Hannigram Oneshots

Those hands pulled me from the earth

Will's knuckles were bloody, he flexed them looking Hannibal in the eyes. 

"Did you think of me when you killed Randall, Will?" Hannibal asked, head tilting.

"Yes," he mumbled through cracked lips.

"How did it make you feel? Was it pleasant?" He asked, pushing Will.

"It made me feel powerful. It was... I enjoyed it, more than I should have if I'm being honest." Will turned his head away from Hannibal's. Embarrassment evident in the shade brushed onto his cheeks.

"You'd like to kill me, wouldn't you? You get off on the thought that I would let you?" he questioned.

"I don't know how I feel about you, Hannibal. This is all such new and strange territory. I don't know what I'm doing." He trailed off, walking over to Hannibal's sink to rinse his bloody knuckles clean. He used it as an excuse to avoid being near and having to talk to Hannibal. He walked over to the sink as well, not letting him have that satisfaction. He gripped Will's wrist.

"Let me help. Let me take care of you, Will."

"You act this way even though I just admitted that I actively fantasize about killing you. Do you have no self-preservation Doctor Lecter?" The formality and contrary spite in Will's voice rolled off his tongue like candy. Hannibal outwardly shuddered with a kind of pleasure.

"I trust you to have control of your own self Will and know that you must also have some sort of self-preservation and knowledge of consequences. I am much larger and stronger than you and have field practice," he said licking his lips.

"Is that so?" He asked, as if he didn't already know the answer that loomed over him.

"I do know how to defend myself as well."

"Are you threatening me, Hannibal?" Will quirked an eyebrow and a devilish smile tugged at his broken lips.

"Are you threatening me, Will?" he parroted.

"Yes," he responded blankly. Hannibal smiled and turned the sink on. He moved Will's hand under the water. His grip on Will's wrist not moving. The blood seeped into the water. Hannibal actively had to suppress his want to drink it. "I want to hurt you, Hannibal. I would garner pleasure from it." He said, with a sadistic tongue.

"I'm sure you would my dear boy." Will's body trembled under Hannibal's touch at that. His macho facade slipping. He twitched when Hannibal ran his fingers over Will's knuckles. He gently scrubbed the blood away and pulled Will's hand back from the sink. He let go of Will for only a moment and washed his own hands. He turned the faucet off and grabbed Will again. He directed him over to a table and sat him down.

"I'll be back with supplies to bandage your wound in a moment. Don't leave this seat please, no trying to run away either. I can catch you Will and you know I love the chase. Be a good boy for me." Will's eyes lit up with a mixture of extreme confusion and a twinge of arousal. Hannibal only knew that's what it was because he could smell it drifting off Will's body. The bloomings of a basic primal want, a need for praise. That was Will's weak spot and Hannibal liked to prod at bruises.

"I...what is...why..." Will stumbled through his words like a child as Hannibal walked away. He went into his bathroom and fetched the needed supplies to patch Will up. When he came back Will was seated exactly how he'd left him.

"I knew you could listen. Thank you. I'm proud of you Will." Will's whole body twitched and his eyes darkened, he whined like a dog. Interesting. Hannibal cataloged away that praise for special occasions. He got out the wrappings and reached a hand out in the air, waiting.