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#Hannigram #shortstory
🔥 A different kind of therapy 🔥.
When Hannibal proposed that the next session could not be held in his office, and that it had to be at his home, Will was surprised.
- We can leave it for another day, if it's not going well.
- His mental health is the most important thing. Delaying it won't do you any good, Will.
The look the young profiler gave him was one of disbelief, and Hannibal knew he had to make more of an impact. Convince him.
- If you prefer, I can refer you to another psychiatrist. If you're not happy with me...
He knew how difficult it was for Will to open up to others, and he knew what Will's response would be.
- And start from scratch? Better not, Dr. Lecter.
Hannibal smiled, pleased at the control he had over him. He loved this young man. He knew that, given a chance, Will might well become a partner who wouldn't look back when he knew the truth.
- You know where I live - Will had been to his house for dinner with the rest of the FBI a couple of times -. I'll expect you the day after tomorrow at the same time.
It's 19.30 and Hannibal is lying in bed. Gone are his beautiful, expensive three-piece suits. His hair so neatly in place. With the certainty of someone who knows what's going to happen, a white shirt is pulled tight around his body, a little short at the bottom, exposing part of his belly. In his fifties and on a balanced diet of human flesh - plus swimming - Hannibal hopes to provoke a young man twenty years his junior. He will measure up.
It's 7.35pm and he's already beginning to despair, the lateness is more than rude. For Will, of course, he lets it go. The doorbell rings a couple of minutes later.
- Come in! - he shouts.
He's left his front door open, wanting Will to find him exactly where he is.
- Dr. Lecter? - he hears him shout.
- Upstairs, Will, second door on the right!
When Will enters, Hannibal is aroused by the smell alone. He's been drinking beer, the cheapest kind, which, mixed with the awful aftershave he always wears, makes Hannibal want to put his nose straight up his neck. He's wearing a light brown turtleneck jumper and skinny jeans. Will's blue eyes widen, a sign that he likes what he's seeing. Hannibal smiles, not moving an inch.
- I'd better go," says the profiler.
- No, you don't.
Unsure whether it's because of the bluntness of the answer, the force of it, or because he really wants to stay, Will stops.
- You're stuck, Will," says Hannibal. And there's only one way I can think of to help you move forward.
- Hannibal...
The sound of his name on Will's lips is the poetry he's been wanting to hear for months. His feelings for him have grown as their sessions have gone on. Will is the most interesting person he knows, as well as attractive, and he decided back then that he was either hers or he wouldn't be anyone else's. Luckily for him, Alana Bloom had turned him down, and no one else had any claims on the young profiler.
Unstable, they call him. A negative adjective that for Hannibal means opportunity.
- Take off your jumper, Will. I want to see you.
Will, with trembling fingers, does so. He knows exactly where he is, he's not having one of his dissociations.
Hannibal's gaze stops on his trousers.
- Now, the trousers - Will does it -. Also the underwear and footwear.
Will stands, facing him, just as Hannibal imagined in his mind. But reality strikes his imagination and wins. Will's body, unlike his, is more marked. His abdomen calls for desire and his member.... Hannibal won't know how to hold back.
- Come closer - he asks.
- I've never... I don't know if...
- Come closer. As your psychiatrist, I only want what's best for you.
Will doesn't know why, but he believes him. So he sits next to Hannibal, stark naked, while Hannibal keeps an eye on his penis. It's making him nervous.
- I've summoned you here, dear Will - Hannibal's hand goes down his shoulder - because I want to help you. Help us - it's moving down, now across his abdomen -. Get to know each other.
With the last word his hand rests on Will's cock, which begins to come alive. He places his hand over his, and when Hannibal thinks he's going to push it away, Will is urging him to continue. He wants it, and so does he. In one swift movement he stands over the young man, his eyes fixed on Will's, who is unable to articulate a word. Hannibal wishes he could know what he thinks.
- You'll like it," he says.
And he begins to lick him so savagely that Will finally says something, his hands clutching the sheets and his feet clenching from the pleasure he's receiving.
- Hannibal... I can't stand it... ....
Do it, he glares at Will. Do it and mark me. I've been yours for a long time. His movements are voracious, so is his hunger for him. He's still dressed and regrets not at least taking off his trousers. They are causing him discomfort.
Will spasms into an orgasm and holds Hannibal's hair as he cums. It's been too long since he's had one like this.
Hannibal, of course, has registered each and every one of Will's features as he climaxes. What great memories to go back to whenever he wants to.
- Will...
- Mmmm
- What do you say we...?
- It would be rude to leave you like this, Dr. Lecter - Will's mischievous eyes warm Hannibal more than any fire. Everyone knows how much he hates rudeness.
Smart boy. Sweet, handsome. Empathy made person. Hannibal relishes, finally pushing aside those trousers that were torture.
If therapy is proving a success, though I couldn't say exactly for which of the two. Him, getting what he wants, or Will, getting what he didn't know he needed.
