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- Will?
Hannibal calls out to the young man while his hand holds his chin. Will, that's his patient's name, is suffering from encephalitis and doesn't know it. Hannibal does not consider it necessary for this unimportant fact to disrupt the life of the man he hopes will become his partner.
Will sometimes suffers from seizures. In them, he dissociates, travels to a place where Hannibal cannot follow him, though sometimes he glimpses that where Will is, in his mind, is with him. If he were in danger, he would wake him. If it were mortal, he would advise him to treat it. But for now, it is not. For now.
- Do you hear me, Will?
He pats him lightly on the cheek. Will isn't looking at him, his gaze fixed on his suit, his eyes open without physically being there.
Hannibal smiles. It's not the first time it's happened, nor will it be the last. The times he has taken advantage of Will's absences to... let's say, explore him intimately, he stopped counting them some time ago. She is not ashamed, she feels no remorse. That's the way things are because that's the way he's chosen them to be.
- Good - he says aloud, more to himself than to Will.
He goes to the door of his office and locks it. Not that he expects anyone after the profiler's appointment, but better safe than sorry. Will remains in the same position. Hannibal walks over and stands in front of him again. He gently guides Will to the seat that bears his name. He then kneels in front of him and with deft hands, undoes his belt, undoes the button of his trousers, undoes his fly and slides it down to his ankles. He does the same with his underwear.
Hannibal is fascinated by Will, and extremely curious. He could be honest with him, talk to him, share his opinions and take no for an answer. He could, of course, but where would be the fun in that? His method is more interesting, more... personal. He bends Will so that his back rests on the couch, spreads his legs and does what he's been doing for weeks without any shame.
The human body is a marvel of nature, and Hannibal knows it well. Everything is connected. Conscience doesn't matter, will even less. He takes Will's cock in his hand and begins to masturbate him. His base motives, the desire he feels for him. The deep motives, that same desire mixed with a hopeless sense of loneliness and the allure of dominating a person both physically and mentally. There are few things that excite him as much as this.
- You're doing great, Will," he says, despite not being heard.
Will has never commented on any of this in subsequent sessions. He doesn't remember it. He considers himself absent and trusts Hannibal - his psychiatrist - when he explains that he is simply waiting for him to return. It's never more than half an hour, it's even believable.
- Your encephalitis is a strong point in our relationship," he continues, his hand pumping the young man's penis. Look how good she is, leaving you at my mercy.
