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The winter air was frigid, adding to the blush already covering Will’s cheeks. It bit at his skin and snapped him back into reality, out of his enrapturement at the sight before him.
Suddenly and embarrassingly, he became aware of the fact that his pants were far too tight. The cloth pressed against his cock uncomfortably, and he silently thanked the dim lighting that allowed his erection to go unnoticed.
Taking deep breaths and trying to distract his mind did little to calm his arousal; his mind kept returning to Hannibal. Hannibal, with his hand so deep inside the victim’s abdomen, deftly stopping the blood loss and saving a man’s life.
Watching him had felt like a revelation. Of course, Will had known of Hannibal’s past as an emergency room surgeon, but seeing him in action caused Will to feel a new affinity towards his psychiatrist. Both in the way he would expect, in that he is capable of saving lives, and in a way Will did not yet fully understand—the same affinity he felt towards the killers he caught for Jack Crawford. The manipulation of bodies by Hannibal, regardless of intent, felt one in the same to Will, and embarrassingly, it only made his confined cock twitch.
Will’s breath quickened, as did his heart. He glanced around and spotted a store with an “open” sign, breathing an audible, shuddering sigh of gratitude.
He looked back at Hannibal, now talking to Jack Crawford. Even after the doctor removed the glove, blood still stained his hand. It covered nearly up to his elbow. Will felt another jolt of arousal surge through him and made his way into the building, relieved to see a sign for a men’s bathroom in the back.
Thankfully, the bathroom was empty and pleasantly clean enough. Will needed to take care of his needs in private. He locked himself in one of the two stalls and lowered his pants, unable to hold back a sigh when his cock was freed.
He spat on his hand before wrapping it around his cock, the sudden touch and release of pressure making him whimper. He stroked himself vigorously, the sounds of wet skin and heavy breathing soon filling the air.
“Fuck, Hannibal, please,” Will moaned, the realization that he was begging for his psychiatrist hitting him only a moment later, and his free hand flew over his mouth. What he didn’t realize, however, was that his moans had drowned out the noise of the bathroom door opening and closing.
“Yes, Will?” Hannibal’s voice rang through the bathroom. There was a teasing edge to it, albeit hardly perceptible.
Will stopped stroking himself and his stomach lurched. What should he do?
Painfully, he tucked himself back into his pants. His erection had started to go down out of sheer embarrassment, but he still needed release. He flushed the toilet for good measure and exited the stall.
He saw Hannibal bent over the sink, scrubbing blood from his skin and leaving red stains on the porcelain. When Hannibal looked up at him expectantly, Will cocked his head and feigned innocence.
There were only two sinks, so he had no choice but to stand next to Hannibal as he washed his hands. Hannibal leaned slightly closer and inhaled deeply. It was the second time Will had noticed the doctor smelling him—was his aftershave really that bad? He squirmed away, blushing harder than he already was.
Will finished washing and drying his hands and made his way to the door as quickly as he could, but he wasn’t fast enough to avoid the doctor moving to stand in his way.
“You were asking for me. Do you need something, Will?” Hannibal asked, looking Will up and down. Will shifted uncomfortably and tried to cover his crotch, but realized doing so would be even more embarrassing.
“I-I want. I need to—” Will started. He was desperate, and he nearly confessed what he actually needed.
Hannibal hesitated before speaking, holding eye contact. “If you let me finish washing my hands, I can help you.”
Will stepped closer to the door but didn’t open it. Hannibal resumed washing his hands. The water rushing off of his skin into the sink had run clear.
“I’m almost finished. You don’t need to leave, unless of course you want to leave unsatisfied,” Hannibal spoke, turning off the faucets and drying his hands. “I imagine Jack will be occupied for quite some time.”
Will stayed put out of sheer curiosity. What is it, exactly, that Hannibal wanted to help him with? He turned away from the door and faced Hannibal, following when Hannibal gestured him to come closer.
With trembling legs, Will found himself facing Hannibal directly, unable to avoid his gaze.
“I heard you in here and felt you might appreciate some help. May I?” Hannibal spoke clinically, laying a finger on Will’s belt.
Will’s eyes were dilated, and his breaths came quickly. He nodded quickly and with enthusiasm. Hannibal didn’t hesitate and unbuckled his belt, lowering his pants and boxer briefs.
Will’s cock spung free, already hard again, embarrassingly slapping against his lower abdomen. “Fuck,” he breathed.
Hannibal nodded knowingly. His eyes were dilated. “You don’t ever need to hide from me.”
Hannibal gripped Will’s hips and turned him around—Will was now facing the mirror with his hands holding onto the sides of the sink. He sank to his knees as he lowered Will’s clothes to his ankles.
Will felt utterly exposed, even more so when he felt Hannibal’s hands spreading his ass open and his tongue on his hole. Fuck, he was so aroused, a bead of precum threatening to drip from his cock.
“Ohh, fuck,” Will moaned, his eyes rolling back as he felt Hannibal’s tongue starting to press into his hole. He gripped the sink with white knuckles. Hannibal’s hands caressed his thighs in a gentle yet possessive manner.
Will’s gaze dropped down, watching the way his hips started to gyrate against Hannibal’s laving tongue. The doctor’s breath was warm on his sensitive skin, and Will felt more spit applied to his hole. He involuntarily arched his back, giving Hannibal better access.
“Ah—” Will gasped, craning his neck to watch Hannibal working. He couldn’t see it, but he felt Hannibal pressing one slick finger into his hole. The same finger that had felt inside a man’s bleeding flesh just minutes ago. It slid in easily, making Will blush with desperate embarrassment. He looked back at the mirror, down at his cock which was so wet at the slit again, so soon. A bit of precum slowly dripped into the sink. He didn’t dare touch his cock, already feeling laid bare.
Hannibal’s finger worked inside of him, making Will grit his teeth at the strange, intrusive, pleasurable feeling. Will’s hands clenched against the sink.
Another wet finger prodded against his hole, alongside Hannibal’s tongue flicking against the taut flesh. Will screwed his eyes shut, his heart racing. The second finger slid inside him to join the other.
Hannibal circled his fingers in Will’s hole, pushing deeper until he found Will’s prostate. He pressed down, making Will cry out and his hips jerk forward as he was flooded with white-hot pleasure.
“Oh, oh God,” Will sighed a moment later, starting to return to his senses after the shock of pleasure. He felt Hannibal smirking behind him, still licking at his hole. Hannibal’s fingers spread inside of him, stretching him, periodically returning to rub against his prostate and drawing out pleasured whimpers.
“Fuck—I, I need—” Will pleaded.
“Tell me what you need,” Hannibal whispered, the warm air of his breath sending a shiver down Will’s spine. He spat on Will’s hole again, pushing it in with his fingers.
“I need you—” Will moaned. “I need you.”
In the mirror, Will saw the doctor rise to stand behind him. He watched Hannibal unbuckle his belt and lower his pants just enough to free his cock, already hard.
Will arched his back and pushed his ass closer to Hannibal. Close to tears, he looked back at Hannibal with pleading eyes.
Hannibal spat on his hand before spreading his saliva over his cock. He didn’t hesitate to press the head of his cock to Will’s hole.
“Was tonight the first instance where you pleasured yourself to the thought of me?” Hannibal asked steadily.
“Y-yes,” Will whined.
“Why now?” Hannibal asked, not yet pressing in. He ran his hands over Will’s stomach, both upwards to his chest and downwards to his hips. He didn’t touch his cock.
“I don’t—” Will gasped. “I don’t know. Please, please fuck me.”
Hannibal didn’t move. “I think you know why.”
“I saw you s-saving that man’s life.” Will tried to breathe steadily. It was so incredibly difficult. He rubbed his ass against Hannibal’s cock, begging for stimulation. “The control you had over him—his life…”
“Yes,” Hannibal urged, whispering softly into Will’s ear.
“I want that. I want you to control me…I want you to save me…and—and you” Will begged, too aroused to even think straight. Associations flashed through his mind—he had seen Hannibal’s work before. He had felt it, experienced it as if he had Hannibal inside him, rearranging him in a way not too dissimilar to what he was doing now. But arousal clouded his head, arresting his ability to make the necessary leaps. “I need you to fuck me,” was all he could muster.
Hannibal kissed the side of Will’s neck, eliciting a high-pitched whimper. He slowly pressed his cock in, giving Will a feeling of fullness that made him push his hips backwards for more.
Once Hannibal was fully inside, he began to thrust. Each movement made Will let out a small, shocked gasp.
Will’s legs trembled and his knuckles were turning white from his grip on the sink. His eyes widened at the shocking, almost painful feeling.
“O-oh,” Will moaned when Hannibal hit his prostate. It made his eyes roll back, and as they did, he caught a glimpse in the mirror of the desperate expression on his face. Will blushed.
Hannibal hit it again, and again, over and over until Will was crying out with each thrust. It was so fucking good; he was so close. The doctor held his hips in place, letting Will move just enough to seek more pleasure.
“H-Hannibal, fuck, oh, please, please,” Will moaned, his back arching.
Hannibal left a kiss on the back of Will’s neck and whispered in his ear. “Tell me what you’re begging for.”
“Oh God, fuck, I’m close. I need to come, please, I need to come,” Will pleaded, his voice rising in pitch. He shivered at the next kiss Hannibal left on his neck, this time on the sensitive skin behind his ear.
Will cried out the moment he felt Hannibal take hold of his cock. The doctor’s hand slid easily over his skin, slick with how much precum was leaking from his slit.
“Good boy,” Hannibal praised. Will could only hum in response. Every nerve in his body was alight with sensation. Each touch sent pleasure coursing through him.
Hannibal’s thrusts had taken on a quicker, sloppier pace, relentlessly abusing Will’s prostate. A litany of oh’s and ah’s fell from Will’s lips, his breath clouding the mirror in front of him. He avoided looking into it, but sometimes he would catch a glimpse of himself—his parted lips, his half-lidded eyes, and the flushed redness of his cheeks. His hair fell into his eyes from the force of Hannibal’s vigorous movements.
Will’s hips jumped forward with each stroke of Hannibal’s hand on his cock. He let out a desperate sigh when Hannibal tightened his hold on his hip. Fuck, he was so close.
“Hannibal—fffuck,” Will moaned, his eyes rolling back. He came, jets of cum covering Hannibal’s hand, the rest landing in the sink and on the mirror. His body contracted and shuddered with the strength of his orgasm, hole clenching around Hannibal’s cock. The doctor came after him with a groan, his hold on Will’s hip becoming painful.
All Will could muster were small, broken gasps and heavy breaths. He trembled, leaning on the sink and supported by Hannibal.
Through his teary eyes he could see enough of the mirror to know he had ejaculated on it. His post-orgasmic haze and euphoria dulled his feelings of shame and anxiety, but he apologized anyway. “I-I’m sorry,” he mumbled, hardly able to form the words. “Made a mess…”
“Don’t apologize,” Hannibal corrected, pressing his nose into Will’s hair and inhaling deeply. Smelling him again. “I’ll clean it.”
In any other case, he would have felt humiliated and argued to clean it himself, but Will’s brain felt scrambled in the best of ways. He let out a quiet whine when he felt the doctor pull out of him, immediately craving the feeling of fullness. Faintly, he wished he and Hannibal were anywhere but a bathroom, any time but now. Somewhere they could hold each other longer. Will needed it.
As if the thought had brought his wishes into existence, Hannibal spoke.
“Come home with me,” he purred softly into Will’s ear. It sent a pleasured shiver down his spine. “You are welcome to use my shower. The drive is much shorter.”
Will didn’t need to be asked twice. He leaned into Hannibal’s hold, who ran his hand up and down his side. A comforting gesture. Will nodded weakly, turning his head to rest on the doctor’s chest.