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When Will’s father sent him to the psychiatrist, he told Will that “this guy better be able to fix you. He’s expensive enough.”

The doctor tells him, on their first session, that he never read his previous psychiatrist’s referral and comments about Will’s situation. Will scoffs at it. He thinks he did, but was pretending to not take their words seriously. Who would honestly meet a patient unprepared for the situation? Only one arrogant enough would.

Hannibal Lecter was indeed different, as he found out.

Will didn’t expect to come to like the man so much. He opened up to him, telling him some of his childish exploits analysing his teachers and the boys that bully him in school. He tells him he snoops around for interesting cases that appear in the newspaper. He had even been caught once by a police officer at a crime scene, but he ran away so he couldn’t be scolded. He never tried again.

He tells the doctor about his headaches and pain, about his elaborate thoughts on what motivates criminals. Hannibal always looks impressed. He was hungry for knowledge, and felt like he learnt from the doctor as much as the doctor was helping him.

Dr Lecter seemed to enjoy his presence, asking the boy to stay over for lunch twice. Will enjoyed simpler foods, and his appetite was hearty. The doctor was pleased when he asked for seconds.

He was taken aback when Dr Lecter kissed his hand on their ninth session. Will didn’t stop thinking about it the entire week, distracted and thinking what that gesture meant. He fumbled slightly in school, paid less attention to his life and more to the doctor.

He was fifteen, and Dr Lecter had to be more than ten years older than him. He had a feeling that Dr Lecter knew Will wouldn’t say a thing to anyone, and that the graze of his lips against his knuckle would make Will over think and overanalyse about... feelings.

The night before the next session, Will called him. Hannibal’s voice didn’t sound rough from sleep. He wondered what he had been doing.

“Doctor Lecter?” he says, sounding hushed and shy. Will hopes his father wouldn’t realise he was using the phone at 3 am. “I’m sorry for calling at this hour.”

“Don’t apologise. What’s the matter, Will?”

“I—I couldn’t sleep.” He says, “I was thinking about—” he starts to blush profusely, stammering, “A-About last week.”

“Was it something I did?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know,” Will says, sounding slightly frustrated. He tugged onto his messy curls, “You kissed my hand on purpose. So I wouldn’t stop thinking about you.”

The doctor chuckled in his ear. “I might have possibly done that.”

“That’s so manipulative,” Will accuses, “You—you knew this would happen. That I would think about it so much and now I’m hesitant to come tomorrow.”

“Why are you hesitant, Will?” he says calmly.

“I haven’t stopped thinking of you once. I think I’m—I’m infatuated, doctor.” He huffs, not bothering to specify with who, “You wanted that to happen. You treated me so nicely. Do you do this with all your patients, Doctor Lecter?”

“No,” Hannibal says, “Only you.”

“Do you—always do that to boys my age?” Will accuses again.

“I don’t,” Hannibal responds, sounding a tad more serious, “I am deeply fascinated with you. Had I met you when you were older, I believe the same fascination would stand.”

Will goes a bit quiet, and then mumbles shyly, “You really like me?”

“Yes,” Hannibal responds gently.

“Oh.” Will pauses and bites his lip, his heart beating fast, “How am I supposed to sleep now? You know how I can’t stop thinking, and you’re--”

“Calm down, darling boy.” The doctor says, “Are you in bed?”


“What are you wearing, Will?”

Will doesn’t answer for a moment. “Are you trying to initiate phone sex?”

“No. I’m trying to make you more comfortable. It is a warm night.”

“Um. Okay. I’m wearing a t-shirt and boxers.”

“Take off the shirt and tuck yourself in, Will.”

“Kay,” he mumbles, and Hannibal hears the rustle of sheets, “I dunnit.”

“Good boy,” he says, and Will could feel a shiver creeping up his spine at the compliment.

“Are you—are you going to have sex with me during our appointment?” he asks, hushed. Will puts his thumb in his mouth, suckles.

“I won’t force you into anything, darling boy,” he says gently, “I won’t do anything to hurt you.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever hurt me,” he says, sounding a bit sleepy, “You’re not like anyone else. You’re not like... my dad.”

“Did he say anything to you tonight?”

“No. And I suppose that was it,” Will says, “He doesn’t say anything of use to me anymore. But you do. And I enjoy that.” He says quietly, “You understand me so much. I might even let you fuck me because you’re—so nice.”

“Ah. Language, Will.”

“I wish you were here,” Will says petulantly.

“Sleep now.”



Will goes through school the entire day with the lingering memory of the phone call. He feels like he was holding onto some dirty secret, and it makes him feel filthy and good. He feels confident in the knowledge that he wasn’t completely alone, that the doctor, an intelligent, handsome man, had so much interest in him. That he has a real friend, that Dr Lecter might possibly be more.

He arrives five minutes before their appointment, nervous and jittery. He tightens the scarf around his neck, and doesn’t take off his jacket.

He looks up when the door opens. The doctor is finely dressed as usual, looking at him with a smile. “Will,” and his raspy voice sounds good saying his name, “Come in.”

The door closes with a click. Hannibal lingers around the boy, then places a gentle hand on his small shoulder. “You haven’t taken off your jacket,” Hannibal says, and began to unravel his scarf, and pull off his coat. The man’s touch lingers. He hangs them on the coat rack himself and Will looks up at him expectantly, looking shy and adorably innocent.

It was a gorgeous look on him.

“This won’t be like our usual appointments, right?” Will asks him boldly.

“Not if you want it to be, no.”

“Good. Because I—” he swallows, “I think you’re mean. You know it would be difficult for me to act normally after you tell me such things. That you like me and-”

Hannibal quiets him with a gentle kiss. He crowds him against his desk, the embrace quickly growing filthy and rough. Will grips onto his vest, rumpling the material, whimpering when the man’s tongue traces his bottom lip, touching over the roof of his mouth. He feels the man’s heat against his, how his thigh presses in between Will’s legs. Will trembles.

Will gets pushed down onto the desk. He makes a surprised noise, looking at the doctor, his face flush with embarrassment.

“W-What are you going to do to me?” he asks shakily.

“I’m normally a patient man, Will.” The doctor cups his smooth jaw, runs his long fingers over his neck, and traces over his collarbone. “But you’ve been testing my patience, haven’t you? I have my limits.”

The kiss he presses to the boy’s neck was hot. Will’s breath stutters in his throat, clutching onto the doctor.

“You’re so insolent,” Hannibal says, “Offering yourself to be fucked.” The profanity sounds filthy from his mouth. The doctor’s raspy voice grows rougher. “You thought you could get away with saying that—without me going through with it.”

The older man unbuttons his shirt, his touch growing a bit hungrier. He thumbs at the boy’s pink nipples, pinching and sucking until they grew reddened and bitten.

Will moans shyly and clutches at his shoulder, and gripped tightly when Hannibal used his teeth.

“Oww, ow, that’s too much,” he complains, his voice growing slightly high pitched. “Doctor Lecter, I’m—” he helplessly hitches his hips up a little, “I’m getting so hot.”

Hannibal nearly salivates watching the boy offer himself.

Will was so submissive, it was lovely.

He was spread beneath him, shirt askew, curls framing his delicate face, flush in his cheeks. He was beautiful.

“You’ve no idea how much I—” the man kisses his insolent, pretty mouth, “adore you, don’t you?”

Will’s pupils were dilated with lust when he pulls away, “No,” he says, challengingly, “You haven’t said.”

Hannibal smiles fondly at him for that.

He pushes a finger into his mouth. Will sucked on it obediently.

The boy was beautiful. The tent in his jeans was fat, but he was so shy about it that he began to press his thighs together.

Hannibal pushes his legs open and gets between. He pins down Will with a heated gaze and his large hand over the boy’s hip, and begins to unbuckle his belt.

Will flushed all the way until his neck. His breathing starts to go erratic, because the look in Hannibal’s eyes started to go all dark and hungry, tugging off his pants and boxers until the boy was prone and naked in front of him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Will whispers, embarrassed.

Hannibal kisses his inner thigh, his eyes raking over his entire body, over his drippy cock and the boy’s pretty little hole.

“Like what, darling boy?”

“Like you wanna eat me up.”

The doctor chuckles, “I’ve always looked at you like that. You just haven’t noticed.”

Hannibal kisses his boy again. They looked like a contrast. The doctor was still immaculately dressed, and Will was naked and pretty beneath him, pressed against the desk.

Something within him snaps. He roughly pushed Will’s thighs apart, rubbed big fingers against his hole.

“I’ll fuck you so hard,” he snarls. The profanity was still very startling, and Will’s eyes widen. “You won’t be able to walk properly. You’ll never stop thinking about me, Will.”

The boy whimpers, his cock twitching and dripping.

His body was so young and eager.

Hannibal tore into a packet of lube from his pocket and slicked his fingers with it, and dripped the rest messily over the boy’s tight little bum.

“That’s cold,” Will mumbles, his breath hitching, “Are you really gonna do it? I haven’t—done this before.”

He was so delicious. Hannibal wanted to possess this boy.

“I am,” he began to fuck his fingers inside, hearing Will gasp and moan, gripping onto Hannibal’s wrist insolently. “I’ve been impatient.”

“Unh—that’s too much-” he whines, tugging onto Hannibal’s wrist, like he wanted his fingers out. His little hole screwed up tight.

“Shh, shh—” Hannibal whispers, the glint in his eyes animalistic. “You’re a good boy. You wouldn’t want to be insolent, would you?”

His big fingers were pushing in, in, in. The slick squelching noises were so lewd that Will was embarrassed for himself, and he began to cover his face, muffling his own whimpers.

His cock spurted precome despite himself, and Will gasped and looked up when Hannibal began unbuckling his own belt and pulled down his zipper, the sound loud in the office.

It was the first time Will had seen a grown man’s aroused cock. He blushes, despite himself. “It’s too big,” he complains, his breath shuddering, “W-Won’t fit inside me, Doctor Lecter, please—”

“I’ll make it fit,” he half-snarls, “I’ll make you take it, darling boy.”

Hannibal kisses him roughly. He fingers him until the boy’s cock starts to throb, and Will gripped onto his forearm desperately so he wouldn’t stop.

He whines sweetly when the man pulls away.

“Doctor Lecter—don’t stop, hgh, don’t tease me,” he begs.

Hannibal doesn’t. He fucks into the boy, makes him full.

The boy sobs.

He bares his throat, his head thudding against the desk. His fingers clutch onto Hannibal’s sleeve, desperate and hot.

“You don’t have any idea, do you, my boy,” the doctor snarls in his boy’s ear. “You have no idea what you’ve done to me.”

“You’ve made me so fucking obsessed,” he growls. His fingers tighten around Will’s hip, bruising him. The profanity still unnerves Will, because the doctor was normally so controlled and his words were filthy and domineering. “What were you thinking, Will? That you would get away with asking me if I did this to boys like you?”

“N-No, I—AH, ah, no, Doctor Lecter—” Will yelps.

“That’s impossibly rude, darling boy.” Will was tearing up from being pinned and fucked roughly. His big cock raked over the boy’s prostrate, and he keened from it, his small hips lifting up.

“You can get away with it,” he growls, “Because you’re mine.”

The words send a shiver down Will’s spine. His voice chokes when he creamed all over himself, spunk dripping over his flat tummy, and he whimpers when Hannibal doesn’t stop.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he says roughly, “Won’t you, gorgeous boy? I’ll cum in you, make you walk with it inside you back to your father, like the filthy boy you are.”

Will flushed in embarrassment. He hid his face behind his palm.

“D-Don’t cum in me,” Will begs.

“I’ll claim you,” he swears. His thrusts grew so rough it hurt for the boy, and he was almost animalistic, it nearly scared Will. “I’ll breed you so deep, you’ll feel it for days. You’re mine, Will. You hear that?”

Will had to grip onto the desk top, making desperate little noises until the man came hard, hot and thick inside him.

Hannibal kisses his boy’s mouth adoringly, like his domineering persona hadn’t even emerged during sex. When he pulled out, a string of cum dripped from his dick.

“You didn’t listen to me,” Will mumbled tiredly, absently sticking his thumb into his mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you normally this rough?” Will asks, his blue eyes half-lidded, sitting up and wincing. “Ow,” he complains, then rubs absently on the bruise marks over his small hips. “I feel so wet. M’gonna be so sore, Doctor Lecter.”

Hannibal smiles at him with affection, tugging away Will’s hand from his mouth.

The boy was awfully devastating.

He takes in the boy’s scent around his neck. He still smells beautiful.