Hannigram -Short stories -

Black wings

#Hannigram #WillGraham #Hannibal #shortstory

🔥 Black Wings 🔥

Black Wings. Black words, whispered throughout all this time without even knowing they were. Words slowly making their way into Will Graham's hesitant heart, growing inside him, victorious.

- Someday you will be mine.

Black wings beyond sight, able to soar into the sky to go straight to Hell, for there they belonged. Perfect, shining, eternal like the love they shelter in their feathers.

- I want to show you so many things, my dear.

And the angel whose black wings wrap the profiler in an invisible embrace, burning with desire to be by his side. It was so easy to fall in love with him, so simple. How not to fall in love with his marvellous eyes, with the voracious hunger in his gaze.

- Hannibal...

The moment had come and the Angel, nervous, kneels before the mortal who has stolen his heart. If he had it, he would lay it at his feet, for it would have been his.

- You don't know how much I have longed for this moment, Will.

The young man, bloodied to the elbows, his shirt stained and his face contorted, smiles. He takes Hannibal by the shoulders and lifts him to his side. They were now equals.
And Hannibal, his wings spread wide, does what he had dreamed of so much: he embraces him with them, staining himself with the blood that now unites them.

- Take me with you. I have nothing left here.

Whose life he had taken was something Hannibal didn't care about. The life Will was leaving behind was what he cared about.

- Are you sure? And ....?

Will answers by kissing him, sealing the rest of the questions Hannibal has in his mind that he hasn't said out loud. He'd already thought too much.

- Hush. We're alone, Hannibal.

The bloody shirt on the floor and Hannibal on his knees again, pulling the trousers off a Will who's only caressing him. His amber eyes darken with accumulated pleasure, Will's are bluer than ever.

- May I?

- You'd better. Show me what you're capable of.

Noises of sucking, of a tongue running all over Will's cock, of moans and words that have no meaning fill the room they're in. Will holds Hannibal by the hair, dominant, pushing the angel to be with him. When Will stops moving and squeezes Hannibal right at his base, feeling his breath between his hair, he fills his throat with the liquid that to Hannibal is gold.
He has it.

- Will...look...

Lying on the floor he strokes the profiler's back, feeling a softness in it that grows by the second.

- Now I'm like you.

No, mylimasis, Hannibal thinks. You've always been better.

And those black wings that soar beyond the reach of any gaze are no longer alone. And that angel who for years has been whispering black words to ears that didn't quite know they were listening, has a companion. The world, now, does not seem so bleak.