Title: Safe Home
Author: ELLE
Pairings/Warnings: Will/Hannibal, mild d/s, mild kink, blindfolding, choking, mild language
Notes: Written for Miss Murdered's and I's "Twelve Days of Christmas" prompt challenge. The prompt was "consumed."
It was easy to be overwhelmed by Hannibal Lecter. His world was lavish and immense and full of possibilities Will had never even dreamed of. And not just his physical world – his artistically rendered office, his immaculate living space, the luxurious silk sheets drawn over a king sized bed – it was his internal world as well. Hannibal was intelligent but secretive, dry and appraising but kind when it suited him. Staring into his eyes was like... staring out into space and knowing there were a million secrets out there you would never know.
And nothing about that turned Will off.
If anything, it was himself that was a turn off. By comparison he was... clumsy, childish. Will felt completely consumed by him, like a moth trapped by the ethereal glow of a light and he fluttered around moronically, just hoping for what – a moment in his presence?
Even he hated himself when he thought about it that way. Will knew he was a smart, caring, sensitive person – a person he liked, once, or at least thought was objectively good. But being with Hannibal made him feel like... he wasn't even sure if he wanted to be good any more.
Hannibal physically possessed him as he kissed him in the dark of his room, leaning down into it, one hand on his back, the fingers of the other on his cheek, and though the touches were light they were firm enough that Will knew he was helpless, that he could never pull away from him. But Will – he didn't even know what to do with his hands. All he could do was stand there and take it, take every moment of Hannibal's lips searing across his own and be grateful for it.
He stepped back, away, leaving Will wanting, lips lingering after him. But Hannibal was like that, he liked control, he liked to see you wanting and Will knew in him that was easy to find. He felt like one of his dogs, big eyes watching, waiting, waiting for the signal to come and he resented it – but not enough to stop.
Hannibal stepped over to the chest of drawers, pulling open the top one as he gave a quiet command.
"Take off your shirt."
Will watched Hannibal's back as he did so, slipping the buttons and throwing it on the bench at the end of the bed. It was insulting that Hannibal wouldn't even look at him and he felt that insult deeply, but when he removed his pants as requested he was already hard.
He turned as Will stood there, naked, a defiant grit in his teeth, letting Hannibal observe him. His cool eyes studied his body dispassionately as he unbutton his own shirt, appraising but not interested – though Will knew that was a lie. Hannibal was many things, most of all a faker – he was far more enraptured by what he found beautiful than he would ever let on. And being the subject of that study and not found lacking? Well...
Hannibal's fingers ran across his skin – the small of his back, up his ribs, across his chest, just barely skirting a nipple and Will tried not to flinch. His long lips quirked up at the edge but Will stubbornly refused to bend, which he knew just amused Hannibal more.
He pulled out a silk blindfold, silently asking permission, which Will granted, and Hannibal tied it over his eyes and kissed him again, slowly, savoring it. Will felt every second of the power bias – nude, blinded – but they both knew he liked it. When Hannibal stepped away again Will could hear him remove his belt, feel him take his hand and lead him over to the bed.
"Straddle me," Hannibal murmured in his ear, moving away and Will climbed across the bed to find him.
Will could hear Hannibal's soft chuckle as he put his knees on either side of his legs, shimmied up to his hips. He could feel Hannibal's hands on his thighs, edging him forward just slightly, positioning him. His hands lay limp at his sides, waiting for direction as Hannibal's fingers caressed his legs and chest with feather-light touches.
"Beautiful."
His voice was a thick, appreciative purr that made Will shiver.
Hannibal handed him a bottle and commanded that he prep himself and Will slipped it onto his fingers blind, reaching behind himself and arching his chest forward. The sound of Hannibal's heavy breathing made him grin a little, loving the amount of control he had over him despite the inequity in their positions.
Slowly he slid up and down on his own fingers, feeling Hannibal's fingers tighten on his thighs until Will knew he couldn't push him any further and he slid slick fingers up his pants to his crotch. Hannibal had unzipped his pants for him, making it easier, and Will gripped his cock hard just to hear him hiss.
Will fucked him with slow, determined movements, drawing out his breath each time he slid up from his dick. He planted his hand on his throat, palm at the base of his neck, and Will could feel him swallow, could feel him sigh, feel him breathing and it was intimate in a way looking into his eyes would never be. At least not for Will. He wasn't really good at... that kind of human interaction.
But Hannibal made this easy for him – made him feel good. Made him feel like he wasn't just the stumbling idiot he appeared to be, inept at everything normal.
"Touch yourself," Hannibal whispered, Will picking up on the strain in his voice, feeling it in his throat, knowing he was getting close as Will wrapped his hand around his own cock.
Hannibal's hands were still on his thighs and he didn't direct, didn't like to interfere with Will's dominance or his display but he couldn't help but push him down as he came, holding him close in his lap as Will got himself off to the feel of Hannibal's dick twitch inside him and his breathless little pants ringing in his ears.
They sat in silence for a moment – Will knew he loved to look him over in that post-orgasm haze, appreciating his sleek body coated in sweat, cum dripping from his dick. But then Hannibal slipped the blindfold and Will folded himself tightly against his body, face pressed into his neck, wishing that maybe there could be a world in which he could be so blinded – because the things he saw...
Hannibal's long fingers stroked at the curls of his hair and he kissed his head and Will knew it was wrong, knew he shouldn't feel like this, knew there was nothing about Hannibal that should be taken at face value but – he felt protected and safe and cherished in a way he hadn't ever felt with other partners... or with other people.
"You are beautiful, Will Graham," Hannibal murmured, lips sending a little shock of electricity through him, making him feel... good. Loved, even – though that was never what this was about.
He stood, pulling back the sheets and tucking Will into them as his face sunk into the soft down pillows that Hannibal preferred. Closed his eyes and felt Hannibal's fingers gently stroke down his cheek, felt his eyes watching him. He knew Hannibal needed to shower and he knew he would be back and he knew he didn't need to worry, not here.
"Rest," he commanded quietly and Will knew it didn't mean anything, that Hannibal couldn't take the whole world away – but here, immersed in Hannibal's world – it felt like he was safe.