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Hannibal placed two silver platters down on the center of the table, one after another, removing the domed cover of the first one. The smell of charred thyme and lavender filled the air, revealing two sumptuous cuts of lamb.
He uncovered the other dish, revealing a rectangular plate loaded with green beans and garlic and a bowl of mashed potatoes with chunks of what looked like sun dried tomato.
He pulled the chair back for Will to sit down on the right side of the table, then sat down himself, taking up the serving fork and placing a piece of lavender-crusted piece of lamb down onto the plate in front of Will.
“Unusual coating on this meat,” Will mumbled, prodding at his piece with his fork. Hannibal gave him a tight smile and took a piece for himself along with some of the side dishes.
“A dish of my creation. I apologize that this is not nearly as elaborate as my other presentations, but I wanted to appeal to your tastes.”
Will’s eyes narrowed, but he took a spoonful of mashed potatoes and a fair few green beans for himself, ignoring the look Hannibal gave him as he served himself at his table. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were calling me simple.”
The corners of Hannibal’s eyes creased, and a glint of humor shone through. His lips turned up slightly as he picked up the bottle of wine on the table and smoothly poured some into Will’s glass, then his own. “Of course not, dear Will. In my own experiences, things like this speak for themselves most of the time.”
Will scowled to himself as he picked up his glass, closing his eyes as he drained the wineglass in one large gulp. The wine was strong and fragrant, and almost had a taste like dark cherries and raspberries. Despite the fruity flavors of the wine, it was rather dry and had Will humming in satisfaction.
Hannibal watched as a drop trickled down his chin and neck, seeping into the collar of his shirt, a hungry expression in his eyes as his tongue darted out to wet his lip. The glass hit the table with a heavy thunk as Will wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Good wine,” he murmured, almost reverently (if Will knew how to be reverent at all).
“I’m glad you think so.” Hannibal gave a cryptic smile as he took up his knife and fork, cutting into the meat on his plate, revealing a deep red interior. The smell of lavender became stronger. “I hope you don’t mind that the meat is rare.”
Will shook his head, cutting into his own piece and taking a bite that was too big to be considered socially acceptable. “‘S good,” he mumbled, mouth full.
And it was; the meat melted in his mouth, dissolving easily almost like butter. He almost regretted calling it simple. The flavor was anything but simple, the lavender lending a floral edge to the gamey meat while the thyme provided a woodsy tinge. It was nothing like Will had ever experienced, complex, yet the flavors were harmonious.
Hannibal took a substantially smaller bite, chewing and swallowing.
Will chewed, swallowed, then spoke. “Hannibal, why did you call me here tonight? You could have had anyone come to your table tonight, yet it was me. Why is that?”
Hannibal gave him an unreadable stare. “Perhaps I wanted your company. Perhaps I was lonely.”
Will snorted. “Do men like you even get lonely?”
“We get lonely, just like anyone else.” Hannibal took a delicate sip of wine.
“I doubt it. Being lonely means being human.”
“What makes you think I am not human?”
“Do you want that alphabetically, or chronologically?” Will stabbed into the green beans on his plate, shoving them into his mouth as if he had never tasted anything so delicious. The green beans were easier to comprehend than the meat, yet no less delectable; they were crisp and buttery with just the right amount of garlic to flavor but not be overwhelming. With a hungry, almost desperate demeanor, he took a large forkful of the mashed potatoes. They were buttery smooth, with undertones of the sun dried tomato he had seen earlier in the bowl. Surprisingly, there was the familiar flavor of goat cheese, and… was that a hint of basil? Will let out an involuntary soft moan of pleasure, closing his eyes and tilting his head back.
Hannibal watched him with a cryptic expression on his face. “The food won’t run away from you if you eat slowly. Better not to risk the choking hazard, don’t you think?”
Will snorted again, wiping his mouth with the fine cloth napkin that had been laying on the table, unused. To make his point, he took another large bite of meat, and had visible trouble swallowing it. Hannibal’s lips turned up into an endeared smile, and he took another small bite of meat himself.
“Let us return to our previous topic of conversation,” Hannibal said placidly. “What makes you think I’m not human?”
“You don’t react to anything.” By now, the wine was coursing through Will’s bloodstream, loosening his tongue. “You never react to anything. Not anything I do, not anything anyone says. You act like a machine, like you’re programmed to say things. Who talks like that, anyway?”
Hannibal raised an eyebrow as he took a delicate bite of mashed potatoes. “Me, apparently.”
“My point exactly.” Will leveled a finger at him. “You talk like that.”
“And that makes me not human?” A soft exhale left Hannibal’s lips. It could almost be mistaken for an amused laugh. “What does it mean to be human to you, Will?”
Will scoffed. “What is this, a therapy session?”
“Food is therapeutic. A common lived experience, if you will.”
“Only you, Hannibal.” Will shook his head as he reached across the table, much to Hannibal’s disapproval, took the wine bottle in hand, and poured himself another glass that was a bit too full to be polite.
“Excess is sin,” Hannibal breathed, watching wine trickle from the neck of the bottle into Will’s glass.
Will set the bottle down and raised his glass. “Then call me the Devil.”
“Devil you are.” Hannibal’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as he picked up his own glass and clinked it against Will’s. The action seemed almost involuntary, given the hungry stare he leveled at Will.
Will’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Does that mean I’m tempting you?”
“What do you think I’m tempted to do, Will?” His tone carried false placidity, undermined only by the thinly veiled tinge of want in his voice.
“A normal man would have invited me to his table to fuck me. A normal man would have already had me flat on my back in his bedroom already.”
“But I am not normal?” Hannibal exhaled sharply.
Will’s voice was a whisper, but it had no less intensity than Hannibal’s. “Are you?”
Before he knew it, Hannibal was standing, pulling him up from his chair and yanking him into a harsh kiss. There was no tenderness to be found in the way his hands tangled in his hair. There was no kindness in the way his teeth pulled and bit at Will’s lower lip, but Will was helpless to the onslaught of sensation as he whimpered into the kiss.
Hannibal was backing him into the edge of the table. Hannibal was pressing his back to the table, pressing him to splay on the table like a sort of centerpiece. Will wondered vaguely if he was being made into a sick kind of table runner this way.
“What are you doing to me, Will?” Hannibal’s voice was a low growl as he moved down to assault Will’s neck, nipping at his pulse point. He sucked a deep reddish-purple mark into his skin. “Tempting me into having you when I had no such intentions when I invited you to my table. You would have me christen my dining table with your sin?”
“ Our sin,” Will hissed with a bitten off whimper as Hannibal bit down hard on his soft flesh. “You’re just as guilty as I am, if not more so, Dr. Lecter.”
Hannibal let out a soft growl, yanking Will to the other side to press his lips to the other side of his neck. “Do you ever shut up, Will?”
“Not unless someone makes me,” Will retorted, but his words were quickly stifled when Hannibal again sunk his teeth harder, deeper into Will’s neck. Blood ran down the side of his throat as he let out a whined moan. Hannibal pulled away, licking his scarlet-stained lips. There was something to be said for the way Will exhaled sharply at the sight of Hannibal’s lips coated in blood, and for once Will was pulling Hannibal into a searing kiss.
Their lips moved together, teeth clashing as Will used his strength to pull Hannibal around and slam him against the table as hard as he could. There was an audible whine from Hannibal as he hit the edge of the table.
“Why don’t we move this up to the bedroom, Will?” Hannibal opened his coppery eyes, dilated with lust as he looked at Will.
Will licked his lips. He could still taste the metallic tang of his own blood from Hannibal’s lips. “Lead the way.”
Hannibal took his hand, leading him through his house, up the staircase into an ornate bedroom. It smelled vaguely of the inhabitant’s cologne, and Will looked around at the sconces on the wall, lighting up the room with warm light. “Some place you have here,” Will commented, but he couldn’t get any more wisecracks out before Hannibal was scooping him up, tossing him onto the bed and climbing on top of him. It was practiced, no hint of clumsiness in the way he handled Will. Something about it made his nerves alight with passion, and the creature curled in the pit of his belly let out a purr at being handled so roughly.
Hannibal’s lips met Will’s again, this time in a kiss that was more gentle, sweeter than before, as if to apologize for his earlier treatment of Will. “How do you want me, Will?”
Will’s eyes met Hannibal’s, half-lidded with lust. “How do you think I want you?” he whispered.
Hannibal gave him a slight smile that was just a little too cryptic to inspire confidence, ducking his head to press soft kisses over the bites he had left before. Something about the tender action left Will gasping, writhing under Hannibal’s ministrations, and thinking vaguely that the only heaven he would know after tonight was when he was alone with Hannibal.
Hannibal raised his head, leaning in to whisper in Will’s ear a sentence that would play in his head, over and over and over on nights when Will was alone in his room, in his cold bed without Hannibal. “I can smell your arousal.”
Will shuddered, throwing his head back as much as he could to expose more of his throat to Hannibal. But icy hands were sliding up his shirt to toy with his nipples, causing him to squirm underneath Hannibal’s touch. He whimpered, long and loud as he tried his best to press into the touch but also remove himself from it. There was so much sensation, and he felt as if he would explode with the feeling. It didn’t help that Hannibal was mouthing at his collarbone the whole time, sucking and nipping at his skin to leave another deep purple mark in his skin.
“That’s it, Will. Come now, make more noises for me.” Hannibal’s murmur was almost reverent as he sucked at Will’s skin, and Will wondered how he was supposed to return to the coldness of his bed after this night with Hannibal.
“Hannibal,” he whispered, eyes glazed over with arousal. He was faintly aware of how his cock ached in his pants, and even more aware of it when Hannibal pinched at one of his nipples hard. The intense sensation drew a loud whimper out of Will as he bucked his hips sloppily into Hannibal’s thigh (when had his thigh slipped between his legs? Will wondered vaguely). “Hannibal, quit fucking teasing and just get on with it.”
“Patience is a virtue, dear Will. Practice it for me.”
Despite his preaching about patience, the hand that crept down his body and loosely wrapped itself around the bulge in his pants didn’t seem very virtuous to Will, and he wondered to himself whether Hannibal knew about his hypocrisy. That thought melted away when the hand tightened around his sensitive flesh. A hiss left his mouth as he writhed beneath Hannibal’s touch. “Hannibal,” he gasped, as his lover moved down to mouth gently at a (miraculously) unmarked part of his neck.
“I know, my darling.” A gentle nip from Hannibal’s teeth left Will gasping, unable to process the amount of pleasure he was feeling.
“Touch me,” Will whispered, tone pleading and thick with desire. He could feel Hannibal smile against his skin before his hands were pushing Will’s trousers down his hips, revealing his grey-blue boxers (with a very distinct wet patch on the front). An embarrassed, blotchy flush covered Will’s cheeks as Hannibal eyed him. Will thought vaguely that Hannibal was looking at him as if he was a piece of meat.
“You look delectable, Will,” Hannibal whispered, almost reverently. Will’s eyes met his, dilated so dark that you could hardly see his iris. Will’s tongue flicked out to wet his lips.
“Then consume me,” he whispered.
That was all the permission Hannibal needed, because he was pulling off the boxers Will was wearing, dragging them down his legs and flinging his pants and underwear somewhere into the room, pressing his lips to his bare thigh in a worshipful kiss that had Will arching his back with a soft moan. There was something to be said about the way Hannibal nipped at his thigh, as if he had been starving for Will and now he was having a taste of him. He pressed kisses up Will’s leg until he reached the crease of his thigh where he stopped, taking a deep breath through his nose, taking in Will’s pine-and-cedar scent. Will looked down at him incredulously, but also with a hint of longing that betrayed his arousal.
“Your scent is mouthwatering, Will,” Hannibal whispered into his inner thigh, and Will swallowed as he pressed worshipful kisses on the underside of Will’s shaft. He shivered in delight, but most of his pleasure came from the simple fact that he had Hannibal worshiping his body in such an intimate way when Will had done nothing to warrant it.
Then Hannibal was taking the head of his cock into his mouth, sucking gently. All the while, his gaze never left Will’s, as if daring him to challenge him. Come challenge me, his coppery eyes seemed to say, with a hint of playfulness. This was a game, and Hannibal Lecter was determined to win. Will arched his back, gasping and then moaning sweetly as Hannibal licked at a particularly sensitive spot. His vision swam in and out of focus as he blinked, again and again, trying to get his senses in order.
Hannibal let his cock slip from between his lips, drawing a protesting whine from Will’s bitten lips. “You are lucky no one is around to hear you, Will Graham,” he murmured, accent thicker than ever as his voice caused the slightest of vibrations against Will’s skin (even so, it was enough to make him shiver). “If there were, I surmise that there would be complaints galore.” Will made a noise in the back of his throat that could have been interpreted as protesting, but the noise died on its completion at the fire dancing in Hannibal’s eyes. Something about the look in his eyes made it very clear he was not going to be argued with.
Will’s steel blue gaze slipped from Hannibal to his cock, which was standing very proudly at attention without any sort of support from Hannibal’s hand nor his own. He swallowed hard as Hannibal’s copper gaze also slid to his cock, as if hungry for something. His instinctual feeling was that the meal they had had before at the dinner table was only to whet Hannibal’s appetite for this. A part of him balked at the idea.
Another, more vocal part of him, the creature curled in the pit of his belly, purred loudly.
Before he had time to process the hunger that flared in his stomach as he saw Hannibal sizing him up, he was stuttering, “Wait, Hanni- oh… ”
The gasped moan that left his mouth was not quite dignified, but who could blame him with the way Hannibal wrapped his lips around Will and took him down to the root?
Then Hannibal was swallowing around him, strong throat rippling around his sensitive flesh, and Will was letting out a high pitched whine, arching his back so hard that he felt it pop, and then he was coming, coming harder than he ever had in his life. His vision blurred for a second, then everything was going white, he was twitching and jerking beneath Hannibal’s strong hands settled on his hip bones, and only towards the tail end of his orgasm did he become faintly aware of the fact that he was sobbing, “Oh God, oh God, oh my God” over and over again, almost like a prayer to the heavens for Hannibal.
Not for a second during his orgasm did Hannibal stop his relentless expert milking of Will’s cock using his throat. Only when Will was sobbing with sensitivity did he pull off of Will’s cock with a lewd pop.
It was a few minutes later when Will found the wherewithal to speak. “Where did you learn to do that?” His voice came out hoarse, as if he was the one with Hannibal’s cock in his mouth.
“Having a taste for the indulgent has its own perks,” Hannibal answered vaguely, giving Will a wink that caused pink to flare up in his cheeks.
It was another long second before Will spoke again. “Do you expect me to do you now?”
Hannibal shook his head, despite the fact that his trousers were clearly too tight for him. “This dinner was about you, Will. I would sooner leave you alone in this state than take pleasure from you. But if you will allow me the privilege of satisfying myself in front of you…”
Hannibal didn’t even have to ask Will before he was nodding desperately. Even if Hannibal wouldn’t allow Will to offer himself to him, he wanted to at least know his lover was satisfied.
Before Will could process what was happening, Hannibal was sliding his pants down his hips along with what looked like a very fine pair of silk boxers, wrapping a hand around his thick cock and stroking himself with long strokes, almost indulgently. A throaty groan left his plush lips as he tilted his head back, hair falling backward and eyes slipping shut. With the other hand, he was running a hand through his locks, sweaty from his earlier indulgence of Will. All Will could do was watch as his lover pleased himself.
Then Hannibal started talking.
“Fuck, Will.”
It was innocuous at first, just little gasps of Will’s names that, admittedly, made his heart skip a few beats.
But then it escalated.
“Fuck, Will, you’re so tight. So tight and warm.”
Will shivered, but sat up a little against the back of Hannibal’s bed, wrapping a hand around his cock, still sensitive with his orgasm and slick with Hannibal's spit. Unconsciously, he found himself matching Hannibal’s slow, deep rhythm, arching his back and letting out an unabashed moan. It was different from the rough way he usually handled himself, hot and fast; it felt intimate and the pleasure that wracked his body was intense.
He lost himself in his thoughts for a short while before he realized Hannibal was still talking.
“God, Will. So tight and warm. I wish this was you, so tight around me. I wish this was your body pulling me in. I would do anything to feel you around me.” Will shivered harder, tightening his grip on his cock and feeling the pleasure course through his veins. He wanted nothing more than to rip an orgasm from his body, to just stroke himself to completion, but he couldn’t find the wherewithal. He was so enchanted by Hannibal, so thoroughly entranced by the way he stroked himself that he felt as if there was no other way for him to experience this other than moving at the same pace.
“Hannibal,” he croaked, need pulsing through him. “Please.”
“Will,” Hannibal whispered back before his face was twisting, and he was coming, and Will was too, toes curling and back arching as he let out a moan. His orgasm lasted a much shorter time than Hannibal’s; when he was panting and stretching out, Hannibal was still letting out groans and swearing in what sounded like Lithuanian to Will’s untrained ears, eyes closed, cock spurting long strings of pearly white come. Eventually, Will saw Hannibal’s body relaxing as his climax ended. Will gasped for breath in deep pants, head thrown back and eyes closed. He was vaguely aware of Hannibal climbing up to meet him, laying his head on his shoulder and kissing his cheek, whispering something in Lithuanian to him that Will could not have deciphered even if he wasn't half asleep.
Then Will was dozing off, slipping into a deep, exhausted, dreamless sleep.
