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Dialling Hannibal's number was foolish. Lying down in bed was foolish. Unzipping his fly was foolish. And yet Will did each of those things in that order, and shoved a hand down between his trousers and boxers to palm at his growing erection while he waited for Hannibal to pick up the phone.
"Hello?" And so it began.
Will made sure to act as casual as possible when he replied, "Dr. Lecter."
On the other end of the line, he heard a repetitive thud like a knife against a chopping board. Also, Hannibal, who sounded very pleased to be getting a call from him. "Will, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Already, Will's body reacted. A slow throb between his legs, a pang of anxiety in his chest. To get what he wanted, Will only had to keep the man talking.
Very, very carefully, Will shifted his hips and sat up a little straighter. He cleared his throat and said, "I know it's late, I just was wondering if I should come to yours tomorrow… for dinner?"
Water splashed on Hannibal's end while neither of them spoke and Will waited for his response. "You can if you like, I'm always welcome to company," he confirmed, delighted and none the wiser to Will's perverse intentions.
Will wanted him to talk. Hannibal adored long rants, anecdotes, rambling on in that deep, smooth cadence Will desperately needed. All he had to do was prompt him correctly. His thigh muscles fluttered with arousal but he held off from properly touching himself until he'd guaranteed maximum satisfaction. From across the room, by the fireplace, Winston gave him a judgemental look and a huff before laying down with the other dogs. Needless to say, the whole ordeal had Will feeling like a pathetic loser.
"Okay, great. Uh, what do you think you'll make?" he asked. Surely that'll get him going, he thought, getting impatient.
Hannibal set his phone down with a click so Will knew he was on speaker. "Can't we leave that a surprise?" he suggested, water running again in the background.
Shit. Will searched his mind for something else. "Alright, fine. You're cooking now?"
"Yes."
Checking his watch was awkward because he wore it on the wrist of the hand grabbing at his half hard dick, it read roughly 11pm. "It's a little late for dinner, don't you think?"
Something sloshed and shook and Hannibal said, "Perhaps, but I had a long day and I'd like to eat before I sleep."
"Uhuh," Will mumbled. They rarely spoke so casually, any other time Will had called about dinner, he would've hung up by now. He wondered if Hannibal thought it was odd that he wanted to actually have a conversation. "Tell me what you're making."
"…Why?" So yes, he did think it was odd. All action on his side went silent and Will tried his best to be equally as quiet, God forbid his phone pick up the rustle of his clothes or him in bed. Hopefully, Hannibal thought he was just up making lures or whatever other hobbies he knew Will had from snooping in his home.
"I'm curious." Will prayed he didn't come across as sultry to Hannibal as to himself.
"Kreatopita." A knife slid out from its holder with a satisfying shing.
"And how do you make whatever that is?" Of course, Will didn't really care how and vaguely knew the dish to be some sort of pie already but asking would get him results. Plus, Hannibal probably had some especially pretentious way of cooking it and in that moment, Will needed to know all about it.
Hannibal teased, "Awfully curious, aren't you, Will?"
Will's heart jumped and he suddenly, despite the dangers of being caught, pulled himself out of his underwear. The fabric made a sound but not one Hannibal picked up on. "Are you going to tell me or not?" He asked, agitated and aroused.
"Alright then." After his confirmation, Will muted himself. Thankfully, Hannibal's explanation was thorough. "It's a Greek meat pie, not the most visually interesting but sometimes I do just enjoy things for the taste. Traditionally, it requires two different cuts of meat…" he went on and as he did, Will undressed without worry of being overheard. Being so exposed with Hannibal's voice calm and consistent in his ear sent shivers down Will's spine. The cold room prickled at him but his dick felt feverishly hot in his fist. If he closed his eyes and held the phone not quite touching his ear, he could imagine Hannibal right there. He talked Will through it with each measurement and ingredient and seasoning, the continuous thud of his knife guided Will's quick pace. He described the dish as aromatic and Will pictured his sharp nose in his hair, taking in his scent and telling him what cut of meat he'd use from him. Then he had to hold the phone between his shoulder and ear, too busy using both hands to squeeze his entire length when it throbbed unbearably at the thought of being eaten. He fucked his steady grip, huffing and grunting and getting achingly close. Almost to the point of no return when Hannibal faded back in. "I had pork left over from last night otherwise I might've chosen something else— Will, are you aware that you've muted yourself?"
The frustrated, breathy groan Will released at the interruption startled even himself, and several of his dogs but he took no notice of them. The phone dropped down onto his chest, causing Will to panic and check three times over he hadn't accidentally pressed any buttons. Once he knew he hadn't, he thought up a quick excuse before taking himself off mute. "Hm? Oh yeah, the uhm, the dogs have been barking on and off all night so… Keep talking," he encouraged, nodding despite not being visible (and thank God he wasn't).
Everything must've sounded perfectly fine to Hannibal because he continued on. And so did Will. He wasn't sure how long he could keep Hannibal on the phone for but he was determined to finish before the other man tried to hang up, lest he come across well and truly desperate for human interaction. Checking and double, triple checking he'd muted again, Will got back to work. He almost hissed when he grabbed himself again, the shock shooting into the balls of his feet. His sweaty palms slid against the sensitive skin of his cock so smoothly that Will couldn't bear to not go faster, to securely grab the base and rub his sticky tip with a flat palm repeatedly. The touch burned, his hips bucked uncontrollably and his head fell back as he took a ragged breath in. It felt so good his hand almost flinched away but once he knew the sensation, he couldn't unlearn it and he'd be damned if he came without it.
Oil sizzled in a pan, crackling in Will's ear. Hannibal had taken to describing what he was doing as he was doing it. The concentration with which he cooked lowered his voice to a rumble, tickling a particular nerve in Will's brain and as he stared up at the ceiling, it went fuzzy around the edges. Hannibal mumbled, "Once the lamb and pork have both suitably browned..."
Again, Will was so close. In his mind, and possibly in reality, Hannibal was lying. It didn't matter if it was true, he told himself. The idea, the concept, of what he believed to be true would be enough. It didn't matter. Yet Will found himself unmuting and asked breathlessly, "Lamb and pork?"
The entire phone call was already completely abnormal for the two of them, Will never strayed for longer than necessary. Even more shocking still were his strange attempts at casual conversation. That, in addition to the fact that he lied about his dogs (he'd been off mute for long enough at multiple points to prove that much), left Hannibal wondering. If he had asked about anything work related, perhaps something about Jack or Alana, Hannibal could understand, except he hadn't. He'd asked what he was cooking, then asked about the meat.
One possibility did occur to Hannibal, one he didn't want to entertain but given Will's line of questioning, he didn't know what else he could possibly be going to all the trouble for. Of course, it was foolish of him. Did he think he could outsmart Hannibal? Surely not with something so simple. Or maybe that's exactly why he thought he could. Not that any of it mattered, Hannibal hadn't been lying.
"Yes, what about it?" he answered with a hint suspicion. It would be a bore, after all, to not at least play along for a little while.
Will sighed, "Nothing, continue." He seemed disappointed but that might've been by design. Hannibal checked and, lo and behold, Will had muted himself again.
In both the cooking and gossipy sense, Hannibal was nothing if not one to stir the pot and threw Will's own words back at him, "Perhaps I'm curious now, I'd like to know what you were thinking." As he waited for Will to finish most likely cursing his name whilst he couldn't listen in, Hannibal took in a deep sniff of flavoured air.
He could tell when Will had gone off mute. His breaths came heavier than they usually did, irritated. "Just not sure how honest we're being with each other right now," Will muttered, his tone snarky and bothered.
"You did ask me not to lie to you, I haven't yet," Hannibal promised. When he had the first opportunity, he took Will off speaker phone and held the phone between his ear and shoulder. More impractical but better for hearing what Will wasn't saying.
"Fair enough." That answer did not seem to please Will. Maybe he was just bored and looking for an argument, but then why keep going quiet? "You can keep not lying then, what are you doing now?" And again, after he asked, his end went blank.
"Now, I'm frying onion, not particularly interesting really. Actually, while we're on the subject of honesty, I'd like to point something out." Hannibal refused to speak until Will gave him permission and only hoped that his grin didn't translate through his words.
The other end immediately came back to life with an angry, drawn out groan. Admittedly, if Will were with Jack or recording their conversation, he probably wouldn't have done that. "Yeah, go ahead." Will could not have sounded more irate if he tried. A laugh bubbled up in Hannibal's chest but he held it back with all his might. Will hated this but he had a goal in mind and Hannibal, with his honesty and questions and general mischief, kept him from it with absolute glee. He washed and dried his hands at the sink and sat in the leather chair by his pantry while trying to suppress his excitement. It proved to be harder when the person wasn't right in front of him.
"Your dogs haven't been barking this whole time." Hannibal had basically abandoned his food at that point, just until Will gave him some answers. Will didn't speak though, just sighed through his nostrils. He knew he'd been caught out and Hannibal almost shivered with the anticipation of the truth. "Are you really at home, Will?"
"Where else would I be?" Will shot back incredulously. "Yes, I'm at home… And no, the dogs haven't been barking. I'm sorry for lying."
"Thank you." The line went blank again on Will's side and Hannibal continued on explaining what he would do with his food. He did also wonder if Will had noticed he wasn't actually cooking anymore. Either way, he had space to think. Will being at home did not definitely mean he was alone. His behaviour, though, it all felt far too expressive and tinged by annoyance for the call to be work related. "Why did you lie?" he asked just to bother Will and make him unmute again.
Hannibal caught the end of a long breath of air and Will said, "Does it matter?"
"If you don't want me to hang up, yes." Leaning back in his seat, Hannibal crossed one leg over the other and waited.
The threat gave Will something to consider. Which he did. Until eventually, he admitted, "I didn't want to give you the real reason."
"Obviously," Hannibal interjected.
"Right. I didn't want to give you the real reason because," Will paused and quietly, Hannibal heard fabrics brushing together, "it's embarrassing." Then he most definitely heard Will's bed creaking and though he couldn't see it, knew from the complete silence that Will's face cringed at the noise.
How fascinating, he thought. "Are you in bed, Will?"
A sigh came from Will that sounded an awful lot like defeat. "Yes. Yes, I am." He spoke through his teeth, the grinding of his clenched jaw evident through his tone.
Hannibal simply replied with, "I see," and licked his lips.
"Hell, I hope not. Knowing you, though…" Surprisingly, they both laughed at that. Loud and cheerful, as if they were reminiscing. Which they were, in a way. Will joking about it was exhilarating all the same.
"Why not?" He almost wanted to ask if Will could tell he was very obviously flirting but refrained. Will wouldn't take well to that kind of question and Hannibal did prefer subtly in these cases. For a man who prided himself on remaining calm, he felt strangely elated. His heart beat faster than if he were killing somebody, he'd stopped cooking so that he could focus all his attention on Will. In realising that, his face heated up, not from shame but something akin to it.
"Huh?" Will scratched his cheek. "Oh, uh," he stuttered on like that for an age, started a few sentences and never finished them, shuffled around a bit and cleared his throat. Hannibal smiled less from causing mischief than from being entirely enamoured by Will Graham being shy.
He interrupted, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mute yourself again, I like knowing you're actually listening." He wanted to hear Will moving around, small interjections to keep the conversation flowing. Hannibal would keep him on the phone for as long as he could too, late enough into the night for Will to grow sleepy and relaxed, if he could. The thought of Will falling asleep on the phone popped into his head and Hannibal forgot to breath for a second.
"I am, I promise."
From that point on, Hannibal seemed especially conniving and— Will was certain he was making this up— lustful. He couldn't have known what Will was doing but still he was adamant that Will not mute himself again. So, with his teeth digging into his bottom lip hard enough to sting, Will clasped one hand around his needy cock. He started slow but his nerves made his palms more sweaty and the precum on his tip made it near impossible to touch himself without making a tiny squelch. Still, he tried.
"I have fallen slightly behind schedule, dinner is going to take longer than I had originally planned. I hope that doesn't bother you." Hannibal stood up, his feet tapping against the floor metronomically. It fit well with his usual lack of expression and Will could see his plain face and robotic movements as he went about his kitchen in perfect clarity. Hannibal, fully dressed but with his shirt sleeves rolled up to expose his thick forearms, that pristine apron tied around his waist that made him look weirdly attractive, cooking an overly fancy meal and telling Will all about it.
"Yeah, no, that's fine. Just keep talking me through it," Will whispered back, too distracted by the thought of the apron tied around Hannibal's waist and how he must look from behind to really think about what he'd said. In his defence, he'd seen the arch of his back a few times and Will didn't consider it fair to expect him not to think about it.
"Pardon?" Hannibal sounded downright scandalised. Or he did for his standards anyway.
Will's erection strained and ached. Knowing Hannibal had caught on, his reaction, excited Will. The thrill of being found out had a kick to it. So he decided to throw caution to the wind and really get into his self soothing with a lot less secrecy that time. The speaker surely picked up his panting but Hannibal said nothing about it. Each slide of his hand grew a little louder than the last. "Keep talking," he rasped, "please."
Hannibal swapped his phone from one ear to the other. "Oh," he cleared his throat and said, "Well, this is unexpected."
Will chuckled as he replied, "Isn't it?" and gently lowered his palm over the head of his cock again, curling his fingers to stroke at the underside while swiping his hand around in circles. His whole body tensed and his back arched. The phone fell from his ear onto the pillow next to him so he had to shakily reach for it to put himself on speaker.
Suddenly, wet skin smacking against skin, Will's feet sliding against his bed all sounded much clearer to Hannibal. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
"What do you think?" The slit of Will's cock dribbled messily onto his hand, the constant rubbing an overwhelming assault on his senses that left him huffing and digging his hips into the mattress to escape his own touch. His hips twitched and bucked and Will was overcome with the need to fuck.
"You could've called anybody. Alana, for example," Hannibal suggested, to which Will scoffed as if the idea were outlandish. "You called me with the intention of never actually letting me know what you were doing, I suppose. Did it make you feel alive, Will? When you heard my voice, unaware of what you were doing, did it make your heart race? Saliva must've pooled in your mouth, your gut might've gone a little queasy, and still you sat alone in bed and masturbated while I had no idea. Rather pitiful, really. I do sympathise though. It must be hard, after everything that's happened to you, when you feel that stirring in your loins, that thrum between your legs, who can you turn to? What woman, or man, would be willing to sleep with someone like you? I imagine there are a few individuals out there who would jump at the opportunity.
"But let's get to the heart of the issue, shall we? This didn't start with your being put into the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. You sleep on an old, rickety bed in your living room with seven dogs, no one expecting to bring someone home would live that way. When was the last time you had sex, Will? Or the last time you had anything more than a below average orgasm that ended with wiping up your own semen with that day's underwear?
"Part of me wonders if that's why you kissed Alana. Perhaps you hoped she might see you, sad and desperate, and get under your sheets, have quick, mediocre sex once or twice just so you could feel a little less pathetic. Then again, considering the distress you were under, the mental strain, I have wondered whether or not you were able to perform at all."
Obviously, the words stung, partially because they rang true and partially because of the coldness with which they were said. Still, every bit of it fed the fire burning deep in Will. It was exactly what he needed and Hannibal knew it. Blood reddened his face in humiliation. "Fuck, fuck. You're right, I couldn't. I wanted to but I couldn't. Then the doctors put me on a bunch of meds so I still couldn't."
"I thought as much. You must've been relieved when everything started working again as it should. I'm sure the sudden rise in your libido has hit at some rather unfortunate times."
Like sitting across the dining table from the man he supposedly hated. Like late night appointments and long car rides. Time and time again, Will had contemplated giving himself over. His self control was all he had to fortify himself against Hannibal Lecter but he'd just lost it all in one night. What was worse was that he hardly even cared. The heat in his gut began to unravel. "Dr. Lecter, Hannibal. I'm gonna, please, I—"
Hannibal hummed judgmentally. "Don't let me stop you, Will." Colours bloomed in Will's eyes, his ceiling flowering yellow, blue, green, purple. Unfortunately similar to an old corpse. "I do hope this will provide you with some relief. Perhaps next time we see each other you won't stink so much of hormones and lust Though it's not a bad scent, I can always smell it on you like a bitch in heat."
A guttural moan forced its way out of Will's mouth, the vibration tingling in his throat. His pulse throbbed like his arteries might burst. Needless to say, the 'below average' orgasms he'd had in the past didn't compare to the all encompassing pleasure crashing over him in waves. Hannibal's voice whispered in his ear and ran down his spine. His muscles burned. His climax can't have lasted that long but Will thought if it kept going anymore his heart might give out.
Will came to as from his phone, an oven opened and closed again. Warmth radiated through his body as he tried to sit up and found his limbs too heavy and sluggish to move. In complete contrast to how he'd been before, Hannibal spoke soft, quiet. "Satisfied?"
The saliva in his mouth had dried up and Will had to lick his lips a few times before he could speak again. Even after, his voice was gruff. "Yes, thank you."
"Fantastic. So, I'll see you tomorrow then?"
After everything, Will had forgotten about dinner. Anticipation bubbled in his chest as it always did when he had plans to see Hannibal. "Mhm, yeah. Goodnight, Dr. Lecter."
"Goodnight, Will."
They hung up and Will made the long and exhausting trek to his bathroom to clean himself up. He very nearly fell asleep in the shower but kept himself awake by reminding himself over and over again what he'd just done. He couldn't take it back and didn't want to anyway. Besides, he could definitely spin this to his advantage.
As he got back into bed, Will decided with certainty that revenge was still on the table.