pécheur [n.] sinner
It was beautiful to see how entrancing he was to Will Graham, and that was when Hannibal Lecter realized that he was more than interested in the other man. There was a need that could only be satisfied by the fact that he was inside Will in the most psychiatric way possible. He was getting into his mind, nesting there, and making himself comfortable. He wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon, he knew, and with someone so very loyal to him, so trusting of him, there were countless possibilities.But now it was time to focus on what he had invited the man over for initially: cooking, and now Hannibal would struggle to keep the both of them focused on the task at hand rather than Will asking for physical affection and Hannibal giving in due to the pleasure it would give him mentally and physically from controlling Will’s thoughts. But the other’s words guided him away from his thoughts and brought him back to the present, a hand moving to Will’s shoulder in order to keep an air of sensuality around them, no matter how innocent.
“We do this just as I would: professionally and artistically. I intend to teach you to be artistic in more ways than merely your fishing lures, William, and I also intend to see you succeed. I will obviously need your cooperation,” Hannibal explained, giving the man a small kiss on the ear before pulling away completely before preparing a section fit for Will at a cutting board, the vegetables that needed to be cut laying neatly in a bowl before the wooden plank that laid upon the granite countertop. “Come, Will. Let me show you how these need to be prepared.”
Wrangling, squeezing and dragging his thoughts back into some semblance of order seemed to take more effort than he would like to admit to. Clearing his mind of the fog that had settled in it once he’d sunk into his apparently lust-induced dazed state, Will blinked several times to ensure that he’d gotten rid of the vestiges of it.
Presenting and styling his food had always seemed a superfluous thing as there was never anyone to appreciate it. Additionally, the meticulous work would be taken apart by metal utensils in a short period of time after it was set out, so why bother? Any food Will prepared was meant to be appreciated once it was on his tongue rather than when it was on the plate.
Well aware of the hand at his shoulder, he nodded along with the explanation given to him, on the verge of responding when a kiss was pressed to his ear. The gesture made him pause for all of a second, surprised by the simple intimacy even if he had been leaning into and seemingly wrapped around the doctor just moments before. Shaking his head, he moved to Hannibal’s side and eyed the wooden board set out for him, eyes flitting around the counter top to examine the vegetables he was about to cut to pieces.
“Regardless of what others think of me, I like to think that I’m artistic in at least a few other ways than simply in the way I assemble my lures.” The words are muttered, more for his sake than for the older man’s. Though, if he were to think it over, he wasn’t sure that having the ability to describe a criminal’s thought process in lurid detail after surfacing from their mind was truly something that should be considered artistic.
Hannibal Lecter was standing with William, the two men radiating a different sort of heat than they ever had with each other, and perhaps there was a glow obvious about Will that Hannibal had never seen before. Maybe because it had never been there. Maybe because he had been blind to anyone other than himself for so long. But the doctor didn’t plan to leave him happy. It was a horrendous thought as he looked to the man now, as he saw nothing but excited adoration in his eyes, and the poor man was so blinded by it.A hand came to his cheek, thumb rubbing over his bottom lip softly, gently and carefully, wondering how his blood would taste dripping from his tongue. “We can,” he promised, and he felt nothing. He felt as if he would if he were an onlooker to the situation, but being held within it, he could see Will Graham, and he could see him finding his secrets. He needed to keep them hidden.
The man was dark, empty, in theory, a Victorian house. As regal as the Queen herself, and as devilish as Satan. He frolicked in the pain of others, he cared not of the world. The world had not been kind to him, so why should he have done so for it? “We can,” he offered one last time, giving Will a kiss that was no more meaningful than a rock sitting at the bottom of a river. The other man would take it as so much more. It wasn’t. Maybe it would change in the future, but for the time being, Hannibal cared not of experiencing love with a boyish man who would soon come to depend on him far too much.
“Good.” It was as eloquent as a response as he could give at the moment. His mind was sluggishly recovering and processing the abrupt deviation from their plan for the evening. Dinner. Dinner had been the plan and now he was standing against Hannibal, kissing him and having come to the decision that he wanted to be in a relationship with him. Not how he had seen the night going at all.
Something nagged at the corner of his thoughts, just out of reach, but he dismissed it for the moment, giving him something to come back to once he was in bed back at home.
Will took the last kiss with a quiet hum, mustering the necessary motivation to step away from the older man at last. Casting a glance around the kitchen, he cleared his throat and blinked rapidly, erasing the last of the fog from his mind. “How do we do this, then?”
Hannibal was pleased when Will had given in to his own desires, and that was the moment the man had the other wrapped perfectly around his finger. A relationship was formed, they were a couple, and this would only aide in Hannibal’s complete control of Will Graham. Kissing him slightly more vigorously out of pure internal joy for a reason different than Will’s, Hannibal was surprised when he had been pulled upwards and kissed hard, but able to feel the lingering hesitation flowing through Will’s body.His arms wrapped around him, keeping him flush against him as the two bodies learned each other through smooth movements, and after a small time later, Hannibal had retreated for air. The both of their lips were reddened and swollen, Hannibal’s hair askew from the other’s fingers, and gentle caresses were made to his cheek. “I’m caught between cooking and continuing this with you, William. Can you help me choose one,” he whispered, his own voice husky with the lust that was forming between them.
“You kiss far better than I had anticipated, William,” Hannibal spoke with a smile, his hand smoothing over Will’s chest before he popped open a button, smooth skin revealed that Hannibal only wanted to devour. “I enjoy it. It was a pleasant surprise,” he admitted before moving in to begin kissing once more.
A relationship. A romantic relationship with Hannibal Lecter. Never had he thought that that would be a sentence used to describe himself, and yet, that was exactly what he was agreeing to. That was exactly what he wanted. Will’s thoughts of disbelief were promptly scattered and tossed away when Hannibal’s kisses grew more enthusiastic, feeling rather elated himself at the reaction he believed he had prompted from the man. This was what he wanted.
The doctor’s less than pristine appearance affected him in the most surprisingly appealing of ways. Taking in the dishevelled hair, he shuddered slightly at the hoarse whisper while he weighed the options. “Maybe we should, uh,” he broke off to clear his throat, distantly amused by gruff quality that had overtaken his own voice. “Maybe we should continue this later? After we eat? I-is that a possibility?” He didn’t really want all of the man’s preparation to go to waste.
“Should I be insulted, doctor?” Will asked, offering an answering smile. “I’m entirely hopeless when it comes to relationships.” Any further remarks never make it out, coming to a halt as soon as he felt the secure fit of his shirt loosen minutely. With a mumbled, “I’m glad I can surprise you,” he eagerly accepted the man’s lips in another kiss.
“I believe your happiness would make me such, Will. If you want a relationship, then so be it.” The doctor kept Will within his embrace, and their kiss began again. Feeling Will react to his tongue in such a manner brought a larger confidence within Hannibal to continue his advances. A gentle move of the muscle within his mouth enabled his own to meet Will’s, his taste wonderful and exquisite, something Hannibal wouldn’t have thought he would enjoy. But this placed a small hunger within the older man, and he wasn’t sure if it was more metaphorical or literal.Will was practically laying upon the doctor, but he wouldn’t protest. Non Hannibal was in fact enjoying it all and as hands ran through hair and tongues caressed each other, Hannibal was curious if Will even wanted to eat anymore. Slowing the affection gingerly, Hannibal soon moved his lips away and to the man’s jaw, breathing against his neck as he kissed his skin. “Whatever you want, William. Whatever you want,” he assured, his kisses making it easy to believe his words.
It’s a flattering thought, and not one that he believed entirely, but he wanted to believe it. Sorely, badly. Will easily, maybe too easily, eagerly, lost himself in the sensations assaulting him, warmth blossoming in the pit of his stomach and rapidly spreading outwards. This was something he did not get to enjoy all too often, so he enjoyed the moment, prized it as if it would never happen again.
And frankly, he wouldn’t have been at all surprised to be rudely awakened and shortly discover that it had all been a bizarre dream. An absurd, wonderful dream.
He barely paid any mind to the small whine that he made when the kiss was broken, mildly resenting the opportunity to breathe. Simply because it meant that he had to leave the other’s lips in order to do so. “Then what I want is this. With you.” The words are slightly hoarse, interrupted by quiet pants for air, but they’re there, they’re out.
The feeling of the doctor’s lips moving against his neck was dazing but it wasn’t what he wanted at the moment. Somehow managing to move his hands to cup Hannibal’s jaw and guide him back in front of him, Will closed the distance between their mouths yet again, distantly recalling that he should put a stop to this. This wasn’t why he was here. As pleasant as it was.
Hannibal continued moving his hands across Will’s back and ran his fingers through his hair, listening to his small utterances of desires he had. A relationship… He supposed it wouldn’t be too far from the realm of possibilities, so he simply nodded, listening to him say he would like such. “If you would like a relationship, that is what we can have, William. If that’s what you want, and if that will make you happy, than I am more than willing to give that to you.”Kissing his temple and slowly moving downwards with his lips, he gradually captured the other’s mouth, feeling the scratching of his beard against his own chin and wondering just what was allowing him to go this far with someone, especially Will. Hannibal never thought he was homosexual, but the very fact that he was mildly drawn to Will made him question whether he liked women or men… but he knew he wouldn’t do this with any other. It was only Will, so that in itself was quite confusing.
Hannibal’s hand rested upon his chest again, feeling his heart beat beneath his ribs and into the palm of his hand. Oh how wonderful it would have surely felt to experience a full cardiac massage by him, to have his heart in his grasp as it pumped. It made his mouth water as he kissed Will, slowly letting it become more heated as he let his tongue emerge from his mouth and meet his lips, tasting them while he kept his lower half still, not wanting to make Will too uncomfortable.
A soft sigh fell from his lips as Hannibal’s hand continued to smooth through his hair and over his back. It was comforting, on a level. There was a difference between being touched gently and being touched gingerly and he found the doctor’s hands fell neatly into the former category. It was refreshing to not be treated as if he might shatter at the slightest brush of contact. “Hm. But what would make you happy? I don’t exactly have a lot to offer.”
Will was more than willing to return to Hannibal’s mouth. His own compliance surprised him, dimly, vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind. It was accompanied by the thought that they were supposed to be doing something. There was a purpose to his visit. And he was quite certain that it was not to kiss the older man against the counter in his absurdly well-furnished kitchen. On which there was a cutting board, he recalled. Best be careful with the knife and vegetables behind Hannibal then. Cutting board. Knife, ingredients. Food. Dinner. He’d come to help Hannibal make dinner. To eat. Right.
However, the wet slide of the man’s tongue had not been something he’d been expecting and the sensation sent his thoughts scattering. He didn’t feel particularly inclined to protest. It did, however, send a lick of heat to his stomach and lower as he hesitantly parted his lips for the man.
Hannibal was hungry for the man, finding it mildly humorous of Will’s faltering. Lips moved easily against the other’s, his beard grazing against the smooth skin of Hannibal’s jaw, a hand creeping up to his chest now. Jerking breaths encompassed Will, and a smooth caress against his neck was offered at an attempt to soothe the man. “Calm down,” he mumbled against his lips, though keeping them together. “William, you need to calm down. You’ll make yourself sick,” he warned, strong arms holding the man.Of course, he wanted Will wrapped around his finger, but discomfort wouldn’t aide in that goal. Holding him against his will would get him nowhere. Hannibal gently nudged his nose against the side of Will’s face, lips still kissing at him, but his hands were in a more comfortable place now. “Is this what you want? Do you want to be this physical? Is it uncomfortable for you?” His lips continued to place soft kisses upon Will’s jawline, dark eyes studying the lighter ones of the other.
It would have been unregularly cruel for Hannibal to place Will in such a position against his better judgement. It would be harassment, and mentally it would hurt him more than necessary. His hands were still in Hannibal’s hair, and Hannibal moved to do the same, though a more gentle aspect to it rather than Will’s firm grip. Fingertips moved against his scalp, trying to calm him, and he hoped Will would say what he ultimately truly desired.
The difficulty he was having with simply breathing dissolved steadily under the older man’s hand, his pulse was still racing but that was to be expected. “W-well, I wasn’t really expecting any of this. So pardon me if I’m having a hard time adjusting.”
The repositioning of Hannibal’s hold on him proved reassuring. The man wouldn’t force him into anything then. He could, Will knew the man was more than physically capable of making submit to whatever he wanted, willingly or not. Lips against his cheek and jaw reinforce the idea, giving him enough reassurance to give the questions serious thought.
“It’s- it’s not uncomfortable exactly, just… not something I’m used to,” he mumbled, opting to start with the last question. “I think ‘yes’ would be the answer to the other two. But I, uh, don’t want it to… to simply be physical.” That said, Will dropped his forehead onto Hannibal’s shoulder, unlocking his hand enough to loosen his hold on the doctor’s hair, apologetically smoothing out the tufts he could feel sticking out as a result of it.
Standing there in Will’s arms proved to be difficult for the doctor, wanting to do more with him, to make Will feel some sort of pleasure further, but he refrained. Letting Will come to him was vital. And when he did, oh how he enjoyed it. Kissing the man back, Hannibal leaned his back against the counter, pulling Will’s body onto him more as his hands traveled his back and sides. His goal was to get inside of the man, to obtain utter devotion and trust from him.The hand in the hair though…it was almost too much for now, but Hannibal allowed it. Some dominance was granted in order to get him where he wanted him. Kissing him more, Hannibal then pulled Will to him harder, both bodies pressed flush against each other so Hannibal could feel every single reaction Will was having to this affection.
A kiss. Just one kiss. It could bring so much, and Hannibal loved that. Air wasn’t needed. At least not for Hannibal. He knew how to do this, how to manage in breaths, and he also wasn’t nervous, as Will was. A hand rested just above the cheek of Will’s rear, not moving down any further though as he pushed the man’s hips into his own. He didn’t care what happened tonight, as long as Will became his.
Heart pounding away in his chest, the blood rushing in his ears blocked out most noise except for his increasingly laboured breathing. His attention split between the hands wandering over his torso and trying to regulate his breath as he was pulled against the older man. Too much yet, oddly, not enough.
A strangled noise left him when he was pulled flush against Hannibal, his hands moving to the man’s shoulders. Now whether he wanted to use the positioning to push himself away or move closer was slightly beyond him at the moment.
He very nearly repeated the sound when he suddenly became painfully aware of where Hannibal had placed his hands. Any protests that he’d formed scrambled themselves hopelessly when their hips were pressed together, gracelessly replaced with a choked moan.
Will’s sputtering only proved to send Hannibal into a deeper state of aggravation. That was until he felt his presence getting nearer, until soon Graham was pressing himself against him, arms wrapping around his middle as light breath was felt upon his neck. In all honesty it gave him chills as he braced himself against the counter, bowing his head to allow Will a small amount of slack to do as he pleased to a limit.Hannibal’s hand came to rest on Will’s arm, beginning to rub softly, knowing Will was using much of his courage to do this. He had him where he wanted him, though, and slowly Hannibal moved to turn to face him, remaining in his embrace. Faces were close once more, lips inches from Will’s own, and he wanted to taste him again. “Do not be sorry,” he insisted, fingers moving up to his jaw, tracing the lines of his bone structure.
“Don’t be sorry. Just show me what you feel,” Hannibal expressed, the doctor brushing his lips against Will’s once more. His breath felt good against his mouth, and he wanted to know just what he felt. He wanted to know if Will wanted him. If he made the right moves, perhaps Hannibal would allow him some more slack in the rope.
Concentration was required as he focused on not tensing, freezing up again when the doctor turned around in his arms. He quickly forced his whirlwind of emotions down, hesitantly leaning into Hannibal’s touch as he processed the man’s words.
How was he supposed to show what he felt? Neither one of them were prone to grand gestures of sentimentality. Warm. That was largely what he felt now, warm and still vaguely confused. But the doctor’s lips against his proved distracting enough to bring him back to the present.
Might as well. All or nothing, right? Will tightened an arm around Hannibal’s waist, finally pushing himself into kissing him back as his other hand made its way into the older man’s hair.
Nothing didn’t seem like an appealing option anyway.
Wandering hands never ceased their movements, not until a small annoyance was planted within Hannibal when Will Graham remained immobile. A hand on his hip and a hand on his shoulder, Hannibal pulled away to stare at his guest. Maybe this was too much. “Do you not want me to do this, Will? Tell me the truth.”Hannibal wanted honesty to pour from the other man’s mouth, to not be lied to. And that’s what he would get, no matter the cost. Slowly retreating, Hannibal turned to look at the counter where awaited a meal to be prepared. “Perhaps I misunderstood what I thought you might have enjoyed. I apologise for discomforting you.”
With a tight jaw, the doctor picked up his glass of wine and drank from it, the other hand flitting about with ingredients and preparations for the meat of the night while his mind only thought of his lips against Will Graham’s. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t right in the first place, and yet he still wanted more. He wanted the other to want him, because desire meant giving onesself. Desire meant temptation and selfishness. Hannibal wanted to play with Will. He wanted his mind and entire body completely devoted to him.
Realizing that staying still for an extended period of time while Hannibal kissed him was probably a mistake, Will began sputtering half-words as soon as the man stepped away. He felt oddly deprived now that there was an acceptable distance between them. Deprived and as if he had missed an opportunity which had blatantly thrown itself in his face.
“You didn’t - well, you did but that- that was just, uh. You kind of s-surprised me,” he blurted out, scrambling to remedy the situation and feeling his chest tighten.
Will watched helplessly as the doctor began busying himself with the original purpose of his visit, rapidly growing anxious as the seconds ticked by and he continued to simply stand there. The evening wasn’t going the way he had thought it would at all.
Finally gathering his nerves, Will moved behind the older man, remaining motionless for a few moments afterwards out of confusion. What was he supposed to do now? Apologise for giving Hannibal the wrong idea? Pretend that nothing had happened?
Neither idea was particularly appealing. Or honest. And the man had said to be truthful.
Giving himself another second before nodding steadily, Will pressed his chest to Hannibal’s back. Another breath. Again, to steel himself. His arms found their way around the older man’s waist gradually, easing into the contact. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, tentatively brushing his lips across the back of Hannibal’s neck. That was a good start, right?
The tangible heat that emanated from Will’s face was almost enough of a reaction. But even enough was never enough for Hannibal Lecter. He wanted to toy with Will Graham, to have him reveal what he felt towards Hannibal. Up until this point, no such physical contact had occured, and now Hannibal was kissing the man, seemingly out of thin air. But if one was truly dissecting the relationship between Will Graham and Doctor Lecter, they would have easily picked up on just what Hannibal was doing with the man.
His hands on him never left. They wouldn’t until Hannibal desired to resume cooking, but he hadn’t yet. He wanted to test Will, to feel him out in more ways than one. Stutters, broken words of surprise attempting to leave the man’s lips that had reddened from the pressure of Hannibal’s against his own. It was pleasing to Hannibal to put Will in such a baffled state, in such a helpless suit of armor. His words wouldn’t defend him in the least bit.
Hannibal’s hands moved downward, sliding over Will’s chest and feeling the glasses he had placed in his pocket. It was lovely to feel the man cower in his own skin, to feel him sink even deeper into his shell. Hannibal’s pursed lips opened to speak, and they were still so very close to Will’s. “I have indeed wished to do this for quite some time, William. You told me not to stop, and so I withheld my refrain and did as I pleased.”Will’s body underneath the clothes was relatively nice. Muscular from fishing and fooling around with his dogs, although the man never went out for deliberate exercise. He only did what he enjoyed. So close…so close Hannibal was to him, and how how he yearned to indulge himself once more. The long, hot breath of Hannibal Lecter met the short, moist one of Will’s, and after a moment of focusing on his heightening heartbeat once more, Hannibal leaned in to obtain another kiss. He wanted to feel Will give in, to reciprocate the affection shown to him, and if he didn’t, Hannibal would have to teach him manners.
Hannibal’s hand moved slowly up to Will’s jaw, where his fingers toyed with the man’s beard. He wanted to be kissed back, to know that Will Graham wanted him, and maybe this would take time, but Hannibal was being far too impatient for a man of social dislike to come to him in such a way. Fingers twined into the other’s thick curls, something that gave Hannibal a sense of power as he pulled Will closer. His grip was tight, threatening, but not so much as to scare the opposing man. No, he merely wanted him to know who was in charge. No other than Doctor Hannibal Lecter.
Will had the faint desire to pull away, to turn around and fumble his way to the sink. To suggest that they actually begin the process of cooking before it got too late. The thoughts scattered when he felt the doctor’s hand move to his chest. “Don’t you, uh… You always seem to do what you please. What are you doing?” Hannibal’s hand proved to be a bit too distracting, drawing his attention to it, pressed against his chest and feeling him while he attempted to speak.
He let out a small noise of protest when blunt fingers curled into a firm hold in his hair to force him closer to the older man. It was a stark contrast to the hand practically stroking the stubble on his jaw. Still too confused to do much, let alone move, he remained still against Hannibal while the man kissed him again.
It definitely wasn’t unwanted. It was simply surprising and overwhelming enough to render him motionless for a good while. Even if he didn’t kiss the other back, he really had little other choice than to let the man push and pull him into place to where he wanted him. To submit.