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"You know what to do, Will"
Those had been the words that had led Will to be where he is now: on his knees between Hannibal Lecter's legs, in the middle of his office, mouth full of his cock, moaning around it, with his own straining against his pants.
Jack had made it very clear in a not-so-subtle way exactly what it was he expected of Will.
"Are you really willing to do what it takes to catch Hannibal, Will?"
"I would do anything. I'm doing everything I can."
“Are you really?"
"Do you still have doubts about my character, Jack?"
"It's taking too long."
"The wait is part of the reward, Jack. Hannibal is not someone one easily meddles with. You have to lure someone like him. I'm luring him."
"By making yourself the bait."
"Yes."
"Then maybe you should go all the way with it and really give him what you and I both know he wants. "
And of course Will knew what he meant. Jack had asked, demanded and taken a lot from Will over the years, with no concern for Will's health and wellbeing, so it shouldn't have come as a shock when he suggested that Will whored himself out to Hannibal, by using the man's attraction for Will as a weapon.
Will wasn't blind anymore. He noticed the way Hannibal looked at him, had always looked at him, really, right from the start. The lingering stares at Will's lips and ass; the touches on his shoulders, arms and waist; his apparent lack of respect for Will's personal space and possessiveness. All of it led to the one thing Will had always avoided to think about, to acknowledge. Will could deal with Hannibal's fascination and obsession, Will liked it. He liked it a lot, craved it even. Being the object of desire of someone so powerful, strong and capable filled Will with an emotion he was afraid to recognize.
But was Will ready to deal with Hannibal's physical attraction as well? And was he willing to face the emotions that that awakened in himself?
Will didn’t want to know, he didn’t need to. Jack was right - Hannibal wanted him. And using those feelings towards Will could make the process of catching Hannibal once and for all a lot quicker. And if using Will’s body was what it took, then that was just part of the lure.
So, if Will started to reciprocate Hannibal’s touches, letting his eyes roam over his body unabashedly - the broadness of his shoulders, the pure strength of the coiled muscles on his arms, the veins on his forearms as he rolled up his sleeves while he cooked, his large hands kneading and preparing the food - Will allowed himself to take his fill. It was part of the job. Of the game. It was what Jack wanted.
That's what he told himself.
Will chokes on Hannibal’s cock, who groans at the sound, and pulls back to take a breath. Of course this asshole has a big cock. It’s not enough that he is rich, incredibly smart, cultured and knows hundreds of different ways to maim and kill a man; he also has to have a big dick to boot.
“Careful, Will. Don’t rush it, just open your beautiful mouth wider and taste it. Allow to lose yourself in the feeling of my cock spearing your pretty lips,” Hannibal says in his husky, baritone voice. Will looks up at Hannibal’s face from where he is kneeling between his knees. He fakes it well but Will can tell Hannibal is very turned on by the sight of him on his knees, red lips shiny with spit and precome. Will plays it up in his favor. For as highly as Hannibal regards himself, so different and better than others, when it comes to Will, he is ruled by his cock just like the most average of men.
You have a pretty face, Will. Use it in your favor. Well, one can’t disobey uncle Jack.
Will swipes his tongue slowly over his bottom lip, licking the trail of precome and biting his bottom lip while staring submissively at Hannibal. It’s too much, Will knows, and he also knows that Hannibal will eventually catch on. But right now, the man doesn’t seem to care one bit, with his usually perfectly combed hair with strands falling over his forehead, making him look younger and wilder; collar open and shirt unbuttoned, hairy chest on display, the perfect picture of masculinity. He looks hot, Will will give him that.
Will opens his mouth wide and sucks on what he manages to fit of Hannibal’s cock in his mouth. He wraps a hand around the thick base and strokes alongside his sucks around the head and shaft, rubbing the thick cockhead over his tongue, really feeling it as Hannibal has told him to. Will hollows his cheeks and moans around the hot, throbbing cock in his mouth, surprised at himself over it. Where did that moan come from? And why Hannibal’s subsequent groan - almost a growl- makes Will’s cock jump and harden in his pants? And oh my God, is he hard?
Will wills all of those thoughts to go away, now is not the time for thinking, not while he's giving head. Will hears Hannibal’s harsh pants, his hands gently but firmly settling over his head, wrapping his curls around his fist to one side to be able to see Will sucking his cock better. Allow me to put on a show for you, daddy.
Will also doesn’t want to know where thatcame from.
Will bobs his head faster over Hannibal’s cock, jaw uncomfortably wide, trying to accomodate the girth and size of the man. He sucks on Hannibal’s balls, covering them with spit, not giving a care to how debauched he looks, probably like he has come straight out of a porno. Hannibal moans and with the hand he has in his hair, pulls him away from his balls and back to his cock, big hand guiding Will’s head.
“You never cease to surprise me, Will. I would’ve never imagined that you were so gifted at this,” Hannibal says breathlessly, voice filled with wonder.
Will swirls his tongue around the shaft, throat working to take and swallow around every inch, slowly letting the cock slip free from his lips with a wet pop. “Yours isn’t the first one I’ve sucked,” Will smirks up at Hannibal and is taken by surprise as the man growls and grabs Will’s head with both hands, shoving his cock back into Will’s willing mouth. Hannibal is fucking his face, and it shouldn’t be this fucking hot, but it is. Will is practically whoring himself out to the Chesapeake Ripper to try to gain his confidence, taking his cock deep into his throat for what Jack called "the good of all" and it should feel humiliating and debasing, and that's the thing - it does; but it feels so good, so right. Hannibal tastes like sweat and musk and something singularly him, and it's driving Will crazy. Will has grown used to having Hannibal in his mind all the time. Filling his head every waking and sleeping moment; and now he's thinking that he could get used to having him inside his body, letting him in, being overpowered by the man's undeniable presence and strength.
Will relaxes his jaw and lets Hannibal fuck his face. Will is rusty but he still knows how to treat a cock properly, especially with men like Hannibal. Men used to be in charge, dominant, craving power and obedience, and command all to their knees at the flick of a finger. Will seems to be a magnet for men like that. He doesn’t know if it is his boyish looks or demeanor, but he knows how a lot of those men like Will - feisty but pliant, demanding and wanton but submissive and knowing the right time to shut up, spread his legs and take it.
"You're taking me so well, Will. You were made for this, you were made for me," Hannibal growls possessively, and Will whimpers. There is something really sensual about listening to Hannibal's dirty talk.
Hannibal pulls Will off his cock by his hair and kisses him deeply, sloppily, tasting himself in Will's mouth. Their first kiss had been soft, tentative; Hannibal's arm around his waist, holding him as if Will was something precious. It had felt too intimamente...too good. But this Will can do. He can open his mouth and suck on Hannibal's tongue just as good as he had on Hannibal's cock; he can let Hannibal devour and claim his mouth and body in this primal dance they've been dancing since they first saw each other, and just let go.
Hannibal grips Will's sides and swiftly pulls him to his feet. The taller man guides Will to climb on top of his table and position himself on his knees. Will takes off his pants, lewd smile splayed on his lips, tucking a strand of curl behind his ear. Will climbs onto the table and positions his ass near the edge, lifting the end of his shirt so Hannibal can see the dimples on the small of his back, arching it, spreading his legs, presenting himself for Hannibal.
Hannibal, with this shirt open, displaying his broad pecs, his hard stomach. It’s funny to think about it but Hannibal is built almost like a jock, and Will tries to stifle a laugh at the image of Hannibal wearing bomber jackets and chugging beer.
Will feels Hannibal’s big hands touching his ass; lets out a low moan when he feels the man’s lips kissing his asscheeks, rubbing his stubble over it. Hannibal spreads Will’s ass and Will moans at the action of being so exposed. It’s frightening. It’s exhilarating.
“Go on Dr. Lecter...lick my pussy."
Hannibal makes a choked sound and Will looks over his shoulder. The man looks completely feral, his demeanor completely changed, person suit gone. Will said that on impulse, having no idea this would be one of Hannibal's kinks but somehow knowing it, all the same.
Hannibal licks and sucks on Will's hole, hands squeezing Will's fat cheeks, eating Will's ass if he is drunk on Will's taste.
And of course Hannibal can eat ass like a professional.
Hannibal spears Will open with his tongue, hands holding Will's asscheeks open, fingers digging into soft flesh, tongue circling Will's tight pucker, and delving into his wet heat. Will can only whimper and roll his hips back against Hannibal's face, urging him to fuck his tongue in deeper.
It shouldn't feel this good, Will shouldn't like this. Will has no choice but to take it, he is doing this to arrest Hannibal; it's not about himself. But Will isn’t sure about anything right now, not when Hannibal's mouth is claiming him this way.
"You have a delicious pussy, Will. So wet, so tight, made to be filled with cock, don't you think? Your pink, little hole was pulling my tongue in so desperately, you need it bad, don't you?" Hannibal is getting in the mood. He sounds completely gone and different. The real beast coming out.
"Just fuck me, Hannibal. Just put that big dick inside me, you stupid man," Will says in between moans. He wonders if they should go bareback, if he should feel the hot flesh of Hannibal's thick rod stretching him open, molding his body as he had Will's mind, but better not, maybe some barriers are still needed. Will hears the sound of a plastic wrap ripping and he’s grateful he hasn’t turned around to see Hannibal doing it with his teeth and then putting it over his cock, because he might've come right then and there.
Will wonders if he should give Jack an extensive detail.
"Report, Will."
"He put me on my knees and made me choke on his dick. Then he ate me out and made me momentarily see stars. And for last, I straddled his lap and bounced on his cock like a two dollar whore who owned her pimp some money and it made me feel so fucking good. And I'll continue to do this everyday, for the good of the investigation. Don't worry, Uncle Jack."
Hannibal uses his precome as lube to open Will up for him, and god it makes Will feel so cheap to be spread this way for Hannibal. For Dr. Lecter. For the Chesapeake Ripper.
Hannibal sits on his desk chair and manhandles Will onto his lap. Will follows easily. Pliant and needy and begging to feel it. To feel Hannibal on him, in him and around him. To be embraced by his strong arms and feel safe in the arms of the devil. For him to make Will take it and rearrange Will's insides with his dick.
When Hannibal enters him, it is unlike anything Will has ever felt before. Intense. Overwhelming. The sheer emotion of being joined this way makes Will tremble. Will wants a hard fuck, he wants to satisfy Hannibal, to have him use his body as he pleases. Will needs the distance, he can’t fall. He can’t fail. He can’t fall for Hannibal. Will wants to be fucked from behind, to not have to see the adoration and love in Hannibal's eyes. Will wants. Will doesn’t want it. Will can’t want it. So Will closes his eyes and bounces on Hannibal's cock, swirling his hips and squeezing his inner muscles around the thickness inside his body. Hannibal's hand is around his waist and the other one is clutching his ass, kneading its fatness.
Hannibal kisses and licks his neck, murmuring words like "perfect, exquisite, made for this, born for this." Will tries to drown the words and just ride the dick hitting his prostate so perfectly, to focus on the size and on how it fills him perfectly and how after he first met Hannibal he had begun to believe in soulmates and no, stop, stop. Just be a hole for Hannibal. Just be his pretty, enamored boy. Just be a weapon for Jack. Just be the bait. Don't fall for Hannibal.
Hannibal's thrusts - till then, deep, slow and thorough - grow erratic, faster and harder. Hannibal is bouncing Will like a ragdoll on his lap, and Will's moans become more high-pitched, his eyes glassy, his breathing ragged. Will fucks his ass back onto Hannibal's cock, impaling himself on the perfect, delicious length. Hannibal lifts Will off his cock, takes off the condom and strokes his cock, aiming it to come over Will's belly.
"No, in my pussy, fill my pussy. C'mon, give me that come, big boy," Will rubs Hannibal's cock between his cheeks, teasing him with his heat but not giving it to him. Hannibal grows and grabs Will’s wide hips, positioning the tip of his bare cock against Will's entrance. Hannibal comes all over Will's hole and thighs, body shaking and chest rumbling deeply.
It is fucking amazing.
Hannibal strokes Will's cock, once, twice, and Will comes over Hannibal's perfect belly.
Will rests his head on Hannibal's shoulder, catching his breath. He shivers when he feels Hannibal's arms wrap around his waist, chest and bellies covered in sweat, sticking together. Hannibal trails kisses over his shoulder, neck and ear, and Will stops himself when he realizes he is peppering Hannibal's jawline with kisses and rubbing himself on him like a cat.
It is too much. It has all been too much, and now Will doesn’t know what to feel. He has never known, when it comes to Hannibal, while also knowing at the same time. That's how it has always been with them: darkness, then perfect clarity. Knowing and not knowing; love and hate mixed with hope and misery, with home and despair, the most lucid confusion. An endless streaming of contradictions. Identically different. Oxymorons.
"You're as beautiful in your submission and despair as you are in your wildness, Will. A beautiful siren. How many men have fallen at your feet?" Hannibal asks, rough hands caressing his skin.
The fogginess in Will's mind clears. Will can’t allow himself to wonder and to question. He needs to do what has to be done, despite what his heart tells him, despite what he wants. It will kill Will inside, leave him broken and bare, raw and wounded, but he can’t let the monster get away.
Here, sitting naked on Hannibal's lap, the man's come pooling on his thighs and asscheeks, deliciously sore and filthy, Will knows what he will eventually do.
"Just one," Will smiles and kisses Hannibal deeply.