Hannibal has always had the talent and skills to use his body and his
mind to take what he wants from people, like a musician playing an
instrument, coaxing exactly the right sounds with each deft touch of
his fingers. Will's been at the mercy of Hannibal's puppet strings
himself enough times to know what that tug feels like, to be able to
identify when the moves he's making are part of Hannibal's design.
It's how he can be completely certain that here, in this moment,
Hannibal's actions aren't calculated or premeditated. The way Hannibal
clutched at him was fueled entirely by Hannibal's true and genuine
desire for him, as is the tone of his voice now, the deepness of it as
it vibrates under Will hungry mouth. Will knows there's a part of
Hannibal that thrills at the idea of Will sinking his teeth in,
spilling Hannibal's blood, bathing himself in the hot, heavy arterial
spray. That thought, as well as the other things Hannibal is desperate
for, is what's causing the quick throb of Hannibal's pulse, and it's
feeding Will as well, driving him on, their thirst for each other
calling out, lifting them up until they reach the pinnacle.
Will doesn't take his mouth away from Hannibal's throat as his hands
work their way down, unbuckling Hannibal's belt and opening the button
on the front of his trousers. He licks into the hollow between
Hannibal's collarbones as he draws the zipper down, dragging his nose
and mouth along Hannibal's sternum, nuzzling into the mat of chest
hair as he stoops to push Hannibal's pants and underwear down, hooking
his thumbs in the waist of both garments and dragging them to
Hannibal's knees, and then further to his ankles.
He pauses, resting on one knee and turning his eyes up to Hannibal,
his body bared aside from his open shirt and the puddle of clothing
caught at his shoes. It's a stunning sight, the beginnings of arousal
thickening Hannibal's cock between his thighs, Hannibal's dark eyes on
him, so heated and intense that it feels like a physical touch. Again
Will feels like a disciple at the feet of his savior, but he realizes,
even as he thinks it, that he's Hannibal's redeemer as much as
Hannibal is his. They've saved each other, found each other, are
making each other whole in a way they've never been before.
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Date: 2016-09-12 08:22 am (UTC)Hannibal has always had the talent and skills to use his body and his mind to take what he wants from people, like a musician playing an instrument, coaxing exactly the right sounds with each deft touch of his fingers. Will's been at the mercy of Hannibal's puppet strings himself enough times to know what that tug feels like, to be able to identify when the moves he's making are part of Hannibal's design.
It's how he can be completely certain that here, in this moment, Hannibal's actions aren't calculated or premeditated. The way Hannibal clutched at him was fueled entirely by Hannibal's true and genuine desire for him, as is the tone of his voice now, the deepness of it as it vibrates under Will hungry mouth. Will knows there's a part of Hannibal that thrills at the idea of Will sinking his teeth in, spilling Hannibal's blood, bathing himself in the hot, heavy arterial spray. That thought, as well as the other things Hannibal is desperate for, is what's causing the quick throb of Hannibal's pulse, and it's feeding Will as well, driving him on, their thirst for each other calling out, lifting them up until they reach the pinnacle.
Will doesn't take his mouth away from Hannibal's throat as his hands work their way down, unbuckling Hannibal's belt and opening the button on the front of his trousers. He licks into the hollow between Hannibal's collarbones as he draws the zipper down, dragging his nose and mouth along Hannibal's sternum, nuzzling into the mat of chest hair as he stoops to push Hannibal's pants and underwear down, hooking his thumbs in the waist of both garments and dragging them to Hannibal's knees, and then further to his ankles.
He pauses, resting on one knee and turning his eyes up to Hannibal, his body bared aside from his open shirt and the puddle of clothing caught at his shoes. It's a stunning sight, the beginnings of arousal thickening Hannibal's cock between his thighs, Hannibal's dark eyes on him, so heated and intense that it feels like a physical touch. Again Will feels like a disciple at the feet of his savior, but he realizes, even as he thinks it, that he's Hannibal's redeemer as much as Hannibal is his. They've saved each other, found each other, are making each other whole in a way they've never been before.