Sutcliffe hadn't changed much.
It was unfortunate for his patients that nobody had yet caught on to his more repugnant extracurricular activities, but Hannibal was more than willing to take advantage of it to get Will checked out quickly.
"He's an attractive man, this 'patient' of yours," Sutcliffe said, while the MRI whirred on. There was a smirk on his face that Hannibal didn't much like.
Hannibal let his mouth twitch when Sutcliffe glanced at him, as if he'd been caught out. How easily we believe others are guilty of our own personal peccadilloes.
"He is my patient."
"His mind is your patient." Sutcliffe looked at the monitors briefly, but was clearly more interested in whatever he thought Hannibal had going on. "The body is less... accessible, I take it."
Hannibal felt an ill-timed flare of desire. The breaking down of Will's inhibitions to achieve the brief real touches he'd managed so far had been more enjoyable than he'd ever imagined. It caught him by surprise sometimes.
"Sometimes our wishes coincide with the best interests of a patient. A happy accident, you might call it."
Sutcliffe nodded, far too enthusiastically for Hannibal's taste. "I'd ah, be more than willing to conduct the initial examination. It can take an experienced hand to get them to relax."
That was irritating. Sutcliffe's tastes usually ran a little younger. Hannibal pursed his lips. Yes, Sutcliffe was overdue for Hannibal's personal attention. He had been remiss.
"Thank you, that won't be necessary." Hannibal moved over to the screens. Nothing yet, but he knew what the final scans would show. "I can handle the examination, and the diagnosis part is a formality. The encephalitis isn't in any doubt."
"I really should insist," Sutcliffe said, clearly disappointed. "Perhaps the follow-up, we could schedule that next week? I'm doing you a big favour here, after all."
He had a busy week coming up, but he could probably fit a few hours in to deal with Sutcliffe once and for all.
"I'll put it in my diary," Hannibal said, and favoured him with a smile at last.
Will was surprised when Hannibal walked into the examination room alone. Surprised but not displeased; it had already been uncomfortable enough getting settled in for the MRI with Dr Sutcliffe. He'd been a little more handsy than Will was accustomed to from strangers.
What was really strange was that he was okay with his psychiatrist seeing him in a hospital gown more than he was another doctor. Of course, Hannibal saw him naked on a regular basis, which was-- yes, it still felt weird to think about.
"Isn't Dr Sutcliffe going to do this?"
Hannibal gave him a wry smile. "I thought you might be more comfortable with me, Will."
"Maybe. Yes." Will hadn't realised how tense he'd been, sitting there on the examination bed covered with just a flimsy gown. "Thank you. I was wondering what he'd say if--"
"If he noticed some of the marks on you?"
Will could still feel the tingle from the flogging across his shoulders, and he was even more aware of the hard strokes of the cane he'd taken every time he sat down. He wasn't sure if it was the sensations themselves, the idea he'd done something so unusual for him, or if it was just the thrill of having a secret.
A secret with Hannibal, anyway.
Or maybe, he thought, watching Hannibal roll up his sleeves and pull on a pair of latex gloves, it was just the memory of being the focus of all of Hannibal's attention.
"I'm not sure what the etiquette is when someone realises you've been spanked or flogged," Will said. He watched Hannibal's strong forearms; the sight of them always calmed him, for some reason. They were reassuring, and came with deft, sure hands that knew how to take care of him, whether medically or in more interesting ways. "Is it different when it's a medical professional than a friend? How much is one expected to divulge to either?"
"You can divulge as much or as little as you want." Hannibal put a stethoscope around his neck, and with the gloves he looked like a whole different person to Will. He stepped closer. "You can always tell them it's therapy."
Will looked up. Hannibal's eyes were warm and dark, crinkling at him; they said a lot of things that Hannibal never had. Not yet.
"Are we still calling it that?" he asked softly.
Hannibal's hand brushed his face, somehow both more and less intimate for the blue latex covering it. "We can call it whatever you want."
"Good." Will let out a long breath. "So, Dr Lecter. How do you want me?"
"Cooperative, ideally," Hannibal said, and showed him the thermometer.
Will held his head still while Hannibal fitted it to his ear. "It's really high, right?"
He didn't need to see Hannibal's face to know it was. "I may have been down-playing the sleepwalking. And there have been a few more hallucinations than I mentioned."
Hannibal sighed, and Will felt more guilty than if he'd been angry.
"I wish you'd felt able to tell me everything, Will." Hannibal was calm as always. "It's my fault if you thought you had to hide it from me."
It really wasn't, but Hannibal sounded very sure.
"I don't want to hide anything from you." Hannibal was so patient, and he'd done so much for him. He'd gone out on a limb for him with the unusual therapy ideas, and they had been helping. They might help him even more in future once his head was clear and he wasn't waking up sweaty and lost every night.
Hannibal had started to fix his daytime problems; Will had no doubt he could fix the nightmares too.
"I'm going to use the stethoscope now," Hannibal said, and helped Will remove the gown from his chest and shoulders. "It might be a little cold."
It was, but Hannibal's broad hand on his shoulder steadied him. He jumped when the icy metal brushed his nipple, and he wasn't sure it was entirely by accident.
Hannibal didn't so much as blink, though, so he couldn't be certain.
"I'm going to examine your head, and then you can get dressed." Hannibal moved his fingers slowly over Will's neck and the base of his skull. They were firm and solid, and Hannibal was standing very close, close enough for Will to feel the heat of his body and inhale a faint scent of what was probably insanely expensive aftershave.
Will had never spent money on aftershave in his life.
"Shouldn't—" Will bit his lip, almost appalled at the thoughts going through his head.
Hannibal leaned back and looked at him.
"I just wondered, while we're here." Will glanced around the room, taking in the equipment and mysterious implements on trays. "Shouldn't I-- I could probably do with a full physical. Just to be sure."
It was flimsy, he knew that. If Hannibal was right and he was physically ill, he was probably going to be in hospital for a few days or more soon enough. There was no real need for Hannibal to examine him further.
Hannibal's eyes were almost burning now; Will wondered if that was another hallucination.
"What is it that you think I should do, Will?"
Will swallowed hard. "Whatever you want," he said, and felt a rush through his whole body. It left him feeling off-balance and exposed, but it was a calculated risk. Hannibal had never left him feeling that way.
Hannibal's fingers pressed harder into his skull, and his eyes bored into Will's for a moment.
"I need to tell you something, Will," he said carefully. "There's a very strong probability that the camera on the ceiling is recording this."
"What?" He hadn't even noticed a camera.
"Just video, no sound. I saw the feed in Sutcliffe's office." Hannibal rubbed at his shoulders and Will relaxed into the touch easily. "He is not a doctor I would have brought you to if there had been another easily available option for today. I'm afraid I compromised my principles for the use of his MRI."
"I assume we wouldn't be here if you couldn't obtain the video afterwards," Will said, and when Hannibal nodded, he shrugged. "Then I don't mind giving Sutcliffe a cheap thrill."
He minded a little, but it was worth it for the look on Hannibal's face. He was tempted, Will could see that, but was he going to go for it?
Hannibal leaned in close again. "Try not to look too eager," he said, his voice low and full of enough promise to make Will's head spin.
"Now," he said, adjusting his gloves with a snap. "I think we'd better have that gown off, Mr Graham."
Will widened his eyes at Hannibal. "Is that really necessary, Dr Lecter?" He shuffled uncomfortably on the bed. "I thought this was just about my head."
"It's best to be thorough," Hannibal told him, every inch the medical professional. It was almost uneasy how good an actor he was, or it would be if Will didn't know it was real.
Still, he switched so effortlessly from friend to therapist to... something else, whatever this was. Something that made him want to follow instructions; or made him willing to do so, knowing that he could let Hannibal take over for a while.
Knowing that he didn't have to take responsibility.
He let Hannibal help him to the floor, glancing at the hands on his arms that guided him. Hannibal made sure to run his hands over as much of Will's arms as he could get away with, letting his fingertips trail as he let go.
Will let the hospital gown fall to the floor.
"Lift your arms above your head, please."
Hannibal was there again with the stethoscope, pressing the cold metal disc down his ribs and across his stomach. Will kept his eyes up so he didn't know where it would appear next. Hannibal used his fingers to keep Will still while he examined him, and Will catalogued all the new places Hannibal touched him. His throat, his navel, his ribs--
He jumped when Hannibal's gloved fingers lifted his cock. And now Will could add his balls to the list of new places Hannibal had touched him. He couldn't help lowering his eyes to meet Hannibal's. The warmth was still there in his eyes, every bit as thrilling as his detached clinical persona, and Will didn't want to look away.
It was Hannibal who broke eye contact first, and stepped away.
"When were you last sexually active, Mr Graham?" He peeled the latex gloves off and pulled two more out of a box. He stretched them out a little, and slowly began to smooth one over his fingers.
Will watched, enthralled.
"Um. I had an orgasm yesterday, if that's what you mean." It sounded better than 'you made me come my brains out, and given what I'm doing right now I'm not sure it was entirely metaphorical'.
"With a friend." The first time in longer than he wanted to think about that someone else had been present. He had a feeling Hannibal already knew that.
"So you are sexually active at the moment."
"We—" Will ran his tongue over his lips while he considered his words. "It was just his hand. We haven't done anything else."
It felt unfinished even before Hannibal met his eye.
"Not yet," he added.
"Well then." Hannibal reached for a bottle on the counter and began to pump slick-looking gel onto his fingers. "Let's make sure you're all checked out before that happens."
It was hardly the first time Will had bent over for Hannibal, but this time he wasn't expecting a slap or a sharp line of fire from a cane. This was new, and he had to concentrate on not looking towards the camera when he turned to lean on the bed.
Was Sutcliffe watching them now? Probably, if Hannibal was right about him. He shuffled his legs apart slightly and didn't think about why.
"I've never--" he said, trying to keep his voice steady. He was having a hard time distinguishing between nerves and excitement, more so every day, but this was definitely both in a tangled and confused mess. "I mean, really never."
Hannibal paused with his hand on Will's back. "What about doctors?"
Will laughed, and it came out a little choked. "Don't underestimate my ability to come up with a convincing escape strategy when needed."
And here he was practically begging for it.
"I'll bear that in mind," Hannibal said, his voice amused. "Now, please try not to move."
Hannibal's finger was cool and smooth, slick with the gel. It eased inside him and Will resisted the temptation to move away from it, rise on his toes away from the cold floor. Hannibal had a hand on his back in any case, the pressure just enough to remind him to be still.
It was... it was fine, really. Strange, but fine. Will concentrated on breathing slowly and steadily, and not thinking about how part of Hannibal was inside him, because that way lay more of a show than he wanted to put on for Sutcliffe.
"You're doing very well," Hannibal said, in his soothing doctor voice. Will felt a hand stroke up and down his spine and that was his only warning as a second finger started to push in next to the first.
A strangled noise escaped his throat, because he could really feel it this time, the latex dragging against his skin, trying to push through where there was no way in, or so it seemed. He clenched against the intrusion automatically, but Hannibal was undeterred.
"Try to relax your muscles," was all he said, as if it was that easy. The hand lifted from his back and something cool dribbled between his cheeks. "This will help."
Hannibal's fingers moved more easily now, slippery enough to move in and out of him slowly, pushing a little deeper each time. He could feel the muscle stretching, opening up, Hannibal's fingers probing and prodding inside him.
Then Hannibal hummed thoughtfully and twisted his fingers, and--
"Oh god," Will gasped out.
"Something wrong, Mr Graham?" Hannibal sounded amused, and fuck him for keeping up the innocent doctor act while Will's body sparked and ignited under his touch.
"I--," Will tried, but it took all his effort to hold himself up and not let his knees buckle underneath him. Hannibal was ruthless now he'd found his target, thrusting his fingers at the spot that made Will arch and moan over and over.
He was hard, desperately trying not to rub against the bed. What would it look like, him writhing on Hannibal's fingers, needy and wanton like all he wanted was to be fingered open and fucked right here.
"Stand up," Hannibal said, and pulled Will back to lean against him. He was going to ruin Hannibal's suit by sweating all over it, and leave damp hairs on his shoulder, but Hannibal didn't seem to care. His fingers were still inside, not reaching so deep but still making him tremble with every movement. "Touch yourself."
He let himself lean back against Hannibal's strong, solid chest, and reached down to his neglected cock. It bounced obscenely with every thrust of Hannibal's fingers, and Will was mesmerised for a moment until he remembered what Hannibal had said.
He wrapped his fingers around his cock and stroked. He let his head loll on Hannibal's shoulder and brush against his jaw, feel the fine stubble that was barely visible to the eye.
"How many fingers do you think you will take before I fuck you?" Hannibal said, his voice low and possessive. "Three? Four?"
"All of them," Will gasped, barely aware of what he was saying, but meaning it all the same.
He felt Hannibal still behind him, then give his fingers one last thrust. Will's vision greyed around the edges and the room seemed very far away as he came harder than he ever had in his life.
All he heard over his own harsh breathing was Hannibal's voice in his ear, fond and amused.
"You will be the death of me, Will Graham."
It didn't take much persuasion for Sutcliffe to hand over the video. Hannibal didn't even need to resort to threats, or mention Will's close association with the FBI. Of course, he was under the illusion that he was going to get his hands on Will himself fairly soon. Hannibal was looking forward to disabusing him of that notion one way or another.
"This is evidence that he films patient examinations," Will said, on the journey home. "It's probably enough to get a warrant for other tapes."
Hannibal glanced over at him. "It would mean sacrificing your privacy. I'd assumed you wouldn't want that entered into official evidence."
Will smiled. "I can think of better uses for it," he said, and Hannibal wondered what he had in mind. "But you know, the option's there. Something should be done about Sutcliffe."
"Dr Sutcliffe will get what's coming to him one day," Hannibal said, "but I'll find another way if I can."
It was an interesting point though. The thought had been there in the back of his mind, wondering if Will would be suspicious if Sutcliffe disappeared in the next few days. He'd never intended for Will to know about the recording when this started.
Maybe there was another way to deal with Sutcliffe that didn't risk retaliation or compromise their privacy.
Then Hannibal remembered the greedy look on Sutcliffe's face when he talked about Will.
No, Sutcliffe had earned his place on Hannibal's dinner table. He even had the perfect recipe in mind, something Will would enjoy as a simple supper. He could look at other options for any future annoyances. It would be sensible to have alternative strategies for dealing with the rude and obnoxious if he was, as appeared to be the case, embarking on a relationship. He would necessarily have less time completely alone.
"You look very pleased with yourself," Will said. "Are you thinking about sex or food?"
It was an unnecessary distinction in this case.
"Veal Française," Hannibal said, and smiled at him. "For two."