Beautiful Things
The sound of the door clicking open behind him made his heart flutter as he turned around to face the man in the dark blue checkered suit standing just beyond the newly revealed threshold.
"Will. Please come in."
Will Graham swallowed the lump in his throat and walked through the door, moving past Dr. Hannibal Lecter as he slightly moved aside to let him through before closing the door to his office.
Will watched as the psychiatrist moved to take a seat in one of the two soft leather chairs at the center on the room. With a soft sigh, Hannibal lowered himself into the chair and crossed his legs, looking to Will to do the same.
"Please," he said with a gesture of his hand. "Have a seat."
"No, no, that's okay," Will stammered, embarrassed at how frail his voice sounded. "That's fine, I'm not staying long."
Hannibal's brows furrowed slightly as his head tilted to the side.
"You are scheduled for an hour, Will," he said. "It is your time; you may take as little of it as you'd like."
Will still stood close to the door as if he intended to keep it at arm's length.
"However," Hannibal continued. "I would kindly ask that you take a seat so that we may begin properly."
Will's eyes fell to the floor as he stroked his denim-clad thighs with nervous energy before finally making his way across the room and taking a seat across from Hannibal. He tried to focus on slowing his breathing - as if the doctor would then forget his fidgety behavior up until this point. With a sharp intake of breath Will leaned in, his elbows resting on his knees.
"I, uh . . . I'm sorry, I just wanted to tell you that I won't be coming back here."
Lecter blinked.
"May I ask why?"
"It's just . . . this isn't working."
"That is not an answer, Will."
"Look, I don't know I just, I wanted to tell you and I didn't want do it over the phone."
"And why is that?"
Will shrugged gently.
"It seemed rude."
Hannibal's lips curved up in a small smile.
"That is considerate of you," he said. "But it doesn't answer my question. Are you displeased with the quality or outcome of our sessions together?"
Will shook his head.
"No, no that's not it," he explained. "I just . . . this isn't working."
Exhaling through his nose, Hannibal leaned back a little into his chair, his hands coming together - clasped - on top of his legs.
"Will."
Will clutched his knees in his hands.
"I'm distracted. I've just found myself getting distracted and it's not working anymore."
"What is it that is distracting you, Will? What is happening in your life to cause this lack of clarity? Has Jack Crawford assigned you to a new case?"
"No," Will said, standing to his feet. "No, that's not it. Look, I'm sorry. I just can't."
"The point of our time together Will is for me to help you," Hannibal said, his eyes looking up to meet Will's. "To help you know and understand yourself. If you cannot tell me what is happening and what you are experiencing, how can I accomplish this?"
Looking down to where Hannibal sat, Will found himself transfixed at his hands joined on his legs. His heart was pounding against his chest.
"You seem embarrassed, Will," Lecter said gently. "Please. Tell me what has happened."
Will's eyes glazed over - a mix of frustration, anger and confusion. He swallowed heavily again and sat back down in the chair across from the man with the crossed legs and calm face. This time, as he settled into the leather he leaned back but kept his hands on his thighs. He imagined the sweat on his palms leaving moist imprints of his hands on his jeans.
"Tell me, Will."
Will closed his eyes for a moment, laughing a little under this breath.
"I'm distracted."
"Yes. You have said that. You have failed to state the reason."
"It's you. I'm distracted by you."
The words felt like stones pouring out of his mouth; heavy and impossible to put back.
"And what is it about me that has you distracted, Will?"
Will nervously laughed again, clenching his jaw. Across from him, Lecter's hands were still resting on his lap; the small bones of his fingers and wrists seeming artful somehow. His brown eyes dark and soft.
"You're going to make me say this, aren't you?"
"I must insist."
Will was quite certain that the sweat of his hands had throughly saturated his jeans and had moved to soak his skin underneath. He felt his face flush a deep red.
"It's you," he said. "I'm finding myself . . . attracted to you."
Across from him, Lecter didn't move, didn't react.
"I don't know," Will said running a slick hand through his hair. "I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about. I don't know what's going on . . . but there it is. I can't come back here anymore because I am distracted by you."
"And this embarrasses you, Will?" Hannibal asked. "Why?"
Will laughed again.
"I don't know," he began. "I'm not gay for staters."
"So your attraction to me is a disruption of your view of yourself?" Lecter asked. "You view yourself as one thing, I have challenged that, and this embarrasses you? You are ashamed to be attracted to another man?"
"No, I mean, yes, but no," Will struggled to answer. "I'm not ashamed. It's . . . there's nothing wrong with it it's just . . . it's not who I am."
Lecter tilted his head slightly.
"But it is," he said. "You are having these thoughts; they are a part of you."
"I just . . . I've never felt this way before. Ever," Will said. "I don't understand why this is happening now. I don't understand what it is about you that's making me feel this way. I just . . . I don't understand."
"And rather than face it, you would rather leave and never return?" Hannibal questioned. "Why not talk about it - talk about why this is happening."
"Because it's weird and awkward and I wouldn't even know where to begin."
"Sexuality is not black and white, Will. It exists on a spectrum. We are eager to place labels on things - heterosexual, homosexual, male, female - it brings us comfort. Human beings are naturally comforted by what they understand, by what they can label. Not being able to identify something - not being able to label it - makes us uneasy; it frightens us."
Will frowned slightly and moved to rub his eyes.
"You not being able to understand your feelings towards me would therefore naturally be frightening," Lecter continued. "but it is not something to be alarmed of."
"Easy for you to say," Will whispered.
"Why do you say that?"
Will found himself wishing Lecter would uncross his legs. With every moment that passed he found himself wanting to slide forward on his knees in front him and move his legs apart so that his own body could come to rest between them. His arms coming to curl around a thigh, his cheek resting on the muscle there.
He imagined that it would be very warm.
"Have you ever been attracted to something - someone - a type of person you've never been attracted to before?"
"In a sexual sense?"
"In any sense."
"As a said, Will, sexuality - attraction - lies on a scale. I am and always have been a slider on that scale, moving from one end to the other and stopping when I find something beautiful. I am attracted to beauty, Will - to beautiful things."
Will paused briefly to consider his next words.
"So you've been attracted to men and women?"
"I do not see it that way, no," he explained. "In my life I've found myself drawn to tall and short, thin and full, wide and narrow. Beauty, Will - that's all. A collection of parts."
Will drew back and for the first time since he sat down, his hands left his legs and came to rest on the leather sides of the chair.
"That doesn't change this situation," Will said, half heartedly motioning to himself and then to Lecter.
Hannibal's eyes lowered slightly.
"So you still wish to discontinue our sessions rather than explore what it is that brought these feelings to the surface? You do not wish to find out what it is about me that excites you? What it is that draws you to me?"
Will felt something in his loins twitch.
"I don't think it's a good idea."
"Why," Lecter asked. "Do you not trust yourself? Do you worry that you'll say something or perform some action which will be your utter undoing?"
Hannibal's face and body remained entirely still - controlled - and Will felt like the moth flying toward the flame as he continued his study of Lecter. Now it wasn't just his legs and hands; it was the small pout of his lips, glistening slightly. The sharpness of his high cheekbones and the streaks of silver in his hair. The broad width of his shoulders; Will felt his fingers twitching, wanting to feel the muscle under the fine cloth of his dress shirt.
"I don't know," Will sighed, exasperated. "I just know that right here, right now? I can't do this."
With that, Will stood to his feet - once again wiping the sweat from his palms onto his legs as made his way to the door. His body had never felt more heavy.
"I'm sorry, Dr Lecter," he said as his fingertips reached for the door knob.
Just as he made contact with the smooth brass, Hannibal's arm came up over his shoulder and pushed the palm of his hand against the door, using his weight to keep it closed.
"What the fuck?" Will exclaimed as he turned sharply around.
Lecter's face was inches from his own; his right arm nearly grazing the left side of his face as it held fast its place on the wood of the door. Will felt his breath hitch in his throat.
"What are you doing?"
"Will, there is no need to run from this."
Hannibal's voice was soft and low. Intimate.
"Please open the door."
Hannibal's left hand came up to rest next to Will's right ear, effectively holding him in place between his limbs.
"Hannibal, please," Will repeated, almost too low to hear. "Open the door."
Strands of greying hair fell to the side of Lecter's forehead and, for a moment, Will caught a flash of midnight skin and antlers.
"Do you really want me to open the door?"
Will could feel his bottom lip start to tremble as his vision blurred. His heart was hammering against his chest and his nostrils flared to take in the scent of the man standing so close to him. This man who'd crept into his brain and refused to leave. This man who'd driven him to touch himself more times than he could remember, each time hoping it would be the last.
"No," Will confessed, his voice barely a whisper.
"No what?"
A single tear broke over the wall of Will's lower lid and fell quickly down his cheek.
"No, I don't want you to open the door."
Hannibal continued to study him for a moment before his right hand came to rest on the side of Will's face. His thumb moved over the small wet trail left behind as he leaned in and gently - with all the pressure of a feather - captured Will's bottom lip between his own. He allowed his lips to linger for only a moment before he pulled back.
He waited.
Will eyes had closed at the feel of Lecter's lips brushing his. He opened them, immediately feeling an ache he'd never felt before.
But Hannibal wasn't going to offer himself again.
This time it was Will's mouth that went searching and he sighed softly at the renewed pressure of their lips together. He felt his body take over, his mouth moving against Lecter's in a slow rhythm as the psychiatrist's other hand came off the door and found a home on his opposite cheek, his thumbs rubbing the skin below his eyes. Will's right hand came to rest on Hannibal's left wrist as he opened his mouth wider.
He felt Hannibal's tongue push against his mouth before moving inward to find his own. In a swift and determined movement Will pushed his body away from the wood at his back and towards the masculine frame in front of him only to be shoved back so that he was trapped between the weight of Hannibal's body and the door, his chest barely having room to rise.
Hannibal continued to allow his left wrist to be held as his right hand moved into the thick, dark curls behind Will's ear. The younger man could feel himself growing hard under his mouth and hands. His entire body seemed to catch fire. It was then that felt the doctor's own hardening body pressed against this thigh.
Will gasped softy and pulled away, separating their mouths just barely.
Lecter opened his eyes and brought their foreheads together, dropping both his hands to rest on the sides of Will's neck, his thumbs pushing into his throat.
"I told you, Will," he whispered. "I am attracted to beautiful things. And you are a beautiful thing."
There it was again: jet black skin, towering antlers.
Lecter pressed himself forward again, this time his lips coming to rest on the side of Will's neck as his hands moved down, one coming to rest on his hip and the other slipping under the waistband of his jeans. Will audibly gasped as the long, skilled fingers came to rub his cock, growing larger under the touch. Lecter kissed and sucked on his neck as he fondled him through the thin cloth of his boxers before both his hands moved to unbutton his jeans and pull them down over his hips.
Hannibal pulled back slightly, looking into Will's eyes one last time - searching for any sign of distress or hesitation and finding only lust.
With that he slowly and gracefully fell to his knees, becoming eye level with Will's arousal. He licked his lips in preparation and anticipation before opening his mouth and taking Will into his throat in one smooth, fluid movement.
"Oh, fuck," Will breathed, his head coming to bounce against the door behind him.
He found his hands coming up to cover his face momentarily before clasping at his neck, back into his hair, and then balling his fingers into fists and hitting the wood behind him. Hannibal's tongue licked up and down his shaft as his throat worked to take him deeper, expertly breathing in and out through his nose. Will looked down at the sight below him: Hannibal's lips moving up and down his cock, his sculpted cheeks hollowing as he continued his work.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Will muttered quietly as his fingers unfurled and made their way down to rest on Hannibal's shoulders; those shoulders that he'd been longing to feel. He massaged them hard as he found himself getting closer and closer to a crescendo.
The rhythm on his cock intensified, punctuated with wet sounds of lips and flesh.
"Fuck, stop," Will mumbled. "I'm going to, it's too much. I'm going to - "
He moved to push Lecter away, feeling a sort of shame at the thought of spilling into his mouth. Somehow in spite of everything that was happening, it felt disrespectful. He weakly pushed against those muscled shoulders only to have two strong hands come up and capture his wrists, pushing them away hard as Hannibal's mouth continued its work.
It wasn't but a moment later that Will felt his entire body go rigid, a cry escaping his lips as the most intense orgasm he'd ever felt rushed from his cock down to his toes and back up his spine. He felt himself curl in slightly as Hannibal continued to lap at him from the inside, swallowing everything Will had to offer.
They remained like that for a few moments. Will leaned back against the door, breathing like a rabbit who'd just escaped the teeth of a fox, as he struggled to keep himself upright. Hannibal slowly pulled himself away and let Will's cock fall from his mouth. Reaching into his inside coat pocket, he produced a handkerchief and gently wrapped it around Will's still rigid length - wiping away saliva and semen - before tucking him back inside his boxers. As he pulled the jeans back up over Will's hips, he came to stand up.
Will watched mesmerized as Hannibal dabbed the side of his mouth with that same handkerchief before placing it back inside the inner pocket of his jacket.
The younger man exhaled languidly as he continued to stare at Hannibal. Lowering his eyelids, Lecter leaned in and took Will's mouth again. Will could taste himself on his lips.
"I'll see you next week," Hannibal said.