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Will Graham knocked on the front door of his (unofficial) psychiatrist’s - Dr Hannibal Lecter - house. The knock was a soft rap of his knuckles; once, twice, no more. He waited, and waited, and waited. He sighed, a soft puff of air exhaled almost inaudibly, running calloused fingers through tussled, chocolate brown locks. He knocked again, the sound now echoing down the hall and ringing delightfully in Hannibal’s ears, like a little bell, the doctor thought suddenly, a light smile twisting his lips into one of his notorious micro expressions. He knew who it was without even opening the door. The knock was frantic now, impatient.

Hannibal took his sweet time to make his way to the door, the satin sheen of his quite expensive robe sashaying and glistening in the fractions of the low light of the hallway, Will’s obvious need to see him a feeling he thrived on, warmed his barely there heart in a way he hadn't felt in a very long time. It correspondingly gave him a sense of power over others, and furthermore a dominance; control. His face was a mask of calmly executed control as he opened the door to see the disgruntled expression of the man he’d formed an unnamed attachment to and who he’d guessed would be at his door at almost – his eyes flickered down to the old watch on his wrist then, a light eyebrow arching as he realized what the time was; half past eleven at night -  the slight twitch of his lips causing Will’s eyes to flicker away, embarrassed.

Will ran his hand through his hair again, his voice barely above a mumble as he spoke. “I had another nightmare. I had to…” He trailed off, the unspoken words of ‘see you’ hung in the air like fog from a warm breath on a bitter, cold winter morning. He knew that it was nearly 11.30 at night, but he honestly hadn't slept well, hadn't slept well in a long time. Ever since the first case, the Garrett Jacob-Hobbs case. His hand ran over his face, a frustrated sigh passing his lips, audible now to both himself and the man he was beginning to rely on, more and more, with every meeting that they shared.

“Then you’d better come in, Will. My home is always open to friends, you know that.” Hannibal opened the door wider, stepping to the side to allow a big enough gap for Will to enter into the hall without making the younger man feel uncomfortable about the close proximity. Will stepped inside with a nod and a murmured, “thank you,” before making his way down the hall and stopping just before the door of Hannibal’s office. He turned around and waited until Hannibal had shut the door, and had also made his way towards his office, and his (unofficial) patient.

“You don’t have to feel embarrassed about seeing me so late, Will, I’m still your psychiatrist, but more importantly, I’m also your friend. You shouldn't feel as uncomfortable about turning up as when we talked for the first time confidentially.” Hannibal pushed the door open, holding it ajar so that Will could walk through first - he reminded the younger man of someone who had been brought up to be well-mannered and nothing less. It made him smile a little, despite the circumstances of this meeting.

Will nodded in reply before making his way through the marginal gap, ignoring the strange skip of his heart as he could have sworn he felt Hannibal’s breath wash over the exposed skin of his neck, and once his normal seat was in his line of vision, his normal destination for when he and Hannibal discussed his problems, he moved towards the seat and parked his rear down.

Hannibal watched over Will with eager eyes for a moment, the glistening maroon darkening just a touch. He couldn't help but feel that this was going to be slightly more intimate than their normal meetings. He’d researched many methods of how to help someone suffering with insomnia, some more unorthodox than others, but there was an experiment he wished to try, a little research of his own, if you will. He knew without a shadow of doubt, that if he worded the proposal correctly then Will might give it a try, and that’s what he was hoping for.

He dimmed the lights a tad, before inhaling and exhaling slowly, his stride confident and nothing less as he made his way towards his own chair, opposite the younger man who looked the picture of ruffles and desperation, and he smiled slightly, to ease the scared and fearful being that had come to him in his hour of need. In fact, to Hannibal’s keen sense of smell, which far surpassed anyone else’s that he’d yet ever to stumble across, the boy simply reeked of desperation. He scrunched his nose delicately before his gaze fell on Will, the other man gazing back at him almost shyly, that action more confident than Will had dared to express before now. It shifted something between the two, which meant that Will was starting to trust Hannibal even more so than displayed before, opening up to him. Yes, Hannibal was sure the proposal he had to offer would not be flat out rejected.

“So, tell me about this nightmare.” Hannibal folded his hands in a neat little parcel in his lap, his piercing gaze acute as he caught the young man’s now wandering eye.

“I… It was pretty much the same as before, it just felt more real this time.” Will spoke softly, as if speaking too loudly would break the delicate balance between them both, and his breathing quickened as the images of his nightmare stag swam through his mind.

“You mean to say you felt as if it was actually happening to you, that the Stag was really there?” The words rolled off of Hannibal’s tongue with ease, his accent ever exotic.

“Yeah, exactly that. Even now, I can’t wash the images of it away, nor all of the blood. It won’t go away, please help me, Dr Lecter, and tell me what to do.” Will looked miserable, almost abysmal as he looked up at his doctor, and he had no idea that this was exactly what Hannibal had been waiting for.

“I have looked into insomnia, and methods of lessening the impact of it, and some of the methods I have found would help,” Hannibal talked slowly, as if he was just translating thoughts from his head almost instantly, and Will stared at him for a moment, his attention unwavering, a glimmer of hope in his eyes at the doctor’s words. Hannibal continued, “If you weren't putting yourself at risk out there on the field, constantly. It’s not good for you, Will. I know what you’re going to say, that you have no choice, that you’ll feel guilty if people die for your own self-preservation.”

Hannibal could have very well kicked himself for the way he’d worded the whole thing, he felt like he was being sloppy. He also felt like cutting his heart out right then when he saw the glimmer of hope in Will’s eyes extinguish. He didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, especially not to Will. What was it about this young man before him that seemed to just… Get under his skin?

“I see.” Will looked like a kicked puppy, and Hannibal stared at him, something flickering in his own eyes. It could have been lust, or it could have been darkness. He couldn't decipher between the two. Will looked like a prey animal, wounded. His face softened, and he almost looked like he was going to cry. Hannibal hated him in that moment, for just a split second, it seemed so… Unfair; like he was about to take advantage of the younger of the two, even though he thought that it was truly going to help Will. He didn't know why he felt the way he did about this man suddenly; it was a very strange feeling indeed for someone who’d barely ever cared or felt attachment to anyone else before in his life.

“I have one method that I want to try out, my own research, if you will.” Before Will could even look up, Hannibal stood quickly, moving forward with a smooth motion and braced his hands on Will’s shoulders, the action making Will flinch, and it shattered the extremely delicate boundaries that had been established ever since the first time they’d met. They were now tarnished, and Hannibal almost felt guilty. Almost.

“What did you have in mind?” Will knew this was crazy and downright mental, and he made a note to check in to a mental facility once he was finished with this. He looked up, the hands on his shoulders keeping him in place. He felt his whole world tipping on its axis, were there now… Feelings involved? Were his own for the man before him, which had become stronger as time passed, really that obvious?

Hannibal knelt before Will and looked at him, maroon absorbing blue-grey in its own way, and Will found that he couldn't, no matter how desperately he wanted to for fear of giving everything away, tear his gaze away. His breath picked up in rate, his pulse racing. Hannibal saw it then, the flicker that gave everything away, and he fought hard not to devour him right then and there. He saw the attraction, he smelt it, and he inhaled it, all of it - selfish. He was a cruel man, he suddenly realized, for not picking up on it sooner. He should have known.

Will was stuck, like he was swimming in a pool of maroon and nothing else, he was being pulled under, he couldn't grasp onto anything to give him leverage. He was suddenly very scared. He closed his eyes; it was the only way to tear his gaze away from the intrusion he felt whenever Hannibal looked at him, that calculating gaze seeing everything he had tried so hard to hide.

He opened his eyes and pushed up, his palms flat against Hannibal’s chest, the muscles rippling beneath the thin material, and Hannibal exhaled in a rush at the touch, sparking between the two like electricity conduction, but he stayed put. He could see the fear in Will’s eyes now and quickly he leaned forward, his motion almost jerky, his hands fell on Will’s cheeks, cupping them delicately, like Will was fragile, and oh, Will was fragile, Hannibal knew that.

It felt wrong, but it also felt right. Will stared, captured, enrapture evident in the sparkling pools of clear blue, the grey almost disappearing as Hannibal’s thumbs ran across the younger man’s cheek bones. He started to say something, but before he could get more than one syllable past his lips, Will lent forward, and then their lips touched, the soft skin moulded as one. Will’s hands fisted against Hannibal’s robe, the action causing Hannibal to growl in the back of his throat, the sound almost predatory.

Their lips moved in sync, almost perfect, and it was a tragic yet beautiful sight. Both were broken, in their own right, and they sought each other out; the lust, helplessness and tragedy all mixing as one. Hannibal ran one hand through Will’s hair, tugging in a quick motion that caused Will’s head to tilt up to give him better access, the younger man’s lips parting in a desperate, lonely gasp. He couldn't help but accept the warm muscle that slipped past his lips, sliding and exploring the warm crevice that was his mouth.

The lust zapped back and forth between the two as Will lightly nipped the tip of Hannibal’s tongue, the action testing the waters of who would be the more dominant of the two, although they both knew who would be dominant and who would submissive. Hannibal groaned lowly, pulling Will up by the tops of his arms and they almost fell over the table that was beside the chair. This was what broke the heated kiss.

“I still haven’t told you my idea, William.” Hannibal murmured as he pressed his lips to the other's for a short moment, the action a promise of more to come, and Will nodded, his face flushed from the heat and what would be described as exhilaration.

“What’s your idea, Dr Lecter?” Will breathed out, the puff of air hot against Hannibal’s lips, further igniting the fiery inferno sitting in the pit of his stomach.

“I want to test something, to see if it’ll cure some aspect of your insomnia.”

“I’m sure it will, Dr Lecter... I trust you.”

“Please, William, call me Hannibal for today, while I’m… Coercing.” The words slipped past his lips like a snake slithering, and he slowly pushed Will back, the ladder happening to be in the way, stopping Hannibal from pushing the younger man back any further. Neither cared though, they both just wanted, and needed, each other in that moment.

Hannibal’s hands roamed across the younger man’s body, undoing Will’s green shirt buttons with nimble fingers - the motion like fluid. He pushed the black waistcoat from Will’s shoulders, his own robe slipping off as Will untied the knot and the material slipped from Hannibal’s lean frame, exposing his pajama-clad body. Will smiled nervously as he shrugged his shirt and waistcoat from his body, his exposed torso a marvel for Hannibal, his fingers tracing the lined muscles of his abdomen that were only obvious if you were as close as Hannibal was.

His fingers run down along Will’s skin, the touch stirring something in the younger man that was blowing his lust up even more than before, shivers cascading all over his skin as Hannibal’s fingers reached his hips, squeezing the soft skin there, nails lightly scraping across the pale flesh that was like marble to Hannibal; so perfect. His fingers dug into his hip bones, tugging his trousers in a vain attempt to remove them. Will quickly undid his belt buckle, fingers shaking, - god, how had they even got to this? - and he unzipped and pushed his trousers down his legs, stepping out of them, his body quivering with the flushed need he was suddenly feeling for the other man.

Hannibal’s lips found Will’s again, the panted breaths of the younger male causing him to groan all over again, - what was happening to him? God, and why was it like Will was teasing him so much? - and he rid himself of his clothes, tugging and removing Will’s boxers in quick succession, both men now naked and fully exposed to each other. Will blushed furiously, trying to avert from looking down there at Hannibal, but found he was suffering with more than just his usual wandering eye.

“Thanks, Dr—I mean, Hannibal.” Will looked down - oh, God - and he realized that was a mistake, making him blush even more than before as he caught sight of the sheer size of his soon-to-be lover, the other’s name feeling foreign, thick and heavy on his tongue with the disuse of it.

Hannibal smiled kindly, the look that he’d never really expressed to anyone before, and he ran his hands down along Will’s sides, moving them under his rear and cupping, pulling him up so Will was able to wrap his legs around his waist.

Will tried to relax, breathing out slowly, as Hannibal lent his head forward and slowly started to kiss along his collar bone, little nips here and there every so often as his lips trailed across and up to the nape of his throat, his teeth gently scraping over Will’s Adam’s apple, the action causing him to groan in the back of his throat, the sound deep and primal, his hips already arching up. Hannibal started to grind against and into him, teasing.

Will spread his legs, little by little, Hannibal already starting to drive into him, his back muscles tensing against the ladder as he felt the older man enter him with a rasp of his name. The fiery inferno in the pit of his stomach had started as an ember but soon it would ignite to the fiery intense of a forest fire, Hannibal rolling his hips up and he held still as he let Will get as accustomed to his size as he could get. Will felt the burning stretch, it hurting for longer than a few moments, his jaw aching as it slacked, his head burying in the crook of Hannibal’s neck, a muffled whine as the pain was strong and he wanted Hannibal to just make it better - god, it hurts like a motherfucker, please! - and Hannibal muttered softly into Will’s hair.

“Hush, William, it’ll feel good, so good, soon, wait for it.” Hannibal hushed him, cooing the words with as much sympathy he could muster. God, Will was so tight, and that was something else, he wanted to just fuck him already, the cries from the boy only fueling the desire and lust that was gnawing in the pit of his stomach. He knew the pain wouldn't last long, he could count on it. He realized then that perhaps he should have used some sort of lubrication, and eased into Will instead of pushing ahead anyway, but Hannibal was a cruel, selfish man, who wanted to get whatever he wanted, and right now, he wanted Will Graham, all for himself. He didn't like sharing, in fact he hated sharing, almost as much as he hated rude people.

Will cried again, but as he cried, something changed in his tone of voice. Hannibal slowly pulled out an inch before carefully sliding in again, and Will closed his eyes; shut tight, Hannibal’s lips all over his face, comforting him. He hummed softly, desperately restricting himself from going all out and very well fucking Will like the savage creature he knew in the darkness of his heart that he truly was.

“C’mon, Will, hush, it’ll be good very soon, I promise.” Hannibal’s voice was hushed against the younger man’s quivering, parted lips, his tongue running over the lower of the two as he arched his hips up slowly, Will’s shaky, hot breath, another puff of air, against his mouth, and he couldn't help but moan quietly. “C’mon, relax, Will, I’ll make you feel brand new. I'm gonna fix you, Will.”

Will nodded slowly, his rear aching with both the stretch and the need for Hannibal to just move already, his voice a whimper of a groan as Hannibal aimed his hips up, his own hips responding and moving forward against his lover, a groan, then a moan falling from his lip, as Hannibal in turn responded with a shift, sliding up, driving up slowly, throbbing skin pushing through against tight heat, a mixture of both men’s moans as the friction that had started as painful suddenly became good. Really good.

The power of Hannibal’s drive against his younger lover was something spectacular, to say the least. He reminded Will of an animal, desperate eyes seeking his own, maroon meeting and clashing with blue, both sets of irises swirling as they captured each other’s gazes, unable to tear away from the other, the friction, again, staggering for the both of them. Hannibal thrust up then, unable to refrain from doing so and something in the very core of Will snapped, like elastic, as he responded, pushing his hips hard down over the pulsating flesh that was slick in his heat now, his lips parted, and jaw slack.

They were both a shaking, sweaty mess. The smell of sex was simply overwhelming, even to Will, who couldn't quite get any words past his lips, the only sound either of them managed to successfully make were vowels –ah, oh, uh!- again and again. Will’s face was distorted as Hannibal looked at him, and with a sharp snap of his hips, he felt the aftershock quiver of a precise hit to the boy’s prostate, his sweet spot, and Hannibal sought it again, and simply just the look on Will’s face as he hit the spot again was enough of a reason to find it.

The look of Will, coming undone beneath him, against his office ladder of all places, would be forever more etched into his mind’s eye. He’d achieved that, no-one else, just him by his own actions. It drove him forward, the creak of the wood adding fuel to the fire, he’d be damned if it broke now, and his movements were most frantic indeed, his own voice lost, a rough rasp as he lent his head forward and his lips found the boy’s throat, biting and sucking as he rolled his hips repeatedly, himself coming undone in the process but he just about managed to hold on, he needed Will to finish before himself.

Will, on the other hand, was so very close to being done in, his hair was a mess and stuck to his forehead and the sides of his head, and his skin was slick with the shimmering, sheen of sweat that allowed Hannibal to slide against him with ease, Will clinging to his lover like an anchor. He could feel himself losing everything, absolutely everything to the man above him, and his voice was strained with the gasps that just kept on forming with each thrust, the aforementioned fiery inferno in the pit of his stomach feeling like it was lava, burning him from the inside out.

His breath came short, a pant at first, then more, much more, as he felt Hannibal’s hand wrapping around his burning erection, and once calloused fingers stroked and caressed the velvety smooth of the shaft, hot to the touch, his back arched up, pushing even more desperately as he tried not to jolt against the touches and sensations that drove him and Hannibal both forward. Forward to the ending that was so close, so close they could both almost taste it.

Hannibal pushed again, harder and harder, pushing Will back against that ladder, bare skin against wood, almost stinging but not quite, the sensation just driving Will even more insane, the animalistic growl that whooshed past Hannibal’s lips without warning set off Will’s release and the younger man was breathless, blinded by the sheer magnitude it. The look on Will’s face, the tightening of him against Hannibal’s pulsating, now leaking, member, and the sounds falling from bruised, kiss swollen lip, were what helped Hannibal to release in a white hot jolt upwards into Will’s core one last time.

Both bodies were shot, exhausted, the quivers and aftershock waves still ran through them both, minimal groans from both Will’s and Hannibal’s lips, Will draped over Hannibal as he shuddered for a few moments after they had ridden out the high, Hannibal’s head turned slightly so he could press his lips to Will’s ear, murmuring breathlessly, “come to bed with me, Will, I want you to stay with me tonight. I want to see if it worked.”

Will nodded, his voice a breathless wisp as he clung to Hannibal, like he was a life preserve and indeed, to Will, he was. “Of course, Hannibal,” he hummed softly, the afterglow a pleasant experience that was a first for him. Hannibal held onto Will as he carried him, away from the office and up the stairs to the master bedroom, before placing Will in the spot next to where Hannibal normally slept alone. He sighed softly, a happy sigh, and he lent forward to press his lips to Will’s temple, muttering, “I’ll go and get our clothes, I’ll bring them back up here.”

Hannibal, as quickly as he could with his aching and burned out muscles, completed the deed, bringing both sets of clothes back up to the bedroom. He placed them in the corner, the pile a mixture of both of their items, and it made him smile softly to himself, nodding. He then made his way over to the bed, almost sighing again at the sight of Will, eyes shut and breathing even, relaxed. Hannibal lay next to the other man, the one he’d become attached to and was starting to feel something, he didn't quite know what yet, for. He closed his eyes, sliding closer to the younger man, and wrapped his arms around his waist, placing a soft kiss to the angry marks on his back and shoulder.

Hannibal decided then that they would share a shower in the morning, a slow one to soothe them both, and pressed another kiss to Will’s shoulder. Will smiled, relaxing completely and falling into a pleasant sleep, the murmur of “sweet dreams, William,” the only thing haunting and repeated in them.