“Are you sexually active, Will?”
Will rolls his eyes, unimpressed. “How is this relevant to my therapy, doctor?”
“The level of sexual activity has a number of influences on the human psyche, as well as being a possible indicator for mental disorders. It’s a routine question that any reputable doctor would ask their patient.”
“I... prefer not to be sexually active”, Will admits reluctantly.
“The proximity to another person is distracting. I'm constantly worried ‘are they enjoying themselves?’, ‘am I doing enough?’ and in the end they lie and say it was good when in fact it wasn’t. It’s just altogether not an enjoyable experience.”
“Because of your empathy?”
“Because of my empathy.”
“I would think it could create a pleasurable feedback loop if you can sense the other person’s feelings. But the sensation overwhelms you”, Hannibal speculates.
“I can’t enjoy myself when I’m constantly bombarded by emotions like that.”
“What about the physical sensation, can’t that distract you enough?”
Will laughs. He knows Hannibal just wants to keep talking about sex now, for whatever reason. “My mind doesn’t shut off just because there is one more sensory input, doctor. That’s not how it works. Also, the men always want me to bottom and I don’t do that.”
“Why not?” Hannibal is intrigued now.
“It doesn’t feel good, I’ve done it to someone once and he said it was good, but I knew I’d hurt him and I felt terrible-”
“Stimulation of the anus, rectum and prostate can be very pleasurable for every man, I promise you. It merely takes more effort for some than for others to achieve that pleasure.”
“Are you some kind of expert on anal sex, Dr Lecter?”, Will taunts, amused.
“I have my share of experiences.”
Will files that away and wonders about Hannibal’s experiences during the rest of the session, which mercifully contains no more discussion of Will’s sex life (or lack thereof, as it were).
During the drive home, the conversation still sits in his mind, and by the time he’s in bed the thought has stewed long enough to make Will really curious. He could just try it and then tell Hannibal he’s wrong and it really isn’t enjoyable for him and that will be the end of that. Just to prove Hannibal wrong. He can’t read people like Will can and he has been misled.
Although ruminating on it, he’s not so sure that Hannibal would always be on top. Which would mean that Hannibal Lecter, the most prim and proper gentleman in the history of prim and proper gentlemen, has been fucked in the ass and enjoyed it. And he knows how to make others enjoy it. And suddenly Will’s cock is very much on board with the idea and giving it a try seems like a fantastic plan.
He coats his fingers with the lotion on the bedside table and tentatively touches between his cheeks. He feels his hole there, tight and puckered. It doesn’t feel like much. Pushing one finger in, he can feel that, it’s tight and he has to breathe out and relax until it goes in. It doesn’t really feel like much either. He tries moving the finger back and forth, but that actually hurts his tightly clenching hole.
Frustrated and horny, he turns over to thrust against the bed and get some friction on his neglected erection, but that just makes it more difficult to reach his ass. His hole stings after he’s taken the finger out. He ends up jerking off, and frustrated that although this endeavour was a success – proof that it doesn’t feel good – he doesn’t feel like he won.
He turns over in his mind a hundred times whether he should tell Hannibal about it. In the end he tells him just because otherwise this whole exercise would have been completely pointless. Proving Hannibal wrong was the whole reason for this, after all.
So he declares at the end of their next session: “By the way, you are wrong. Anal doesn’t feel good for me. I tried.”
Hannibal raises an eyebrow. “Did you try it between our last session and now?”
Will blushes hot because he knows exactly the pictures going through Hannibal’s mind right now. “Not like that. I tried to finger myself.”
“Did it hurt?” Hannibal looks hungry and oh Jesus, Will should have thought this through better.
“Not really, it just didn’t feel like much. No pleasurable sensation.” Hannibal hesitates. Will wishes he hadn’t brought it up.
“If you want, I could show you how to make it pleasurable”, Hannibal finally proposes.
Will’s blush is back in full bloom. “Show me how?”, he inquires and hates how affected he sounds.
“Just with my fingers. It would be like an anatomical lesson for you, to learn what your body can do.”
“With all due respect, I don’t think you can teach me anything about my own body, Dr Lecter.” Will’s mind is screaming Hannibal’s fingers in my ass, Hannibal talking about anatomy while I’m completely coming apart-
“Are you doubting my professional opinion?”
“No, but... you said only fingers?” He’s curious now.
“Okay. Okay, if I say yes – and this is not a yes yet – how would you do it?”
“We could do it on the couch right here. You would lie down with a pillow under your hips, naked from the waist down. Or we could do it in my bed, if that makes you more comfortable. Or yours.”
“Here is fine.”
“So are you saying yes?”, Hannibal asks with a small smile.
“Yes.” It’s not like he is going to enjoy it anyway. Hannibal will see that and admit defeat and Will will be the first and only one to have proven Hannibal wrong on anything ever – yeah, actually, he’s not so sure that’s how events are going to develop. But either way he either proves Hannibal wrong, which would be a big win, or he gets an orgasm out of the first sexual encounter with another person in a long time, which would still be a win. And he doesn’t have to worry about Hannibal’s thoughts and feelings because Hannibal suggested this himself and Hannibal wouldn’t do anything he doesn’t want, he’s sure of it.
“Do you want to do this right now or next time?” This is his last option to back out.
“No point in delaying this.” Will is agitated and flustered, it seems unreal that Hannibal is about to touch him.
“Then please undress from the waist down and lie on your front while I go get a lubricant.” And just like that, Will feels awkward again.
But Hannibal left his office for the moment in pursuit of a lubricant, and the only thing more awkward than stripping in Hannibal’s office is stripping in Hannibal’s office in front of Hannibal. He undresses and folds his pants and underwear on the chair, sets his shoes neatly beside the chair and debates whether it would look weirder if he kept his socks on or if he took them off. He decides to keep them on, not wanting to look overeager.
He ends up lying down on his front on the couch, a pillow arranged under his hips as per request, because he feels less exposed that way and he doesn't have to look at Hannibal. He doesn't see the expression on Hannibal’s face when he pauses on the doorstep as he returns, lube in hand, and catches sight of Will, ass up.
He hears him walk up and sit down at the foot end of the couch. Will’s face is burning where he presses it into the upholstery. Hannibal’s hands are firm and warm on his thighs as he parts them a little.
“Will, I need you to relax. If you need to stop at any moment, just say so. Deep breaths.” Hannibal's big hands part his cheeks then and Will's asshole flutters against the cool air and the strain. “Beautiful”, Hannibal murmurs reverently and Will feels exposed and vulnerable, baring his most intimate parts to Hannibal, and he feels himself harden from the shame and humiliation of it.
One slick thumb is being rubbed firmly over his opening then and Will tenses up (no one’s ever touched him there before, oh God, Hannibal can see me, feel me -), and then slowly relaxes, the touch soothing and confident. The thumb massages in circles around the rim, which feels nice as Will gets used to being touched there, like a massage in a very specific place, and while it’s not pleasurable exactly, Will thinks he could get used to this. He might fall asleep. He wonders if Hannibal would consider that rude. Probably.
His muscles now unclenched and loose, softened by the insistent stroking, the tip of the thumb starts dipping in, just a little bit.
“You're doing beautifully so far, Will.” Hannibal’s voice is deep and rougher than usually and it goes straight to his cock. Knowing that Hannibal is enjoying this is turning him on more than the physical sensation, which still feels merely soothing.
“I'm going to put a finger in now”, Hannibal warns and then pushes his thumb in, still making Will gasp at the sudden sensation despite the warning. He is so relaxed and loose that he doesn’t even feel it penetrating him until it’s inside and stroking his inner walls.
It still doesn’t feel like much, only his hole is tingling and sensitive after being massaged. Will is almost disappointed. The thumb pops in and out a couple times, which. Yeah. That’s pretty good. The thumb disappears and an index finger comes back while the thumb goes back to stroking around his hole and the combined stimulation feels overwhelming after all this teasing, not at all unspectacular like when he did it himself.
The index finger keeps stroking towards the front and Will is about to ask Hannibal what the fuck he thinks he’s doing when – holy fuck. The stroking suddenly feels amazing, sending lightning through his body and make him moan and quiver involuntarily, he hasn’t felt this acute arousal since he was thirteen and first began touching himself.
“Oh, oh God, what is that?” he moans, shaking and rocking back against the finger that is rubbing him so good, so right.
“That, my dear Will, would be your prostate”, explains Hannibal sounding decidedly pleased with himself, but also kind of really turned on. “Do you want me to go on?”
Yes, yes, Will is increasingly delirious, chasing his pleasure – he isn’t even thinking about his cock, rock hard and leaking precum onto Hannibal’s expensive pillow, but rocking back mindlessly into Hannibal’s hand. “Don’t you fucking dare stop”, he gets out between moans.
“If you ask so nicely, I won’t refuse you your wish.” And he pulls his index finger out, making Will lift his ass up and whine at the loss, but returning with two fingers just a moment later, filling him up deliciously, even better, moving in and out of his sensitive opening and always stroking over his prostate. Will is moaning continuously now, too far gone to be ashamed, sweaty and blissed out.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please, oh God, just fuck me.” The fingers still. “No, no, keep going, keep going, I need more, I need you to fuck me, oh God, Hannibal, fuck me!”
“You said only fingers”, Hannibal points out cautiously.
“I don’t care what I fucking said. Need your cock, Hannibal. Need it in me. Please, Hannibal.” Will is thrusting his hips inadvertently, his hole glistening with lube, soft and open, clenching as if it could catch the fingers back that way.
“Yes. Okay. One moment.” Hannibal sounds stunned and really aroused as if he was the one who just got fingerfucked within an inch of his life.
He hears the sound of a belt buckle being undone and the crinkling of a condom wrapper being opened and just a moment later the thick head of Hannibal’s cock is pressing at his opening, feeling instantly more gratifying than his comparatively slim fingers and Will moans wantonly and pushes back. Hannibal then pushes in and it slides in smoothly with no effort at all, Will being so stretched out from Hannibal’s earlier ministrations, until his hips are flush to Will's and it fills him up so perfectly, oh God, he doesn't know how he missed out on this all these years. He’s stuffed full and vulnerable and it’s so intimate, he can feel Hannibal’s cock throbbing hot inside him and feel how much he wants this, too.
“Fuck me”, he repeats. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me” and Hannibal does, starts moving, creating a delicious drag against his insides. “Yessss”, Will sighs and pushes back to meet each deep perfect thrust against his prostate.
“Harder”, he begs after a short while, between moans, he just needs more, always more of this. “Fuck me harder, doctor.” Hannibal stutters in his deep, controlled thrusts and pushes in hard, abruptly. He leans down then, chest flush with Will’s back and whispers in his ear. “Say that again.”
“Fuck me, doctor. Please, I need it so bad, harder, more – fuck me harder, Dr Lecter, please, doctor -” He is cut off then by a harsh violent thrust and Hannibal crowding even closer, an arm snaking around his neck and holding him tight as he’s fucked mercilessly hard and fast.
“Is this what you want? You need me to fuck - you – this - hard?” The last words are each punctuated by a thrust. “I want you to come, Will, can you do that for me?” Hannibal growls and bites down on the top of Will’s shoulder, the pain a sharp rush of pleasure to add to his ecstasy, Hannibal’s free hand finding Will’s cock under him and completely surrounded and owned like this, Will finally comes with a sob, and keeps coming, clenching hard on Hannibal's cock, providing an excellent feedback loop of pleasure and he just peripherally realizes that Hannibal is coming as well, convulsing on top of him, cock jerking hotly inside him, biting into his shoulder even harder.
Hannibal kisses his bite mark after and pulls out carefully, coming to rest lying half on top of Will. Will turns around dazedly after a minute to face Hannibal.
“If you say ‘I told you so’, I’m never letting you do that again”, Will informs Hannibal once he catches his breath. Hannibal bites his tongue, but still manages to convey an absurd amount of smugness with his face, which is kind of preposterous considering he’s also still kind of lazy and slack-jawed from the mindblowing sex.
“Did I do well enough for there to be a next time? Maybe I should start charging you for these sessions.”
“Shut up, Hannibal, I’m still recovering here.”
“If you’re rude to me, I might not extend you this courtesy a second time.”
“Actually, next time I could show you how to do it to me. Would that be agreeable to you?”
“Whatever, as long as there is a next time.”
“For you always, Will.”