Hey there Hannibal fandom!
Okay so I had a dream about Mads and myself in a similar situation as the beginning of this fic this morning and a freaking bird woke me up so I was literally forced to write this out of myself before I go mad. Keep in mind, it was written at about 6:30am (gaddamn birds) before I had even a drop of coffee.
This is my first Hannigram fic, probably the last as well. I found out that I enjoy writing about cannibalistic murderer husbands too much and it's slightly unnerving.
The title, Forêt Noire is French, means Black Forest, which is, as you probably know, is officially chocolate layer cake which is soaked in Kirsch liqueur, with cherry filling. I imagine Hannibal would make it more fancier and less cake-y. I chose this dessert because I clearly remember the taste of the cherry cream from my dream. Gods Mads was so hot. I'm gonna kill that damn bird...
Sexy. Lil. Emo helped with editing, thank you darling! I could eat you up! ;D All remaining mistakes are mine!
Forêt Noire
They are not talking. Pleasant smiles are exchanged over the table, as Hannibal finishes the last remnants of his dessert. Will had finished already minutes ago. Since then, he's been watching Lecter's tender, slow moves. How his dessert fork cut into the soft cherry flavored cream and slices through the chocolate paste before it rises up to the man's lips, Will watches it, every move with intense glances.
The aggravation in the air could be, Will is at least sure, touchable should he reach out. But he doesn't, instead, he leans on his elbows which are on the table. He knows it is probably impolite, but he doesn't care anymore. So many manners and customs have lost their meaning since he met Hannibal Lecter.
He enfolds his fingers and watches the man as he all but licks the dessert from the fork. He can see the tip of the doctor's pink tongue, his lips probably not even touching the silverware. Will rubs his thumb firmly into the soft pad of his palm as he takes a deep breath. Hannibal hears him and his unfathomable eyes dart to him immediately. As he swallows and his Adam's apple bobs visibly, he offers another polite smile to Will.
Will responds equally, his eyes still strictly following every action the man takes. He simply cannot look away. As their eyes met, Will suddenly felt like the world around them had shifted. He finds himself on one side of a river, while Lecter stands proudly on the other. They watch each other over the streaming water, both leaning down slowly to take a lifesaving gulp. Their intense gaze is attentive, with their muscles tensing and prickling under their skin. Hannibal's antlers, like his glances in reality, interrupt the seemingly undisturbed surface and Will feels like running away from the river, from the table, from Hannibal Lecter. He instinctively knows danger, why isn't he moving now? Did he discard this instinct as well?
A drop of the red sauce falls down, Lecter doesn't notices but Will does. It's like blood. Thick and red. He needs to inhale deeply again he's too close to jumping up from the table.
Hannibal puts down his fork neatly at three o'clock on his plate, which is all but licked clean. He dabs his napkin over the corner of his lips, as if there could be any remnants of their dinner there. He has such an eerie, graceful presence it unnerves Will. Hannibal's tongue drifts over his lower lip as he looks at Will.
Suddenly Will can taste cherry on his own tongue.
"This… Forêt Noire is… uhm… very good," is all he can say and even then he barely manages as he gulps, probably loudly and visibly. His heart hammered in his chest, his whole body is shaking.
"Indeed it is." Hannibal agrees with a slight nod of his head and another unsettling smile which sends a wild shiver down Will's back.
The last of his boundaries fall apart like soft, warm pastry when cut with a blunt knife. "Would you like some more?"
Hannibal's answer is a guttural moan of, "Yes," and they both jump up from the table. Hannibal walks with steady steps, he doesn't look at Will, either he doesn't want to or he doesn't trust himself enough to. Will certainly believes in the last as he reaches out and clasps his shaking fingers around the man's wrist.
The sheer power in Hannibal's arm as he pulls him towards the kitchen is enough to make Will hard. He loves it, he wants to feel it used on his own body.
They reach the kitchen and that's as far as they are going to get. Hannibal slithers out of his touch and loosens his tie with three fingers, while he taps his left hand two times on the counter as he finally stops. The gesture somehow sends an eager twist right to Will's groin and he hops up there as directed.
Hannibal, much like Will, is unable to wait even a second more, he pushes Will's thighs apart, not just with strong hands but with his hips as well. Will loves how he needs to stretch his legs wider than is comfortable to press closer to the other's body and when they finally touch he groans fervently.
Then he feels lips on his, tasting like cherry, sour and sweet at the same time and he licks, sucks and kisses whatever flesh comes into contact with his mouth. Strong hands are on the lower side of his back, he can feel them. Fingertips are dashing into his skin, he loves them. He loves everything about this. The raw kisses, the teeth, the touch, the taste of cherry and the smell of expensive cologne. He loves it all and he craves more.
He's pushing down Hannibal's heavy suit coat, who lets him, surprisingly, and the pricey piece of clothing lands on the clean kitchen floor. While drawing his fingers into the soft mane, he claws into the broad shoulders and grasps into it not for stability but because he loves how Hannibal's shoulders tense under his touch, because he loves feeling the stiff muscles move as the strong arms stroke his back, rubbing and kneading his skin as if it were the pastry they had just consumed.
Their raw desire changes nothing when Hannibal's lips find his neck. At first the man just kisses and sucks on his skin but then suddenly he bites down and Will almost comes that second. He presses down the doctor's head more determinedly and the strength of the bite increases. He whimpers helplessly then thrust his erection against the nice vest covered stomach.
The guttural moan this time doesn't come from him. Lecter's palms slide to his sides, tugging at his shirt. Will lets out a frustrated grunt, he doesn't want to wait. Lecter understands it. There is the sudden sound of ripping fabric and the shirt falls off from his shoulders, Lecter finally touches naked skin.
Will couldn't be happier.
He could, he realizes when Hannibal leaves his throat and shoulder and his wet lips enclose a nipple. Utter delight washes over Will as the sensitive nub is grinded between sharp teeth and he moans loudly.
When Hannibal's hand rubs against his erection the first time he almost comes again. Just almost, because Hannibal seems to know how close he is already and he bites down on Will's nipple just too hard. Will lets out a painful cry, but in the middle the pain changes into enthusiasm.
The hand on his cock moves, slithers, rubbing down, while fingers are working on his pants, unbuttoning, unbuckling, or unzipping Will doesn't care, can't care, he doesn't have the mind for it at the moment.
He notices though the forceful jerk, when Hannibal tries to get him out of his pants, trousers and boxers both at the same time. Will keens and lifts himself, realizing too late that the clothes are already at his knees, sliding more and more down. He toes his shoes and socks off and he's almost proud of himself when he opens his eyes and catches a glimpse of the feral hunger in Hannibal's eyes. His own animalistic moan comes as a surprise, as the last time he saw a similar expression on the man, he was eyeing his dinner. And Will knows exactly what kind of dinner that was. And even that expression didn't come close to the one that is now on the handsome face.
Will leans back and raises a leg over Hannibal's shoulder, and knows in the back of his head that he must look ridiculous because he's naked on a fucking kitchen counter and he's not at all smooth like Alana, not at all womanly. But Will doesn't want to think anymore, he wants something else and he wants it now. He tugs Hannibal closers, who comes eagerly and when Lecter looks at him, he realizes ridiculous is not what's on the other man's mind. It's lust, desire and need.
Hannibal licks his upper lip, such a simple action yet it starts a ferocious moan in the depth of Will's throat. Lecter doesn't need more, he grabs the side of Will's legs as he bends his own knees.
"Hold on," is the only thing he says to Will as a warning and he barely has time to grasp the edge of the counter before Hannibal seizes his leg in an almost death grip and lifts him from the counter while jerking him forward.
Will faintly remembers a pose from his childhood called 'candle'; both legs in the air, his lower body supported by leaning on his elbows, his two hands at his waist. This pose now was similar yet entirely different. His legs were over Hannibal's shoulders, crossed at his ankles on the man's firm back, his heels digging into the firm muscles. He was supporting his body by leaning on his elbows, yes, but he was sure Lecter would hold him if he were to slump from the pleasure, as two strong hands cupped his arse and held him up.
The man's eyes rake his body up and down with yearning and desire etched into them so clearly it sends Will's cock twitching. Hannibal watches his reacting member as people look at a juicy steak. As he observes silently, his grip on Will's body remains unwavering.
Will never liked it when people observed him, but it was always different with Hannibal. Now, he reacts differently as well. Instead of pulling away he pushes closer. He arches his already curved body, pressing his bare, needy cock closer to those damnable lips that whispered such sinful things to Will.
Will all but screams when Hannibal takes his erection in all the way down right away. He knows Lecter is not like this in a usual situation. He's controlled, all the time. How else would he be such a good serial killer?
But this isn't a usual situation, how could it be with Will. He was after all Lecter's design, wasn't he?
The man sucks on his erect member and for god's sake Will can see the outline of the head of his cock poking through the thin skin and suddenly he sees the black, twisted monster with the antlers. He doesn't hate it anymore and he doesn't hate Lecter anymore. He simply can't. The man's right, as always. You can't hate the destructing storm, nor the devastating fire. But you can admire them.
So Will admires Hannibal. He admires the red tinted, sharp cheekbones, the pink, wet lips around his cock, the vivid, observing eyes, the messy hair. The realization dawns on him. He's naked in Hannibal Lecter's kitchen, his clothes are littered on the ground of the meticulously clean room, and he's having the time of his life with a cannibalistic murderer.
Why is he enjoying this, he doesn't know but god help him he does enjoy it. He loves it, every second of this game with the vague suggestions and the lame cannibalistic puns. How is it not obvious to everyone? How was it not obvious to him from the beginning? But that's past now and he's not willing to go down that road, he's too busy enjoying the present.
The noises coming from Hannibal are torturously arousing, while the sight of the man having his erection in his mouth is simply wicked. He almost tips himself over the edge when he thinks about how it would feel if Hannibal would bite now. And the man does, as if reading his mind, he presses down his upper teeth, he doesn't actually bite, Will only feels the steady pressure of the sharp teeth and it sends him moaning wildly.
Hannibal's fingers are fanned out over Will's buttocks and waist as he holds him up in the air and suddenly he starts thrusting Will's hips up and down and all Will can do is to go with it, thrust deeper and faster, while he tries not to come just by the thought of the sheer strength in the man before him.
Hannibal could do anything with him at this second and Will would be powerless. The man is smirking between his thighs, Will can tell this just by looking at the unfathomable eyes and he also knows that they are both thinking about this. He shoves his hips up and his cock slips slightly deeper and the eyes that observe him deepen by several shades.
He smirks now too, because he's powerful as well. He's not just a design anymore, he became equal with Hannibal when he killed the first time and enjoyed it. When he created his own design.
He comes arching his back and all but screaming. Animalistic, wild cries break out from his throat and he doesn't hold back, not now, not with Hannibal. His semen shoots down the man's throat, who tries to swallow it but the attempt is futile; Will watches as it oozes out at the edges of Hannibal's beautiful lips and drips back on his groin. His head lolls back and his eyes close, he's barely able to exist.
Hannibal releases his softening cock and slides him down slowly back onto the counter. Will gathers the last of his strength and tries to sit up so the doctor won't need to hold him anymore and he doesn't even slip down to the ground. He sits up and looks down at his body as if assessing the damage.
There's no damage. There's just Hannibal, still standing between his thighs in his elegant tailor fit suit, which highlights his erection perfectly. Will wants a taste more than anything.
Hannibal clears his throat and Will looks up.
"I apologize." Lecter grunts as he wipes off the semen from both sides of his lips with his thumb. Will wanted to lick it, the finger or the lips, he's not sure. "I lost my manners."
"Happens to all of us." Will offers with a shrug and smile. He had lost more than his manners during the last couple of months. The fact that Hannibal's control snapped during foreplay and he devoured Will like this was actually flattering.
Will shrugs out of his shirt and lets it fall to the ground among the other clothes. He slithers off the counter but as Hannibal refuses to step away he has to press against the man firmly, not that he minds it. His tongue licks at the lips that minutes ago were around his cock. He can taste himself. It goes well with the cherry that still lingers on his tongue.
He can feel a spark of the previous wild desire flare up in his stomach.
"In case you have forgotten, manners dictate to offer a second serving to your guest as well, not just for yourself, Doctor." Will suggests nipping at the man's jaw with his teeth. Hands are shifting on his body, caressing him softly.
"Will," Hannibal sighs but Will hears it is more like a moan. "Would you like some more?"
"Yes, please."
A/N: Please do let me know what you think.
