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#Hannigram #Hannibal #WillGraham #shortstory
🔥 Pain and pleasure 🔥
Maybe it's that in pain we find part of an unknown warmth and, with it, we discover the meaning of what it means to love and to be loved. Perhaps they go hand in hand and we have not yet realised it.
Physical pain was a regular feature of their lives. Alongside it, on rare occasions, there was another kind of pain, the kind that sticks in your soul. They both wanted it that way, it had been mutually agreed. Every night they forgot part of who they were and entered into a role where pleasure exploded with every hard onslaught, with every blow given with conscience.
Blood, one more companion. Tears, from her hand.
- Stronger.
Clinging to Hannibal, Will embraces him because he knows that if he doesn't, the pain will be unbearable. Executioner and liberator at the same time, Hannibal moves on him roughly in search of his orgasm because he knows Will's will come soon.
- Break me, Hannibal.
He loved doing it. He bites down on Will's neck so hard that he tastes a faint iron taste as he's torn the skin. Will is exquisite, to provoke all this in him and to have him seek it out is even more so. He buries himself in him as deep as he can while biting his lower lip, and Will moans into his mouth, drawing his own moan at the same time.
- Get on top.
Without pulling away Will sits on top of him, pushing down. His prostate begging him to stop and him deciding every day that he wants more. If he can die from orgasms, he'll find out sooner or later.
- Fuck my hips and help me make him harder.
Every thrust down is a scream, Hannibal's firm grip and his fingers digging into the young man's skin the only thing that binds him to the world now. He had found love in submission, desire in domination. And, in the combination of both, a fullness such as he had never felt before.
Hannibal reaches up, feeling the tension in his cock and Will's thighs, and grabs the collar of the profiler as he squeezes it. In less than five seconds he cums inside Will and Will stains everything because his orgasms are like that, an uncontrollable whirlwind that Hannibal loves to pick up with his tongue afterwards.
- Will, if you want we can try something else. You don't have to...
- No. This is what I want, this is how I want you.
- Why is that?
- Running away from the pain is the easy thing to do. I love every corner of you, and above all others that finds pleasure in hurting.
- Sometimes I wonder if it's me whispering or you, darling.
- What does it matter? Turn around, now it's my turn to hear you scream.
For in pain and pleasure was their balance. In that fine line that they both understood and enjoyed was the union that neither of them sought but that enveloped them, making them feel at home. And that was no one else's business.
