The last few days have been a complete upheaval of Will's life. From deciding to set a trap to catch Hannibal in order to prove that Hannibal framed Will for murders he'd committed, to changing his mind in an instant and becoming not only a fugitive, harboring a known murderer, but also Hannibal's partner, confidant, and lover. Likewise he's seen many changes in Hannibal over that period as well, glimpses of his true self becoming wide open offerings. When they'd fucked in Baltimore, Hannibal had maintained restraint and dominance, but here in Paris he's giving Will everything, showing Will his unveiled feelings of love and desire, of trust and a yearning to be complete equals in all things.
Seeing Hannibal break like this, his breath hitching as Will describes how he wants to cut marks into Hannibal's skin, leaving possessive scars, lends much more weight to what Hannibal is willingly giving to Will. If Hannibal's love for Will wasn't complete he would be afraid of this offer, but there isn't a fleck of fear in Hannibal's eyes, only arousal.
Will's pulse is heavy in his veins as Hannibal speaks, and he can feel it throbbing at his wrists and the sides of his throat, at his groin where Hannibal idly touches him with his lips and his breath as he tells Will what he wants to do. Will's thoughts had been basic, long straight lines, something clean and surgical that Hannibal could explain away as old injuries if he wanted to, or needed to. It shouldn't surprise Will that Hannibal's designs are so much more artistic, something that could be done by putting a brush in the hand of a surgeon, painting Will's flesh with the finely sharpened blade of a scalpel.
He imagines Hannibal at work, bent over Will's back like a canvas, leaving red slashes behind as he creates a living masterpiece. Will shivers at the thought of it, of being part of Hannibal's design and living to tell the tale. He swallows against the rush that comes through him, pleasure and desire, the thrill at the prospect of controlled pain, at submitting to Hannibal's whim.
"My back," he says after another moment of dizzying contemplation. "So you'll see it when you fuck me," he explains, and they both know Hannibal's not always going to take Will like that from behind, that Hannibal's not always going to be the one taking. But the idea of being marked with the image of an animal, one that has haunted Will's dreams as a reminder of Hannibal's influence, makes Will imagine himself again as Hannibal's mate, bowing and submitting to Hannibal's call to instinct, and he wants Hannibal to see what he's made when he mounts Will that way, taking what belongs to him.
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Seeing Hannibal break like this, his breath hitching as Will describes how he wants to cut marks into Hannibal's skin, leaving possessive scars, lends much more weight to what Hannibal is willingly giving to Will. If Hannibal's love for Will wasn't complete he would be afraid of this offer, but there isn't a fleck of fear in Hannibal's eyes, only arousal.
Will's pulse is heavy in his veins as Hannibal speaks, and he can feel it throbbing at his wrists and the sides of his throat, at his groin where Hannibal idly touches him with his lips and his breath as he tells Will what he wants to do. Will's thoughts had been basic, long straight lines, something clean and surgical that Hannibal could explain away as old injuries if he wanted to, or needed to. It shouldn't surprise Will that Hannibal's designs are so much more artistic, something that could be done by putting a brush in the hand of a surgeon, painting Will's flesh with the finely sharpened blade of a scalpel.
He imagines Hannibal at work, bent over Will's back like a canvas, leaving red slashes behind as he creates a living masterpiece. Will shivers at the thought of it, of being part of Hannibal's design and living to tell the tale. He swallows against the rush that comes through him, pleasure and desire, the thrill at the prospect of controlled pain, at submitting to Hannibal's whim.
"My back," he says after another moment of dizzying contemplation. "So you'll see it when you fuck me," he explains, and they both know Hannibal's not always going to take Will like that from behind, that Hannibal's not always going to be the one taking. But the idea of being marked with the image of an animal, one that has haunted Will's dreams as a reminder of Hannibal's influence, makes Will imagine himself again as Hannibal's mate, bowing and submitting to Hannibal's call to instinct, and he wants Hannibal to see what he's made when he mounts Will that way, taking what belongs to him.