reopened the laptop. Oh yeah, prostate stimulation.
This was stupid. Images and diagrams were no help.
Another idea came to him. He typed in the URL for a porn site he knew, hoping it would be more helpful. Of course, the first images he saw were links to videos for straight porn - not really what he was looking for. He sighed.
There was a link to a gay version of the site. He clicked on it, and held his breath.
“I’m sorry to interr--”
“OH MY GOD.” The laptop was closed again, and Will nearly jumped out of his skin.
“--upt.”
“You’re fucking wearing shoes, how did I not hear you? Are you a fucking ninja?”
“That’s ridiculous, Will. I’m primarily trained in Krav Maga.”
Will dragged both hands down his face. “I hate you. What do you want.”
“There is no need to be rude. I’m going out for a bit. I just wanted to see if you needed anything?”
“I’m fine.”
“I see. Well then, I’ll leave you to it.”
Back to the laptop.
The still of the first video was rather… explicit. And not at all what he was looking for. Not ever. He moused over to ‘categories’ and clicked on ‘anal sex’.
Some of the screenshots were… unappealing. He scrolled on by. Another screenshot caught his eye, however, and he opened it to watch.
To Will’s relief, both men in the video were reasonably attractive, and middle aged. He was a little embarrassed at his own surprise that they weren’t in a doggy style position - he had always just assumed that’s how it worked. But in this video, they were facing each other. Rather, they began the video facing each other. Twenty-two minutes later, they were moving into their fourth position. Or was it fifth?
“You seem very focused on whatever it is you’re doing today,” Hannibal said from the doorway.
Will managed to catch the computer at the edge of his bed as it tumbled off his lap.
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“I assure you, I’m not trying to startle you. I made sure to tread more noisily on my approach.” He sounded sincere, but Will wasn’t buying it.
Oh shit. Hannibal knew. He had to know. Well of course he did, he was the one that suggested it.
Will groaned. “Right. Well, what is it now?”
“Dinner. Did you have a preference?”
“For what?”
“What we should eat this evening, of course.”
“You never ask. Why are you asking?”
“Because I never ask,” Hannibal said, his mouth curving into a smile.
“Just… do whatever. I’m sure you’ve got something in mind anyway. Do that.” Will waved Hannibal off.
“As you wish.”
Nearly two hours had passed by the time Will closed his internet browser. He certainly felt more educated. And far more aroused than he expected to be. Not that he was attracted to any of the men, but seeing their enthusiastic enjoyment... Well. It was convincing, at any rate, and for the first time he thought it might be possible for him to enjoy it too.
He just needed to figure out what the hell he was doing. Diagrams might be necessary after all.
When Hannibal returned once more, Will heard him approach just in time to drape the comforter hastily over his lap. He swore that Hannibal still had a smug gleam in his eyes.
Oh god. He could probably smell it.
Will did his best to maintain an air of indifference. “I don’t think I’ve even had dogs that bugged me this much.”
“Dogs are incapable of caring as much about your well-being.”
“Ha! Since when do you care about my well-being?”
“As long as I’ve cared about your comfort. Dinner will be ready shortly, if you wanted to… finish up.”
What a dick.
“Thanks. Yeah, I just. Need to take a shower. I’ve been just laying around all day, I feel kinda gross.”
“I’m sure you do. I will see you downstairs, then.”
This was literally the worst moment of Will’s life.
***
After an awkwardly silent dinner, despite Hannibal’s greatest efforts, Will returned to his room with the intention of hiding under his blankets until… forever. But something on his nightstand caught his eye.
The bottle of lube had mysteriously found its way back on top of his nightstand, along with a giftwrapped box. There was an envelope underneath it, with Will’s name written on it in a familiar, pretentious script.
Unwilling to brook any more interruptions, he closed and locked his door before returning to his bedside. He opened the box first, tearing the paper and letting it flutter in shreds to the floor. Inside sat a… thing. It looked kind of like a dildo, but not like one Will had ever seen. It was smaller, and had a little hook at the end. Made from silicone in black and red. A small folded user guide was tucked in alongside, and Will discovered that it was a prostate massager. Perfect for Beginner Users.
“For fuck’s sake.”
Will had been wrong. This was the worst moment of his life.
He dropped the box and its contents back onto the nightstand and picked up the envelope, taking out the note inside.
Will,
I took the liberty of procuring an item that may aid you in getting to the bottom of your troubles. I hope this will help ease you into the proper frame of mind to fully appreciate what the bottom has to offer.
I truly believe that you have the potential to savor the culmination of your efforts.
Fondly,
H.
What a colossal, meddling, pretentious asshole.
The note was crumpled and tossed to the floor. Kicked under the bed. On top of the bed, Will flopped and rolled himself up in the comforter like a burrito. Still in his clothes.
No way was he using that… thing. He refused to give Hannibal the satisfaction.
It was way too hot under the covers.
Unrolling himself put him on the edge of the bed, facing the nightstand. He should have kicked the box under the bed too. Now it was just sitting there. Taunting him.
And goddammit, he could feel his cock give a little spasm of interest. His ass twinged a little, as though in anticipation.
Nope. No way.
He curled his body, trapping his cock between his thighs. One of the videos he had found involved prostate massage, but it wasn’t with a toy. A tattooed guy had used his fingers on a way more tattooed guy. Regardless, the man had looked like he was really enjoying himself. A lot.
“Fucking hell.”
Curiosity killed the cat. And embarrassed the mongoose.
Dragging himself up to sitting, he removed the prostate massager from its box. Examined it from every angle. It was soft to the touch, though firm. He placed it back in the box and perused the user guide.
It seemed easy enough. At its widest, it was about the same as two of his fingers. Nothing too alarming. The worst part was realizing how much thought Hannibal had put into this.
He stripped off his clothes and tossed them to the floor. He thought about going to the mirror, but he was already getting hard. How lucky for him that it didn’t stop his imagination from helpfully providing the sensation of Hannibal’s voice in his ear, and the heat of his body at Will’s back.
There is no reason to hesitate, Will.
Even his own imagination was against him. He shivered.
The routine was familiar now - lube, fingers, press. He laid on his side as he worked himself open, bit by bit. It didn’t take long to add a second finger, and he stroked himself idly with his other hand. A few minutes of stretching himself and the discomfort faded into a vague sort of ache.
It was now or never.
The prostate massager seemed more intimidating when he was actually about to use it. He spread lube all over it, so much it was running down his fingers. The user guide had declared ‘There’s no such thing as too much lube!’
With deep, calming breath, he eased the massager between his cheeks. He squeezed his cock and rubbed the tip of the massager back and forth across his hole until it slid inside. He hissed in a breath and tensed. It wasn’t that wide, but it definitely didn’t feel like fingers.
Relax, Will. This is for your pleasure.
A few more deep breaths through his nose. The flush that spread across his body warmed him, and he used it to enhance the fantasy, imagining Hannibal laid out just behind him, curling his fingers over Will’s on the toy.
Will’s hips stuttered, and the toy slid all the way in.
“Holy shit,” he gasped, clenching around the massager.
It was… different. He found himself writhing his hips a little, shifting the toy inside, brushing over… Oh.
“Oh god.”
He started pumping his cock again as he shifted his hips, the imaginary Hannibal guiding Will to push the massager a little deeper.
His entire body felt tingly. He didn’t know his cock could feel this hard. Sensation tormented his body, and he panted and moaned as all of his muscles tensed with pleasure. There was so much feeling, his nerves were alight. It was too much.
All at once he faltered, running away from the edge. He just couldn’t do it.
Static filled his brain and he curled forward, gingerly pulling the massager out as he tried to catch his breath.
It felt good. Very good. But he couldn’t bring himself to endure it.
When his breath evened out, he brought himself off the old fashioned way. Cleaned himself off with his discarded shirt. And then, sleep.
Tomorrow, he would tell Hannibal that he was wrong, and Will was right. It just wasn’t possible for him to have a prostate orgasm.
***
Over dinner the following night, Will figured it was as good a time as any to bring it up. It was pretty easy to convince himself that he was doing it so Hannibal would leave him alone.
“So,” he began, swishing his whiskey around. The way the ice cubes clinked together was so interesting.
Hannibal blinked at him, expectant.
“I tried again. Last night. It didn’t work. I said it wouldn’t.”
“Really? It didn’t sound like it didn’t work.”
“You were listening? For cryin’-- HANNIBAL.”
“You made it very difficult to avoid, Will. I certainly wasn’t listening on purpose.”
Will’s nerves were shot. He stood from his chair, pacing out to the patio just to let off some energy. He stood on the edge of the deck, back turned.
“I’m curious,” Hannibal called out, “have you tried supplementing your attempts with fantasies?”
Will flushed bright red. Thank god Hannibal couldn’t see it.
Thanks came too soon. He felt Hannibal come up behind him, a hand on his shoulder as Hannibal settled at his side.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Will. Fantasies can help us build an emotional context around a physical act. Is this not how you use your gift, to get inside the minds of monsters?”
“It’s not… exactly the same.” More like monsters getting inside of him. Will downed the whiskey. “Fine. Yeah. I fantasized.”
“What did you imagine?”
“No one. In particular.”
“Did it help?”
“It, uh. It was easier to… enjoy myself. When I imagined someone watching. Or-- well, looking at me.”
They sat on the reclining deck chairs nearby. Will set his glass down on a small side table and leaned back, closing his eyes. Maybe it would be easier if he imagined the stream.
“Did this person simply observe, or also participate?”
“There was… some. Participation.”
“So it’s not only about being watched, but thoroughly enjoyed. Appreciated.”
Down boy, Will told his cock. He shifted in the chair, hoping he wasn’t obvious.
His mouth was dry, he couldn’t speak. He nodded. Clamped his hands over the arm rests.
“And yet you were still unable to let go at the very last moment. Always hesitating at the precipice. Do you have trouble letting yourself leap over the edge, now that you’ve experienced it literally?”
“Why are you such a dick?”
“You think I’m accusing you of something. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, Will, only trying to point out that perhaps you are, in fact, feeling guilty.”
“That’s… not what this is.”
“Then what do you think it is?”
“I’m just telling you, I can’t do it.”
“I can.”
“What.” It was suddenly cold. Or at least, Will’s skin prickled with goosebumps.
“You may recall that I have some experience in stimulating the prostate.”
“Oh god. Can you not?”
“It may help you to let go if you are somewhat... disconnected from the process.”
The stream wasn’t helping. Will could see Hannibal there, on the bank. Smug as ever.
“I’d like to disconnect from this whole conversation.”
The warmth of Hannibal’s hand on Will’s arm jarred him from his thoughts. He pulled his arm away and stood.
“I’m going to bed.”
“Good night, Will.”
Will grumbled in reply.
That night, he dreamt of Hannibal. Touching him. Laying him back.
Lips brushing along his thighs. Fingers sliding along his perineum.
Every sensation was so vivid. He saw stars. They were by the stream, the night sky surrounded them with warm light, bright. Too bright.
His climax blinded him.
He awoke tangled in the sheets, drenched in sweat and panting.
“Fuck.”
***
The next day, Will made sure to avoid Hannibal as much as possible. Mostly, he stayed in his room. When Hannibal went out, Will took a swim, hoping the cool water and physical activity would help clear his head.
It didn’t.
In the afternoon, he went for a walk. A very long walk. So long that it was getting dark by the time he got back.
Dinner was waiting upon his return. For once, Hannibal didn’t pry. They weren’t silent, but their conversation was uncharacteristically light. Superficial. Will appreciated the break.
After dinner he took a long, hot shower. He stared at himself in the mirror, and tried to relax his posture. He took a deep breath, held it in. Let it out.
Hannibal was in the study, sketching. Will approached, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. As Will stood in front of the desk, Hannibal didn’t look up.
“Is there something I can help you with, Will?”
On some level, Will knew his name had always sounded a certain way on Hannibal’s lips. Now, he really noticed it. Let it wash over him, sending tremors straight down between his legs.
“Yeah.”
Hannibal looked up.
“I see,” he said, his eyes taking in all of Will before him. “What did you need?”
Will muttered a curse under his breath. Braced himself. “I… want to try again. With your help. Please.”
A tick at the corner of Hannibal’s mouth, his eyes crinkled. Not teasing, but pleased. His pupils dilated just enough to be noticeable. “I’m afraid I need you to be more specific.”
“Oh for-- Dammit, Hannibal, you know what I’m asking.”
“Be that as it may, I need to hear you say it, please. I need to know that you are certain.”
“Shit. Right. Uh.” Will squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shaky breath. He could still change his mind. Just walk out the door.
But the dream haunted him. He couldn’t stop thinking about how close he was when the massager hit just the right spot.
“Will?”
“Yes. I’m here. I’m… fine. I would like you to help me have a prostate orgasm.” He almost laughed, biting on his lower lip. “God, that doesn’t sound sexy at all, does it?”
“Does it need to?”
“Ha, no. I guess not.”
Hannibal rose and stepped toward Will, his steps careful and deliberate. Still giving Will a chance to back out. Another feeling crawled up his spine, then. Curled around him with a pleasant sort of heat.
Slowly, Hannibal brought a hand up to Will’s face, stroking his thumb over Will’s cheek. “Do you prefer to be in your own bedroom, or will you come to mine?”
“Wh-what?” For a moment, Will didn’t understand the question. “Oh. Right. Um. Yours is fine.”
That way, if everything went horribly wrong, at least he could still try to sleep in peace in his own bed. It would still be safe from Hannibal’s influence, even if only a little.
Will followed Hannibal upstairs to his bedroom. Standing unsteady in the doorway, he waited for Hannibal to beckon him inside.
“Where, uh. Where do you want me?”
The smile Hannibal gave him was brilliant, showing off his pointed teeth. Apprehension fluttered in Will’s stomach. “I’m sure my answer is not what you were looking for, so instead I will say, please lay back in the centre of the bed.”
“Right.” Will untucked the towel and let it fall to the floor. He crawled onto the bed and settled back against the pillows, every nerve in his body screaming with the urge to run while also alight with excitement.
“I’ll just be a moment. I assume your gift is in your bedside drawer?”
Oh god. “Y-yeah.”
Many impressions floated to the forefront of Will’s thoughts. He thought back to the videos, wondering if any of them were like what Hannibal had in mind. Even the possibility of Hannibal touching him that way was enough to get his cock interested. Fuck.
Hannibal returned with the massager and lube in hand. Will watched him as he set both items on the nightstand. Unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up. His hair fell across his eyes, and the possibility occurred to Will that Hannibal might actually be nervous too.
The stiff posture of Hannibal’s shoulders, the careful way he arranged the items and approached Will.
Gently, he touched Will’s knee, telegraphing his intent to kneel by him on the bed. Hannibal’s face, for once, was completely open, and all Will could see was raw desire, and something less familiar beneath. Whatever it was, it hit Will with the force of a Mack truck. He couldn’t breathe.
Settling at Will’s feet, Hannibal guided him to bend his legs, and part his knees. Broad, gentle strokes of his hands down Will’s thighs urged him down the bed, and Hannibal tucked a pillow under Will’s hips.
“Have I ever told you, Will, how beautiful you are?” He pressed his lips to the side of Will’s knee.
Will gasped. Whatever blood wasn’t rushing to his face was filling his cock. “N-not like that you haven’t.” He tried to regain some measure of composure. “You know you’re not acting very doctor-y. I thought we were going to keep this professional.”
“Mm. Right you are.” Hannibal grabbed the lube and poured just enough to slick the tips of two fingers. He leaned forward and braced one hand on the bed by Will’s hip. “Are you ready?”
“Uh, shouldn’t you be using more lube?”
“I will. First I would like to get you accustomed to my touch. You’ll find it’s quite different from touching yourself.”
Shit. “R-right. Okay… Okay.” Will squeezed his eyes shut.
“I need you to relax, Will. Please, open your eyes. Watch my hand.”
Will obeyed, looking down to see Hannibal’s hand move between his legs, his fingers feeling behind Will’s balls. His body jerked at the first contact to his perineum, and Hannibal applied the slightest pressure.
“Oh shit!”
Hannibal paused. “All right?”
“Yeah. Yeah I'm fine, it's just… it's different.”
The pressure increased. Will squirmed, unsure if he wanted to move toward or away from the feeling. Hannibal rubbed back and forth, watching Will intently. His fingers slid back further, over Will’s hole, and Will jerked again, one hand reaching out to grab Hannibal’s arm, digging his nails in.
Another pause as Hannibal waited for Will to settle. His fingers were right against Will’s hole, not pressing, but very… there. Will surprised himself as he fought the urge to push down onto the digits.
Sitting back on his feet, Hannibal drew his hand away. He smiled. “I'm going to need my arm back for just a moment.”
“Oh, sorry.” Releasing his grip on Hannibal's arm, he clenched his jaw instead.
Hannibal added more lube to his fingers. It drizzled down over his hand, down his wrist, but it didn't seem to concern him. “I'm going to insert a finger now, if you feel you’re ready.”
Words came but died on Will's lips. Nodding seemed to be the best he could manage. As Hannibal bent forward to press his fingers against Will's hole once again, Will twisted the covers in his hands, his body tensing in anticipation.
Hannibal hesitated. “Though I am loathe to repeat myself, I must insist this really will be better for you if you relax, Will. What can I do to ease your mind?”
Embarrassment coloured Will's cheeks pinker, spreading down to his chest. The only thing that had worked in his fantasies was Hannibal's voice. Hannibal waited patiently for Will's reply, though he didn't pull his hand away.
“Can you just. Talk to me?”
“And what shall I say?”
Pink turned to red. His cock twitched with interest just at the thought, growing to full hardness.
His reply was almost a whisper, “Just… I need to hear your voice.”
Hannibal inhaled sharply, resting his forehead on Will’s knee. With his free hand, he squeezed Will’s hip, stroked along his side. “I must confess something, Will.”
“Yeah?” Will brought one hand up to grip Hannibal’s forearm, the other still tangled in the sheets.
“My interest in helping you isn’t entirely professional.”
“You don’t say.”
Tilting his head, Hannibal rested his cheek on Will’s knee to look at him. “I do. I admit, I’ve wanted to touch you this way for some time.”
“That a fact?” It was said with more coyness than Will intended. Truth be told, he was stunned by how Hannibal’s words affected him. Will thought it was a little ironic how much he wanted to hear Hannibal speak, to hear his voice.
“Yes. I want you in all ways, Will. Mind and body and soul.” Slowly, Hannibal pressed his finger inside and Will gasped, arching a little. “You are exquisite. Brilliant and wild--” Hannibal shifted, looking down to look at the way Will squeezed around the digit, and he crooked it to brush over Will’s prostate.
“O~oh fuck, that feels-- ah!” Will panted as Hannibal drew his finger out and pushed back in. It really was different when it was someone else.
“How does it feel, Will?”
“Good it feels good keep going.”
“You spent so much time running from the edge, and now I find you hurtling toward it,” Hannibal said, twisting his finger. Will cried out, brows knitted with pleasure. “Pace yourself, Will. We’ve just begun.”
Again Hannibal’s finger drifted over that spot, rubbing lightly, then pressing down. Will bit back a moan, angling his hips to encourage Hannibal to press deeper, harder. Pushing Will back toward the precipice. “Ah, fuck, it definitely didn’t feel like this before.”
Pulling his arm loose from Will’s clutches, Hannibal eased the pressure with his finger, drawing out to just the tip.
“It could have. You can learn.” Hannibal’s voice had a hoarse quality to it, and he dipped his head down to skim his lips over Will’s thigh.
“You… you’re cheating, Doctor. Pretty sure, ah--! Prostate stimulation doesn’t usually involve… that.”
Hannibal kissed a little lower. “I’m merely trying to coax you into the proper mindset,” another kiss, even lower, “I’m using every technique at my disposal.” An open-mouthed kiss at the join of Will’s thigh and hip.
When Hannibal thrust his finger back in, it was joined by a second, but the stinging stretch was soothed by teeth and tongue as Hannibal brought his mouth to Will’s other thigh. He sucked and nibbled over Will’s skin, and Will huffed out a laugh through his moaning.
“I can’t possibly be that tasty.”
“Can’t you? I daresay I’ve never tasted anyone so delicious.”
Hannibal’s lips were relentless. So were his hands.
Each rub over the sensitive flesh inside pulled the most humiliating, boisterous moans from deep within Will’s body. He writhed and arched, chasing Hannibal’s fingers every time they pulled away. His cock leaked, flushed red with his arousal. He swore he could see the stars of his dream at the edge of his vision, and he was rushing toward climax again.
“Oh shit oh fuck, I’m gonna-- fuck!”
“No, not yet.” Again Hannibal removed his fingers, and Will whimpered, bereft, draping an arm over his eyes.
“Please, Hannibal. You were supposed to help me come, for fuck’s sake.”
“Believe me, you will.”
Will ached to touch his own cock. He needed relief. Release. All his nerve endings vibrated with pleasure, a thrumming, delightful sort of agony. He’d never felt anything like it before.
All of his muscles relaxed when he saw Hannibal’s hands drift toward him again. He spread his legs wider, opening himself up, inviting, but Hannibal’s fingers didn’t return to their probing. Will let out a frustrated sigh, lifting his feet to try and curve them behind Hannibal, to pull him closer.
Hannibal’s hands stroked up Will’s sides, over the plane of Will’s chest, down to his abdomen. Soft, gentle caresses that calmed him, and his legs relaxed. He still moaned at the contact, his own idle hands reaching for Hannibal’s arms, looking to ground himself in something.
“How do you feel now?”
Will sighed, weakly tugging at Hannibal’s sleeves. His muscles weren’t responding the way he wanted. “Kinda… sleepy?”
Taking both of Will’s hands in his own, Hannibal brought them up to kiss Will’s knuckles, then rubbed the stubble of his chin over them. “You’re doing very well, you know. I haven’t even had to restrain your hands.”
“Mmnh,” Will said, which was supposed to mean ‘next time.’
“Are you ready to begin again?”
“Please.”
Hannibal grabbed the prostate massager and slicked it with lube, rubbing any excess between Will’s cheeks. Will couldn’t hold back his gasp, sensitive over every inch of his body. He felt the tip of the massager glide along his hole, causing the muscles to twitch and shudder.
“Look at me, Will,” Hannibal said. There was sweat beaded on his forehead, and Will could feel Hannibal's hands tremble as they smoothed over Will’s body.
Will struggled to keep his eyes open. Meeting Hannibal’s gaze nearly undid him right then. Hannibal looked wrecked. Worshipful.
Through his hazy bliss, Will felt Hannibal prop one of Will’s legs up over his shoulder. “Next time, I would like to show you how beautiful you look when you’ve come undone. Relaxation becomes you.”
The massager was pushed in, and Will let out a wavering sigh. A slight adjustment and the sigh turned to another moan, and Will scrabbled for Hannibal’s shoulders, only able to reach the arm braced on the bed at his side. He clung to it as if for dear life.
Tremors wracked Will’s body, his muscles pulsating around the intrusion which served to rub the toy against his prostate with an exquisite, punishing force. His pulse pounded in his ears. He couldn’t feel his limbs.
Only Hannibal’s voice kept him from being lost to the fog of euphoria, urging him over the edge and into the depths of the roiling sea.
Hannibal adjusted himself to lean on his elbow, nosing along what he could reach of Will’s shoulder while his other hand continued its gentle pressure on the toy. Will grabbed at Hannibal’s hair. The flick of Hannibal’s tongue along Will’s collarbone felt like flames. Each push of the toy felt like adoration. Love.
He felt ravished.
He felt delirious.
When at last Will’s orgasm claimed him, his entire body shook violently and he cried out, unbalancing Hannibal to collapse over him. Hannibal tried to move, but Will trapped him with his limbs, locking Hannibal in place.
Trembling with the aftershocks, he whimpered as Hannibal gingerly removed the massager and set it aside. He managed to maneuver himself so they were both laying on the bed, facing each other.
Will was still wrapped around him. In that moment, it was the only thing he knew.
A hand stroked up and down Will’s back, while another rested on Will’s cheek. Something touched his forehead, and he realized that Hannibal had kissed it. Was still kissing him, down his nose, over his cheekbones, the corner of his mouth.
Oh.
Hannibal had been talking the whole time. Will tuned back in just in time to catch a litany of endearments, declarations of love, and then Hannibal captured Will’s lips with his own. Will felt surrounded by that nebulous cloud of euphoria once more.
They sighed into each other’s mouths. Every press of lips left Will leaning in for another, finally bringing Will back to himself. To Hannibal.
Will’s eyes felt heavy. It didn’t help that Hannibal’s hands felt so warm and comforting, still roaming everywhere Hannibal could reach.
“Holy shit.”
“Mm. Welcome back.”
“Did I fall asleep?”
“Not really, no. You were a bit overwhelmed, I think.”
“Understatement.”
“Perhaps. Do you believe me, now?”
“Perhaps. Asshole.”
“Rude.”
“You love me.”
Saying it out loud somehow made it terrifying. They had never spoken of it directly, not even when they grew comfortable speaking of anything else. Will tensed against Hannibal’s chest, hiding his face under Hannibal’s chin. It smelled pretty good there.
Hannibal tangled a hand into the hair at the back of Will’s head, pulling it back with a gentle tug. He tilted his head to plant a kiss on Will’s mouth, sucking on Will’s bottom lip.
“Despite my greatest efforts to the contrary, yes, I love you.”
Will managed a lopsided grin. “I’m devious that way, you know. Like a jellyfish. Barbed tentacles.”
Humming in agreement, Hannibal tugged Will’s head back further, exposing his throat. “An apt analogy indeed. Positively insidious.”
“You love me.”
“I love you.”
“Christ. I can’t breathe when you say it like that.” Breathing wasn’t that big of a deal anyway. Will arched against Hannibal as he kissed down Will’s throat, worrying the flesh between his teeth.
Hannibal’s erection pressed against Will’s leg.
“H-hey,” Will said, pushing at Hannibal’s shoulders.
Hannibal continued his assault on Will’s neck.
“I said hey, Hannibal. Wait.”
Heavy-lidded eyes looked up into Will’s, shining with adoration. Will had to look away to focus.
“You’re still hard.”
“It’s all right.”
“N-no, it’s not. I should--”
“Will,” Hannibal sighed, shifting to pull Will into his arms, kissing the top of his head. “Tonight was about you. You’re exhausted. I promise you can play with my erection tomorrow.”
“Oh my god. You ruined it.”
Hannibal laughed, and Will felt warmth prickle in his chest, squeezing his heart. “Is it possible for me to repair the damage?”
Will lifted his leg to drape over Hannibal’s while he considered. A slow smile spread across his face. “Get me a dog.”
“Absolutely not.”
“It’s the only way you can un-ruin it.”
“Then I’m afraid we’re at an impasse.”
“I love you, you know.”
A pause. A quick kiss on Will’s nose.
“I may be open to negotiation.”