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just you and me and a length of rope

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It all started when Will divulged a close-kept secret. “I liked it,” he said, darkness swirling around him as they lay in bed on the brink of sleep. “…Having you at my mercy at Muskrat Farm. When you were hanging helpless there and Verger put a knife in my hand, I liked it.” 

In the dark, Hannibal’s fingers traced a warm line from the back of Will’s arm up to his shoulder. “You didn’t want me dead.” 

“No,” Will said, shaking his head, closing his eyes to enjoy the sensation of Hannibal’s touch on his skin. “Didn’t even want you hurt. Not seriously. Just…mine to do with as I wished. I wanted Mason and the rest of them, even the pigs, to all be gone. Just you and me and…a length of rope.” He paused, tasting the truth of his desires. “Maybe the knife,” he added.

There was a smile in Hannibal’s voice when he spoke. “I think I would enjoy that,” he purred, and shifted against Will, smoothing a hand over Will’s chest. “But perhaps after a good night’s rest.”

Will had all but forgotten about the conversation, until he slipped into their bedroom to grab his glasses in the afternoon and found a coil of rope and a small, double-edged knife lying innocuous on the white bedspread. 

“You left me presents in the bedroom,” Will said when he found Hannibal in his small study a few minutes later, only just managing to keep his voice steady. 

A small smile curved Hannibal’s lips. “Presents for both of us. Did you like them?” 

“I don’t know. When can we…test them out?” 

Hannibal regarded him with amused interest for a few moments, then uncrossed his legs and stood up from the armchair he was occupying. “Now? I haven’t begun preparations for dinner yet, but we have some few hours, still.” 

Will swallowed. He was already getting hard. “Now, then.” 

 

He undressed Hannibal himself, unbuttoning the crisp white linen shirt he wore and sliding it off his shoulders; unbuckling his belt and letting his soft brown slacks fall to the floor. Will shoved his underwear down. Hannibal stepped out of them, and held out his hands for Will. 

Will shook his head. “Behind your back,” he said, licking his lips. Hannibal complied. Will used the rope to bind Hannibal’s hands there, tying knots that his dad had taught him as a boy on their many camping trips in the wilderness, pulling tight to ensure they stayed.  

Hannibal appeared as calm as he’d looked when he hung above the pig pen all those years ago, but Will could tell by the hard length of his cock he was just as affected by this as Will was. “What will you do with me now that you’ve got me helpless, Will?”

Will had left Hannibal’s feet untied, so Hannibal wasn’t completely helpless. He could escape if he really wanted to. But he knew Hannibal wouldn’t try to escape. Resistance wasn’t the point of this, after all. He made a mental note to procure at least two lengths of rope for next time, anyway. 

God, he was already thinking about next time.

Instead of answering, Will placed a hand onto Hannibal’s chest and pushed, until Hannibal fell back onto the bed, his body crushing his hands underneath him. Will took in the beauty of Hannibal, naked with his huge erection straining upward, eyes liquid as he stared at Will as though he regarded some powerful god. Will relished the feeling. 

He took the knife from the nightstand and flicked it open. It gleamed in the bright afternoon sunlight shining in through the window. Pushing his own pants down to expose his hard cock, Will climbed onto Hannibal and moved up so that he was straddling Hannibal’s chest. The added weight on Hannibal’s bound wrists must have chafed, because he let out a small, sharp exhale. His lips fell slightly open; the mask of calm slipped minutely. 

Will held the knife to Hannibal’s face and considered giving Hannibal a scar on his cheek to match WIll’s own, or maybe something on his forehead. No, maybe next time. Right now, he wanted something else. He trailed the tip of the blade over Hannibal’s lower lip, dragging it down so that it left a line of red when he pulled it slightly back. He shuddered when Hannibal released a small sigh and stuck out his tongue to lick at the flat surface of the blade. 

“I want your mouth,” he told Hannibal, voice no longer so steady. He dropped the knife onto the bedspread and moved to fist his cock, rubbing the head of it over Hannibal’s lips, his pre-come mixing with the trickle of blood that leaked from Hannibal’s lower lip. 

“Gonna fuck your mouth until you’re raw, and every thrust I take is going to make you feel this cut I marked you with here,” Will rubbed the head of his cock directly against the cut, “and there won’t be anything you can do to stop it hurting.”  

Hannibal’s eyelids fluttered at Will’s words, and that tiny inkling of his arousal elated Will. He reached down and gripped Hannibal’s hair hard as he eased his cock into Hannibal’s mouth. He made short, shallow thrusts into the warm heat of Hannibal’s mouth, Hannibal’s lips wrapped tightly around his dick. Then he twisted his grip to tilt Hannibal’s face up so that he could thrust in deeper, and deeper, until he felt the muscles of Hannibal’s throat seizing around him. Hannibal didn’t choke or sputter, just continued breathing through his nose, eyes half-lidded like a cat’s as he watched Will’s face. 

“God, your mouth is so fucking hot for me,” Will babbled, letting his hips quicken their pace, surging into Hannibal’s mouth, down his throat. “Your lips stretching around my cock. Christ. So fucking beautiful, bleeding and drooling all over yourself for me.” 

Will let go of Hannibal’s hair and smoothed a sweaty palm over Hannibal’s cheek, then trailed down to the Hannibal’s mouth. He hooked his thumb over the edge in-between the underside of his cock and Hannibal’s lip, and rubbed at the swollen flesh there. Hannibal’s arms twitched under him. “I love having you like this. So helpless and so willing to let me hurt you. Do anything I want with you.” It was terrifying how good it was to do this. How powerful he felt, and how beautiful Hannibal looked in this moment.

He drew his thumb back and used it to swipe at the mingled blood and saliva that was dripping down Hannibal’s chin as Will worked in and out of him. He brought the thumb to his lips and sucked on it, tasting Hannibal’s blood on his tongue. 

“I bet you’d let me take that knife and cut your chest open if I wanted to,” he continued, hardly knowing what he was saying, feverish with a need to own Hannibal, to have him. “Let me come in your mouth as you bleed out all over us.”

Hannibal’s eyes snapped shut for a moment; Will felt a deep, guttural sound vibrating around his cock, and then Hannibal shuddered as his control broke. Will felt come splatter hot and wet on his back and thighs.

Hannibal’s loss of control made Will lose his, too. With a soft moan, he resumed his hard grip on Hannibal’s hair and dragged him forward as Will fucked up into his mouth-–one, two, three thrusts were all that it took for Will to orgasm, and Hannibal swallowed it down, just as Will knew he would. 

Will fell back, breathless and gasping, arms barely able to support himself, Hannibal’s blood still on his fingers–-fuck, on his softening cock–and Hannibal’s come all over Will and the bedspread.

It took him a minute to regain enough of his faculties to get up. Hannibal hadn’t moved since Will had rolled off him. He was still lying there on their bed, head propped up on the pillow he’d landed on when Will pushed him over. His eyes were closed and he had a supremely blissful expression on his face. He smiled when he opened his eyes; he licked at his bottom lip, which still dripped with blood and saliva and Will’s come. 

“Shit,” Will muttered, and scrambled up to roll him onto his side. He hissed when he cut the rope and uncoiled it from Hannibal’s wrists. The rope had cut into skin and left raw, red chafe marks, and Hannibal’s hands were purple from lack of circulation. Will kissed both hands when Hannibal brought them around to the front of him again. “Next time we’ll put them over your head.” 

Hannibal smiled wider at the reference to ‘next time.’ Blood still welled from the cut on his lip. “I quite enjoyed it, as it was.  Did you enjoy the present as well, Will?” 

Will reached out to swipe at Hannibal’s lip with his thumb, smearing the blood across Hannibal’s cheek. He inhaled deeply and admired the aesthetic of all that red marring the perfection of Hannibal’s face. 

“Yes, I did. Thank you.”