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Too Great For the Eye of Man

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Will took one look at the right-hand drive rental car and tossed Hannibal the keys.

"Hope you remember how to do this," he said.

Hannibal ran his hand over the side of the car, radiating approval. "For her, I will try very hard."

Will loosened his shirt collar and slid into the passenger seat. It had been a long flight, and Hannibal had been on edge for days beforehand. No matter how careful the planning, there were always things that could go wrong. He was amazed Hannibal had trusted him with the travel arrangements; that was a first.

"Avoid the motorways and main roads, too many cameras. Take the scenic route." Will handed his phone over to Hannibal. "It's all in there."

Hannibal thumbed through a few screens and frowned. "It's going to take a long time."

"But even if they manage to track the flight to this airfield, we'll be a couple of hundred miles away from here by then." Will leaned against the car door and watched Hannibal stroke his fingertips lightly over the polished wood interior. Yes, he'd made a good choice. He closed his eyes. "Wake me when, you know." He waved a hand airily before settling it across his chest.

"When it's your turn to drive?" Hannibal sounded surprised.

"God, no. That's not happening." Will let his lips curl in a lazy smile and stretched his legs out. He could feel Hannibal's eyes on him. "I'm talking about when you're rock hard and the car can't blow you."

Hannibal was silent for a moment. Will could picture the look on his face.

"That may not take very long."

Will pressed his face against the cool surface of the window. "I'm counting on it."


Hannibal woke him maybe an hour later, by Will's estimation, though he didn't care enough to check. He just watched Hannibal's chin tilt up when Will reached over to pull down his zipper, watched him swallow twice, hard, when Will slowly stroked a hand down the hot, thick length of his cock.

He leaned over and followed it up with his mouth. Just his lips over the head at first, testing, then pressing a little harder, pulling off with a twist. He let his tongue tease against the underside, loving the way Hannibal's cock bobbed against his lips with each movement, sharp breaths coming from above his head. The familiar taste and scent of him filled Will's senses, arousal shifting the world into slow motion.

This was his favourite part: the anticipation. Not just his own, heat curling low in his belly, but Hannibal's too. At its best, when they had hours to spend touching and kissing, it rolled over him like warm honey, slow and languid with a promise of sweetness.

They didn't have hours.

They had the cold metal of Hannibal's zipper bumping up against Will's lips as he took him deeper. They had the sudden roar of noise and the stilling press of Hannibal's hand as lonely cars passed them on the road. They had the twists and turns of narrow country lanes, the whipping of unruly hedgerows against the window, the flashes of sunlight between the trees.

It was easy to get Hannibal off quickly if he could choose his angle. All he needed to do was lift his face with an oh so slightly exaggerated air of submission and Hannibal would grip his head, eyes darkening, and feed Will as much of his cock as he could take.

That wasn't going to happen here.

He focused inwards instead. If he could think of what he wanted to express, maybe he'd be able to communicate it. He let the thoughts tumble and flow, sinking into his projection.

This cock is all I want in my mouth. I exist only as a place for it to be pleasured in whatever way it needs. I will go happily without food or drink, just for the sake of spending those extra valuable minutes with my lips stretched around it.

Hannibal's breath hitched and his fingers tangled tightly in Will's hair. It was working, he was feeling it. Hannibal was close.

He wasn't the only one. Will had been thinking about doing this for days, restless in their bed while Hannibal paced and made terse phone calls late into the night. He'd missed it, missed Hannibal. Teasing his lips against the tip, he closed his eyes. He nuzzled, licked and kissed his way down to the base, leaving no square millimetre of skin untouched, not a one unloved.

Hannibal moaned softly, and Will smiled. He sucked him all the way down, hollowing his cheeks with the effort every time Hannibal tried to thrust with his hips. The third time, he swallowed hard and Hannibal came, gasping out his name.

Will licked his lips and settled back in his seat. Beads of sweat gleamed on Hannibal's temples, and his breath was still coming short and fast.

"Wake me when it's time for dinner," he yawned, and was asleep again in moments.


Dinner was uneventful, a mediocre meal in a quiet village pub. The only highlight was the landlady's dog, an apparently unassuming spaniel with ninja-like stealth and a criminal bent that would put Mafia dons to shame.

"You're lucky I like dogs," Will told him, watching his chicken leg disappear whole down Bobbin's neck, bones and all.

The landlady shook her head and brought him some cold meats on the house. "You're lucky he's already eaten tonight, or he'd have had your potatoes too."

Will was still chuckling when they returned to the car. He fastened the seat belt and thought maybe he could sleep another hour or two yet. Even without half his main course he was still pleasantly full.

"Wake me when--" he started, but Hannibal leaned over and stopped him with a finger against his lips.

"No," he said, and dragged his finger over Will's chin, then slowly down his neck and chest.

Will's breath caught in his throat when Hannibal reached his crotch and squeezed. He was hard almost immediately, his body remembering that it hadn't come yet today. He looked up and met Hannibal's eyes, almost black in the remaining daylight; he couldn't look away if he wanted to, not when he was like this.

"Keep yourself hard," Hannibal said, in a tone that said he was not going to be argued with. "Don't come."

Will slipped his hand into his jeans and rubbed. Christ, he could probably come now, if Hannibal kept up that voice. He should just tell Hannibal he didn't want to do this. Yeah, that would go down well.

He was also pretty sure he'd be lying. "For how long?" he said instead.

"Oh, Will." Hannibal gave him a sideways look as he started up the car. "For as long as I want, of course."


Hannibal didn't make him wait too long.

Will watched Hannibal's nostrils twitch on and off for almost an hour through a haze of lust; the scent of arousal in the enclosed space of the car must have been as much torment for him as the whole thing was for Will, given Hannibal's keen sense of smell.

"Hands on the hood," Hannibal said, bundling Will out of the car and already reaching for his zipper. It was barely dark, still warm and muggy, but the air felt good on his over-stimulated skin as soon as his underwear was down.

Will did as he was told, but jerked back as soon as his hands hit hot metal. "Jesus, that burned. This isn't going to work." He looked around, squinting in the poor light. "Are we in a cabbage field?"

Hannibal pushed him back down, ignoring the question. "It's what I want you to do, Will." His voice was calm on the surface, but Will knew he was hanging onto control by his fingertips.

The last time Hannibal sounded like that, Will couldn't sit down comfortably for days. He held up his hands and straightened slowly, making sure Hannibal knew he wasn't going to really fight him over this.

"Will." A warning.

"Just let me--" Will pulled at his shirt until the buttons popped open, and wrestled it off his arms. He stretched up as high as he could and spread himself across the overheated car hood; hands, arms, chest, and thighs. Everything. He squirmed until as much of him as possible was touching the hot surface; he could already feel his skin reddening at the contact. "There."

Hannibal was silent behind him, but Will could feel his eyes on him.

Then the heat intensified, as the weight of Hannibal's body covered his. He thought he might have whimpered, but Hannibal gave him two quick twists of slick fingers before he pushed his way in, opening him up, and Will devolved straight into obscenities at the matching burn inside him.

"Fuck, Hannibal," he gasped, over and over. "Fuck, fucking-- ahh, fuck--"

"You have a filthy mouth, Will," Hannibal said, one large hand pressing down on his back as he jabbed in and out of him, hard and fast. "I can only assume I am going too easy on you, if you can still speak."

He snapped his hips hard once, twice, and Will felt himself slide up the hood an inch or two each time, tender skin dragging on the metal, his cock pressing down on it too now. Its enthusiasm wasn't dimmed by the discomfort, which probably said a lot about Will's sex life these days.

The third time, Hannibal said, "You may come," and Will did, helplessly, streaking the car hood and himself in sticky stripes. Hannibal gripped his hips hard and followed him over the edge, breathing ragged and damp against Will's neck.

"Well, that was a thing," Will said, his voice hoarse. He wasn't sure which part of himself to try peeling away from the car first. "Clean up's going to be a bitch."

"I fear your shirt may be ruined," Hannibal said, with some regret. "It's under my feet somewhere."

"The buttons are certainly a lost cause." Will laughed, and felt Hannibal rest his cheek against his back. He relaxed into the touch and was rewarded with kisses along his spine before Hannibal helped him up.

"Your need to always raise the stakes intoxicates me," Hannibal said, when Will turned and leaned against the hood. He looked more relaxed than he had in weeks.

"Mostly it just makes me sore." Will touched the reddened skin around his nipple ruefully. He wasn't looking forward to checking out the rest of himself later, but he suspected Hannibal would be more than willing to play doctor. He grimaced when his cock gave a feeble twitch at that. "Also relieved that nobody invites me to their poker nights."

Hannibal nuzzled into his throat, licked a line up to his ear. Will always thought how like a dog he was when he was in this mood, but he kept that to himself. Somehow he didn't think Hannibal would appreciate the comparison.

"I wouldn't play poker against you either," Hannibal murmured when he reached his goal.

Will laughed outright at that. "Yes, you would."

"Not when there are many more fun games we have yet to play."

Will rubbed his fingers through the damp hair at the base of Hannibal's skull. "I'm going to hold you to that," he said softly, and let their foreheads fall together.


They arrived at the cottage in the early hours, bleary-eyed and in Will's case, uncomfortably stuck to his clothes.

"No, no," he protested when Hannibal pulled him into the shower. "Need sleep, Hannibal. Sleeeep."

"Someone went to the trouble of putting fresh sheets on the bed," Hannibal told him, lathering shampoo into Will's hair and ducking him under the spray. "I should like to enjoy them without the smell of the road on both of us."

"Not the road I st-stink of." He meant it to sound more suggestive than it did, but stuttering out a yawn halfway through rather spoiled the effect.

"Bed." Hannibal thrust a towel at him and kicked him out of the bathroom. "And dry your hair."

Will woke in the night still wrapped in the towel, damp hair drying into stiff tendrils over his eyes. Hannibal hadn't bothered to unpack anything, it seemed, just stumbled naked into bed with his head on Will's chest and pulled the covers over them.

Hannibal's face was as unguarded as Will had ever seen it, and Will fell asleep again memorising the lines of it with his fingers.

Next time he opened his eyes, there was a Hannibal-shaped empty space next to him.

"Certainly, Tessa." Hannibal's voice carried clearly through from, Will guessed, the front door. Hannibal wasn't going to let anyone in here yet, not before they'd settled in. He was a creature of habit. "It's very kind of you to invite us."

Will groaned, muffling it in the blankets. Friendly neighbours. They were going to have to spend the next few months with friendly neighbours. Hannibal was going to love it.

"I look forward to it, and I know how thrilled Leo will be." There was an amused lilt in Hannibal's voice if you knew to look for it.

Will thumped his face in the pillows. He was going to kill Hannibal.

He looked up when he heard a noise in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, Will." Hannibal did look at least a little bit apologetic. It would have been more convincing if he wasn't obviously trying so hard not to smile.

Will threw his pillow at him.

"I'm afraid some socialising is going to be necessary."

Will sighed. It wasn't as if he hadn't been prepared for this. "But you're still not going to tell me who it is you're looking for?"

"I want to see if you can spot them on your own." Hannibal sat down on the bed and rubbed his fingers in Will's untidy hair. "It's more fun for both of us that way."

"It's not the type of fun and games I was hoping you meant," Will said. He pushed the bedclothes down, feeling somewhere between sulky and wanton. Or maybe smack in the middle of both.

"It's important though." Hannibal stilled his hand, holding it down in his own. "Will you try to be patient with me?"

Oh, fuck Hannibal for being reasonable.

"For you, Hannibal," Will sighed, "I will try very hard."