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Adam’s eyes are so blue when they look up at him. Wide, pupils blown. His lips are pink, swollen from Will’s teeth against them. 

“You’re beautiful,” Adam tells him.

“That’s narcissistic.”

“No.” Adam tilts his head back on a gasp, high, tight. Will halts his motions and waits for him to breathe. “No, we’ve always been different.”

“You’ve always been better than me.”

Adam frowns. He wraps his fingers around the back of Will’s neck and pulls him in. They press together, matching halves, and Will rocks and rocks until Adam’s next words are lost entirely to a moan.

“I love you,” Will tells him, suddenly frantic. Adam is slick with sweat beneath him, too difficult to grasp. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Of course you do,” Adam tilts his head, sweet and innocent and Will is coming undone like the horrible mess he is, “I’m your brother.”

Will woke gasping, his hand already shoved into his briefs, cupping his erection. It took less than three awkward thrusts of his hips before he was coming, pulsing over his hand, hot and wet and shameful.

When it was over, Will stared up at the ceiling of his dorm room in disgust. The dream was always a terrible start to a morning. 

There was a reason he and Adam didn't share a dorm. A reason they went to separate colleges entirely. Will had deliberately chosen a field as far from his brother's range of interests as possible while remaining true to his own.

Because of this.

Because he'd been waking up in sweaty semen-slicked shame for well over five years now, just thinking about how good it would be to kiss, and touch, and -

"Shower," he groaned, shoving himself out of bed. "Cold fucking shower, Will. Come on."

Will  took night classes. Or close to night as he could, when lectures ended at nine and the library stayed open until half past two. The rest of the time he worked. He studied. He kept up his grades and he talked to Adam.

"It's your turn to call dad," Will told him, phone pressed between shoulder and cheek as he balanced a mug of coffee on top of his Abnormal Psychology textbook. "Yeah. It's his birthday, dumbass."

“I’m not a dumbass,” Adam said, as if that had ever stopped Will from calling him that. Will had always told him that it was his job, as the barely-older brother, to pick on Adam. Adam had never quite gotten the hang of insulting him back, but he’d learned that Will’s derogatory terms were affectionate. “And if it’s his birthday, you should call him too.”

“I texted.”

“Will! He’s going to spend the entire call upset about it! You text him and I get the lectures.”

Will grinned, settling in to a walled-off cubby in the library. “That’s because you never learned to screen calls.”

“It’s rude,” Adam said stiffly, but since he’d been telling Will how rude he was since middle school, Will didn’t pay him much mind. 

“Enough about Dad. Tell me about your coding project. Did you figure out the error you were getting?”

Adam was so easy to distract. All Will had to do was start him on a topic he liked, and Will could just listen to him talk for hours. And had, many, many times. He never got tired of Adam. 

Adam talked until he tired, until he ran out of steam and began to yawn into the phone. Will took pity on him, then.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Don’t forget about dad.”

“I won’t. Will?”


“I miss you.” 

Will swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “Yeah. Yeah, I miss you too. I gotta go, people are giving me dirty looks.”

"This is why you don't make calls from the library. For someone who can read social cues, you're terrible at it"

Will laughed, he couldn't help it. He allowed himself a moment more, sharing quiet breaths over the line with his brother, before telling him he loved him and hanging up.

Will stayed, as he had almost every night since he'd started the course, until just before the library closed for the morning. He'd always worked better at night; their dad had affectionately called him a lunatic when they'd been kids and Adam had gotten extremely jealous. Adam was a morning person.

Shoving whatever books fit into his bag, Will grabbed up the rest and made his way down the wide stairs and into the early morning air. He usually walked the six blocks to the dorms, a brisk pace that kept him awake and kept the occasional late night stroller at bay.

Tonight, Will was walking slower, his mind caught between the articles he'd been perusing about sociopathy and thoughts of Adam. He'd see him that weekend, they always spent the weekends together off campus somewhere, but it felt too far away even now.

If he thought about it, Will never heard anything. He never saw anything. There was a curious smell, like some exotic flower, before a hand covered his mouth and pulled him clean off his path and down an alley with inhuman strength.

Will tried to remember anything he’d learned about self defense. Anything at all. He got as far as ‘shove their nose into their skull’ before he was drawn back against a broad chest, lips at his ear.

“Shh, hush darling. It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Generally, people who were not going to hurt you didn’t drag you down dark alleys, but Will ceased his struggling. It hadn’t been doing him any good, anyway, and it was better to conserve his energy for a better opportunity. 

The man who’d grabbed him turned him around gently, far more gently than he’d grabbed Will, and pressed him back against the wall. He kept his hand over Will’s mouth, ducking his head to meet Will’s avoidant gaze.

“Not fond of eye contact, are you?” He said in a thickly accented voice. He was a handsome man, neatly dressed in a suit far too formal for the college campus. He smiled at Will as though they were old friends, meeting for the first time in a long while. His teeth looked sharp.

Will couldn’t shake his head with the way he was tightly backed into the wall. The man kept staring, his eyes seeming inexplicably more red than brown. “I’m not going to hurt you,” the man said again, and his voice sounded almost like a song, one Will had heard years before and was now struggling to remember. “Settle down. Trust me. Everything will be alright.”

The man dropped his hands, though he did not back away from Will. “There, now,” he said, “isn’t that better?”

Will shoved his palm upwards into the man’s nose, watching his head jerk back with some satisfaction. He didn’t wait for a response, ducking under his arm and bolting for the street.

The man was on him again before he reached the mouth of the alley, his arm around his waist and his hand silencing Will’s frustrated scream. 

“Aren’t you an interesting little thing,” The man whispered in his ear, sounding entirely amused and without the nasally quality Will would expect from a man with a broken nose. His nose brushed along Will’s throat, seemingly undamaged as he drew in a long, slow breath. “Very interesting.” 

Will whined in displeasure and struggled harder, tensing immediately when the man's thumb and forefinger moved up to squeeze against his nose, blocking off air entirely.

No, he wasn't going to die in a goddamn alley, not fucking today, and not fucking ever if he could help it. Will drew his legs up and tried to unbalance the man by hanging like a dead weight in his hold. He kicked back, aiming for knees and shins and groin, he clawed at the arms that held him secure.

Let me go, let me go, please let me go -

"Just relax, sweet thing. I've got you."

Will's breath hitched, vision already blurry with how hard it was to breathe, and thought of Adam. Adam when he laughed at something Will said, even when they both knew it hadn't been that funny, Adam frowning in the selfie Will had taken of the two of them the summer before, Adam drinking milk from the carton in the fridge, Adam sleeping, Adam calling his name to wake him up -

"Will," he shook his head, trying to clear away the cobwebs of memories and shuddered in a breath.

They weren't on the street anymore. They were inside, somewhere cool and quiet and Will immediately shoved himself back from the man who stood so near to him.

"Don't," he whispered, throat sore. "Please don't, please just -"

“I’ve already told you I’m not going to hurt you,” The man said, creeping closer, crawling over Will’s legs on all fours. They were stretched out on a bed, some monstrous thing with heavy, old fashioned curtains blocking out much of the light, drawn only enough on the one side for a sliver to peak in from the bedside lamp. 

The more Will noticed of his surroundings, the harder his heart began to beat in his chest. He squirmed backwards, trying to put distance between himself and the man, and only succeeding in nearly smothering himself in a mountain of pillows. 

The man chuckled, long-fingered hands grabbing Will’s hips and pulling him back down the bed a few inches. Will’s shirt rucked up from the motion, and the man buried his face into the exposed skin of Will’s stomach, humming softly against it.

“You have a rabbit heart, dear Will,” he murmured, pushing up until he hovered properly over him.

“A strange man dragged me down an alley,” Will reminded him in a rough, unsteady voice, “Anyone would be startled.”

“Hannibal,” the man said, nuzzling his face against Will’s throat next. Will braced his hand on the man’s shoulder, pushing at him with all his strength and finding him immovable.


“My name. It’s Hannibal.” Hannibal’s mouth pressed against Will’s throat, soft, tender, and then a sharp pain burst into being, startling Will so badly that Hannibal grabbed a handful of curls to hold him still. 

Will was sure he'd cried out, was sure he screamed blue bloody murder but it didn't matter… it didn't matter because warmth spread through his body like molasses, like stepping into sunshine out of an air conditioned room. Warmth that pooled in the hollow of Will's throat and shivered sparks through his chest, warmth that flexed his fingers against the unyielding body before him and coiled teasing between his legs.

He whined, pained and scared and needy , clinging to his captor like he had no other hope on earth. Will felt like he'd taken a breath after agonizing minutes underwater, like the first time he'd passed his exams at the top of his class, like the time his dad had taken them fishing and Adam had caught the biggest trout that day.


Will felt euphoric.

Slowly, like a photograph developing, sensations returned: silken sheets beneath his back, dusky light filtered through a gap in the curtain, a heavy body pressing him down, and his cock, hard and aching between Will's legs as he sobbed in pleasure.

Hannibal’s hand loosened its grip on Will’s hair when it became clear that he was going nowhere. Instead, he rested that hand on Will’s chest, right over his heartbeat, which thrummed along at a rapid pace. 

Will was burning. The mouth at his neck was fire, and Will was a man lost in the dark. Weakly, he brought up his own hand, twining his fingers through Hannibal’s soft strands and trying to push Hannibal further into his throat. 

Hannibal chuckled, and it reverberated through Will’s skin, down his spine, adding kindling to the flame that was taking Will over. Hannibal wasn’t even moving, was simply laying over Will’s body with his own, and it was more than Will had ever thought he could feel. 

“Please please please-“ Will’s own voice filtered in slowly, as the world around him grew brighter, sharper. He hadn’t even known he was speaking but now he begged, frantic and needy. 

Hannibal pulled away with a final suck, a deep, dragging pull that Will felt all the way in his cock, and Will was coming. Untouched and fully dressed, he convulsed against Hannibal’s body, against the growing thickness of Hannibal’s own arousal. It went on and on and all Will wanted was the bite again, those sharp teeth in his skin, devouring him while he rocked and sobbed his need. 

Hannibal just watched. The boy he'd studied for the last three evenings, for his cleverness, for his carriage, for his dedication to study and excellence; that boy now broke under the most blissful ecstasy in Hannibal's bed. When Will stilled, tremors of pleasure still twitching beneath his skin, Hannibal sighed.

"You are remarkable, sweet boy," 

Will's eyelids fluttered. He felt dizzy and at the same time hyper aware of everything around him. He tried to turn into the sheets, the most strength he could muster to 'get away' because he knew he had to, he knew he must, because otherwise he would die, right here in this bed, and that couldn't happen, that -

"Please," he tried again, shivering when Hannibal once again touched his stomach, slipped his hand under Will's shirt and teased over hard peaked nipples. Will bit his lip. "Please, no -"

"Lay still,"

Will sobbed again, tears hot against his face as he gritted his teeth and forced his mind to concentrate, to move away not towards the hand that touched him, the hand that was joined by another as both worked free his pants and eased Will's hips up to bare him.

No, no, no, he didn't want this, he didn't want it like this, Will wanted, he wanted -

"Look at me, Will," Will clamped his eyes shut and shook his head, unable to control the way his body undulated upwards as Hannibal drew his knuckles over Will's spent cock, down the insides of his thighs that he willingly spread for him. "Look at me."

Will trembled. He opened his eyes. And Hannibal kissed him.

Hannibal’s mouth was still slick with Will’s blood, tasting of copper and warmth as his tongue met Will’s. He kissed the same way he touched, sure, confident, gentle. Will whimpered and met the kiss with a weak, desperate response, shuddering as they separated only long enough for Hannibal to tug Will’s shirt over his head. 

Will didn’t want to die. He knew that, and nothing else. Anything else fled his mind faster than he could grip at it, chased away by the slick fingers that sought the very core of him. 

When the fingers breached him, Will turned away from Hannibal with a low moan. “I can’t,” he whispered, though he could no longer remember why, not with Hannibal spreading him open in coaxing pushes. 

“You can,” Hannibal’s mouth closed around a nipple, sucked hard until Will arched and clenched around his fingers. He trailed kisses over to the other one and sucked there as well, pulled gasps and whines from Will’s mouth with just lips and tongue. “You can, sweet boy,” he said with a mouth stained red, “Let me show you.”

Hannibal was big, and Will felt so small, covered fully with his thighs spread wide by large, cool hands. Hannibal kissed away tears that blossomed in the corners of Will’s eyes, nudging forward until his hips were flush against Will, and Will was squirming beneath him, too weak to rock forward or wriggle away. 

Will bit his lip and swallowed down a sound of need. It felt good. It felt tight and hot and full and good and he wanted it. He knew he wanted it as Hannibal ducked his head to lick over the marks his teeth had left on Will's throat, as he bit teasingly at his collarbone without breaking the skin.

"More," Will sighed, unable to fight this anymore, too tired, so tired. He managed to drape an arm around Hannibal and hold on as the man continued to worship his body from the inside out. Tears slicked down his face, into his ears, down over his septum when he turned his head.

This is what making love feels like Will thought vaguely, as Hannibal found his prostate and Will convulsed in pleasure beneath him with a cry.

Hannibal wrapped his fingers in Will's hair again, gentle with his touches as he spread the boy wider, pushed a flush of desire to his skin that Hannibal licked at with a broad tongue.

He was lovely. Even as Will continued to weep quietly in his arms as Hannibal worked him closer and closer to another orgasm, one Will's body fought valiantly against. Even as Will clutched at him. Especially when he turned his head to Hannibal's throat and parted his lips there, wet, needy breaths warming Hannibal's skin.

Oh yes. This one he would keep.


When Will went a day without texting, Adam thought he’d done something to make him mad. 

They fought sometimes, close as they were, and while Adam tended to yell and scream and then be over it, Will had always held on to his anger for far longer. 

But then one day became two, and then three, and when Will was not at the train station to meet him, Adam knew something was wrong. 

Adam didn’t have a key to Will’s dorm, but he had a vague, incomplete knowledge of his professors. He circled the broad buildings, but no one who’d heard of Will Graham had seen him. 

Adam booked himself a cheap motel room with the emergency card their father had given him, and staked out the library. 


In the days since he’d taken Will, Hannibal had learned quite a bit. He’d learned that Will accepted gifts in the form of books with a suspicious but grateful expression, that Will could have matched wits with some of the greatest minds Hannibal had met in his long life, and that Will had a hell of a right hook when Hannibal irritated him, little good that it did them. 

In none of their conversations, not even the second time Hannibal took Will to his own bed, pliant and needy and drained to the point of exhaustion, did Will mention a brother. 

Hannibal’s first thought, as he passed the library on his way to fetch more groceries for Will, was a momentary panic that Will had escaped. 

But this boy moved differently to Will. Where Will swaggered, this boy walked almost carefully. Where Will avoided eye contact tactfully, this boy did it deliberately. He stopped, now, by the library steps and looked up them like a puppy waiting for his owner. Shifting from foot to foot, checking his watch.

Looking for Will, Hannibal realized.

He'd grown very fond of him in their time together. It was rare that Hannibal kept a victim to drink from for more than one meal, and he didn't need to feed as frequently as he had in his far-forgotten youth. But Will… Will seemed to take as much pleasure from a feeding as Hannibal did. And his blood post orgasm was ambrosia to Hannibal.

And now there was another .


Taking Adam turned out to be simpler than taking Will had been, though he, too, responded not at all to the glamor Hannibal exuded. He didn't lash out as Will had, with violence and vigor. He thought of his brother, too, Hannibal noticed, as he succumbed to unconsciousness.

Very curious.

Perhaps Will would take this gift with less suspicion. 

Will’s sleep schedule had already been messed up, and so it had taken very little for him to adjust to Hannibal’s whims. He woke when Hannibal came for him and either slept after Hannibal left or passed out in Hannibal’s monstrosity of a bed and stayed there until enough blood had replenished for him to move. 

The room where Will was kept was not so extravagant as Hannibal’s, but still larger and more opulent than any Will had ever lived in. The bed was just as large as Hannibal’s, though without the curtains, and there was a bookshelf that Hannibal supplemented nearly every time he came for Will. 

Hannibal had only fed from Will twice, but he came every single day, bringing Will fresh cooked meals and conversation. Will had resisted the first day, but the second he’d found himself giving in. Hannibal was an intelligent man. Will didn’t like to think about how long he’d no doubt been alive, but he carried the knowledge of decades. He was also more than willing to share that knowledge with Will, or to indulge him in a debate on the things Will had been studying. Sometimes, when he tucked Will into bed and took his leave just before dawn, Will wanted to reach for him and pull him back. 

Hannibal was quiet, though. Sometimes Will would rise from sleep to find him reading in Will’s chair, inspecting the books to see what Will had been learning. Today, Will woke in a rumpled bed, curled up tight against another sleeping body. 


Adam, asleep and without a bite on his throat, but here. Here in Hannibal’s home. Here with Will, trapped as surely as Will was, and Will felt a sudden surge of emotion he couldn’t identify. He shot up on the bed, staring pleadingly across the room, where Hannibal sat in his chair looking immensely pleased with himself. 

“I’ve brought you a gift, sweet boy.”

“Hannibal,” Will begged, creeping from the bed as quietly as he could and coming to stand in front of the chair. “Hannibal, please. You can’t.”

Hannibal blinked, a bare tilt of his head to suggest the question he didn't voice, and Will looked back to his brother, sleeping soundly still. He couldn't understand why he felt as relieved as he felt agonized. Why seeing Adam felt like home and like a cruelty all at once.

He hadn't thought he'd see his brother again.

"You have me," Will whispered, "I won't leave you, I - I don't want to. Please let him go."

"I do have you," Hannibal agreed, reaching to stroke against Will's cheek, watching how the boy immediately turned into it, sought a deeper touch. "And now I have you both."

"Please," Will moved closer still, almost climbing into Hannibal's lap. "I can't see Adam hurt, I'd never forgive myself, he's… he's so special."

“Have I hurt you, Will?” Hannibal’s hands cupped Will’s hips, guiding him fully over Hannibal’s thighs. Will settled into place, a faint flush over his cheeks. Hannibal pulled him until their chests pressed together, planting kisses over the bitemarks he’d left in Will’s throat just two days before. “You should have told me I’d hurt you. I’d have made amends.”

“You haven’t,” Will admitted, eyes fluttering closed at the gentle tease of fangs against his skin. Nothing Hannibal had done hurt, even when Will expected it to. On the contrary, Hannibal treated him with all the delicacy of a virgin bride whenever he touched Will. “You haven’t, but…”

“I haven’t hurt you, and I won’t hurt Adam,” Hannibal promised, “But you can’t always have me all to yourself, greedy thing.”

Will blushed, a wounded noise slipping from his throat. He was not aroused enough to accept such words, not drunk on Hannibal’s fangs and cock. He pulled back, scrambling out of Hannibal’s lap. Hannibal let him go, an amused smirk on his face. 

They weren’t lovers. They weren’t friends, regardless of what it felt like when Hannibal came to him with no ill intentions. Hannibal still locked him in when he left, and now Adam-

“Will?” Adam’s sleepy murmur drew both of their attention. Hannibal got to his feet, gripping Will’s shoulders and turning him towards the bed. 

“Go ahead, sweet boy. Go say hello before we take our leave.”

Will tried again to protest, making it no further than a soft purr of sound as Hannibal drew a hand through his hair and tugged softly. Will flushed, humiliated and aroused, and climbed back into bed with his brother, wrapping himself close against him as they did when they were little.

"Hey," he tried to smile, immediately worked errant curls from Adam's face. "I've missed you."

"Where did you go?"

Will shrugged. What could he say? He'd been kidnapped by a vampire who'd been giving Will the best orgasms of his life for the last week while offering him interesting conversation and delicious food?

"Just don't freak out."

"I'm not scared," Adam told him, watching Will as Will watched him. His eyes honed in on the bite at his throat and Will ducked his head too late to hide it. "You're not hurt."

"No, no I'm okay. And you'll be okay. We both will. Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried," Adam replied, and Will snorted. God, he had missed him. He hadn't been radio silent from his brother a day in his life before this. He pressed their foreheads together and tried to forget that Hannibal was there, mere steps away, about to take Adam and -

He hated that he was jealous. Of both of them. It tore at Will and at once flared heat behind his cheeks. With a displeased hum, he looked over Adam's shoulder at Hannibal and bit his lip.

"I'll be here," he said quietly, words for Adam, eyes for Hannibal.

Hannibal stepped forward, holding his hand out. Adam looked from the hand, to Will.

“This is Hannibal,” Will said quietly, “He’ll take care of us.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of,” Adam said, brow furrowed, but he allowed Hannibal to pull him to his feet. Will watched him go with a heartbroken hunger, nearly whimpering at the way Hannibal smiled at Adam.

And then Hannibal turned back to Will, cupped his face in both hands, and kissed him, the way he always kissed him, so soft and sweet and loving. “I haven’t replaced you, sweet boy,” He murmured, “I could never grow bored of you.”

It helped. Not enough, but more than Will wanted it to. He watched helplessly from the bed as Hannibal led Adam out, knowing from experience that Hannibal was both faster and stronger than him, and running after them would be pointless.

Hannibal still locked the door behind them with a firm click.

“You took my brother,” Adam said, once Hannibal had him alone in his room. He looked towards the large bed with resignation, rather than fear. He did not even show Hannibal the tearful wariness Will had given him.

“I did,” Hannibal agreed, guiding Adam to sit on the edge of the bed, “But he has been whole and healthy in my care. We discuss books together. He’s happy here.”

“He’s not entirely whole,” Adam pointed out, “You bit him.”

Hannibal's smile pulled wide, showing his fangs. Adam didn't even flinch. As precocious as his brother, but in a quiet and much more refined way. He was keen where Will was cluttered.

"I did. And I will again. Does that bother you?"

"He's not frightened," Adam replied, that seemed to be answer enough. Hannibal was charmed.

"I will bite you."

"I know." Adam bit his lip softly, the only sign of unease he'd shown with Hannibal so far. Hannibal stepped nearer, crowding Adam a little until he crawled backwards; much less tolerance for invasion of his personal space than Will.

Except with his brother.


"Does that bother you?" Hannibal asked, leaning over the boy where he sprawled, drawing his nose over the tendons standing stark in his throat. Adam trembled.

"I don't know,"

"Shall we see?" Hannibal murmured, the tip of his tongue tickling the shell of Adam's ear.

“You’re going to anyway,” Adam said, shuddering.

“I am.” Hannibal mouthed his way down Adam’s jaw, coaxing more shifts and shivers out of him. “But I have no intention of seeing you afraid while I do it.”

“I don’t usually like to be touched.” Adam’s voice was breathy, his pulse quickening.

“What if I promise to only touch you in ways you’ll enjoy?” Hannibal grazed his fangs gently over the spot in Adam’s throat he preferred, the place where veins pulsed life over his tongue with every suck. Adam’s breath stalled and stuttered.

“Please?” Adam whispered. Hannibal bit down.

Adam was not as sensitive to Hannibal’s fangs as Will. He didn’t arch and whine and beg from the very first bite. But he did shudder, from head to toe, and clutch at Hannibal’s arms. When Hannibal made room for himself between Adam’s thighs, he found him half-hard and growing, making eager little ‘ah’ sounds when Hannibal cupped him and rubbed slowly over his cock.

Hannibal took his time with his thirst. Technically, there was no need to feed again so soon, but his curiosity had overwhelmed him. He coaxed Adam along as he satiated himself, feasting until Adam’s body began to slacken under Hannibal’s, though Adam’s arousal never faltered. Hannibal pulled back with a few cursory licks, lapping up the last droplets that spilled from Adam’s throat.

“Hannibal?” Adam murmured, hands dropping to either side of his head, no longer able to cling to Hannibal.

“It’s alright, little one,” Hannibal murmured, planting kisses down Adam’s chest with every button he undid, “I have you. You’re safe with me.”

“I’m so tired.”

“You will be. But that’s alright. You needn’t do anything but lay back and let me give you pleasure.”

"Mmkay," he sighed, eyes half closed, face turning into one hand as it rubbed his eyes in the most endearing way. He was a lot more pliant than his brother, but just as breathless, just as responsive when Hannibal found the right buttons to push.

Adam mewled when Hannibal took his cock between his lips, unafraid of his teeth, languidly pushing up to coax Hannibal to take more. Eager, lovely, utterly sweet in taste and nature.

So different to the stunning tearful boy Hannibal had enjoyed. Both entirely irresistible.

Hannibal brought Adam to completion, kissing his thighs as he trembled, smiling as Adam laughed, a gentle giggle.

"Feel good, lovely boy?"

"Yeah," he sighed, sleepy-eyed and flushed. He squirmed in bed just enough to unsettle Hannibal from between his legs, but welcomed him in again with a lazy reach of his hand.

Hannibal went, kissing blood-stained marks against his chest. Adam stretched beneath him, wanton, needy. Much more open to this than Will had been, despite his claim of not liking touch. Hannibal hummed, too, feeling Adam's cock twitch in interest again so soon.

"Aren't you sated?" He joked, watching as Adam's brow furrowed fussily. 

"I can help with that,"

Adam arched his neck, nodded, opened his eyes and smiled. Hannibal grinned wide again, pressing a palm wide over his slight hips to keep him still. When Hannibal hitched Adam's legs up around his shoulders he squirmed with pleasure, and when he leaned in to taste -

- Will's entire body jerked in response and he turned his face into the bed, biting his lip hard not to cry out. The image of Adam's pleasure flashed so sharply through his mind he could barely breathe. He felt it tenfold.

He felt the drag of teeth, the heated tongue, the pulse of his heart and his brother's…

"Fuck," he whispered. " Fuck …"

It had not been a specific physical sensation, more a wave. It had been steadily building since Hannibal took Adam, since Hannibal bit Adam, and Will had felt it, teeth in his throat but not deep enough for the mind-numbing pleasure Hannibal gave him.

After that, there had been flashes, at first, just little sparks of warmth rolling down Will’s spine, but they grew and grew until Will was squirming, until he reached this point where Adam was a constant presence in his head. Adam’s pleasure was Will’s pleasure, and Will felt it everywhere, over and over, leaving him gasping. He rolled onto his stomach, rutting against the bed, feeling helpless, feeling sick. He had always cut his dreams off come morning. He had never allowed himself to think of Adam when the haze of sleep wore off.

But now, Adam flooded Will, filled him up. He felt Adam, and then he felt Hannibal, the two of them twined together and yet distinct pleasures. Will gasped and jerked and whined into the bed, digging his own fingernails into the bite at his neck, a complicated pleasure overwhelming him.

Will came screaming, feeling too much to handle on his own, body shaking violently amongst the bedsheets. Adam’s own orgasm reverberated through Will, extending his pleasure without the oversensitivity Will would have felt on his own, just endless crashing waves until finally, everyone was sated. And Will was alone, in his head and in the bedsheets. And Adam-

When Hannibal was done with him, leaving a mess of fluid between Adam’s thighs, Adam was too exhausted to care. Hannibal wiped him up with a warm, wet cloth, gentle over the sensitive head of Adam’s cock and his sore entrance. 

“In the future, I would like you to sleep here with me in the aftermath,” Hannibal told him, “But your brother worries about you. And I would like to check on him.”

Adam nodded, curling on his side as Hannibal left him.

Hannibal took his time returning to Will's room, fingers flexing, tingling with the youth he'd stolen from them both. Their blood met and shifted within him, unique to each but recognizing the other.

He had felt the spike of arousal, the flame of Will's understanding and conscience like a pulse beneath his own. He'd felt it before, as the boy had lain dreaming beside him, as the boy had lain dreaming in his room, away from him. Will had an extraordinary mind, much more powerful than he knew the boy understood himself.

Opening the door Hannibal smiled, seeing Will splayed out in absolute debauched pleasure, thighs spread and shaking with the power of his orgasm. Half-dressed and filthy, hair tugged every which way…

"Naughty boy," he purred, grinning as Will cursed and tried to cover himself. "What has your beautiful mind been doing?"

“Nothing!” The instinctive, sharp denial of an embarrassed child, though of course, Will was only a child in comparison to Hannibal’s many years. Will heaved up a section of blankets, drawing them up to his chest as if he could somehow undo Hannibal’s knowledge. 

Hannibal sat down beside him, reaching for Will. Will drew back distrustfully. 

“Where’s Adam?”

“You know where he is,” Hannibal said, smiling at Will’s humiliated flush. “As you would also know if he’d come to harm. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“You know ,” Will said, mimicking Hannibal’s accent with a childish petulance that was beneath him. Hannibal ignored Will’s poor attitude in favor of drawing Will out from the blankets and into his lap. 

Will struggled like he hadn’t since that first night, frustrated tears brimming as Hannibal pressed his head into Hannibal’s shoulder. Unable to free himself, he gave Hannibal’s arm an irritated swat and then finally settled into place. 

“There needn’t be secrets between you and I, dear Will,” Hannibal told him, “you have the most interesting dreams. Tell me, who was it you were more envious of, Adam or myself?”

Will tensed, his entire body still as he hid his blush of humiliation further against Hannibal. After a moment, he trembled, unsure if he wanted to cry or fight or go limp and forget he existed. Hannibal drew a hand through his curls, easing them behind his ear.

"Such social taboos are new, beautiful boy. It wasn't always considered hateful or unwelcome."

"Please don't tell him." Will mumbled. Hannibal just hummed, fingers still working Will's curls between them.

"You think he doesn't know?"

Will made a helpless sound and Hannibal soothed him, wanting to tease, perhaps, but not upset his boy.

His boys , now.

"You feel so profoundly," Hannibal mused, turning his head against Will and kissing his temple. "A conduit of pure emotion. Pure empathy."

"Dad used to joke that I stole all of Adam's in the womb," Will said, turning his cheek against Hannibal's shoulder. "It's not true, you know. He feels things. He feels more than I do, I think. He just doesn't know how to talk about it."

“And now he won’t have to.” Hannibal tilted them both sideways, pulling Will down with him onto the bed. Soon, he would have to leave to check on Adam, but he would try and coax Will under first, sooth his terror and jealousy. “Adam will have you, and myself, and neither of us could possibly ignore his feelings.”

Will had known, on an intellectual level, that he was never going to leave. That Hannibal would keep him, would feast and fuck until Will drew his last breath. But now Will felt it, a bubble of warmth in his chest, of longing. 

Until this moment, he had always assumed Hannibal’s affection for him was feigned. 

“Hush, sweet boy,” Hannibal said in response to Will’s startled, overwhelmed whimper. “Rest. I’ll answer whatever questions you have in the morning.”

It took a long time for Will to sleep, but when he did, it was with Hannibal and Adam twined together mere rooms away, warming him from the inside out.