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Hannibal freezes almost immediately as he bears witness to the chrysalis he had so coddled and nurtured erupted into a completely complex new proxy. One with a vision, one with a defined and redefined motive. The absolute becoming of Will Graham in this one moment surpasses that captivating night with the Great Red Dragon. A terrifying feat.
After all, Hannibal’s days of alarming loss of control over the hurricane of endorphins after such an intense high had long since passed through the quiet of the stream. But this, this tantalizing kaleidoscope of chemical reactions on the edge of rocketing through his veins, had reminded him of his first fix. That beautiful rush of power, arousal, and utter morale spinning freedom filled Hannibal’s every pore with desire.
Will is beautiful, terrifying, as he crosses the heated wooden planks beneath them, the foundation of a nightmare, the stolen and desecrated beginning to a sonnet of their prey among other things.
No. This time Hannibal would merely gaze upon Will as his god.
This was Will's prey, his own choice select victim. He is the conductor of this symphony, and prized first seat violinist raveled into one supreme package.
Will is carrying a tool of mass carnage with the strength and confidence of a Greek god. The tantalizing ease in which Will's muscles glide and smooth over his bones sends a dizzying rush of utter affection through Hannibal's very core. This was the electrifying darkness he’d glimpsed through the looking glass upon their first meeting. In a strange manner, Hannibal supposed this ethereal experience was similar to anxiously gifting his virginity away. That level of exhilaration had long since been an item in his past, but Will had the glorifying honor of kindling surprises for Hannibal in the present.
The chainsaw is not the most graceful of choices from this victim's home, but it is one that is none the less artistic as a flaying knife. It bears the finality of a gun, with the finesse of a scalpel.
It will paint and rain pieces of gore across them like a Jackson Pollock painting. It sends trembles and shivers of unhinged excitement down the intricate carvings of Hannibal's spine. Each vertebrae shifting with heightened pleasure as the hot lance spearing through to his gut becomes near unbearable to cage his own beast back.
Hannibal wants nothing but to savor the exquisite display threatening to uncurl violently and suddenly. To interrupt his own precious moth as it takes flight farther than the first time learning to fly, would be sullying everything.
Hannibal is a desperate man hanging over the edge of delirious obsession, and the overall picture he’d painted will into, held scraps of his own blood. His Will, while mighty and solo, had forced his way aggressively into Hannibal’s heart. A place in which the killer of dear Mischa had bitten into last. Yet Will was a graft that buried fast and deep. A violent parasite.
He won't name it beyond such cautious treads. Then nothing but his ashes would remain un-sodomized by the glorious base existence of the marvelous being across the room. Then it wouldn’t have such a wretched and wicked heat if dear Will ever decided to feast upon his heart and leave.
Hannibal was content to play chess for the very reason that sometimes pawns would kill kings. And dismantle the earth Will would do. Hannibal would relish and devour those that sought to impede.
Without so much of a glance of sympathy towards his prey, Will bends with a grace he'd sinewed into his behavior the day he'd left the BHSCI, and plugs in his weapon of choice. His knuckles are white and twisting around the handle in an anxious perversion. The notion of which simply adds gasoline to the heady mixture of emotions whirling through Hannibal’s gut.
This victim is a girl with red hair, it cascades down her naked form as she simply weeps against the log support column she's shackled tightly against. One of the many columns supporting the weight of her humble cabin.
Will had chosen her due to her striking resemblance to a past long tossed away, Hannibal liked to think. Plucked from a time in which Will played house with two dolls and his pack.
But this girl will never be her.
Hannibal is ever envious of the precious metal searing against Will’s skin. Molly (dare he even think her name) had been the only person Hannibal felt the need to truly rip apart since Mischa’s killer. The rest had been whims, and this was a roiling wildfire in the vicinity of a chemical plant.
Will feels the power, the heady mix of pleasure as they intoxicatingly inject into his dopamine receptors. He feels a startling sense of clarity, and Hannibal knows from his keen sense of smell.
He knows Will is aware of exactly the same teasing foreplay that Garrett Jacob Hobbs titillated on with his dolls. Will’s mind is drenched with this feeling. It's only exemplified by the absolute lightning strike that fires across every one of Will's overactive neurons when he manages to catch Hannibal's enraptured eyes. In return, Hannibal is rendered speechless, despite not communicating verbally since their arrival at this quaint cabin.
Hannibal's expression is equal to the forced pleasure of being stuffed to the brim, the utter breaking point in which your stomach would burst open and color the ground in a multitude of bodily fluids. Yet still managing one last bite of food. If only to satisfy a partner’s pleasure. Will finds that nothing else would bare a candle nor justice to the debauched expression currently worshiping the very ground beneath his feet.
Will craves the desecration and utter filth of wrecking the trembling woman against the column.
With a desperate whine from this girl, Will steadied his gaze upon her shaking flesh as he revs the chainsaw to life.
He's given life to a tool capable of catastrophic art.
There is no hesitation as Will closes in on the girl, he raises the purring tool as close to her skin as possible without breaking in just yet. This gap is quickly closed as the girl’s trembling sobs causes her to break her own skin against the rotating blade.
The instant her eyes light up with shock and pain, Will experiences the most violent onslaught of pleasure as it wraps vice against his intestines. The feeling causes Will to brace a hand above the girl’s head, he removes the whirring scythe away from her pasty skin- for now.
Will is aching, throbbing as pre-cum pools headily against the inside of his boxers, and he wants nothing more than to rut against this girl. Only because Hannibal is currently farthest from him, and Will feels another hot rush of ecstasy as he finds Hannibal’s exquisite eyes enveloped by a cruel ebony. Hannibal’s attention is unwavering and Will’s breath hitches aggressively, wordlessly he knows Hannibal can sense his base instinct.
Will for a split second considers taking his maddeningly hard erection out, and pawing himself to completion against this woman’s skin as she crumbles before him, but Will is not about to share that intimate piece with this maddening woman.
Once Will is certain the initial buzz of violence has simmered down and brought back from the brink of sending him into a mind-blowing orgasm, he lifts the roaring tool once again and steps back.
He’s rather flabbergasted for a moment as the realization that this woman has been screaming her lungs out for the past few moments, he watches on enthralled with the glorious pulse each new rivulet of blood manages to possess. Perhaps Will had wanted to push down this urge at one point, after the dragon he wanted to try, but oh how naughty it feels to embrace his darkest urges.
This high is beyond that of the dragon already, and Will has yet to inflict much damage to this girl physically.
He has the urge to decapitate her, but he’ll save this savory idea for later. After he’s delighted in his fill.
He’d cleanse this girl of her liver, and sacrament the organ of Hannibal’s choosing for Foie Gras moose against their veranda, later.
For now, Will fixates on the desire to urge as much pleasure from his body possible, he wants to hang on the brink of orgasm, writhing in desperate aches, all while Hannibal’s unwavering gaze, eagerly drinks in everything Will offered to him.
So Will does, he takes the violent plunge and sets the ever-grinding weapon’s teeth softly against the woman’s left shoulder. Immediately blood-curdling cries fill the air.
“Please, Please… PLEASE, I have a family! I-I’m not… I don’t want to die!!” The woman screeches and gurgles slightly on her own spit, the hysteria bubbling through this girl fuels Will’s own ebbing darkness.
“Shut…. Up…” Will manages to grit out against the grinding sounds and screams marinating the air with a heady and fast staccato opera.
He pressed down harder and is rewarded with the first brutal splintering noise of many to come.
“Jesus… oh fuck…” Will grapples fast against the handle, unintentionally driving the merciless weapon deeper into the girl’s flesh. Will lets out a harsh breath and delicate mewl of approval as he watches chunks of meat, globs of fat, and splinters of bone as they rain against the wood. Will has little self-control to dismiss the cruel thought that passes by, that this wood would make for gorgeous cherry wood in the aftermath.
Wielding the weapon with one hand, Will lets it hang into the deep wound for a minute, as his freed hand adjusts his penis into a more comfortable position, he’s pulsing with life, and losing grip on his own.
This, this is the feeling he revels in.
Will is losing his mind to the sensations he’d craved since before his days on the police force.
“Will…” Hannibal croaks from his perch across the room, poised to strike at any given moment.
“Watch me… Hannibal… Oh, I want you to watch me rip her in two…” Will feels his mouth moving before any analyzation of his words can occur.
The chainsaw is embedded deep into the meat right above the swell of her left breast, and oh does it slice with the ease of a heated knife through butter. It slides with an aggressive crunch while mutilating soft snow bones embedded like knights in shining armor in front of the heart.
“Will, your beauty has rendered me speechless…” Hannibal says softly, his voice wavering with the minutest hints of something deeper. The game is considerably more difficult now that his queen has taken to the board. Hannibal’s beast is clawing through a person suit used to happily portray success and sophistication. Will is a hammer against said person suit, disrobing and swift in successful swings, Hannibal craves.
“I-I want your eyes only to fall across my skin…” Will heaves and with a brutality he’d only lived out vicariously through Hannibal’s kills, he grates the chainsaw even further down this woman’s gushing body. With a sudden gross subversion of strength, the chainsaw rips through the rest of supple flesh, messily severing her body in half. Fountains of blood leap across Will’s skin with its final blow, and pieces of soft chewy gore chunks scatter everywhere.
“I want your essence… I want to chase your sequestered pieces…” He tapers off, voice nothing but a soft murmur. Will knows Hannibal hasn’t heard him properly, which is perfectly sublime. Will is momentarily rendered still, and embarrassment stakes no claim in his breast as a breathtaking orgasm starts to dismantle his sanity with one single fell swoop.
“Hannibal! I want so much from you!” Will nearly screams with hysteria and pleasure as he falls to his knees, following the slick heavy slide of the victim’s intestines as they uncoil onto the wooden cabin floor. With delicious squelching noises, the corpse’s organs fall one by one from their cradle, Will has the strongest urge to crunch them with his teeth. Will slams his eyes shut, body falling further as he lays against the bloody mess of ripped muscles and fat.
A very tempting low hanging fruit sings to Will, a kidney having fallen out from the devastation. Will reaches for the kidney and squishes it with a tightly clenched fist. It bursts like a bubble and gurgles through the cracks in-between his fingers, and he knows most of the meat will be spoiled, but everything fades to black against the pleasure coursing through his veins. It’s this knowledge that causes Will to finally open his eyes and meet Hannibal’s gaze as the last pearly streaks of his release seep into his black silk boxers.
He could still hear the cacophony of screams that had long since faded into the void, Will could hear them as they echoed in harmony with each bated breath that Hannibal took in. Coupled with the maddening pulsing urge to relive the crime scene over and over, just to feel the rush of the final strike, Will has never felt more alive. Their eyes speak without the need for words, Hannibal’s nostrils flare as he takes a deep shuddering breath. And Will instantly knew the other is keenly aware of his release.
If it were possible for someone to have entirely blown pupils, so that no ring of color eclipsed such a pretty obsidian black, Hannibal had been the one to venture down that path.
The clear, yet stormy ocean blue was waging a war against the darkest blood red the eye could differentiate between black. Hannibal had already made up his mind.
Hannibal was crossing the room quickly, his shoes squeaking and squishing organs as he treads swiftly through the human sludge, he’d cross a bed of hot coals on bare feet to get to Will in this instance. Will has yet to remove the violated kidney from his grasp, and before he can think to dispose of it and latch onto Hannibal, the man is leaning over him, sweeping his hands through the bloody mess as if he were trying to gather everything up.
The first touch of their skin sends sparks of promise racing down Will’s spine, he feels as though he’d been spit roasted over an open flame against the tantalizing ebony gaze above him. What a glorious midnight flame indeed. Hannibal lifts Will’s wrist very gingerly to his face before taking the plunge and scooping up the kidney pulp with his tongue.
Will feels like a crystal mold with hot liquid metal filling his every crevice. Will has nothing left to hide, nor would he ever want to hide this beautiful misery any longer. Will knows this fate had been sealed for him the first time he met Dr. Lecter’s gaze many moons ago.
So be it.
Hannibal’s eyes shut as forced breaths are seemingly punched from him, every swipe of his tongue he dips a little closer to tasting Will’s skin. When he finally feels emboldened enough to taste the skin he’d long since craved to devour, Will’s lust riddled voice fills the space between them.
“Hannibal… Lick me clean…” Will mumbles in a daze as he loosens his vice grip on the kidney. It’s just enough to allow Hannibal’s tongue the space to caress each of Will’s digits. His graceful hands that had once tried so hard to save their surrogate. The very same hands that fantasized for years, dark dreams of death and pleasure wound up together so irreversibly.
“You don’t know the depths of which you request from me…” Hannibal murmurs, his voice is gloriously on the verge of breaking, the incredible amount of need that slips through is uncontrollable.
“Hannibal… You’ve held the best parts of me in your brilliant mind palace for so long. You’ve known me better then I’ve known myself…” Will nearly chokes against his words. He pauses briefly as the heart of the victim protruding from half of the corpse becomes all too distracting.
Will fetches the quivering mass and epicenter of the human being with both of his palms. The cleansing kidney pulp smashed against the windows of the human heart.
“You’ve harbored so much for me… Deep within the confines of this person suit…” Will feels his anguished cry leap from his throat as it clogs heavily with long-buried emotions.
There is no stopping the hurricane once it hits land.
“You’ve been… In love with me since the very beginning!” Hysteria likes to play on the edge of Will’s every breath. “You’ve carved out a place for me in Florence! Left me your broken heart…” The tears are inevitable, they dangle softly before cascading down his gore-drenched cheeks. Each one softly caressing across the raised skin from their fight with the dragon.
Hannibal isn’t often rendered speechless, but he finds himself on the edge of madness that spews from Will’s lips. They’re so close, supple and sweet in the frantic manner they form words.
“Why the fuck do you think I suggested the plan to free you under supervision!!” Will’s entire body clenches as the memories from such a time, a time which influenced his actions tonight.
“Can’t live with me… Can’t survive without me…” Hannibal speaks after some time. Will wants to skin Hannibal, for someone who had played games so well his entire life, doubt often seemed to cloud his vision lately.
“I’m so in love with you Hannibal, I’m losing my fucking mind!” Will shouts as he grips onto the once beating life source in his hands so hard, a soft trickle of once-hot blood slides down his fingers like chocolate. “I’m not sick any more Hannibal! The feelings you evoke in me… They’re akin to the encephalitis wreaking havoc across my brain!” Hannibal slips against the bloody pulp on the floor and at once his entire body freezes, each breath that forces its way from his lungs burn with the effort to suppress.
Hannibal wants this beautiful creature like no other.
“Will, beautiful enchanting, Will…” Hannibal brokenly whispers against Will’s lips. They don’t fight the distance.
You know the feeling that crosses through each one of your brains receptors at the exact moment in which you tip over the edge with orgasm? The utter wreckage of endorphins that flood through each ridge of brain meat? That is the feeling that pools and circles between these two, as their lips share what should have been theirs on the edge of the bluff.
The electric pulse skimming under their skin melds into one, and Will is trapped in his empathy. The endless feedback loop of lips against lips becomes a bright gaping hole in the sun when their tongues come into the fray.
“Oh, Hannibal… Please fuck me!” Will whines desperately against each slip and slide of their lips. They fit together as perfect as two matching puzzle pieces. “Use her blood and open me up! Open me up like one of your victims! Spear through me and roast me over the open flame!” Will doesn’t even recognize his voice anymore.
“Dear boy… You offer me no respite to sort through this evening…” Hannibal growls against Will’s lips as his hands harshly envelop Will’s throat, he squeezes with every ounce of strength the beat within him possess. Will keens and arches up into their tantalizing closeness, at once, his hands release the bruised heart and immediately, instinctually he rips into Hannibal’s hands desperate to breathe.
“Let me pleasure your skin with the same treatment I reserve for the corpses I used to butcher beneath my home… Dear boy, you know only what you’ve felt from me… You know nothing of the wishes I have for your flesh…” Hannibal’s face is twisted with tears and aggression as he struggles against Will’s vice claws ripping his flesh.
“You’ve savored me, in a way that no other has. You’ve used me, changed me for your own pleasure and indecisiveness. If I didn’t hold such strong feelings for you dearest, I’d rip you limb from limb. Detach your skin from bone, eat your flesh raw and bleeding. I’d consume you out of rage and love!!” Hannibal’s voice is rising in volume with his effort to cut Will’s air supply off completely.
He wishes he didn’t care. It’d be so easy.
“But no matter what I try to physically wring out of your skin, you still managed to slip between my fingers. You are the only one I worship…” Hannibal takes a deep breath before he’s able to speak against the emotions clogging his normality.
Such was the fault of letting his person suit shred.
“I can’t seem to be rid of you. I don’t want to be rid of you. As much as the thought tempts me so. I wish to worship you, dear boy. Taste the skin from your flesh as you give it life. Will, I’ve been in love with you the very moment you held my gaze for the first time. I knew somehow that you’d take apart my deepest places, and rearrange them to your will.”
Will feels dizzy, spots bloom across his line of vision, and right before the plunge that felt so close, Hannibal granted him a reprieve and lifted the heavy veil against his throat, only to replace it with his teeth.
Hannibal is ripping violently into the crook of Will’s shoulder, and Will lets him while sobbing relief and grief. He takes damaging breaths and begins to shift and unclothe himself in the minimal space between the two.
Hannibal will have none of it.
He immediately grapples for Will’s hands and breaks his finger sideways until it snaps, the ring clangs with a harsh finality to the ground. Will doesn't notice, but to Hannibal it is everything.
“Fuck Hannibal!” Will sobs, disgusted by his twisted finger, the pain does nothing but heighten his shot senses. He has been elevated through the veil, and they have yet to intimately touch each other.
“You will leave your hands against the mush that was once your victim’s pulsing life. If you remove them from the heart, I will punish you more.” Hannibal whispers against the deep rip in Will’s no, Hannibal’s own self-caused scars that litter Will’s skin.
“Yesss! Yes! Yes!” Will chokes and immediately scrambles to seek purchase on the once pulsating organ. It squishes and squeezes more blood onto the navy of his shirt.
Hannibal briefly lifts himself from Will, fetches a flaying knife from his pocket, and slices into Will’s top. The buttons scatter and slip through blood before skidding to a halt. Hannibal then works with little patience on ridding Will of such vile clothing. (He’ll find this thought amusing later, considering he purchased these clothes) but in the moment, they merely pose as an annoying obstacle.
Will’s pants are shoved down his legs, and his boxers are soon to follow.
Hannibal pauses in his aggressive disrobing to lean down and breathe in the musky scent of Will’s previous orgasm, his nostrils flare and Hannibal lets his beast growl possessively.
“You’ve always belonged to me Will. I’ll take you here, against the gore of your creation… The most beautiful morphing of everything I’ve managed to bring out in you…” Hannibal licks softly against the heady mixture of Will’s pre-cum which is steadily dripping from the tip of his sex.
The liquid is pooling rapidly against his pubic hair, further proof that this was always the path they’d destined to find themselves taken down.
“Use me.” Will offers simply, as he meets Hannibal’s gaze through crystal tears.
So Hannibal does. He briefly stops his ministrations against his Will’s skin and desperately frees his erection from the confines of his binding. After ridding himself partly of the clothes immediately impeding his desires, Hannibal decides he wants to feel Will’s hands clutch onto the bloodied heart against his chest as he moves. His shirt is ripped off and tossed haphazardly to the side.
There is no need for any pleasantries such as folding clothes.
Hannibal then wraps his steady fingers near the base of his penis, before he leans down and grasps Will’s quivering length around his hand as well. He strokes them desperately, all hard friction and no reprieve as they slide together messily.
Will’s eyes are shut. Which will not do.
“Watch me,” Hannibal growls, as soon as crystal orbs fixate upon him once more, he dips his fingers into the congealing blood all around them. Its texture would be similar to Jello in some regards, but there is still enough liquid to serve his purpose. If he doesn’t use it soon, it will start to dry up and make the purpose of this lubrication useless.
Will howls as he feels two fingers spear through his opening, there is no time to get used to the feeling before Hannibal is crooking his fingers into his beloved, searching for the blinding treasure buried within the walls of his intestines.
Will takes everything, all while never wavering his gaze from Hannibal’s own.
Hannibal has little patience and pulls his surgeon fingers from the sucking depths to add a third fingure to the mixture. Will feels as though he may truly be speared in two, but he is eager for this pain. He feels it wash over his skin and soak through his veins. He feels as though Hannibal is trying to split him and live inside of him. The thought is rather comforting in a strange manner. His thoughts are short lived however as Hannibal graces harshly over his prostate.
“Ohhhh Hannibal—right! AH!” Will screams out against Hannibal’s shoulder, he grips the flesh there and marks it deeply to match his own wound. Will has managed to pierce through the heart with four of his fingers, his broken one hanging straight out. The flesh ripping adds to the obscene squelching noises in the room.
Hannibal is nothing but a reciprocal lover, he takes for his own pleasure sure, but there was also no need to not worship and bring his lover to a mind-blowing completion with him. Hannibal removes his fingers and replaces them with the blunt head of his weeping length, where he teases against the puckered ring of muscle a few times.
“Tell me its ok…” Hannibal whispers as he dips his head down to meet Will’s lips in a gentler kiss than their previous claiming passionate one.
“Do you really need to ask me?!” Will grinds out, his body arched like a taut bow, ready to fire at the slightest movement in the underbrush. “I just asked you to rip me in two… What else do you want from me…” He mumbles softer this time, his tears continue their sweet path, but none the less, he feels more compelled now more than ever to bridge the gap between them irreversibly.
“Forgive me for my continued hesitations…” Hannibal gasps as he presses the blunt head of his penis past the sublime ring of muscle. It’s the very notion that the body he’s inside is Will, that truly renders Hannibal’s heart escalating as close to Will’s as possible.
This is everything and anything that they will ever be. Sex, gore, and a damnable version of lust and love on the cusp of acceptance. Beautiful, sublime, ravishing, none of these could begin to hope to encapsulate this reckoning so deeply intertwined beneath their skin.
Will pushes his hips as far back as they will go in his position, as he lifts the battered heart up to Hannibal’s lips as a quaint yet grotesque offering. The minute Hannibal’s sharp teeth close against the deliciously abused flesh, Will also carves soft crescents in the mound with just as much force as Hannibal.
They move together in tandem, never quite breaking eye contact. Blood flows freely between them as they feast upon their offering. They chew and swallow in near synchronicity, they press and pull between the floor and halfway congealed blood clots sticking against the floorboards. Will’s cries are greatly muffled against pink gushing blood, with every blood vessel and artery they crunch between their teeth, the higher the two climb.
Hannibal’s hands have taken to stroking Will’s nipples, his chest, before settling on his hips with enough strength to break skin and bruise.
They move in harmony and climb to the highest peak of pleasure.
Release settles into their skin quickly and explodes with the power of a firework factory lighting up in a wildfire, as their tongues and teeth collide after devouring their raw offering to completion.
Will knows in this moment, nothing would be able to satisfy him. No other path would have deterred him from this inevitable end.
They cum separately but none the less euphoric, Hannibal’s orgasm send shock waves through Will’s empathy and pushes him over the edge.
This, this was their design.
~~~
Fin