Yes, yes, another chapter. Thank you all for the feedback! Happy New Year!

No beta read.

Swiggity swagness, embrace the madness.

oOo

Will held the knife in his hand as if it were a sacred object, as if it could break. He knew that Hannibal's favourite weapon was a blade. Guns were so impersonal, so messy, and harder to carry and hide. But a blade? It was easier to have a blade on you. You could do so many things to someone with it. And you were so close to your victim, feeling them, seeing every detail as you tried to decide what to do with them and as you performed your act.

Will held the man down with a gloved hand and his weight. He lifted the other hand (also gloved of course) and used it to scratch the man's cheek. The man whimpered, although he had barely lost any blood. Will had only just begun.

Hannibal knelt close to Will. Not too close, giving him his space; but close enough. He could not miss his lover's beautiful performance.

Will did not look at Hannibal. He was aware of his gaze, feeling it on his skin. He knew that he would be watching – his audience had always been devoted and enraptured. All that Will could see now, though, was the man. The man that he was going to kill.

The knife bit into the shirt, disposing it of all its buttons. The man was not really fit, but he was not bad to the eye. Not that it mattered really. Hannibal always knew what to do with the fat of his food.

Will rested the cold blade on the man's chest, right where the heart was. The man was breathing fast and he was sobbing. Hannibal found him a rather pathetic sight, but he knew that the flavor would not be pathetic at all.

The blade tore into the skin. The man began to scream, but Will went on. Nothing could stop him now. This was his crowning moment, the moment when he took a life, the moment when he felt oh so powerful and nothing could touch him.

The knife, biting the skin all the way, met the man's belt. There was a perfect red line on the man's torso. However, the man was still very much alive. Will was not done with him yet, oh no.

He thrust the knife deeper into the man, tearing him open but not destroying the organs inside. The man screamed and screamed and screamed, but Will did not falter, not even for a moment. He thought that he heard Hannibal's breath go a little faster, but he wasn't sure. He could hear his own breathing, his own heartbeat, steady at first, then going faster because of all the adrenaline, all the excitement.

Will carefully laid the knife down and put both of his hands inside the dying man. He felt the organs, the stomach, the liver. He softly touched the heart, the lungs. He felt the man's last breath leave his broken body. He held the heart in his hand and felt nothing.

Will let out a breath, a sigh. It had been marvelous. So exciting, so freeing.

He turned to Hannibal and held out a hand. The doctor had been grinning at him, obviously satisfied by his work. The grin widened as he saw the hand. He leaned in close, looking at the younger man mischievously. Then, he slowly began to lap at the hand, to lick all the blood that stained it. The blood had a salty and coppery taste (the glove didn't taste that good), but what Hannibal enjoyed more was Will's shivers as he kept licking.

When he was done, Will seemed disappointed. So, Hannibal took hold of his other arm and started lapping at all the blood he could find there. He could smell the scent of Will's arousal, but he would do nothing about it as of yet – well, perhaps nothing but to make it harder to endure – because that wasn't the place.

"Well done, William," he said when he was done.

Will smiled. "Thank you." There was not much else that he could say. Hannibal had taken every word out of him. He just wanted to feel him, all of him.

All of a sudden, Hannibal grabbed Will and kissed him rather violently. He was giving him a taste of the victim's blood, of his own work. Will was pushing his upper body as close to Hannibal as he could, given that both of them were still on their knees. He wanted to be one with the doctor, to be consumed by him.

Sometimes Will still thought that he was losing his mind. The way that he felt about Hannibal, and the way that Hannibal made him feel…It could be defined as addiction, obsession, self destruction. Will was drawn to Hannibal as a moth is drawn to flame. He knew that Hannibal could burn him, but he was so attracted to him that he could not prevent himself from getting close, from surrendering, no matter the outcome.

When Hannibal broke the kiss, he began to stroke Will's cheek. Even the barest of touch excited Will. He was certain that Hannibal knew it; he must have noticed. But there was little pride left in him to care about that. Hannibal could play with him, and they both knew it; there was no point in denying it or trying to convince the doctor otherwise.

However, Will had to admit that he was more in control now. More in control of himself. He could control his emotions. He felt calmer, more collected. He felt more like Hannibal. Everyone thought that he was recovering. They did not know the bloody (quite literally) truth.

"Will," Hannibal said, bringing the younger man back to reality, "you once said that killing someone is the ugliest thing there is. Do you still believe that?"

"No. Not anymore. I…I feel powerful. I enjoy it. I feel calm, peaceful, like killing lifts a weight off my shoulders."

Hannibal smiled. He was satisfied by Will's answer. "You are pure," he said. He had succeeded.

oOo

Hannibal stacked the last of the meat in the refrigerator. He already had a few ideas considering what recipe he might use it in.

When he turned around, he found Will standing there, watching him. He was not surprised – he had already smelled the younger man. The latter slowly approached the former. Not afraid, not hesitant; just teasing. Hannibal smiled; the old Will rarely ever acted like that, approaching instead of waiting to be approached, seducing instead of being seduced.

His lips met Hannibal's, just a brush. He looked at Hannibal and kissed him again, this time full on the mouth. Their hot, wet tongues fought for dominance until Hannibal surrendered. Will's tongue made its own trip inside Hannibal's mouth, tasting every corner of it. Will was holding the older man possessively. Hannibal accepted it all. Will was still aware of who had the control.

Hannibal broke the kiss and took Will by the hand. He took a seat and guided Will to sit on his lap. He wrapped his arms around the younger man's body, holding him right where he wanted him.

With one hand on the back of Will's head, he pulled the empath to him, their hungry mouths finding each other in burning passion. Before long, they were themselves against the other, creating a friction. Will's breath had quickened, and his need to feel Hannibal had elevated in great degree.

Soon, most of their clothes were gone, thrown all around the kitchen. One of Hannibal's fingers was inside Will, hitting just the right spot. Will was moaning, holding on to his lover αs though for dear life, scattering heated kisses all over him.

Hannibal added a second finger, scissoring his young lover open. He kissed Will on the neck, sucking his pulse point, tasting the aftershave that he had bought for him (being so intimate with Will, he did not like the smell of those with a ship on the bottle) and salty sweat.

When Hannibal pushed in a third digit, Will gasped. He was rocking against the three fingers, loving their feel inside him but needing to feel something thicker.

And before he even knew what was happening, his wish became true. They were on the kitchen floor, and he was riding Hannibal's cock. His hands were on Hannibal's chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath his palms and his hair through his fingers. Hannibal had one hand on Will's waist, pushing him further down, and another around Will's manhood, stroking it from base to tip.

Will could not suppress his moans. Hannibal was breathing faster, panting. He was looking Will straight in the eye, and that aroused Will even more.

They came at the same time, Hannibal releasing himself inside Will, Will releasing himself on Hannibal's flat stomach. Hannibal let out a groan – a rich, powerful, primitive sound. Will screamed Hannibal's name.

When they came down from their blissful high, Will lay on the floor, right next to Hannibal. He looked at the older man and grinned. He had to admit that he found it rather surprising that they had had sex on the kitchen floor.

As his heartbeats slowly began to fall down to normal, he trusted himself to speak. "Um…I'll bring you a tissue for the…" He pointed to Hannibal's abdomen.

Hannibal looked at the mess on his body. He looked at Will and grinned wolfishly. Then, he ran his fingers through Will's cum and started licking them, one by one, savouring the rather sweet flavor. Will watched him and gasped, his breathing once again escalating. For just one second, he imagined Hannibal eating him up, devouring him, consuming him.

There was nothing that he could do about his attraction to Hannibal Lecter, about his addiction. He could only give in to it. And burn. Or sink. Or fly.

oOo

And…done! I feel that I'm not really good at writing smut, but I just really wanted to write some really hot Hannigram.

I have an announcement to make. My exams are coming, so I'll be a bit busy studying. That means that I might not have much time for new chapters. However, reading Constitutional Law might actually give me some inspiration, who knows; so don't worry, it won't take me months to update.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is love! x