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#Hannigram #Hannibal #WillGraham
"To touch you is to touch a piece of heaven, to live between your legs is to live in hell."
🔥 It's not just desire 🔥
In Will's youth and in the fire that burns beneath his skin Hannibal is consumed as many times as it takes to calm it. To extinguish it is unthinkable, to master it is unthinkable. The only option is to join him. And Hannibal, addicted to Will's body as he is, needs nothing more than the profiler's blue gaze to fly as high as he does.
- Kiss me.
How not to. The time between them had stopped hurting, the distance between them had disappeared. Hannibal vividly remembers the day Will chose him. There isn't a moment he doesn't smile when he does it, the wait has been longer than he expected. Gone were the years of confinement, in oblivion that poor substitute Will sought to avoid - in vain - thinking about him.
- More. Give it all to me.
And Hannibal, obedient, gives him all of himself. Hands, tongue and aching cock. Nothing matters to satiate young Graham. Nothing had prepared him for the thrill that hit him as Will writhed beneath him, all moans and words building up in his ego. Don't stop, faster, fuck, I love it. I love you, Hannibal.
- I want you.
- No more than I want you.
Because the day Will showed how he felt, Hannibal's world became a little less chaotic than it was. It was now tinged with a colour he couldn't yet specify, and his days were filled with Will's scent, which permeated everything. Will in his bed, stretching like a cat when he woke up. Will in his kitchen and him making sure he didn't touch anything that could stick a foot in his foot. Will in his shower and him unable to contain himself and stepping in, turning the shower into something more enjoyable than it really was.
- Shit, Hannibal. Loud.
And Hannibal, who at times wished he was a few years younger, forgot all about it as Will grabbed whatever was within his reach, enjoying sex like he'd never done before. For if Hannibal discovered in Will's pallor that age was just a number, Will marvelled at every nook and cranny of the psychiatrist's body coming back to him again and again, claiming, begging, craving every tiny detail. He adored him.
- I'll get there...
It doesn't matter either. Two minutes later Will will ask to be fucked in another way, in another position, with another part of his body. Stopping is an option Hannibal doesn't consider. He'd been waiting so long that anything he could get his hands on to please Will, he'd use. His nights belonged to him, his days were filled with his thoughts.
- You are unbelievable.
- Only because I dreamed too much of this, darling.
- I'd be fucking you all day.
Hannibal smiles because he knows it's true. At almost fifty years old, he was tied to the desire that Will aroused in him, and that he knew for a fact Will felt for him too. Because in this back and forth of intertwined bodies Will succumbed as often as necessary and Hannibal photographed every tiny detail: a small part of him hoped that Will would leave, regretting the choice.
- You'll finish me, mylimasis.
- No - Will sticks out his tongue and licks himself - you will finish me. This isn't just desire, Hannibal. This is...
Hannibal smiles, he knows it too.
- It's many things. Defining it makes it small, less than it really is. Lie down. I need to feel you.
In Hannibal's movement and Will's grip on his hip encouraging him to move even faster, that which they don't define because it would make him small envelops them both. And Hannibal, who knows it's not just desire, forgets that he once felt the weight of loneliness on his shoulders. That he missed Will so much it hurt and that the only thing that kept him sane in those walls were his memories.
