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Inconvenient Compassion

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Darkness surrounded the house. No place existed but here. Nothing existed but the roiling Atlantic beneath the bluff, Hannibal, Will, the music and the wine, and the Great Red Dragon.

"Do you intend to watch him kill me?"

"I intend to watch him change you."

With silent care, Hannibal polished the glasses he held. "My compassion for you is inconvenient, Will."

"If you are partial to beef products, it is inconvenient to be compassionate toward a cow."

Hannibal breathed a short laugh. This was their dance. Their feet would flutter in circles, carrying their bodies elegantly through the patterns of simultaneous love and loathing. Will, with his curiosity and admiration overwhelming his morals. Hannibal, with his compassion overwhelming his own. Back and forth, around and around they twirled, both fully aware that this was a dance, and yet neither being the one to step out of it.

Hannibal uncorked the bottle of red wine he held, and held the cork to his nose for a moment. Rich and bitter.

"Save yourself, kill them all," he offered as he filled Will's glass. Will's eyes were distant.

"I don't know if I can save myself." He looked up at Hannibal. "Maybe that's just fine."

Hannibal held his gaze, until he walked back toward the window and filled his own glass. "No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a friend."

"Friends, are we, Hannibal?"

"We have passion for each other, that is undeniable."

"On the spectrum of emotion, passion can fall just about anywhere. Passion with love, passion with hate, passion with indifference."

"Where does your passion for me lie on the spectrum, Will?" Hannibal put the bottle down and swirled the dark wine around his glass. Will took a small sip of his own.

"It is less of a needle pointing to a single emotion, and more of a light that intends to highlight one section, yet bleeds into all the rest."

"You do not know how to feel about me. I intrigue you, and you feel as though we are two unique individuals that find similarity only with each other."

"I am not a murderer."

"And yet you have murdered. You are alone, Will. An outcast. You have people in your life, but they do not fill the void wholly. Only I do. And you hate this, but at the same time you cannot resist the chance to fill said void. It is overwhelming."

"Is this a therapy session, Dr. Lecter?"

"No. This is a conversation." He sipped from his glass.

"Do you know why I am so intrigued by you, Hannibal? It is not only that you represent the dark side of the edge I have been walking along for so long. You have a mind and body that I did not know a single person could possess. You are the most eloquent and well-spoken man I have ever met. And yet this does not outweigh your accomplishments in the physical realm. What you have done with your body - your hunting and slaying, your cooking - is more than what most men will ever use their bodies and time for. Because there is eloquence and purpose to it."

"You are fascinated with my body."

Will looked down into his wine. Not at all in shame. It was in contemplation. "As you are with mine. Though in very different ways, I would imagine."

"I would not be so sure, Will." Hannibal's glass was on the table beside the bottle of wine. "I do not regard you only as food. I see your body and what you use it for as eloquent and purposeful, as well."

"And what do I use my body for, Hannibal?"

"A great many things. And still, it has potential that you have yet to fill."

It occurred then to Will how close Hannibal was to him. Mere feet away. "How mysterious of you."

"And yet you know exactly what I mean, whether you realize that you accept it or not."

"Bold of you, to assume I accept it."

"Bold? No. It is the truth."

Will's held his glass close to his heart, but as Hannibal closed the gap between them, his arm slowly swung out to the side so that there was nothing but an inch of air between them as Hannibal pressed his lips into Will's. Will instinctively turned his head so that their lips matched more perfectly, and soon he felt Hannibal's hand on his as his glass was carefully taken from him. The kiss had not been quite expected, and yet it did not surprise him in the least, nor did his lack of hesitation in reciprocating the action. Hannibal's hand found its way to Will's cheek, and he breathed hotly into Will's lips so that they parted, and his tongue snaked into Will's mouth. Will made a sound as if to speak, but Hannibal pressed their mouths harder together and silenced him, his other hand slowly moving up Will's back. Hannibal broke the kiss and bent his head to Will's neck, tasting the smooth, light flesh. His mouth traveled up to Will's jaw, his lips grazing the coarse stubble there, until his teeth teased Will's earlobe and his breath was thick and hot in his ear. A shudder travelled through Will's entire body, heat pooling at his groin. Hannibal sniffed deeply, breathing in the smell of Will's arousal. He pulled back ever so slightly, so that their cheeks were still touching but his mouth was no longer on Will's ear. They both panted for a moment in the uncertain air, until Hannibal suddenly drove his palms into Will's shoulders, sending him stumbling backwards as a gasp escaped his lips, and Will felt himself falling until the back of his knees collided with something behind him, and he fell heavily onto his back.

"Hannibal-" Will gasped out the name, whose bearer was soon looming over him, and only a moment later Hannibal was undoing the buttons on the front of Will's shirt. "Hannibal-" This time Will was silenced by Hannibal's hand that shot out and was suddenly tight around his neck. Will's hands jumped up and began to pull at the strong fingers in vain, and he looked up into Hannibal's dark, dangerous eyes and his body shivered with fear, and yet he knew Hannibal would not hurt him. And he was proven correct a moment later, when Hannibal's grip lessened, and his fingers instead tilted Will's head far back so that Hannibal's mouth and tongue and teeth could graze the exposed pale of his neck as his other hand pulled the tucked hem of the shirt out of Will's pants. Will shuddered as Hannibal's teeth closed over his abdomen, lightly biting at the skin, moving ever lower. Hannibal's fingers were then tugging at the zipper of Will's pants, and Will's own tried half-heartedly to stop them, but then Hannibal sucked at Will's flesh so hard he could feel the bruise forming even before Hannibal let him go, and the feeling it sent throughout his entire body only left him craving for more. And so Hannibal tugged Will's pants and shoes and boxers off of him, and Will's self-concioucness as his nakedness was fleeting, for when Hannibal's skilled mouth wrapped itself around his desperate erection, all logical thought fled his mind, chased out by overwhelming pleasure. Through heavily lidded eyes he watched Hannibal's hair shift with the movements of his head, as Hannibal dipped and bobbed and licked and breathed and sucked and swirled and kissed and cupped. It was ecstasy. It sent wave after wave of hot pleasure through Will's body, each one more erratic than the last, and soon Will's hands were fisted in Hannibal's hair, and his legs were twitching, and he was gasping incoherent praise as he orgasmed deep into Hannibal's throat.

Will's body surrendered to limp exhaustion, his eyes fluttering closed, as Hannibal pulled himself off of him. He heard Hannibal moving close by, but his eyes would not open. He was no virgin, and yet never before had he felt something quite like that.

"I knew I would have you in my mouth on day, Will. One way or another."

Will exhaled and managed a small grin that lasted but a moment. When his eyes slowly opened again, Hannibal, too, was completely unclothed.

"Was this the way you were hoping I would be in your mouth, Hannibal?"

"My dear Will. If I had wanted to eat you, you would be eaten."

"And yet you tried. You nearly sawed my skull open." Will pulled himself up into a sitting position, leaning against the back of the large chaise.

"I am but a man." Hannibal moved forward and knelt on the side, facing Will. "And men are imperfect. All living things are imperfect. Thank God for our imperfections, for if I had succeeded, you would likely be dead, and I would be unable to be doing this with you right now."

Will slowly tilted his head, and his eyes carefully examined Hannibal's body. He was strong, and healthy, and well-built. His sex organ was difficult for Will to even describe to himself, in his head, for never before had he been beneath a naked man like this before. His eyes lingered there for a moment, and Hannibal noticed.

"You have been inside of me, Will. Now I will be inside of you."

Will's eyes returned to Hannibal's, and suddenly he was looking the man that had been throwing himself at the pantry Jack Crawford had locked himself in years ago, covered in blood that was not all his own, an animalistic savagery in his eyes. Will's heartbeat sped up, and it was as though Hannibal could hear it. He moved up Will's body, placing a hand on either side of Will's face, and soon he was straddling Will, kneeling over him. Hannibal dug his fingers into Will's cheeks until his jaw was forced open, then he pushed his cock into Will's mouth. Will sputtered and choked, but Hannibal did not draw himself out. Will's hands were on Hannibal's hips, keeping pressure on them to give himself an ounce of control. If Hannibal had wanted, he could have taken away this control in a moment. Yet he let Will keep it.

"I suggest you use as much saliva as possible," Hannibal advised. "I do not believe either of us brought lubricant." Hannibal's hands were not gripping Will's hair painfully tightly, using it to get himself deeper and deeper into Will's throat. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, enjoying the erotic gagging of the man he was face-fucking. Will's mouth was wet and hot and tight and slippery. Hannibal's breathing became louder, but he did not want to finish this way. He suddenly, quickly, pulled himself out of Will's mouth, leaving the man gasping and heaving and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He hardly gave him a moment's rest, however, for then he grabbed Will and flipped him over and Will found himself on his hands and knees. He closed his eyes and hung his head, anticipating the pain. He heard Hannibal sucking on his own fingers for a moment, then he felt them at his anal entrance. Slowly, but with great anticipation, Hannibal pressed a finger into Will and began moving it back and forth, drawing uncertain moans out of the man beneath him. "Relax, Will. It will make this much more enjoyable." Another appendage pushed into him, and he squeezed his eyes tighter shut. As Hannibal fingered him, however, he soon felt himself yearning for more. Hannibal added a third finger and began to fuck him with them, forcing them as far as they would go again and again, and when Will gasped in pleasure instead of pain, Hannibal knew he needn't wait a moment more. He withdrew his fingers, and replaced them with his tongue for a moment as he savagely ate Will out from behind, wetting the area and drawing further moans from Will.

"Hannibal-" It seemed that was all Will could make out. Yet Hannibal needed no more. He got up into a kneeling position again, and Will let out an audible groan as the head of Hannibal's cock pressed against his ass, and with a strangled cry, Hannibal slipped inside of Will. He slowly pushed further and further inside until he was buried to the hilt. He paused, to give Will a moment to adjust, but he could feel his own patience wearing thin. Long had he wanted to pound into Will until the man was as submissive as could be. Long had he wanted to force every imaginable noise of pleasure and pain out of Will. And now it was moments away. Moments away.

Will was hot and tight and perfect and wet, in a way exponentially more pleasing than even his mouth had been. If Hannibal had had less control, he may have cum right then and there at the very idea of being inside of Will. This thought drove him to action. He gripped Will's hips hard, and without easing him into it, Hannibal pulled almost fully out and then thrust back into Will. Will screamed. Hannibal did it again, and again, fucking Will with everything that he had, his skin and hips and balls slapping Will's ass as he slammed into him over and over and over. Will's entire body rocked with each thrust, one of his hands up against the back of the couch for support. Hannibal quickened his pace, and he leaned forward and looped an arm around Will and grabbed his neck, forcing his head back, and as he fucked him he bit down on his neck, riding him and sucking him and squeezing him and tasting him, and at this new angle he hit Will's prostate, the bundle of so sensitive nerves within him, and Will's breath caught in his throat in the sexiest, most helpless moan imaginable. And Hannibal lost control of himself completely.

Will was no more a man, but the accumulation of all of Hannibal's pleasures. And yet it had to be Will. It had to be Will beneath him, around his cock, neck in his grip, gasping in unbelievable pain and pleasure. This was the epitome of Hannibal's every fantasy, Will's ass his own, and as he bit down harder on his shoulder he tasted blood. His hand clenched tighter around Will's neck as he continued to hump relentlessly into him, and he knew that Will could no longer draw breath when the hand that had been pressed into the back of the sofa leapt to pull at Hannibal's fingers. Now. Now. Hannibal pulled out of Will completely then pounded himself back into Will once, twice, these ones slower and so, so much harder. As Hannibal collided with Will's prostate on the second thrust, Will orgasmed, choking on his lack of air, silently screaming as every muscle in his body seized. His ass tightened around Hannibal's cock so much so that Hannibal threw his head back in pain, releasing Will' neck as he did so, and at the sound of Will gasping horsely for air and sanity, Hannibal orgasmed, shaking and gasping and gripping Will's hips so tightly that his nails likely drew yet more blood. He pushed into Will a few more times as he rode out his orgasm, until his breathing returned from uneven gasps to something resembling normalcy. He came out of Will and they both fell onto the cushion, panting, Will on his stomach and Hannibal on his back, side by side. Their faces were turned toward each other.

"See, Will?" Hannibal breathed. "This is all I ever wanted for you."

"It's beautiful," Will exhaled back.

...

"Almost all I ever wanted for you."