Hannigram -Short stories -

Drugging Will

#Hannigram

Drugging Will

[A Day in the Life of Dr. Hannibal Lecter]

Hannibal was constantly inviting Will to dinner at his house. His intentions were clear to everyone, except, of course, to Will himself. The profiler would arrive, praise his food, eat it, enjoy a glass of whiskey by the fireplace, and go home.

It was like a ritual.
And Hannibal hated it.

At first it was exhilarating. The first time Will agreed, Hannibal smiled, thinking he knew what would happen. Wrong. That's ten times now and absolutely nothing has happened.

- This is delicious," Will praises him, another day. The best dish I've ever tasted.

- You say that about all my dishes, Will.

- You just outdo yourself. Really. What is it?

Hannibal smiles, his smile is always special.

- Pig. A huge pig who thought he was master of the herd.

- Poor him, thinking he's king," Will adds.

- Don't you drink wine? If it's not to your liking...

Hannibal waits, knowing that even if it isn't, Will will drink it anyway. Will's cup is not like his, the profiler's has a special substance that makes you tell the truth. Fed up, fed up, Hannibal had decided to drink Will.

- Sure! Look... - Will drinks - I love it.

Three mouthfuls later and making calculations in his mind, Hannibal asks.

- Will, why do you think I've asked you to dinner so many times?

Will opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, and what he says surprises him.

- I think you want to fuck me, Hannibal.

Hannibal's lips burst into laughter, this is going to get interesting.

- I don't know why I said that," Will puts his hand to his forehead. I must be sick, I'm sorry," he pauses, Hannibal waits. Actually I think about it, I take back my apology.

- You're right, apologising when it's not sincere is considered rude. So you think.

Will nods several times. He continues to drink.

- So, dear Will, tell me. Knowing that, why do you accept?

- Because I want the same thing.

Will stands up, nervous about what he just said so easily.

- Will, sit down. No," he says as he crouches down in his seat, "sit here.

He points to his knees. Will sits still for a few seconds, debating what his motive is for going to sit on Hannibal's lap like a little boy. The answer, he knows.

- Do you want me to suck your cock? I don't even know how to do it - he laughs, he laughs a lot imagining it - Fuck, I'm sorry, did you get me drunk or something?

- Come here, Will - he holds out his hand -. Let me check if you've got a fever.

And Will sits on him, on his side, while Hannibal feels his forehead and Will closes his eyes.

- Drunk is not the word. More like I helped you, a push. I was... tired of waiting for you, Will.

He places his hand behind the young man's neck, and pulls him closer.

- Too tired.

He kisses him, squeezing his body. It's about time. Will enjoys the kiss, not sure what to do.

- I want dessert - he says.

- Metaphorically or literally? - Hannibal hopes it's the former.

- Metaphorically. Dessert, this - he cups his hand around Hannibal's crotch. This dessert.

- Yours is - he's already half hard -. Do you want to eat it here or... somewhere else?

- Here. On this table. Indulge me, Hannibal.

- Always, dear Will.

He stands up, carrying the young man who wraps his legs around his waist, and places him on the table while he pushes plates and cutlery aside with his arm, making room.

- Chocolate.

- I beg your pardon?

- I want to eat my dessert with chocolate," Will explains. Liquid, with milk. Fuck, I feel amazing, Hannibal. I should be angry, but I really can't be.

- Wait here. I'll get it. Don't move.

- And miss dessert? No, sir.

And as Hannibal makes his way to the kitchen, already in pain, he congratulates himself. If it hadn't been for the drug, the pattern would have repeated itself.

No glass of whisky today.
There will be no farewell.

Today Will will have his chocolate dessert, and Hannibal his long-awaited victory.