Firstly, I want you to know that I'm not a native english speaker so forgive me for any mistakes, feel free to point them out but please, don't go grammar nazi mode on me. This is also my first fanfic, Will and Hannibal's relationship is so... I just had to write what the series couldn't in the TV. Yes, there's going to be an insight in their relation but m/m and rough sex too. Hope you like it, let me know ; )

He was slapped and bit his cheek, the metallic taste was distinct in his mouth, it hurt, but soft lips tried to sooth the ache, sucking the very same spot that caused it. Strangely, it worked. The pain was bearable and after a few moments replaced by pure pleasure, such sweet pleasure that he couldn't help but moan. A sudden urge to open his eyes and see who was his lover came to him and when he finally did, brown eyes stared back, not warm chocolate, but a fiery storm of earth and freckles of red, hot as lava. That might sound poetic and all but still didn't describe what he saw in those eyes. Hannibal's eyes.

Will woke up panting and soaked in sweat, as usual. It was no surprise for him waking up from nightmares, actually it was routine, but this was no nightmare, was it? The dream couldn't even be considered a wet dream: no release came from it, only more tension. Such delightful feelings weren't bad, but with a man? Worse yet, Hannibal? This dreams were only getting more frequent. He held nothing against gay men, but never thought it was his cup of tea, until Hannibal.

The psychiatrist was everything he wasn't, Will thought, elegant and confident, moving with grace and at ease with himself. Even after years living in Baltimore, his English still had a slight accent hinting European origins, as if his exotic bone structure wasn't enough to give him away.

Most people wouldn't accuse him of being beautiful, it was something in his aura, gestures and manners that attracted them. Will disagreed, for him, Hannibal was beautiful and attractive and much more. Too bad their relationship was only a professional patient-doctor, even if not officially, though he doubted Hannibal would want more than that, whether as lovers or friends.

Checking the time on the bedside clock, it was almost time to get up so he might as well get himself ready now. He couldn't go back to sleep, not after that dream. He didn't even want to think about today's 20:00 session with a certain psychiatrist. Right now, he had to get to his class.

''I would like to get to know you better. A free session, of course and...'' Blah, blah, blah, again Will was the victim of some Doc wanting to use him like a lab rat. Now and then people, mostly ''shrinks'', waited for him to get out of class and ask inconvenient questions.

''Thank you but I don't need it'' He interrupted ''I'm already seeing a doctor''

''Doctor who..?'' The man asked with curiosity at the same time Will's cellphone ringed. For once he was grateful to the annoying thing that symbolized social communication, fortunately, or not, he didn't have many friends so it should be work.

''I'm sorry'' He really wasn't ''I have to get this.''
The call was from work, a dead body. Hooray.

''If I was a puppet then you'd be my master, to pull my strings forever after.''

Will hated puppets, people are just like them. They stand there pretty and smiling on the stage but behind it they can't even stand, laying there in a pile of disorganized members connected by a string of manipulation. It would seem this killer liked them.

There were two bodies, both of women. A grotesque scene that could be almost erotic if it wasn't for the blood stains everywhere. The members had been cut right where articulations met - hands, forearms, head, legs, all connected by strings, just like puppets. The killer arranged the scene in a way that looked like the women were kissing each other, breast to breast, hanging from the ceiling.

As it was routine, everybody got out of the room to let Will do what he did best: empathize with the murderer. He knew that some of the team held resentment for his ''exclusivity'' but thought it was ridiculous, who would want to be VIP in a crime scene?

He closed his eyes and expanded his mind. Dilated pupils and panting breath. That's how the killer felt, first rage and desperation, trying to run from...

I'm not a puppet! He spanks the women as he rapes them, taking his knife from the pocket only after brutal damage.

First stab.
I'm not... Another stab.
A fucking... Thirteenth stab.
Puppet.

Then a calm sense of peace embraces him. Blood stains are roses, the women on the floor are angels and his breath is the sweetest melody. He is their master and they served him well, so they would be recompensed with being a part of his piece of art, pieces actually, he thought with a bitter sense of humor. This isn't a show, this is my life.

''C'mon, another guy with a god complex?'' One of the forensics team workers mumbled while checking inside between the legs of the corpse with a ridiculously pink lantern ''Yep, there was sexual abuse'' Pretty words for rape, Will thought and leaned forward.

''I believe it's quite the opposite, this guy has an inferiority complex and wants to prove something. As it is obvious by the arrangement, he has some issues with puppets'' He said more to himself than to the other man. ''For all we know, he could be some creepy working on a kid's toys store'' He bitterly smirked.

''Puppets, huh?'' Jack Crawford said ''Well, this might be a long shot but yes, I'll have somebody check it''

Will stood at Hannibal's front door with a bottle of wine and rang the bell, he was almost two hours early but couldn't wait anymore to see the doctor, anxiety making his hands tremble. The man seemed to drink wine at every opportunity, so he bought a bottle, even not knowing much about wine, he just wanted to make a good impression. Too late for that, he thought. His hair was a mess, as always, his clothes ruffed, as always. He should come back later, wait in the car, but as he was turning, the door opened.

''Hello William'' Hannibal said with his usual cool politeness while frowning ''You're early, is there something wrong?''

Will glanced back and forth to the street, his feet, the door, never meeting the doctor's eyes for more than a second.

''Err... I was... I am... I c-can come back later, sorry'' He mumbled and started to make for the street.

''Stop'' Hannibal said, first, in a very authoritarian way, then, much gentler ''Come in, Will.'' He offered his hands to take the bottle.

How could Will resist the demanding those soft words masked? Looking up and really seeing, hypnotized and no longer fully aware of his actions, he gave the bottle, gasping soundly when their fingers brushed, prickling in a good way even after the contact. Hannibal took a step aside to let him enter. He did and heard the muffled thump of the door closing behind them.