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Some part of Will, even if it's just a tiny little subconscious thought, tucked away behind images of bodies and blood and everything, knows that Hannibal is dangerous. He knows when the doctor admits to helping Abigail hide the body, and he knows when he watches the older man's fingers just barely brush the blade on his desk when he confronts him about it. He knows by the way that Hannibal is so reserved, protected and guarded, but he chooses to ignore it. He ignores it - that small little thought buried deep in his mind - because for the first time in a long time, he sees the possibility of an actual friendship with someone. Hell, maybe even something more than a friendship, if he lets his mind linger on the idea of it for too long.
And it's because of that possibility - among other things - that Will decides not to call Jack at the exact moment that Hannibal admits to hiding the body and keeping Abigail’s secret. There's a small part of Will that knows that it's probably not the worst thing that Hannibal has done, but he chooses not to think about that. Instead, he finds himself crossing the room, actually turning his back to Hannibal, which may not be the smartest thing to do, if the doctor really is dangerous, but he's never given Will a reason not to trust him. Not yet, at least. Hell, even when Will asked him about Abigail, Hannibal was completely honest. He didn't try to lie or hide the truth. So he's not all bad, right?
Will vaguely registers Hannibal murmuring "we're her fathers now" over the roaring in his mind, but he hears it, and he turns to look over his shoulder at that. The older man is closer now, taking a couple more steps to close the gap between them. "We can tell no one," He adds among other words that get lost inside Will's mind. Will turns away again at that, trying to come up with a decent response or something to say or anything, and then suddenly, Hannibal is placing a hand heavily on Will's shoulder, closing the gap between them.
"What we're doing here is the right thing," Hannibal says, hand squeezing Will's shoulder slightly and Will - as much as he doesn't want to, as much as he doesn't want to give in that easily - turns at that.
"Are we?" He asks, voice small. Part of him - the part that knows about the danger of Hannibal - doesn't want to argue it, but he has to. He can't help it.
Hannibal seems to let his question sink in and settle for a moment before nodding, slow, calculated as always, "Yes."
Will lets out a deep, shaky breath, "How can you be so sure?"
"Because we both know that Abigail doesn't deserve to be burned at the stake, and that's exactly what will happen if they know the truth," Hannibal replies almost immediately, and Will notices that the doctor is always passionate when he talks about the young girl. He cares for her - genuinely cares for her and goes out of his way to show it - and Will can't help but respect that because he does too. "Regardless of what she did or what happened, she's good. And we both know that. Nobody else sees that, but we do, Will."
"But she-"
"Yes, she killed him," Hannibal replies, matter-of-factly, "But like I said, she did so in self defense, just as you and I have in the past. She's not so different from us."
"So you're suggesting we take her under our wing," Will asks, though he already knows the answer to his question.
"Haven't we already?" Hannibal simply asks in return, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a small smile. "You trust her, Will. You feel connected to her, which is why you haven't voiced your concern to Jack yet." Hannibal is suddenly closer to him at that, which seemed impossible before, but now his hand is snaking down Will's arm, gripping slightly once he reaches his wrist and he's so close that Will can practically taste his cologne when he breaths in.
"I trust you, too," Will breaths out, mouth working on its own volition. He looks up at that and he can see the spark in Hannibal's eyes when he says it.
"Yes, I know," Hannibal returns, body shifting impossibly closer, and before Will knows it, his other hand is moving up to cup his chin and then lips are there, pressing softly, tentatively onto his own. He accepts the kiss almost immediately - which he should be more embarrassed about, but he'll worry about that later - and leans into it, eyes slipping closed. Hannibal's touch is careful, methodical, and Will realizes that he hadn't expected anything less from him.
The kiss is over just as quick as it began, though, Hannibal's touch still lingering on Will's face, and it takes him a moment to open his eyes in return, mouth still hanging open, gazing up at him. There are a milling thoughts swarming through his head, but he can't seem to form any of them into words, so instead Will manages to rasp out the simplest thing that comes to mind. "Do you kiss all of your patients?" It's a joke, something lighthearted to dissolve any tension between them, but the Will's surprise, Hannibal doesn't laugh. He doesn't even smile.
"You're not my patient, Will," He murmurs instead, which causes Will's chest to tighten. It's eerily similar to something that Alana had said to him before he had kissed her, only - he realizes quickly - this kiss isn't ending in the other party telling him that they're not good for one another. His chest tightens.
Hannibal releases his grip on Will's wrist and drops the hand on his face at that, even taking a step back, preparing to leave him be. Will is sure that Hannibal knows what he's doing, leaving it up to him to make the next move. It only takes a split second of self doubt before he's lunging forward after him, grabbing onto his wrist - Will doesn't think about how it's the first time he's touched Hannibal like that - and spinning him around to crash their lips together.
It's lacking in finesse and it's unplanned and rough, but it's good, and the gasping noise that Hannibal makes right before their lips meet is completely worth anything that might happen afterward. The kiss is completely unlike the first one - there aren't any tentative touches or soft lips - but instead it's hard, demanding, and most of all, hungry. Hannibal kisses back like he's starving for it, lips immediately responding to Will's, mouth open and waiting. His hands quickly find their place on either side of Will's head, holding onto him possessively as their mouths move together. And Will, though he was the one to initiate the kiss, takes a moment to compose himself, one hand still gripping Hannibal's wrist, the other hanging uselessly at his side. The ferocity of the kiss catches him off-guard, but it's welcomed. It's needed, after all of the pressure of their previous conversation. It's as if Hannibal had been waiting for permission to kiss him the way that he is, and Will can't complain, especially when the doctor's fingers begin carding through his hair.
He tastes just how Will had expected - dark and musky and rich - and he lets the flavor flood his mouth with enthusiasm, pressing forward into Hannibal's body. For the first time in a long time, Will's mind is clear, slate wiped clean, and the only thing he can think about is Hannibal and how his body feels and his tastes and how he wishes that there was a bed in this room...
Will's thoughts are cut short, though, by a sudden sharp tug on his hair. He fights it at first, eyes opening wide to stare into Hannibal's when he pulls away, but the doctor just smiles slightly, leaning in to kiss below Will's ear, stubble scraping his neck. "Trust me," He whispers, voice gravely and low into Will's ear, "I will not hurt you. And I won't do anything you don't want. I promise." And there's that danger again, the one that Will had been thinking about earlier, only this time it doesn't worry him like it should. Instead, he finds himself aroused by the low voice whispering in his ear, promising not to hurt him, and part of Will wishes that he would.
Will can't help but close his eyes at that, Hannibal's voice stirring something deep in the pit of his stomach and he actually shudders before nodding quickly in response, allowing him to continue. Within a second, Hannibal is pressing him up against the wall and tugging on his hair again, causing Will to arch his back, exposing his neck in response. He sucks in a gasp of air at the sharp pain, but sighs it out in a moan when Hannibal's mouth connects with his bared neck, sucking gently on the skin.
"More?" Hannibal grits the question out, accentuating it with a slight nip at his neck, just above his collar bone.
"Please," Will whines out before he even has a chance to think about it, and then Hannibal's mouth is on him again, kissing and biting and sucking harder, up toward his jaw line. He makes it back to Will's lips eventually, biting at his bottom one as well before kissing him again, hard and rough.
As they kiss, Will can feel the hand slowly moving up his chest, unbuttoning his shirt at it goes and he can't help but groan into Hannibal's mouth at the thought of what's to come. It's almost too much, but then it isn't, and Will finds himself arching forward, wishing for more contact. "Fuck the shirt," Will mutters out, and Hannibal freezes at that, silently asking him if he's sure. And when Will nods once, it only takes a second before he's ripping the rest of the shirt open, popping off the top three buttons to expose his bare flesh.
Will expects lips or teeth, kissing and biting their way up - or down - his chest, but instead, Hannibal resumes kissing him, hand sliding upward instead of down, the opposite of what Will had been expecting. He involuntarily thrusts his hips forward at that, earning a small chuckle from the man above him. "Patience, Will," Hannibal murmurs out, silencing any protest with another kiss and within a moment, Will understands why.
His eyes fly open when the hand encloses around his neck, images of dead, strangled bodies flashing to the forefront of his mind. He even attempts to pull away, but Hannibal holds him securely in place, eyes silently asking Will to trust him. And though his mind is anything but clear now, Will actually manages to take a deep breath and close his eyes, trying to do as Hannibal asks. Trying to trust him. The hand is firm at first, but it doesn't stop him from breathing, instead just holds him securely in place, and it isn't until Will manages a small, tentative nod that Hannibal tightens his grip.
It's just barely constricting, but it cuts off his air flow, and Will instantly panics, hands flying up to grip at Hannibal's forearms. He doesn't let up though, and instead presses his body even more into Will's, mouth brushing next to his ear again. "You're alright," Hannibal murmurs out in a surprisingly calm voice. Will doesn't know if it should scare him even more or not, but he doesn't have time to think about it before the hands around his next are tightening even more. "Relax," The voice in his ear murmurs again before nipping at his lobe, and since there isn't really much else he can do - Hannibal is much stronger than he'd imagined - he does. Will feels his body slouching and almost expects to hit the ground, head reeling from lack of oxygen, but instead, Hannibal holds him up, keeping the pressure for a couple more seconds before releasing it.
Will's entire body heaves when he finally takes in a gasping breath and then, when he finally feels confident that he can move again without collapsing, his own actions surprise him. Instead of shoving Hannibal away or getting upset at the practically non-consensual breath play, Will lunges forward, lips searching frantically for Hannibal's. Maybe it's the adrenaline, or maybe it's the fact that Hannibal knows him better than himself and knew that he needed it - that he needed to give up control - but either way, Will can't help the way that he clings onto the other man's body, kissing him as if it's the only thing keeping him alive.
Will can feel Hannibal smirk against his lips before he’s leaning down to bite at his lower one, and then, without any warning, he's grabbing underneath Will’s ass and lifting him up, using his weight to situate Will in the air between him and the wall. Will groans at the movement, legs instinctively wrapping around Hannibal's waist for balance, and he allows him to take. Hannibal's mouth is at his neck again, this time rougher, hungry as he kisses and licks and bites and Will knows that his entire upper body is going to be littered in marks in the morning but he can't seem to bring himself to care. What he does care about, however, is the lack of friction between the two of them. The position that they're in offers almost no relief for Will's now straining erection, trapped uselessly between them, and what's worse is he can feel Hannibal's, too, just barely brushing through fabric where their hips meet.
"Need you," Will gasps out between wet kisses and sharp nips at his neck. "Please - ah - Hannibal-"
Hannibal growls in response at that, face buried in Will's neck yet again where he nips at the skin a couple more times before reluctantly releasing Will from his grip. They part and share a breathless glance for a moment and then Hannibal is muttering "couch" and Will is practically dragging him there - anything to get away from the wall and toward somewhere that will offer him more relief. He feels like a teenage boy, stumbling backwards onto the small couch with shaky legs, but he doesn't have time to even think about being embarrassed because then Hannibal is hovering above him and oh god-
Will's jeans and underwear are discarded in a matter of seconds and then his brain is short-circuiting because Hannibal is leaning in, eyes heavy as they watch him, and nipping sharply at a hip bone. The sudden bite - along with the image of his psychiatrist so close to his groin - causes Will's hips to arch off of the leather couch and Hannibal smirks.
He's slow, careful, and teasing, which honestly was to be expected, if Will thinks about it. He takes his time, hands running up and down Will's bare thighs as he kisses at his jutting hip bones, biting the skin and soothing it with his tongue as he moves down into the valley between them. Hannibal pauses, just above Will's weeping cock and it isn't until then that Will realizes that he's still maintaining eye contact, watching Will with careful patience. Will's hand moves on its own volition at that - at the look in Hannibal's eyes - and finds its place in Hannibal's hair, mussing it at as he grips tight. He realizes, somewhere in the back of his mind, that it's the first time that he's actually touched Hannibal since this started, and now he can't stop. When the doctor doesn't push him away or even wince at the tugging at his hair, Will's other hand finds its way to the back of his neck.
"Please..." He mutters, head finally falling back, breaking eye contact. If he were still looking, he would have seen the small, fond smile that crosses Hannibal's face at his frustration - at the way he's practically falling apart without even being touched yet - but he doesn't. Instead, all he hears is the soft huff of breath before Hannibal leans in, taking him into his mouth.
"Jesus-" Will groans, voice catching in his throat, hips arching up. His grip tightens in Hannibal's hair, which causes Hannibal's fingers to tighten on his thighs and for a moment Will wonders if he's beginning to like the pain. The moment is over, however, when he feels himself hit the back of his psychiatrist's throat and he moans again, loud and unabashed. He thrusts his hips up again, and it only takes a second before Hannibal uses an arm to bar them, keeping Will still and pinned down to the couch. It shouldn't turn him on as much as it does, his doctor taking control, holding him down, but it does. God, it does.
So much, in fact, that within another minute of Hannibal practically worshipping his cock - paying special attention to the head, which causes Will to let out these delicious little ah's - he's on the verge of coming already. "Han - ah - Hannibal," Will breaths out, tugging on his hair just slightly, "If you don't stop, I'm going to-"
And just like that, he's gone, pulling his mouth slowly off of Will and wow-
Hannibal has still got his suit on - his clean suit, tie still immaculate - but his hair is disheveled from Will's hands, mouth gaping open wide and dripping with saliva and precome as he pulls away, panting. And his eyes, his eyes are hungry as they bear into Will's. He's always so put together, so composed - and even now, he still is in some ways - but Will can see the mask slowly chipping away. It looks dangerous, but Will knew that already. He’s starting to enjoy the danger. His cock jerks at the sight.
"You keeping your clothes on or...?" Will finally manages breathlessly, attempting to break the silence between them with dry humor. What he doesn't expect though, is for Hannibal to respond by loosening his tie, then leaning down over him, arms barring either side of Will's shoulders.
He looks at Will as if he wants to say something - to ask him if he's okay with this, if this is what he wants - but instead, he just stares down, seemingly speechless. Will takes the opportunity to assert himself, reaching forward to grab Hannibal's tie and drag him down for a searing kiss. It apparently seems to answer Hannibal's silent question as well, because he responds immediately, sucking Will's bottom lip into his mouth while shucking off his own blazer and tossing it onto the floor next to them.
Will's hands are up and under Hannibal's shirt and vest in a matter of seconds, mapping out the expanse of skin on his chest. But as soon as Hannibal is there, he's gone, sitting up abruptly and pulling away from him. Will opens his mouth to argue, but is cut short as he watches Hannibal stand, throwing off his tie and vest, followed by his shirt as soon as it's unbuttoned. Shoes and pants are next, and within a moment, Hannibal is naked in front of him and Will is drinking in the sight of him, allowing himself to stare regardless of any future embarrassment.
He doesn't have much time to take it in, however, before Hannibal is moving again, back to his knees in front of him. Will would throw his head back, frustrated and anxious because of how horribly through Hannibal is being, but he can't. Not with the way that the doctor is holding his gaze as he leans in, biting at his hips once again. They're sore from Hannibal's teeth already, but the burn feels good. It anchors him down to the couch, and he actually has to bite back a moan at the dull pain.
Hannibal looks predatory as he crawls up his body, eyes never leaving Will's, even when he leans in to nip at his skin. Will knows that he's going to have a trail of bruises in the morning, if not an hour, but he can't care, not with the way that Hannibal is looking at him. And definitely not with the way that Hannibal pulls sharply at the flesh of his collar bone once they're level, just on the verge of breaking the skin.
"Hannibal-" Will starts, attempting to encourage him to move faster - his cock is painful now, leaking between their bodies - but then there's suddenly a slick finger probing at his entrance (when did Hannibal get lube?) and his entire body practically melts. His face nuzzles into Hannibal's neck, cheeks flushing and he manages to mutter out, "Don't you dare go slow. Please, for the love of God." It’s probably the most he’s spoken since that first kiss.
"Will-" Hannibal starts to argue, even as he presses the finger inside.
"I know," Will groans, cutting him off. His face is still buried in Hannibal's neck and he knows he'll probably regret it later but he needs him now. "But I - ah - I need you." He feels Hannibal pause, as if he's considering it, before he presses the finger in further, curling it up at just the right angle and-
Will clutches onto his shoulders when he grazes his prostate, his entire body shaking with anticipation now. "Please, just... Take me."
And apparently that does the trick, because that’s when something just snaps inside of Hannibal. Suddenly, there's a second finger alongside the first and they're both craning up, brushing his prostate with every stroke. Will is a quivering mess underneath Hannibal within seconds; moaning into his neck and thrusting his hips desperately back toward him. Normally he'd be embarrassed at his own actions - he sounds like something out of a porno - but it's Hannibal and he's so close and he can't help it. Not now. The initial burn begins to dull out into a small ache, and Hannibal seems to sense it because he's pulling his fingers out before Will even has a chance to complain.
If Will had the ability to sit up - to open his eyes and look at Hannibal right now - he'd be able to see him tearing open the condom and rolling it onto himself, but he sticks to the slick sound of it, unable to bring himself to pull away from his neck. "It's going to hurt," Hannibal warns, voice low. Rough. It sends a shiver through Will's body.
"I don't care," He groans, accentuating it with a small bite of his own at Hannibal's neck.
"Good," Hannibal grits out, and at that, he's pressing inside, burying himself to the hilt in one swift movement and causing Will to cry out, blunt fingernails digging into his shoulders.
For a moment, Will fears that Hannibal isn't going to listen to him. When the doctor stills above him, head pressed into his chest, unmoving, Will almost panics. He hadn't realized how badly he needed (wanted) to be owned, controlled, until Hannibal wasn't moving. "Han-" Will starts to protest, voice barely above a whisper, and that's when he's silenced by a searing kiss and a sharp thrust of Hannibal's hips.
Will's fingers find themselves digging into Hannibal's shoulders again at that, back arching up at the dull, burning pain of Hannibal's cock filling him up again and again. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Will wonders how a simple - heated - conversation about Abigail Hobbs had turned into this, but when Hannibal bites into his chest and snaps his hips forward, Will can't bring himself to care. Instead, he finds himself burying his head into Hannibal's neck again, letting out little breathy moans and whimpers, clutching onto him for dear life.
"Hannibal, please," Will murmurs out into Hannibal's neck on a particularly hard thrust, and he doesn't even know what he's begging for, but apparently Hannibal does. He moves quickly, pulling away from Will to grab roughly at his hair. He tugs hard, hard enough to pull Will's head back, exposing his neck, earning a whimper from him as he does so. Will's body is shaking underneath his weight and relentless hips.
"You're beautiful like this," Hannibal growls out, voice surprisingly composed even as he fucks Will into the couch. Normally, Will would shy away from the compliment - there's no way he can look beautiful like this; fucked raw and trembling underneath Hannibal - but not now. Not with the way that his brain is hazy with lust - and a little bit of fear - from the look in Hannibal's eyes.
Hannibal leans slightly forward at that, free hand clasping around Will's neck again, much like he had earlier, and this time Will doesn't panic. His eyes still fly open, staring straight into Hannibal’s, but this time he doesn't scramble at his hands. Instead, he just tightens his grip on Hannibal's shoulders and mewls at the pressure on his neck.
"You're doing so well," Hannibal praises lowly, leaning in to bite sharply at the exposed skin on his neck, just above his own hand. The sudden pain causes will to cry out - he's sure that Hannibal just broke the skin - but again, he doesn't shy away from the contact. Hannibal tightens his grip at that, cutting off Will's air flow.
"I want you to come like this," Hannibal grits out, lips brushing against Will's ear as he fucks into him, "Can you do that? Untouched?"
Will wants to nod, wants to comply by answering him, but all he manages is a choked out moan at the animalistic look on Hannibal's face. If Will knew better, he'd say that the man above him was wrecked too, hair falling forward in front of his face, just a small hint of blood on his bottom lip, but Hannibal is still composed, like always. His hand tightens impossibly around his neck.
"Come for me, Will," He murmurs, nipping at his earlobe, "Come on."
And that's all it takes for Will, just those few words of encouragement and the constricting hand around his neck, before he's spilling between them, mouth open in a silent, breathless scream.
Hannibal immediately releases his neck at that, body hunching forward as he continues fucking into Will, milking him through his orgasm. Will's body eventually becomes limp, boneless underneath him, and he allows Hannibal to use him, hips snapping forward sharply. There isn't a rhythm to it anymore, just shallow, quick thrusts, and it doesn't take long before Hannibal's head falls forward, pressing into Will's chest.
When he comes, Hannibal's teeth sink into Will's collarbone again, pulling hard enough to draw blood, and Will clutches onto him, riding it out with a small cry.
They lie there like that for a long moment, Hannibal's head pressed into Will's chest, each man catching his breath, coming down from orgasm. It isn't until Hannibal actually moves, sitting up and pulling out, that Will realizes just how much his body aches. His hips feel raw, bruised from Hannibal's teeth, and he can feel the sharp pain of the two bites throbbing on his collarbone and neck. His head is still light from the lack of oxygen, and Will has to shake it back and forth a couple of times before the room stops spinning.
Hannibal is standing now, cleaning himself off and pulling his underwear on, and when Will finally feels strong enough, he sits up as well. To his surprise, Hannibal stops his movement and shoots him a small smile when he pulls himself up. He wordlessly grabs his handkerchief from the pocket of his discarded blazer and climbs back onto the couch, straddling Will's knees.
"Hey," Will grits out. His voice sounds rough, like he's been swallowing broken glass.
"I'm terribly sorry, Will," Hannibal murmurs, eyes apologetic as he leans forward to dab at the bit of blood pooling at his chest.
Will manages a small, lopsided smile in return. "I wasn't complaining."
Hannibal pauses at that, head cocking to the side before he smiles as well, "No, I suppose you weren't."
"Though I do look like I just got the shit kicked out of me..." Will muses, wincing slightly as Hannibal resumes dabbing at his bruised neck.
He pulls away again, staring down at Will's bruised body before correcting him, "You look remarkable."
Will wants to laugh, but there's no joking tone in Hannibal's voice. His eyes are serious. Will swallows hard, suddenly feeling horribly self-conscious. "Yeah?"
Hannibal just simply nods in return, moving down Will's body to clean the come off of his stomach and chest. A silence falls over the room once Hannibal steps away from Will to resume pulling his own clothes back on. Will can't help but stare for a moment, silently wondering how a man so composed, so put together, had managed to make him fall apart like he had, but then again, it's not really a surprise. Will knows that he would do anything that Hannibal asked, and while that thought should scare him, it doesn't.
"Would you like to come over for dinner?" Hannibal asks at last, breaking the silence as he hands will his shirt.
Will pulls it on, wincing slightly at the way his joints ache. The top three buttons have been ripped off, so he only does the bottom ones, silently wondering how stupid he looks. "I should probably go home and get cleaned up," He replies, even though it pains him to turn down the offer. He feels dirty, and he probably looks it, too. Besides, he should probably figure out a way to cover up the marks littering his body.
"Nonsense," Hannibal argues, as if the answer is clear as day, "You can shower while I cook. I'm sure we can find you a change of clothes, too."
"Hannibal-"
"I insist," He replies, cutting Will off before he has a chance to argue. And there it is - that little dangerous glint in Hannibal's eyes. His stomach drops at the look, and if he hadn't just had the best orgasm in his life, he's certain that he'd probably be hard again. Will hadn't been aware at how much he enjoyed the mysterious danger of his psychiatrist, but it's not the first time that Hannibal has shown him something new about himself.
Will manages a nod at that, looking up at him, "I'd like that."