New! Now edited!

Disclaimer: I own neither Simon Tam of Firefly/Serenity fame or Hannibal Lector of the Thomas Harris franchise. I just kinda, played with them.

Warning: This is a bit of slash in an AU fashion. If you don't like it, I suggest you turn away now. Otherwise, enjoy!

The Training of Simon Tam

For all his time in med school, he spent very little time in the morgue. He spent even less time in the one in France. Simon just never really liked working with the dead. That was why he was becoming a doctor, in fact: so there were would be fewer dead to work with. But his mentor had sent him down to get some supplies that were kept down in the morbid depths of the morgue for a class later in the day, and now he was lost.

Simon Tam was a genius, or that was what everyone told him. Top of his class and now on an accelerated track in med school, he was set to finish in record time. All he knew about his knack for medicine was that the human body just spoke to him; it made sense. Thus he was taking some extra time from his studies, against his parents' wishes, and was living in France for a year to shadow one of the foremost trauma surgeons in the world.

Right then, however, he was lost in the morgue of the hospital and entranced by an amazingly detailed pencil drawing of a human hand. It was like looking at flesh, soft and supple. He could almost feel the skin under his fingertips; feel the warmth, the blood moving in the veins. With a drawing so lifelike it felt out of place in the realm of death.

"Qu'est-ce que tu fais?"1 The commanding voice startled him from his thoughts. The one thing that held Simon back in France was his inability to pick up French to any degree. He was utterly hopeless when it came to the language, much to his frustration and the amusement of his peers and teachers.

Spinning around quickly, he stumbled over his words. "I, uh, um… I'm looking for…" He stopped, losing his train of thought as he caught the eye of the man watching him. He was tall and thin, his brown hair swept back. Sparkling blue eyes seemed to be laughing softly at Simon, while a smirk twitched at the corners of his full lips.

A brow arched up in amusement before he said, "Ah, you must be the infamous Simon Tam. Your lack of French has become legend already." The softly accented voice wove around Simon and curled into his belly, sinking into a pool of searing heat.

A blush raced across his cheeks, "Yes, a true legend at that. It seems that no matter what I try, French just doesn't stick in my brain." The man in front of him smiled again and Simon's breath caught. That soft smile teamed with the warmth already swirling around his belly made Simon very aware of the attractive man in front of him, even a certain part of his anatomy was beginning to stir in awareness. His blush deepened as he tried to fight off the growing erection. Simon wasn't sure why this was happening, he had always been attracted to girls, but there was something about the man there in the morgue that gripped at him. It was like he was being woven into a spell of sensually spoken words and devilish smirks.

"Perhaps it is just that you haven't had the proper training?" The words were spoken with a seductive tone that made his cock go from maybe-interested to rock hard in moments, the inflection of training wrapping around him and almost bringing him to his knees. Simon felt his breath leave him in a sudden rush as if he had been punched in the stomach.

"Ah, but I have not yet introduced myself. How remiss of my manners." A knowing grin lit his eyes. "I'm Hannibal Lector."

All Simon could do was emit a high squeak and nod before he was racing for the door. Behind him, he heard deep chuckles follow him out the door that only made his cock harder. The door to the restroom was there beside him and he careened in, desperate and needy. Rushing to a stall, he didn't even close the door before he was unzipping his trousers and pulling his cock free. Simon couldn't remember the last time he'd been that hard. He thought it must have been with the girl who had spanked him once during foreplay when he was still in his undergraduate program. At that thought, an image sprang to mind of him over Hannibal's knee, his pants around his ankles and hands tied behind his back. His knees almost gave out on him as he finally wrapped a hand around his cock and softly squeezed. The picture in his mind evolved, Simon completely naked while Hannibal was fully clothed and perfectly immaculate. The same girl who had spanked him had talked about plugs that some men used that stretched and made one feel deliciously full. Simon's fantasy self was writhing over Hannibal's knees, one such plug filling him up, making needy, helpless moans.

Just as the imagined Hannibal was going to bring a hand down on his upturned ass, Simon felt heat at his back and a hand wrapping around his own, holding his cock. A gasp tore from his throat as the hand over his squeezed tight at that base, staying his orgasm. Another hand pulled his fingers off of his cock and twisted his hand back and up. His other wrist was corralled behind him as well, held tight in the grip of one large hand.

The rumble of the voice hit his senses before the meaning of the words. "You, Monsieur Tam, are not allowed to come until I tell you to. And you will not be told to until you correctly complete your French assignment. If you come before that you will be punished." Simon heard a whimper and realized that it had come from his own throat, high and needy. "Oui, Monsieur Tam?"

"Yes!" he gasped out before flinching as the free hand smacked his flank.

"In French, Monsieur Tam."

"Oui!" he moaned.

The hand wrapped around his cock again and began to firmly stroke him, "Good, Monsieur Tam. Very good. You will learn yet, and you will learn well." A finger reached out and swiped over the drooling head of Simon's cock, and that was all that took. Simon came violently. The hand continued to stroke him until his cock was spent and began to soften. Simon felt the edges of his vision begin to go black at the intensity of the orgasm. "Now you are mine," he heard just before he passed out. All he could mutter was "Oui."

1 Translation: What are you doing?