Beverly came up around left side of the autopsy table to examine a fresh body but had to pause when she saw Will's bandaged cheekbone. The cut across Will's cheekbone was mostly concealed by the bandage but the start and finish of it peeked out of the edges. She turned towards him fully in order to inspect it more thoroughly.
"Geez, what happened to your face?" Beverly asks mirthlessly but with an otherwise concerned tone.
Will blinks out of his reverie, assessing quickly that he wasn't alone anymore. He looks up at Beverly with a puzzled expression as if she had just spoken another language. Beverly makes a silent gesture with her finger that slants downward to mirror the motion of his cut. Will presses his fingertips to his bandage, suddenly remembering that it was there and recalling the events of the previous night...
Will's wrists and ankles had been bound to a chair by rope, stripped bare of all his clothes aside from his underwear and the blindfold secured around the circumference of his head. He reflexively tested his restraints, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get free regardless. Hannibal had made sure he wouldn't be getting free any time soon.
The ropes themselves were tied around Will in such a way that they were fastened to the legs of the chair, outstretching his arms to pull his muscles taut beneath flushed skin. There were no armrests to steady Will. His body was already straining with the tension since Hannibal had chose to give him no slack. Will preferred it this way anyhow. If he wanted Hannibal to tie him up, they might as well do it the proper way.
He can hear the subtle click of Hannibal's heels as his dress shoes tread across the room. As the undulating noise nears closer Will instinctively follows it by turning his head towards it, training his ears to proximate where Hannibal might be. Each step makes him swallow which, in turn, makes Will's adam's apple bob as a result.
It was so elusive, being bound to a chair and kept in darkness as Hannibal circles meticulously around him in manner that is synonymous to that of a predator. It makes Will tremble with guilty pleasure. The foot falls eventually stop and all that's left is the sound of Will's labored breathing, anticipating what happens next.
"What is your safeword?" Hannibal finally says from behind him, making his presence more ominous than the echoes of foot steps.
"It's uh, acquiesce," Will replies nervously, mouth going dry. "My safeword is acquiesce."
"Good," Hannibal says and there's a slight lift of approval in his tone. "Familiarize yourself with it. I trust you to use it if things should get too overwhelming for you, otherwise I will not stop. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Will rushes out on a jagged breath.
Will can feel his body producing a thin sheen of perspiration as he waits intently for Hannibal to set his game in motion. And it is his game. They've done this plenty of times before but somehow it still manages to provoke all sorts of giddiness from Will, like they still have so much to explore about each other.
Hannibal steps closer to where Will is tied up, brushing the tips of his fingers fleetingly across the width of Will's shoulders. The touch is brief but it's lingering enough to elicit a full body shudder from Will. This reaction seems to please Hannibal because he makes an amused little hum.
His chest is heaving despite himself and Will can practically feel Hannibal's dominating aura shift around him as he walks around to face Will. Will's mouth hangs open slightly, giving him easy access to much needed oxygen as he hears Hannibal come to rest directly in front of him. His heart beats madly in his chest as the seconds tick by aimlessly.
And then he feels it.
Cold, sterile metal trails between the junction of throat and collarbone, causing Will to flinch as Hannibal lightly drags his knife of surgical quality across delicate skin. There isn't enough pressure to actually cut Will, not yet at least, but it's definitely enough to get the younger man's blood pumping. Will instinctively tries to press his body into it to feel the blade mark him, but Hannibal pulls away just far enough.
Will struggles against his bounds, trying to feel the cold sharpness of the blade, even when Hannibal keeps it just out of reach. The younger man whines with frustration as the ropes dig harshly into his wrists and it's surely going to leave marks if he keeps it up long enough.
"Stop fidgeting," Hannibal orders, tone leveled but firm to the point Will complies. "It makes you look more pathetic than you already are."
It humiliates Will to think that Hannibal sees him as pathetic but he figures the older man must get off on that, as surely as Will does. He loves to hear Hannibal say such demeaning things to him, making sure it's clear where they both stand in situations like this. Will needs to be told what a mess he is without Hannibal there to keep him grounded firmly in reality.
"You like struggling, don't you Will?" Hannibal observes more than asks. "To feel the fight slowly drain out of you. Having no control... I could do anything to you right now and you'd take it all just to please me. Wouldn't you?"
"Yesss..." Will draws out in a low hiss, squirming again because he's all hot and bothered by Hannibal's accurate deductions. "I'll be good! Let me be so good for you! Please!"
"Patience," Hannibal chides softly.
Hannibal walks around to stand behind Will once again, pressing in close so he can cup a firm hand around Will's neck. Will straightens up immediately, swallowing behind Hannibal's strong hand as the air is robbed from him. Hannibal holds Will's head up towards the ceiling, stretching his flushed skin even further.
He can see Will's hands twisting against his restraints out of the corner of his eye and smirks to himself. Hannibal brings his other arm around the front of Will's body and poises the knife just below his left collarbone. Will gasps at the initial touch, whimpering as if he's already being cut. It makes Hannibal twitch in his pants but he doesn't dwell on it. This is about Will.
Without warning, or hesitation for that matter, Hannibal presses the sharp edge of the blade down hard enough to pierce Will's skin. His hand is skilled in knowing just how far he can push without there being any permanent damage to Will's rosy skin. Hannibal wouldn't want to scar his beautiful Will in such a way, though Will would probably get off on having his mark on him forever.
Hannibal makes a diagonal slice below Will's left collar bone that runs about three inches in length before stilling his hand. Will makes a short hissing sound, fighting the sting that blooms around the affected area. Hannibal watches over Will's shoulder as the blood from the fresh wound collects and spills over ever so slightly. The blood runs down Will's chest until it comes to an abrupt end, seeming to have run out of momentum.
"Stay still, mon chérie," Hannibal murmurs into Will's ear. He presses a quick kiss just under Will's ear and feels the tense ebb away.
Will can't remember when Hannibal started whispering endearments in French, but that's not to say he minds. If anything, it made Will feel special, privileged even, to think that out of the whole world Hannibal had chosen him as the source of all his affection. If you considered tying Will up and cutting him was affectionate, that is.
"I don't want to cut something vital," Hannibal adds as he proceeds to mark the other side in the same manner.
Will makes a little choked up noise, repressing his instinct to kick and fight the pain when Hannibal squeezes his throat as a reminder. Will becomes compliant when Hannibal constricts his airflow and it makes his adam's apple bob the wrong way with how much pressure Hannibal adds. He makes more feeble noises, short cracking whimpers, because he knows Hannibal loves it.
Hannibal loves to see his sweet, docile Will in such pain and knowing that he's the one who caused it all in the first place. There's a certain thrill Hannibal gets when he watches little beads of red trickle down Will's fair skin, marking it shades from deep red to pink as it thins out more and more. And the sounds...
Oh, yes, the sounds Will produces. Like a symphony of a well orchestrated opera with Hannibal as the conductor or an artist and his knife is the brush, painting his own masterpiece in agile strokes. Either way, Will is beautiful in every sense of the word as his body is marred with the utmost care and precision.
"You make such exquisite noises," Hannibal praises in a husky tone and Will whines in response.
Hannibal leans down, tangling his hand in Will's hair and pulling it harshly to angle his head in such a way that grants him access to the delectable skin of Will's neck. This prompts Will to make a surprised little gasp. Hannibal brushes the tip of his nose along his skin, tickling Will as he inhales the potent scent of uncertainty mingled with arousal and fear. It's a scent that compliments Will in every aspect.
The sharp edge of the blade trails down the center of Will's chest, curving just under his right pectoral muscle before it applies the pressure necessary to cut. Hannibal copies the same cut just below his left pectoral , sucking and biting to preoccupy the pain with pleasure.
Will moans at this particular incision when it's enhanced by the tender bite to his neck that lights up his nerves and makes his senses more vivid. If Will concentrates hard enough he can feel each of the tiny drops of blood as they trek down his abdomen. Will's toes curl against the floor, flexing the ropes around his ankles as he lets the pained and euphoric moans tumble out unabashed.
The next cut Hannibal makes is at the base of Will's ribs on the left side and this incision, no matter how hard Hannibal sucks at his neck, hurts more than the others. Will lurches, arching his body forward, half-sobbing and half-whining, but Hannibal continues his mark until he's satisfied. Will says something unintelligible, something edging on the vowel "A" and Hannibal lets up slightly as he recalls Will's safe word. He hadn't meant to start to say his safe word, but it was mostly out of unconscious reflex.
"What was that Will?" Hannibal inquires softly, pressing damp lips to his earlobe. "Are you giving up after coming so far? I can't begin to tell you how disappointed this makes me..."
"No! I want to make you happy," Will pleads frantically into the darkness of his blindfold, fearing he's upset Hannibal. "I can take it! Please?"
Will looks so tightly wound and bloody and Hannibal can see how badly Will's erection strains within the confines of his underwear. Hannibal smirks at Will's penchant for being so eager to please him and tilts his head towards him. He poises the blade adjacent to Will's other cut and kisses him deeply, making all of Will's fears melt away.
"Don't worry," Hannibal whispers into Will's parted lips, tasting the heated pants that escape him. "I will be so swift and gentle that you won't feel it at all."
Hannibal captures Will's lips in another passionate kiss, pulling his hair on the right side of pain and pleasure. Will's stomach muscles contract and then loosen as Hannibal parts his lips to invade Will's yielding mouth. Will sighs into it the contact, relaxing his tense muscles and then all of a sudden Hannibal's presence is gone.
"You did well, mon bien-aimé..."
Will furrows his eyebrows underneath the blindfold, trying to make sense as to what Hannibal might mean by that and then he feels it. A faint trickle of blood tickles his skin and Will concurs that Hannibal must have cut him while busying him with a kiss. It hadn't even hurt until now as the realization set in finally and made the split skin ache incessantly.
Will flinches when Hannibal traces a finger through his blood to spread it around, painting his body in a grotesque display of intimacy. Hannibal outlines Will's blood in varying abstract patterns across his abdomen and chest. A gasp coats Will's lips every time Hannibal's finger rubs over one of his open wounds and it draws a satisfied smile across the doctor's face. If only Will could see himself right now. If he could see how much Hannibal gets off on this.
Every once in a while Hannibal brings his hand up to Will's mouth, beckoning him to open to suck his own blood off of Hannibal's finger. Will moans wantonly and swirls his tongue around it, relishing in the coppery aftertaste it leaves behind as his cock throbs between his legs. Hannibal moves his blood coated finger in and out of Will's mouth, replicating the motion of thrusting as Will works diligently to suck off all the blood.
"You've been quite exceptional, Will. I'm very impressed," Hannibal praises, pulling his finger from Will's mouth with a hollow pop. "I do believe you deserve a reward for your efforts. Wouldn't you agree?"
Will doesn't respond because he's too busy licking the remnants of blood off his lips, but he figures it was a rhetorical question anyway. Hannibal takes his knife and proceeds to cut off the ropes binding Will's ankles. Once they're free Will's body seems to relax a little more when Hannibal kneads the irritated skin tenderly in his gentle but firm grip.
Hannibal raises one of Will's ankles up to his face and kisses the reddened skin softly, eliciting a short giggle from Will. Of all the pain Hannibal is capable of inflicting on Will, he is also generous with loving gestures as well. Picky about who he shares it with, but generous nonetheless.
"I'm going to take off your blindfold but I will not cut your arms free, and I'll tell you why..." Hannibal loosens the blindfold and tosses it aside for the big reveal. "I want you to enjoy the view but not enough to where you can manipulate it in any way."
Will's eyes blink repetitively as the harsh light blinds him for a moment. When his eyes do adjust he spares a look at his marred and bloodied torso, seeing Hannibal's handiwork for the first time. The cuts themselves are parallel and come in three sets of twos on either side, corresponding in a similar pattern to the antler wounds found on the Minnesota Shrike's victims. Will shivers bodily at the reminder now etched in his flesh until the cuts heal.
Hannibal kneels down at Will's feet, pulling his last shred of clothing off to let his erection free. Hannibal spreads Will's legs apart to expose his aroused flesh even more, making Will squirm under his scrutiny. His cock is flushed bright pink color and it twitches reflexively against his bloodied stomach, begging for contact, and Hannibal is more than happy to oblige.
Will keeps his feet firmly rooted on either side of the chair, giving Hannibal access as the older man reach out to grasp his cock. Hannibal wastes no time in stroking Will slowly, drawing surprised little sounds out of him, as the younger man habitually raises his hips up into the contact for more friction.
"William, I am in control of your pleasure," Hannibal warns with a tsk, squeezing Will's flushed cock on the edge of painful. "Don't make me tie your legs down again."
He wants to protest and beg for a little conviction, but instead Will just whines and accepts his place at the bottom of the food chain. Will holds still obediently and this earns him more of those firm bold strokes from Hannibal. Will curls his lips inward to gnaw on them gently, looking down the length of his body to see what Hannibal does next.
The doctor leans forward, taking Will in his mouth without any teasing or pretense and sucks thoroughly along his heated aroused organ. Will groans in beautiful agony as Hannibal's warm and moist mouth envelopes him completely, making his toes curl and body shudder. Will transfers all his energy into pulling against the ropes around his wrists to avoid thrusting up into Hannibal's throat.
Will looks down at Hannibal going to work on him, eyes stitched shut and face contorted into an angelic tableaux of shyness. How he would love to reach out and tangle a hand in Hannibal's god forsaken well kept hair, only to pull on it and dishevel it into disarray as he fucks his throat. Will burns with the need to inflict pain on Hannibal as well as suffer at the same time.
Will comes faster than he would have hoped for but that doesn't mean it's any less gratifying. Hannibal had wound him up so tightly that he just couldn't hold it in anymore. Will throws his head back and moans towards the ceiling to let the crescendo of Hannibal symphony come crashing to an end. Hannibal doesn't bother to pull off either, opting to collect all of Will's climax in his mouth, but doesn't swallow.
Instead, Hannibal pulls off of Will's spent cock and stands up to tower over Will, grabbing him just under the chin to still his face. Will's mouth falls open obediently when Hannibal squeezes his face lets his older lover bend down to dribble his own release in his mouth, making him taste what a filthy boy he's been.
It slides down the flat of Will's tongue, coating it with thick white, leaving behind the bitter taste of himself mingled with Hannibal's saliva. A thin string of Will's release connects them until Hannibal claims Will's mouth to mix it all around between the both of them. Hannibal pulls away and Will takes this as his cue to swallow, and he does.
"Good boy," Hannibal says with praise and satisfaction in his eyes.
Hannibal steps back a ways to get a better view of his masterpiece, leaving Will a trembling and panting mess in the center of his room all bloody and bound and marked. It was as if Will was being put on display in the middle of an art gallery just for Hannibal with his body painted in red swirls and sweat... The perfect vision of pleasure and suffering mingling together to become one. A true work of art.
Hannibal walks briskly back up to Will and picks up the knife once more but not to cut Will free, not yet at least. He grabs Will underneath the chin again and raises the blade to his face. Hannibal hesitates for a moment, giving Will a chance to use his safe word, but Will never utters a syllable. He leaves one final mark across his cheek, causing Will to hiss with frustration.
It's a mark that Will is going to have for weeks until it eventually heals, but during that time people will know who he belongs to. Will stares up at him with a somewhat hurt and confused look but understands what Hannibal means by this.
"Magnifique..."
"Oh, I, uh..." Will stammers for a second, feeling scrutinized under Beverly's observant gaze. "Winston got loose last night and I had to chase him down... I must have cut myself on a branch or something going through the brush."
"Doesn't look too bad," Beverly comments, seeming to buy Will's excuse.
She gives it one last look before turning her attention back to the lifeless body on the slab. Any moment now, Zeller, Price, and Jack, with Hannibal in tow, will be walking in asking the same curious question. And Will will have to lie to them right in front of Hannibal. He can't begin to imagine what sort of punishment that will bring him but he figures it's inevitable either way.
"Could've been a lot worse," Beverly adds, putting on a pair of fresh gloves.
Will just has to laugh shortly at this.
"Oh... You have no idea..."