A/N: Sorry, sorry. I was doing so well with the whole 1 chapter a day thing - I was pretty proud of myself. But then I left my laptop in my professor's office. Oops. I just got it back. I decided to upload the first part of chapter 11 in hopes of remedying the situation. It is not the whole chapter, I am sorry, the rest will be uploaded tomorrow. This is the half of the chapter without the plot, and mostly is just sex, and a little bit of some explanation. The second part has more plot, I promise. (I'm not sure if half of you are reading this for the plot, though. Maybe you just like dangerous sadomasochistic sex between two sadists. Or the Hannigram concept as a whole. I don't actually know.) (I am sorry, I ramble a LOT) Um. Right. So. Enjoy.
Will supposed he should have seen it coming; he would have died to protect Abigail - she wasn't like Hannibal and himself, beasts wearing, as Hannibal's psychiatrist had evidently phrased it 'a well crafted person suit' of 'meticulous construction.' Each of them bore new scars as though the other had tried to dig within and pull out the truth of the other out, to bear to the eyes the darkness that lurked inside. Once again, Will briefly considered fetishism as a concept, his hand travelling along the light white lines on his chest, marvelling at the way they threaded along his body, a display of Hannibal's assertion of dominance. Hannibal had a few of his own, Will's favourite being a bite scar on the other's chest. It was enticing - the blood, the power, the pain, in the eyes of the others it was violent and sadistic, yet between the two of them it was a game of lovers. How odd that Hannibal had stripped him of most of his reservations and most of his forts. He had done a fair bit of what Hannibal had asked, acting confused and afraid as he left the woman whose face had been cut into a glasgow smile, or even pretending to hear an animal as Hannibal had called Alana to come check on him, and he had kissed her. It had felt...weird for lack of a better term, and although Hannibal had known about it, intended for it to happen, Will felt obligated to tell the other. "...She's very kissable," he concluded. "Nevertheless, it made me feel sick."
Hannibal smiled, "I know all of this, but I fail to understand why you drove hours in the snow to tell me about it." A pause. "Do you, perhaps, feel guilty?"
Will met Hannibal's eyes, "Nothing about us to feel guilty about," he responded simply, looking away, and down at the food he did not have feel he had the capacity to fully appreciate, intricate and decorated to the point where it no longer resembled something edible. Will was not a particularly picky eater, so he easily ate anything that Hannibal served him, and had yet to be disappointed by it. Even mushrooms, the sole food Will disliked purely for it's texture that seemed to resemble soggy leather, became edible and delicious. Hannibal smirked at Will's response, pulling his gaze back to his own, before kissing him lightly on the lips.
That night it had rained again, the snow, water, and hail blending until it was practically biting flesh, which resulted in Will staying the night - something that Hannibal had intended him to do anyways. It had not been long after dinner that Will had gone to bed, and not long after that he awoke, bleary eyed, but awake nonetheless. "Hannibal," He said, adressing the darkness within the room.
"Yes?" Came the muffled, but far from sleepy response.
"This is the second time you've drugged me," he commented, his voice lacking in emotional weight, whether positive or negative. It was just a statement.
"Are you opposed?" Hannibal asked, and Will felt him begin to shift beside him.
"I am high on ecstasy," Will responded. "There is very little I am opposed to."
"Good," came Hannibal's simple reply as he shifted again, this time cradling Will's body from above him. His lips met Will's, taking from it whatever of Bloom lingered there, stealing from him any trace of thought Will might have for anyone but him. It seemed odd, how something that he himself had asked had resulted in such a great deal of jealousy. It was not as though he was unaware that Hannibal had bound Will to him, in more ways than one, it was just that something primal and emotional within him found it hard to bear. Will Graham was his, regardless of intentions. Hannibal kissed him, a long drawn out passionate kiss as he took in the taste of Will, the taste of coffee and toothpaste, and the definitive taste of just...Will. He lightly bit the other's lip, before his hands found their way to the silken cloth of the tie he had been wearing, as he shoved it into the other man's mouth, allowing for no sounds but muffled protests that died away quickly, and Will licked his lips, with difficulty, and stared at Hannibal with heat as Hannibal also bound the other's hands above his head, and tied them to the bedposts, this time with a rope. Hannibal had considered using a nylon rope instead, but he wanted it to cut into Will's wrists.
Hannibal's hands ran down Will's bare chest, meeting with th band of his boxers as he gently seperated it from the pale skin, revealing Will's manhood, which he proceeded to stroke, while his other fingers plunged into Will, drawing a gasp for the man from behind the gag he currently wore. "I would apologize," Hannibal said, each word in time with a sharp thrust of his fingers in sync with his hand on Will's cock, "but I would not mean it. And, I am sure you will get revenge soon enough. So..." he withdrew his lubricated fingers, replacing at the entrance his own cock as he said, "just enjoy it." He plunged in, resulting in other desperate gasp as Will found against his restraints, which only lead to pain and more stimulating noises as Hannibal thrust himself into Will, each movement hard, the sound of slapping skin as Hannibal's lips travelled down bare skin, biting and licking and kissing. The more Will fought his restraints, the more pain he was in, the more exhilarating it was, Hannibal's hand moving in time with his own vicious violent thrusts. Will came first, and Hannibal licked the salty bitter taste from his fingers, before dragging his hand down Will's abdomen, decorating white with white before he himself reached climax, murmuring Will's name as his bit his shoulder, sharp and hard, feeling the trickling of blood. He continued biting Will, marking the other man's flesh with the essence of him. He wanted to tear into Will's flesh, and leave a mark that would never fade, deeper and darker than any of these scars that the man wore, more brilliant that the bruises and bright angry red lines.
"Fuck," Hannibal muttered, feeling another erection entice him toward Will's body. He wrapped a hand around Will's neck, keeping the man against the headboard, as his lips met the tip of Will's cock, while the man tried to kick him. Catching his leg, he forced it down, and continued to suck, watching as the man writhed beneath him, muffled words behind fabric unintelligible, but unimportant as Will's body reacted, and Hannibal chuckled lightly, letting Will fall from his mouth, and wiping his mouth with his wrist, before again jerking the man off, feeling as his own arousal became more and more distracting and painful. He could wait, and would wait, until he brought Will again off again, using lips and fingers and skilled movements as he pulled and tugged and licked. This time, he took Will's cum, and took it entirely into his mouth, before he shoved his fingers into Will's mouth, which had become wet with the inability to swallow, yet the gag was absorbing most of it. It was sort of beautiful, because Will almost didn't seem human - he was more perfect than that.
Hannibal jerked his hips, and entered Will yet again, slow at first, each movement agonizing and tender, before he began to move with effort, each pump into Will's body, he was practically slamming himself against the other, skin meeting skin, leaving angry red welts on the buttocks of the other man. He was fucking Will deeper and deeper into the bed, and when Hannibal came again, reaching up to touch Will's face, he realized that the reason why the other man had, at one point ceased fighting, was that he had lost conciousness. Briefly, Hannibal considered lowering the dosage next time, but decided against it, cleaning himself, and cutting a small 'H' on Will's hip deep enough that it would surely scar. He licked the blood away, and untied his hands from the bedposts, and instead tied them to a lower post in order to avoid cutting off circulation, and then he went to sleep, cradling that body that he had dirtied, loving every inch of it.
_._
Will's eyes flickered opened, weariness ebbing and giving way to sheer exhaustion, his muscles sore, and strained. He flexed his arms, his legs, and then began to stretch, before his hand seemed to catch. Alarm washed through him as he began to panic, fighting and struggling against something he could not quite understand in his sleepy state, as his wrists burned and he felt the wet trickle of blood as old wounds became new again. The scratching...his eyes fell on rope, and immediately he understood. Hannibal had not untied him, but simply let him sleep that way. He yawned, struggling with a final tug, but as pain shot up his limbs he gave up. At least he had ungagged him - but just as that thought crossed his mind, his eyes fell on the tie Hannibal had used, and he realized that Hannibal had not, in fact, untied it, but it had simply come undone in his sleep. He looked over at the sleeping man to his side, so peaceful and calm as he slept, his arm wrapped around Will's waist, his head resting against Will's bound forearm on a satin-covered pillow. The man looked so serene.
"It is not polite to stare," came the gruff, voice of a sleepy Hannibal, hoarse as it always was in the mornings, his accent slurring his words a bit more than usual.
"It is not socially acceptable," Will amended, "Just as it is not socially acceptable to drug your lover, and leave him bound and gagged as he slept."
"Apparently the gag did not make it through the night," came the groaned response, as Hannibal sat up, and kissed Will. "Not that I mind."
"'Course not," Came Will's retort. "There is going to be a reckoning, you know," Will said lightly.
"I know. And then I will fuck you until you are unable to walk, until you are unable to speak, until the night ends, and you are too exhausted to stand up in the morning."
"How vulgar," Will laughed, but if he was not fighting the effects of what must have been the drugs, he would be, and was aroused.
"Indeed," Hannibal agreed, kissing Will again, "but true. You are mine, Will."
"I know," came the short response.