Okay this is a fic inspired by this crossover of the Richartin couple formed by Francis Dolarhyde and Hector Dixon. A couple of murderer dangerous villains.
The story purports to be sexiest and very intense ;)
I hope you enjoy even a little. By the way the story is interwoven plot between the original Red Dragon by Thomas Harris, the Hannibal series adapted by Bryan Fuller and the film Wild Target.

Warning: Contains graphic violence, sadism and issues that can be a bit sensitive for some people.

Chapter Management

Chapter 1: Alpha / Omega: Dangerous Fate

….

Dixon was in London resting on one of his luxurious penthouses that served as a hideout, located in a prestigious area of London. A few weeks ago that had just acquired that new site trying to confuse his enemies. The afternoon was beginning to fall and he decided to spend some time relaxing watching TV in the most ordinary way, at that point he just wanted to have a little of mundane things, ordinary peace as anyone. The evening began to fall and soon thought his life was falling into monotony. He suddenly felt empty, almost as empty as the cup he held in his hands which had now entirely finished drinking its content. He rose from his place to go to pour another cup with gin and saw through the large window the faintly pink sky by dawn. It began to show some stars that overshadowed the artificial light of the city buildings. He sipped his drink while he continued seeing as the nightlife were accentuated by the brightness of the cars crossing the traffic and then he returned to his living room to sit in his new and comfortable large sofa. The house was greatly flamboyant and decorated with modern minimalist touches, glimmers of long lamps lit the room. Suddenly to see one of the pictures on the wall he thought an idea that certainly seemed ridiculous, maybe he was too lonely and perhaps he needed to have someone at his side with whom to share his life and the complicity of his criminal identity, perhaps what he needed was to feel more passion. Although he did not want to become obsessed with the idea because it kept seem corny, he could get sex from anyone whenever he wanted and wherever he wanted anyway. It had always been so. He could call right then to a house dating or just go to a nightclub and flirt to who called his attention to take to his bed. He could pay for sex tonight or nights that he wanted. Dixon was an addicted of sex, his sexual appetite rarely decreased. His libido was always in peak. The money did not matter, he had too much to waste it if he wished, thanks to his criminal services contract he had enriched with a vast fortune.

It certainly was that Dixon had sustained an affair for months with the spy Peter Guillam, but a few weeks ago that they had decided to sever the relationship. It had been weeks since the last time Dixon had seen Peter after an argument in which both brought out the concerns that had led them to make that decision to separate. And it was much longer than Dixon had not had sex with anyone, despite his relentless hypersexuality, the latter had been Guillam. He had restricted to himself the desire to be with another man just due Guillam, because he loved him and because he had decided to try to change. But Guillam had not come all this time and it seemed he did not want to do it. Dixon had started to be so greatly exasperated, and did not take it anymore, it was as if everything Guillam had managed to make him feel it was slowly going to hell and thus also his determination to maintain his loyalty. His great libido could not longer limited by waiting for someone, not even waiting for Guillam. Since that discussion they had not had any further contact.

Dolarhyde was at the airport in Boston. He was fleeing from FBI after the confrontation with Will Graham which had occurred a few days ago in which he had been forced to say goodbye to Reba in so abruptly and unexpectedly way, the sweet blind woman with whom he had maintained a relationship in recent weeks, the woman who had taught him to love and which had controlled the evil of his psyche. Those were the latest most wonderful weeks of all his life.

After the fire that he had caused after to assassinate Reba's ex-lover to mislead the police, he had managed to escape the track of Graham and the law until the day that he wounded Graham and they found out he was still alive, it was all a trap and it was becoming mostly dangerous than it was from the first moment he decided to choose to become a brutal serial murderer. Now he had to take care of Crawford and the rest of their FBI agents were following all leads. The experts had even found sufficient evidence of his DNA because they had raided his another house under the command of the police.

But even despite all that disadvantage and with the full danger of being discovered and arrested at any time, Dolarhyde seemed not be afraid that the police were hot on his trail. Now he had an advantage that would not stop echoing in his thoughts, an archetypal advantage to which only he could give a meaning and a reason for all logic. Now he had the power of the dragon himself. The Great Red Dragon was inside him, his soul and his had merged into an eminent conjunction.

Sitting in his new living room Dolarhyde recalled that day when after crossing Central Park arrived at the Brooklyn Museum, as planned. That Tuesday afternoon that he had been savvy enough to sneak security guards and trick them to grant them for they allowed him access to the museum on a day that were only allowed entry to researchers and students from university. With a disguise he fooled the police and being in front of the majestic watercolor by William Blake was when he committed his sadistic crime. It was after he finally admired the original watercolor of Blake, the same which had fascinated him so much all along, when he incurred that cruel crime viciously, killing the guides responsible to show him the Great Red Dragon and the woman clothed in Sun. Like a madman who had lost all sanity and the sense of himself he devoured the Red Dragon, until the latter part of the paper had reached his stomach, he was more powerful than the Red Dragon, with that he showed it. He had defeated him and his dark mandates in his mind urging him to kill.

It had always been the fault of the Red Dragon. The nefarious demon of the watercolor and pastel had ordered him to commit all these crimes and Dolarhyde had to find a way to stop it, to cease it, to overcome him. Now the dragon could not return anymore, never could order him anymore. The Great Red Dragon had not been able to overcome his cunning and intelligence, he was superior to the Red Dragon and no longer would take over his mind and his dark impulses, he could at last find control it and not murder again anyone else, he could perhaps live from now a normal life loving someone, loving Reba, forming a home of their own and inhospitable inferior complex that had arisen in him since the tender age of childhood, an inhospitable inferior complex that had arisen from the moment he was born, which had arisen from the moment his parents rejected him, since his mother left him at the orphanage deliberately because of that damn malformation on his face that he was not to blame and since his grandmother had taken him to teach her own 'good manners' in the hypocritical hostility of her retrograde home for after his death he would be adopted by his own biological mother, the same cold woman who had left him to his fate at the orphanage several years ago. Greatly Dolarhyde hated remember all that, anyway it was about a deep past who wanted to make the total oblivion especially now that he had devoured the Great Red Dragon.

No, he could not go back to Reba. He had the Dragon with him. The Dragon, representing pure evil and he had gave him absolute power. If he returned at side of Reba again perhaps might not be fully capable to control his murderer instincts and his bloodlust. Now he and the Red Dragon were one. He could not stop being a fucking murderer.

Dolarhyde felt quite powerful, his transformation into the Red Dragon had culminated in the mere act of devouring it. It certainly was that because it was no longer necessary to kill anyone to become the Red Dragon, he already had done, but that did not stop his excitement thinking about killing someone else, to return to enjoy the supplications and agony of a person dying in his hands cruelly, to see their blood running, to witness their last gasp of horror and despair and the sink his teeth into the victims after raping them and also introducing them sadistically mirrors into the eyes.

But now the dragon was asleep. Dolarhyde came to the airport from Chicago; it was a short but tiring trip. It tired him more due he was fleeing from the law. But he was very good at hiding his face through a good disguise. In addition, he had managed to get misrepresent his identity and transfer all his bank accounts. Now he was in Boston, Dolarhyde looked very handsome and distinguished as usually liked to wear. He wore a black leather jacket, checkered cotton shirt and blue jeans. With his serene and cordial behavior anyone could thought he was a normal person. He paused a moment to think that the greatness of the Red Dragon had come with him to Boston. At that time he thought about how he should continue with his life thus escaping from the justice, beginning a new life, hiding his true identity. His fake IDs now appointed him the name of John Bateman. Also he had to find a new place to live. He had enough money to stay in that place anyway.

From the other side of the world, in Europe, Hector Dixon had awakened from his sleep in the morning, dawning on the big bed in his luxurious room. Beside him also had dawned a burly alpha man. Dixon had hired him to have sex with him overnight. It was something that frequently he requested, before meeting and get involved with Guillam. The man had been certainly very good lover and had given him a wonderful night full of lust, of unbridled sex, of wet sheets. The ray of morning sunshine was entering through the small opening among the long curtains. Dixon got up from his bed and walked still naked towards the drawer without turning to see back. He took from a drawer a checkbook and made a good payment to the male prostitute, while the rentboy finished dressing his pants. After signing the check and smiling maliciously with his impeccable white teeth Dixon said bye to him with the same coldness with which had contacted him the last night. Maybe if his carnal desires demanded it, he would think about re-hiring him another night.

After showering and take his breakfast, Dixon finished enlisting to go to the new call that they had done to him. A senior government official had called him that morning to hire him to kill a trafficker of methamphetamine and cocaine that had threatened to report him on his corrupt acts. In addition, the dealer was also a major public figure who worked in the British government that it was protected by other persons of high rank. But things had tightened and the politician who was willing to hire the services of Dixon was tired of the situation so he decided to cut pit in that dirty way, by a premeditated murder. No doubt it was a settling of accounts, something to which Dixon was already fully used. He will receive a very good pay for the 'work' and probably it will not take too long and would be easy. The powerful man of the government would give all the necessary information to Dixon that he needed to work discreetly and quickly. Dixon was still the second best murderer hired within that mafia, surpassed only by some insignificance by Victor Maynard. Remember that asshole who was still overcoming him infuriated Dixon. But someday he could kill Victor, it was the greater purpose that Dixon was proposing to himself at the time.

Dixon contacted immediately with his followers and his main accomplice Fabian undertook to bring him in a luxury car. Dixon had several luxurious and armored cars, had paid plenty for them but he never dared to drive himself. He could order someone else do it for him, though in truth he was ashamed to say that he just did not want to drive because he was very insecure with himself to do it. Affirming that would be pathetic case of a dangerous and sadist hired murderer like him.

Dixon and Fabian arrived at the building where the powerful corrupt politician had been summoned. With total discretion they arrived at the reception and went up the elevator to a considerably high floor. When they descended from the elevator Dixon knew it was the 10th floor and entered into the large office indicated. When they entered there was a burly man waiting for them wearing an elegant black suit and fine tie sitting in a large reclining sofa lined in black vinyl. The man held a large cup of brandy and then he invited to Dixon to take a seat across from him. Then he ordered to one of his assistants to serve some of the same brandy to Dixon and Fabian and after the politician indicated to Dixon what he wanted and how and where they would do the murder.

After a juicy imminent negotiation and mutual agreement, there was a handshake to seal the deal. Dixon smiled with his languid white smile in a sign of malice.

"that idiot have to be within a coffin at this weekend, understand?" said the politician. Dixon mischievously smiled again and gave a brief sigh.

"you should not doubt it. And I assure you it will be a clean job" said the blond and again outlining his big smile.

Dolarhyde got a good apartment to live from now on this new secret life. With full confidentiality and discretion he was gradually settling down in his new home. Neighbors had saw him and they thought he was a nice man, but inevitably they found it was strange the fact he was too serious and reserved. At that time the face of Dolarhyde was captured in leaflets glued on the walls of police stations but not in local places yet.

Meanwhile in London, Dixon descended from his luxurious armored vehicle accompanied by Fabian and they climbed to the roof of a building of modest apartments. When they were above, pointed their weapons equipped with telescopic sights directed towards their goal who would be presented right in front of them, in a government building that was in front of the building where Dixon and Fabian lurking waiting for his victim. It was not long until the luxury vehicle of the political trafficker stopped in front of the building and the politician descended from the car. Dixon and Fabian had it all figured out, but by an unexpected twist of fate, the politician turned just at the moment when the bullet shot out of the gun, projecting into the wall. The politician was totally unscathed from that and indeed nobody was injured but such an act immediately indicated the possible location of Dixon and Fabian so they decided to flee as soon as possible before the police officer guarding could see them and the catch them.

Dixon cursed the folly of the bullet and cursed as well that the politician was so greatly protected, it was something that the man who had hired him had not informed him. He could not blame Fabian for what happened, it just had been unlucky. But soon they were able to enter their armored car and run away without leaving a clue.

"Are you sure they did not see you?" annoyed asked the man who had assigned them the mission. The man carried a cigar in his mouth.

"we are experts to flee from cops and the law, sir" said Dixon with integrity.

"Well, I'll give you another chance, the type will flee to the United States. The attack that had today of part of you two had created a scandal and the police are investigating it now, but I'm quite sure that long before they finding you, they will discover all the horde of crimes that has the type under his belt, crimes of all kinds, from money laundering and drug trafficking and great and significant frauds within parliament. Before proceeding with the investigation of the attempted attack of today the coward will flee to America and you will follow the track. Here are all the details. My private detective that I hired just gave me all this information and now I give it to you" the frowning man said sourly as he tossed in front of them a big envelope on the desk. Then he give a puff on his cigar.

Dixon smiled and picked up it from the desk. He opened it cautiously and noticed that besides notes and documents inside were some photographs.

Then the mighty man finished to give them further guidance. In a couple of hours Dixon was already flying to the United States on a private jet super luxury which the powerful man had assigned to him. Fabian would not go with him, but instead would accompany him the private detective who would help him to locate the man in question and so Dixon could kill him in the right time.

After several grueling hours of flight, Dixon arrived at the airport in New York to do later stopover towards Boston. The man who he had been sent to murder still would not arrive until several hours later than Dixon so he could be installed properly and prepare everything to do a little visit just when the corrupt politician arrived.

Dixon was sitting in his large hotel suite preparing his favorite weapon with which would perpetrate the murder. It was a beautiful Beretta 92 and Dixon was now subtly wiping it with a cloth. Thinking that was about to come the moment to use it and shooting his victim, it excited him increasingly. Mastering firearms always excited him, thinking about blood and death of their victims excited him even more. After cleaning carefully it he placed the gun silencer.

The private detective would indicate him at what point would arrive the politician inside the hotel, the same hotel where Dixon was staying, in fact only some rooms separated them.

When at last the detective gave the indication, Dixon quietly and discreetly left his suite. It was very late at night, perhaps 2:00 am and for that reason was no one could to see him. Would also have to go through the blind spot of the security cameras, the detective had told him how. Arriving in front of the suite Dixon knocked on the door and when the political man opened with totally coolly Dixon gave him three quick shots at close range, without even giving him time to wonder who the hell had dared to knock on his door at that hour of the night. The miserable man died instantly and no one would notice it until midday the next day when one of the chambermaid were to clean the room.

Dixon closed the door of the suite, leaving the lifeless body lying on the carpeted floor. Dixon then went to his room as normal and told the detective that the work had been completed successfully. The poor vile and corrupt politician could not commit frauds anymore and Dixon will receive the rest of his ostentatious pay on his return to London.

He took a relaxing bath in the tub and then went to bed to get some sleep. He thought it was a shame to have to leave so good suite in early morning.

Dolarhyde had not read newspapers for a long with the same avidity with which he had always done regularly, so he had been missing for quite news in recent weeks since he had been fleeing from justice and more properly from the police had discovered his true face and identity. He longed to know what had caused such a stir the Red Dragon since his confrontation against Graham and if even the news of the slaughter was in a front page news. He was dying of longing to know how much the press had been writing about him, if they had been given all the hype that could have then triggered the fact that he ate the work of William Blake, that he ate the Great Red Dragon and the Woman clothed in Sun. His twisted mind of psychopathic made him have the slightest remorse for the victims who he had killed, in fact just the only important thing to him was the view of the press for having eaten the Red Dragon.

Dolarhyde went to the large main newspaper library the Boston Herald. From the moment he faced the place felt a noticeable excitement squeezing his pants. He climbed the stairs and after presenting his identification (false) he entered the place, very excited. Upon entering the building he was amazed by the large structures of the building, it amazed him the form all that was made and the many shelves full of piles of newspapers, as well he noticed marveled how were had there very old journals digitized form available to everyone. For a moment he was curious to check out the old stuff, of being in a remote past of criminal minds but then he thought it would be best first serve his real purpose, take a look at the most recent dailies, the newspapers that spoke of the crimes perpetuated by the Great Red Dragon.

He requested some copies of the News York Times, the Chicago-Sun Times, The Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, but above all of The Tattler all of them dated for a month before and while he waited for who attended him Dolarhyde suddenly noticed on the desk of the reception it had a diary of that day. It called too much his attention to notice the note on the front page "important British politician was brutally murdered in his suite this morning in Boston" The photo showed part of the scene where the grotesque was discarded and it only showed bare feet, although bloody, of the deceased.

At that time the manager came over to provide backward newspapers that Dolarhyde had requested taking him a bit by surprise while he kept looking over the issue with the news of the day.

"Excuse me, if you don't mind, could I take this daily for a while too?" Dolarhyde asked. The woman smiled at him cordially and nodded.

Dolarhyde took the papers including the new daily and sat at one of the desks assigned to users to read in comfort. Before reviewing the rest of the backward newpapers he decided to start by reading the news of the day what informed about the cruelly murdered British politician. After all any type of murder always excited him greatly, and the more viciously had been perpetuated was better for him. He read the first column that revealed the most relevant data, the politician had been caught in his own luxurious presidential suite and according to the experts it had occurred in the early hours of the morning. There were no witnesses but had stated that they suspected a settling of accounts because they found out cocaine in his possession inside his room and in addition a recent report came from the UK had asked for his capture. But that was a banal thing for Dolarhyde, he enjoyed greatly was learned that violent death was caused by three shots at close range, one of which had shattered his skull reducing it to a crushing and bloody mess scattered all over the floor. If Dolarhyde could see how all the blood and brain matter had splashed the nearest furniture certainly it had reawakened quite dark instincts murderers in him.

Greatly he felt more excited as he read the entire article, for some strange reason that he himself could not understand he felt much admiration for the unknown murderer. There were not clues, told the newspaper article, any witnesses, no suspects and clearly was an isolated incident. He read again and again the story from start to finish and quietly admired the photos that there were showed until after a while he came out of his reverie and began to read the other newspapers that really concerned him.

He went straight to read the Tattler and found out that indeed the press had been talking about him and his fugitive status but of late had minimized some of the information. In a few of the articles he noticed that they had done a psychological profile on him contemplating his deranged behavior originated by his own sexual frustration probably due to his childhood, they had delving into this under any research or maybe just they inferred it but either form it was something that greatly annoyed to Dolarhyde, what the hell could they know? He decided once what had been waiting in a dormant corner of his psyche, the fact that the Red Dragon had to return, he should give them a good lesson, he should show them who was the most powerful, he must show them that now that he and the Red Dragon were one self, his powers were invincible. Even he could to overcome Hannibal Lecter this time.

At that moment he remembered Dr. Hannibal Lecter and the admiration that he had for him from the moment he read that he was the author of terrible murders that had finished implying especially cannibalism, recalled how much he had admired him from the moment he knew the brutality with which Dr. Lecter was characterized by murder his victims and then turned them into a crude masterpiece of his morbid self-satisfaction, but in the eyes of everyone it was more than disgusting naming each of Hannibal's murders and his modus operandi as a work of art, but for a psychopath with twisted dark mind as Dolarhyde it was just that, art, artwork as admirable as Blake's or Rembrandt's art, as influenced as the art of Monet's and Caravaggio's.

He thought there were not stopped to think about Dr. Lecter for some time even though Lecter had provided him the location of Will Graham. Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the cannibalistic psychiatrist, psycho mastermind. Certainly one day he had to meet him in person. Dolarhyde hoped that it could happen soon, had to be in front of him to speak about his admiration and let him know that he now had the absolute power of the red dragon.

He spent a long time reading the newspapers, carefully focused of course on each of the notes that talked about him, about the red dragon, on the above crudely known as Tooth Fairy, that ridiculously pejorative way which the sensational stupid press had named him in principle until the time that he had murdered Freddie Lounds showing then the absolute mastery of the red dragon.

Time was spent reading and inadvertently night surprised him, in less than half an hour the place would close its doors and activities and so he decided to give back the newspapers that had borrowed. He went to the reception at a normal pace with newspapers stacked up in his hands and was just reaching the reception desk he spotted a short man reading with great interest other specimen of the same daily of that day, that daily that dictated in front page the assassination of corrupt British politician and merchant of drugs that had happened in that same city of Boston that morning. Dolarhyde approached with the intention of leaving the newspapers on the counter but did not take his eyes off of that individual who continued to read again and again the headline of the newspaper but more than that read with interest Dolarhyde could see in a moment that the man smirked mockingly. That same man was Dixon, the hired murderer sent to do such dirty mission to end the life of the British politician.

"I come to return these journals, thank you very much for your permission" Dolarhyde said to the manager. Hearing his voice, the blond man who was reading the newspaper looked up at him. Dixon was somewhat shocked and now his attention on the daily was lost, was now focused on looking at the profile of Dolarhyde. It was not at all a familiar face to him, it was not even a face that he had imagined before, but he was a man who was too much attracted and immediately Dixon could not help feel excitement for it. He smirked to himself, but still looking at Dolarhyde. But meanwhile Dolarhyde was busy end to return the newspapers to the person responsible. Dixon then licked his lips, in the brief time he had spotted Dolarhyde through his mind were bursting a lot of sinful desires.

The man was his kind, Dolarhyde was his type, the type of man who he liked to be in his bed, he was considerably tall and Herculean, of serious demeanor and alpha bearing. Dixon did not missing the opportunity to approach him to be closer of him and try to persuade him to be more alone and certainly then offer a good pay to have sex together in a hotel. Dixon licked lips again to hear one more the cavernous voice of alpha male of Dolarhyde. Stealthily he approached more to him and then Dolarhyde turned to see him after finishing to return the newpappers. None of them could have imagined at that time that both were murderers, both with potentially dangerous methods, none of them could have imagined that each other shared a taste for blood cruelly shed by innocents victims and in one way or another both had twisted feelings. It would not take long for both realized it.

Dolarhyde looked into his eyes, he knew that had not seen eyes like those, beautiful gray eyes with such a deep and intimidating gaze like his and at the same time Dixon knew for first time so close the bluish look of Dolarhyde, was a serene gaze but he totally caused him a lot of desires, a look of an alpha, a marvelous gaze hiding deep many dangerous secrets. Dolarhyde would be to him, they would be having sex in the width of his bed that night. Dixon had total egomaniac will to make anyone he liked finished on his bed fucking him, for being part of his sex play and his innermost fantasies. He was very arrogant on that. He moved closer to Dolarhyde still looking at him seductively in close proximity to invade his personal space placing a gloved hand very gently and fleetingly on his chest, over his shirt that was not even unbuttoned but that already Dixon was imagining undressing. Dolarhyde was a little hesitant, contrary to Dixon, he had not even considered having sex with him but in his unconscious Dixon also attracted him, for his total surprise. And that blond hair was almost drive him crazy, he wanted to touch it for a moment and then Dolarhyde hesitantly raised one of his hands almost with the intention to do so but he stopped.

Dixon caught that little intention of his part and that he liked. Dolarhyde fidgeted a bit and became more serious but instead Dixon smiled at him broadly again, showing his white and perfect smile. At that time Dolarhyde was stunned to himself, Dixon's smile seemed perfect, sublime, that completely captivated him. Anyway he always had the strange fetish for teeth, he was the Tooth Fairy, was the Red Dragon, dentures were something that he could not help feeling admiration.

"hello" Dixon mumbled finally breaking the tense silence.

"hello" Dolarhyde said with deep voice softened and finally left a little of his absorption and smiled too. At that time Dixon realized the small scar that Dolarhyde had on his superior lip, but it did not detract in any way gallantry "Can I help you with something?" He asked. Dixon smiled.

"Yes, actually I am a foreigner and I don't know much about this place and well I don't know the city in particular" said Dixon.

"I see, I could see in you an European feel... plus I also noticed you were reading the newspaper that came out this morning" Dolarhyde expressed.

"Yes, indeed...then you help me or not?" Dixon said coquettishly laughable, he could not stop looking at it and did not want to.

"I can do it but I think that will have to be tomorrow because today as you see they are about to close the place" Dolarhyde said a little dryly.

"okay, well but anyway you can still show me a little of the town, right?" Dixon said doing some emphasis in his British accent.

"I have no problem, well I like the British people in fact" Dolarhyde said almost whispering. Dixon was excited for that.

"oh you guessed I'm British!" Dixon said feigning surprise.

"now I understand why you were so interested in reading that article of the front page"

"Yes, I have been appalled for that terrible news. It is not very good to find out that type of news when I'm away from my country...you know?" Dixon said with false concern "but hey, I like guys like you, so let's out" he returned to outline a wide grin. Each took their belongings, Dixon took his elegant portfolios and Dolarhyde a small carry-on bag, and then they left the place together.

Being out there, the night was already dark and in front of them shone the night lights of the city from hight buildings and numerous cars transiting.

"We could go to a cafe... or perhaps you prefer a drink?" Dixon boldly suggested. Dolarhyde smiled at him.

"I like the idea of drink, I could use" Dolarhyde said while still smiled.

"me too. Do you suggest somewhere? Oh yeah…it's true! your mission now is to show me this busy city, or not?" Dixon said provocative.

"Well the truth is that I'm not a native of this place, in fact I just recently come to settle here some weeks ago" confessed Dolarhyde, a little shy.

"oh so interesting, I see, that really sounds more interesting. We could then explore the city together... but why do not we now I invite you to take that drink in my suite? The hotel where I'm staying is not far from here. What do you say?" said Dixon condescending.

Dolarhyde felt much more intrigued and excited to know more about the mysterious blond, his excitement was increasing gradually but he could not understand why. But he was enjoying this mysterious game of questions asked that they were having to start to know more about each other.

"Oh, so a suite..." Dolarhyde said softly but even in that tone Dixon thought he sounds even more masculine, fully alpha, felt a strange thrill through his body to just listening him. Soon he would have him on his bed, he still thinking.

"My suite is quite spacious and I can to order to bring us a good bottle of wine, vodka, gin, what you want" Dixon said suggestively in his sexy voice.

"That means you're a rich guy" muttered Dolarhyde.

"More than that, I'm powerful... but hey, I think we have been too suggesting a good night together but we have not even known our names. What is your name?" asked the blond.

"Ah, you're right, I was thinking exactly the same thing. Well, my name is... John Bateman" Francis said hesitantly, he could not reveal his real name nor in joke. Dixon was a complete stranger to him.

"oh... is a great name, I like it" Dixon said sincerely, he not distrusted of Dolarhyde nor a moment.

"And what is yours?" he asked curiously.

"Hector Dixon, that's my name" he replied, smirked.

"I also like it" Dolarhyde smiled at him, Dixon saw in that smile a lot of seduction.

After finishing introduced each other, Dixon ordered by a taxi to take them both to the luxurious hotel where Dixon was staying, which was not the same where the previous night he had committed the murder. They went up the elevator to the large suite of Dixon and being inside there Dixon ordered to the service to the room for they carried to them a couple of bottles of gin. All the way both were curiously inquiring many questions to know more about each other. It looked like if actually were having a great mutual attraction, though still none of them had even dared to give evidence on their real duties, on that dark and sadistic criminal life that they had decided to take.

Dolarhyde was also looking at the spacious and luxurious suite of Dixon, all that luxury was available to him, that's when Dolarhyde dared to ask if Dixon was a married or unmarried man. Dixon, who was serving at the time a couple of drinks with gin for both smiled at him mischievously laughable.

"No, I'm a man all alone, I'm available..." he smiled with his big white smile. That smile, immaculate, perfect, incited to Dolarhyde greatly, that perfect smile that gradually caused him the momentum to have it, to do something with the teeth, his mind inevitably began to plot some twisted ideas dimly projected in his unconsciousness.

Dark and strange impulses. He never before had felt this mixture of excitement because he also realized that were not only murderers instincts that were sprouting, it was something else. Perhaps the attraction that caused him was because of that Dixon was also a murderer like him, someone who did not see the minimum value of the lives of others. But that Dolarhyde still did not know.

Dixon extended one of the cups to giving it to Dolarhyde, or rather John Bateman. Dixon kept thinking how good it sounded his name, a masculine name that was perfect. He smiled again and when Dolarhyde reaching the cup what Dixon was giving to him, both could feel a subtle and light touch of their hands. Both were immersed in coquetry, in the sexual courtship, although Dolarhyde did not admit it.

"I hope you like this drink" Dixon mumbled and sat beside him.

"So you're a free man" muttered Dolarhyde "I wonder why someone like you can be alone... that is..."

At that time Dixon interrupted him with derisive laughter.

"And what about you? A guy like you should have family" Dixon sipped his drink, without taking his eyes off of who would be his new sexual victim of the night, Dolarhyde.

"No, actually I don't have anyone in this world..." Dolarhyde also drank from his cup and shrugged his shoulders a little. He did not want to remember his family.

They did not delved more on that topic but both were talking for a long time more about many other things, consuming cup after cup until the talk was even more enlivened giving way to some satirical jokes. The more time passed and the alcohol entered more and more in his bloodstream, Dixon felt much more attracted by Dolarhyde. His mind kept fantasizing about fiddling and each of his muscles, that were outstanding even under that shirt he wore, no doubt Dolarhyde's figure denoted the perfect athletic body that he had. Definitely he was the type of alpha that Dixon most wanted to take to his bed. While talking to him Dixon could not stop imagining being taken by him with all lust.

He decided it was time to speed things up even more than it already had proposed. And Dolarhyde had also consumed some alcohol so it would be much easier to propose it at that time, Dixon had to declare to Dolarhyde what was his true purpose of having taken him into his suite and instead offer to him a good pay for it.

Moreover, although Dixon was not completely sure, Dolarhyde also was feeling increasingly attracted by him.

"Well, John..." said Dixon appointing him for his false name "you know? I have had a wonderful night, very pleasant with you tonight but I don't want keep retarding more this, so I'll tell you what's my real purpose of bringing you tonight to my suite" he muttered with sensuality as then approached more to Dolarhyde. Dixon suddenly landed one of his hands over his groin threatening to touch beyond. Dolarhyde smiled maliciously in surprise, he could not deny that the audacity of Dixon liked him much, or maybe it was because of alcohol.

"tell me..." Dolarhyde muttered in his low, deep male voice. Dixon felt terribly excited to hear him with that sensual voice.

"You know we could pass a lot better than what we've been doing all night?" Dixon said boldly. Dolarhyde smiled again, though he had not yet grasped the message so well despite the attraction he was feeling because he had not considered to have sex with a man so he had no idea what was exactly Dixon wanted. Dolarhyde hesitated before answering.

"Oh yeah? in which way?" Dolarhyde asked a bit naive. Dixon chuckled at that and then decided to take things further and soon turned his hand to the member of Dolarhyde, squeezing it cheekily, feeling at last the whole bulk of his manhood between his fingers, with that touch he could feel that he had a very well endowed penis, which he had expected such a prominent and big man as Dolarhyde was.

To feel the hand of Dixon more than playing clasping his member on his jeans, Dolarhyde shuddered a bit oddly but he could not prevent to feel an immediate and perverse pleasure, long since no one did it to him, since Reba nobody touched him like that and his body reacted soon. His member would harden soon.

Dixon continued tinkering as he looked into Dolarhyde's eyes while he smiling at him malicious, desirous of hard sex.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dolarhyde asked trying not to drop a nervous laugh, because certainly it did not bother him at all.

"This is what I mean" muttered Dixon at last "let's have sex tonight, what do you think? I will offer you a very good pay for it" Dixon licked his lips, kept squeezing the virile manhood of Dolarhyde, he felt the member was hardened and although did not notice his penis already was hard too.

"I'm not the kind of homosexual who sleeps with men" said Dolarhyde directly, but Dixon followed crushing Dolarhyde's member and increasingly it became more pleasurable.

"It will be only tonight" Dixon said hoarsely "I like you too much and want you to take me, I want you penetrate inside me with your big cock brutally, I like hard sex and you are a perfect alpha male. I want you in my bed, this night, right now" said Dixon mostly excited and then tightened harder and dared the member of Dolarhyde.

Dolarhyde could not help to do a wince at the sharp squeeze, his pants began to squeeze even more than the bold hand of Dixon, he needed open the damn zipper soon to get rid of the infernal tension. The wince that had issued soon became in a moan of pleasure.

"Or is it perhaps you can't? Do not you have the power that I require? The power that I see in you? You are unable to satisfa..." Dixon wanted to provoke him at any cost but could not finish the sentence because suddenly Dolarhyde rose with rudeness to hear all that, feeling completely challenged, challenged by him, and he lunged at him with severity raw, aggressive, frowning. Dixon was shocked at this, this alpha male he loved had become in a brutal man, savage… and he liked more. Now he had on him, in the long sofa lined of fine vinyl. He went missing under imminent austere and threatening look of Dolarhyde and smiled maliciously at him but just as he was about to stroke his cheek, Dolarhyde lifted him with all his powerful force and as if Dixon weighed nothing, Dolarhyde took him in his arms and carried him quickly on the big luxurious bed.

Dolarhyde undressed him savagely in a total fit of unbridled passion, after all the Red Dragon was responsible for handing all his strength and vitality. He was much more powerful than ever. Dixon got carried away, almost helplessly, he was also enjoying it too much. Dixon had always liked sadomasochism anyway. And as they were both completely naked, Dolarhyde stood between his legs, threatening with his large and hardened erection targeted to his entry, and without hesitation he penetrated him.

Dixon felt the pain of the sudden invasion inside him, luckily he was so sexual addicted, so thirsty for sex that he had lubricated himself before, he had done it from the time he had allowed to enter Dolarhyde to his suite. He had done it because he did not want to waste time.

With total ease of his physical force, Dolarhyde penetrated him to the bottom and began to give him hard and fast thrusts nonstop. Dixon had not felt anything like that in a long time, certainly Dolarhyde was very well endowed and Dixon was enjoying it too much. Dolarhyde was dominating him completely. Ecstasy completely invaded all his senses, his consciousness, the domination of his own body. Dixon moaned until he was hoarse. He was being penetrated by the alpha male, by the Red Dragon. He had achieved his purpose.

Notes:

Well I hope you have enjoyed this first chapter which was sadistic, violent and intense :)
First I want to thank to my dear Rachel Watson for helping me with ideas to weave though the first book of the original saga of Thomas Harris with the series currently adapted by Bryan Fuller and interleave with Wild Target.
I want to apologize if I made mistakes because english is not my first language ^^U sorry about that.
Actually I started writing it since several months ago but I had not decided to finish and publish it until now. I pretend this will be too intense, with strong graphic situations, some will be quite grotesque and hard and delicious sex :v
So I have given the warning from now ;)
But sometimes there will be opportunity for some fluff too.
I hope to update soon, I also want to say that in this fic will be included Hannigram in future chapters.
Btw the false name of Dolarhyde as John Bateman it's the real name of the another character of Richard, Lucas North (Spooks, from BBC) haha ;)