Look at me

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#Hannigram

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#Hannigram

🔥 Look at me 🔥

- Doctor Lecter, I feel your eyes fixed on my ass. They pierce me.

- Does that bother you?

- It's uncomfortable. If you have something to say, say it by looking directly at me.

Will turns, fixing his gaze on Hannibal. He crosses his arms.

- Didn't you say you didn't like making eye contact, Will?

- I like it even less when I'm being devoured with my eyes as if I'm not even aware of it.

- So what disturbs you isn't that I'm staring at you shamelessly, it's that it turns you on that I am. - ..... - Eyes are the mirror of the soul, and mine are boring their way through the space that separates us, yearning for his company. There is nothing wrong with that. Whether it's reciprocated or not. It's instinct, Will. Desire.

Will sits on the couch across from his shrink. He takes a deep breath. One second, two seconds, three seconds. He smiles, nervous.

- What if it were? Reciprocated.

- Would it scare you?

- It would make me curious. To see where it would all lead.

- How would it satisfy that curiosity?

Will walks towards him. The distance between the two chairs has never seemed so great. He stops in front of Hannibal, who raises his head and looks at him. Will's right hand approaches Hannibal's face, but stops halfway. He hesitates.

- These are assumptions, Will. Continue.

Hannibal watches every movement, every breath, every heartbeat. Will rests his hand on the psychiatrist's face. One breath, two, three. Eyes closing, and a seated man rising up, cupping his face.

- Open your eyes. Look at me.

Hannibal smiles as only he knows how, amused. Will's eyes, blue, focus on his as he struggles with his next steps.

- Hannibal....

A name that is almost a whisper. A word that encapsulates everything. Will is aware of the present and even allows himself, for a second, to wonder about the future.

- I've wanted to do this as much as you have, Will. There's nothing wrong with that - he takes the profiler's hand and rests it on his trousers.

- Fucking hell, Hannibal... - Will is feeling overwhelmed by the situation.

- I want you," he whispers in his ear, calling out to him, "Do you know how rude it would be to leave me... like this?

Will swallows and nods. It would be as rude as him walking out the door in that same condition, his pēne screaming for him to listen to her.

- Good. Very good.

Without looking away from those quivering blue eyes, Hannibal unbuttons Will's shirt, who is paralysed.

- From your reaction, I'm assuming you never... - Will shakes his head. I'll be... I can't promise I'll be careful.

Will doesn't even listen to him. He wants Hannibal to undress him and he wants to undress Hannibal, but for reasons beyond his control, he can't do it.
With his shirt on the floor, he notices the psychiatrist's warm lips on his skin, his right shoulder, his neck, his own lips. And it is in that kiss that Will seems to awaken, pulling the man closer to his body and allowing his mouth to be explored by Hannibal's tongue.
Tastes like wine, tastes like mint, tastes like Will needs to feel that tongue on another part of his body.

- Hannibal...

- Tell me, dear Will, what do you need?

Will looks down at his bulging trousers. He can't bring himself to say it out loud, it embarrasses him.

- Words, Will. Communication is the lifeblood of humanity.

- Take it from me... I need... your mouth, Hannibal. Your tongue.

- Your tongue. Good. I'm your slave, I'll do anything you want.

He pulls down Will's trousers and underwear. As he does so he licks himself, kneeling on the floor and kissing the young man's tip.

- Shit...- Will is too excited.

- Sit there - he points to the armchair where Will always sits in his sessions.

When Will does so, Hannibal has a perfect view of the young man, his body, his member. He is pleasantly surprised when it is Will himself who guides his head down, asking, demanding.

- Doctor, isn't it rude to leave someone like that? - he smiles. Am I to remember you as rude, Hannibal?

- As I said, I am your slave. To obey you is to obey pleasure itself.

Hannibal ducks his head and smiles. Many things can be said of him, but rude is not one of them.

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