1-800-HOTLINE
zacharybosch

Summary:
A one-thousand-five-hundred token tip, and now he was being taken private. The guy was obviously thirsty for him. He could probably spin the private show out for another hour at least. Will could hardly believe his luck.

"Are- are you sure? Not that I'm complaining, but you already tipped me so much…"

HNB: I'm taking you private. Expect my request imminently.

Will is a camguy. Hannibal is a customer. Things Happen.


Chapter 1

Will had never set out with the intention of making his living by getting naked on the internet. A long-distance relationship during his last year of college had introduced him to the idea of having his cock out on camera, and when the relationship ended he found that he missed the exhibitionism of being on screen more than the person he'd been doing it for. It only took a few more deeply unpleasant shifts on the checkouts at Wal-Mart for him to quit and seek alternative means of earning money.

The website he favoured, Hotline, had started many years ago as a phone service. They weren't the most popular then, and they weren't the most popular now as a streaming service, but it was his comfortable corner of the internet and he did well enough.

It was a simple operation. Will had a public chatroom where his webcam stream was available for all to see. Customers could just watch and listen to whatever Will felt like doing, but they could also purchase tokens and give them to Will as tips. One token cost ten cents, and was worth seven cents to Will when he cashed out. He generally aimed for a minimum of one thousand tokens per hour of streaming, which would net him a tidy seventy dollars. It wasn't such a bad wage.

Of course, there were also private shows. Customers could request a private stream, just them and Will, and it earned him thirty tokens per minute. When a customer had Will all to themselves, it was a simple matter to turn on the charm, convince them he was having the best time of his life, and urge them to stay longer, spend more.

Freeloaders were unfortunately all too common, and most customers wouldn't pay for a private show. They'd hang out in the public chat for hours, hoping for a free glimpse of something.

Tip goals were a good way to build up an audience. He'd advertise a goal and tell customers that once he hit it, he'd do something in public chat that he normally reserved for private shows only. Mostly, this involved a few fingers in his ass and the cumshot everyone had been waiting all evening for. People were more willing to chip in twenty or thirty tokens if they thought everyone else would too, and then they'd all get to watch a public show at the end of it.

It was essentially just another customer service job, but the money was astronomically better, he could pick an awful punny name for himself (Buster_Knutt, and how proud he was for thinking up that), and if a customer was rude he could straight up tell them to fuck off. And then block them for good measure.

He could pay his bills on time, he had good stores of medications for his senior dogs, and his savings account was looking quite healthy. What more could he ask for than that?

It was a slow night. Mid-week was never the most lucrative time, but Will could reliably make about a hundred and fifty dollars in a couple of hours. He'd been online for three hours already and had barely made half that. He was advertising his tip goals as normal, was offering all the right incentives to get the tokens flowing, but few people were taking the bait, and those who did were tipping amounts well below average.

Another five-token tip came in, shove ur fist up ur ass bb, and Will considered calling it a night. He could barely be bothered to keep himself hard anyway.

"I think I might log off soon everyone, it's pretty slow tonight."

TFWnogf: aw no, your so cute, pls stay!
BigDick6969: but i luv ur Ass bb so sweet
fuckbuttons: give us a look at that hole before u go ;)

"If you wanted to see that shit, you guys should've tipped me."

xxdragonboyxx: im broke lol
fuckbuttons: gimme a break i been comin here to see u since u started! dont i get a freebie?
hentaiPony: do u hav a hairdryer can i see it i rly like hairdryers
TFWnogf: ugly ass tight ass bitch

"You got plenty for free already and you all know it. I'm going now, I'll be back on tomorrow night."

HNB tipped you 1500 tokens!

Will blinked at the screen, cursor poised and ready to click on the logout button. That was over a hundred dollars for him right there. It would've cost the tipper even more than that in token purchases. He didn't recognise the username. Who dropped that kind of money on someone they'd never watched before, let alone on an absolutely dead night like this?

He should probably say something.

"Shit, ah, HNB, thank-you. You just made my night worth it. I… thank-you. Shit." Will sat back against the cushions of his bed and laughed for the first time all evening. "What do you want? Once I reached my goal, I was just going to ride my fingers while I jerked off, but since you were so generous, do you…. Do you have a request? Something else you'd like to see?"

HNB: I'm taking you private.

A one-thousand-five-hundred token tip, and now he was being taken private. The guy was obviously thirsty for him. He could probably spin the private show out for another hour at least. Will could hardly believe his luck.

"Are- are you sure? Not that I'm complaining, but you already tipped me so much…"

HNB: I'm taking you private. Expect my request imminently.

The other remaining customers in the chatroom were in uproar. They'd been hanging about all evening just waiting for someone else to pay the money so they'd all get a free show, and now their misplaced sense of entitlement was sending them absolutely frothy with rage.

They'd be back tomorrow, though. They always were.

HNB is requesting a private session. Accept?

HNB continued to visit Will's chatroom for the next few weeks. His mode of operation was always the same: he would log in, sit in Will's room saying nothing at all, and then just before Will reached his token goal for a public show, HNB would tip some ludicrous amount of money to push him well past that goal. And then he'd take him private.

Will was a little concerned at first that his other customers would be driven away, that HNB's constant sniping would make them turn to other people behind other webcams. Instead, it had the opposite effect: word had spread of the model who was so hot that the same customer spent hundreds of dollars on him every week, and people flocked to his chatroom to see what all the fuss was about. They tried to meet Will's token goals as quickly as they could before HNB logged on, desperate to get their public show. Sometimes they even managed it. Mostly they didn't.

While HNB often had specific sexual requests for their private sessions, he also seemed to get a kick out of watching Will just… be. On several occasions he had instructed Will to lay back against his cushions and take a half-hour nap. Other times he asked Will to read him a chapter of whatever book he was currently working his way through.

Tying his fishing flies; brushing the long coat of a new addition to the canine family; giving a basic tutorial on how to take apart a boat motor, with the intention of getting as oily as possible; HNB's requests for what he wanted to see were varied and sometimes a little peculiar, and Will found them almost impossibly endearing.

He figured HNB was a wealthy, lonely old man, probably widowed, missing the boring intimacies of married life. Will could understand that. He didn't feel the ache of loneliness very often, but occasionally it struck him that it might be nice to have someone to complain about the fishing twine he left strewn on the dining table.

It was pretty easy to tell when a customer was angling for Will to fill this role of online spouse, and he tried to avoid it wherever possible. It was never easy when someone became fixated on him and he had to explain that, no, he doesn't have reciprocal feelings, this is literally just a job. He should do the same with HNB, of course, nip it in the bud before it got out of hand.

The money was useful, though. He'd already got his busted old water heater replaced, and besides, HNB seemed perfectly in control of himself. Will decided to ignore his various self-imposed limits as he cheerfully passed them by.

Will was now making more money off HNB alone than he was from all his other customers combined. There was barely any reason for him to keep on using the Hotline site.

"We could just do this over Skype, you know. Then you wouldn't be wasting thirty percent of everything you spend." Will considered for a moment, then carried on. "But it's not enough just to have me, is it? You want to be taking me away from others. You want them to see it. Have me in reach and then you swoop in and snatch me away."

HNB: Lovely boy, you see right through me.
HNB: But perhaps you could let me have your Skype details anyway, just as a back-up.

"Sure, I'll just send-"

HNB: I will pay for the privilege, of course. What's the going rate these days? 500 tokens?

"Ha! You'd be so lucky. I know some guys charge five hundred per month for the pleasure of receiving shitty filter pics on goddamn Snapchat. Skype's a lot more personal than that." Will thought for a minute, trying to decide just how much he could get away with charging. Whatever he said, HNB would probably just find it charming and pay without a second thought. "But if you insist on paying… Two thousand tokens. For now. There might be a… hmmm, a renewal fee after an unspecified length of time."

HNB tipped you 2000 tokens!

Will smiled to himself.

"I'm sending my Skype details over now. And… is there something I can call you, besides HNB? It doesn't really sound… It's not a name."

Customers gave Will pet names fairly regularly, but he never returned the favour and never brought up the idea himself. Too personal. There was something about HNB, however, that pulled at the back of his brain, made him want to reach out and connect. He wanted to know him, and it was an exceptional rarity.

HNB: I am content with HNB. But you could call me Doctor, if it feels better for you.

"Are you a doctor?"

HNB: Yes.

"Wow. Okay. Doctor." The word felt lush in his mouth. "I like that."

HNB: It sounds filthy when you say it.

"It feels filthy."

HNB: And is there something that I can call you? Buster Knutt is, of course, a very clever pun, but it's a little crude.

Will was stumped. His pseudonym was ridiculous, there was no denying that, and it had always felt a little wrong, knowing that HNB had to think of him under that name.

HNB: I would never ask for your real name, of course. I understand privacy is important in this line of work.
HNB: Perhaps we can think of a nickname for you, together?

"No, just… Call me Will. That's my name."

HNB: Will.

A shaky breath, and an uncharacteristically shy smile. "Yeah."

Some customers didn't want to spend tokens, but they did want to send Will gifts. He maintained extensive wishlists on several websites, and set up a PO box in town that he visited once every couple of weeks. HNB, of course, was quick on the uptake and soon exhausted Will's lists of everything even remotely good.

HNB: Will, I find it difficult to believe that butt plugs and lube are the only things you want. Everything on your lists is either a sex toy or something to help insert a sex toy.

"Well… yeah. Think about it. If I want people to buy me anything at all I have to be realistic. What I'd really like is some new dinner plates. Mine are all scuffed and mismatched and they were second-hand when I got 'em. But no-one's gonna buy me that kind of stuff. It's not sexy. They want to see me use the things they gift me, and sitting on cam eating dinner off nice new plates is not most customers' idea of a good time…"

HNB: Is there a brand of crockery you particularly like?

Will fell back against his bed and laughed. "I'm going to be real with you, Doctor. I can't even name a crockery brand, let alone pick a favourite."

A week later, Will received a sixteen-piece Le Creuset dinnerware set that retailed for over three hundred dollars.

HNB had been coming to Will's chatroom for over two months now. By this point, most other regulars had paid for the luxury of having Will watch their cam as well. Not that Will ever paid a huge amount of attention, as one guy furiously jerking off with a very severe look on his face looked much like another, but he kept the little window open while he let his eyes go out of focus. No-one ever really noticed.

HNB had never asked him, though. Not even hinted at it. Will was on the verge of taking it as a personal affront.

"You've really never wanted me to watch you back? A lot of guys get a kick out of me seeing them too."

HNB: I have a respected business and a large circle of influential, gossip-prone peers. If my involvement in this kind of thing were to be revealed, the scandal would be far-reaching and insufferably tedious.
HNB: I don't mean to imply that I find this shameful. Far from it. I never feel guilty about indulging in a pleasure.
HNB: Nor do I mean to imply that you're untrustworthy and might consider blackmailing me. I think I have a fair measure of you and you don't strike me as the kind of man who would do that.
HNB: I simply value my privacy a great deal, and it's a risk I'm not willing to take.

"Fair enough. That doesn't actually answer my question though, Doctor. Do you want me to see you?"

It was a solid minute before HNB replied.

HNB: I have desired it.
HNB: Often.
HNB: Lovely Will, please don't ask me to show myself to you, because I'll want to say yes.

"Shit. Sorry."

HNB: Think nothing of it.
HNB tipped you 500 tokens!
HNB: Put on the robe I sent you, the cream silk.

It took another month for HNB to finally crack, but he'd been so adamant in his desire to remain utterly anonymous that it still came as somewhat of a shock to Will when he finally admitted it.

HNB: I thought I could be content with our arrangement as it currently stands, but seeing you is no longer enough.
HNB: I feel overcome with a desire to also be seen by you.

"You told me that was completely off the table," Will said, wondering how much he should pry. Surely if HNB didn't want him asking, he wouldn't have brought it up in the first place? "What changed?"

HNB: I don't know.
HNB: Maybe nothing changed and I'm merely thinking of it differently.
HNB: What I do know is that when I think of showing myself to you, it feels as though I'm falling from a great height, at once both terrified and exhilarated.

Will was no stranger to customers spouting overwrought nonsense at him, but HNB shook him deeply. He had known on a practical level that HNB was enormously invested in him to a point that went far beyond the professional performer-customer relationship, and Will had done nothing to dissuade him in that. Against his better judgement, he'd encouraged him, and now Will was back at a point he'd been at before, with a customer all but professing their love and Will having to be the stone-cold bitch shooting down their hopes and dreams. Good business dictated it.

Except he didn't want to shoot HNB down. Not in the slightest. The thought of seeing HNB's face knocked the wind out of him and set heat curling in his fingertips.

"You got it bad, huh?"

HNB: I do.

"Me too," said Will, feeling just the slightest bit shaky. "Let me see you."

HNB wants to share their webcam. Accept?

Will couldn't see much at first, just the suggestion of an arm, a pair of shoulders.

"Turn the light on, will you? It's so dark, I can barely see a thing."

"My apologies. One moment."

Will clapped a hand over his mouth to smother a gasp. For some stupid reason, he'd assumed that HNB wouldn't speak and would just continue typing instead. But he'd spoken, four tiny words that Will would gladly listen to over and over again until he went deaf. Low, a little husky, but carried on a smooth and sure undertone that lilted with an accent from somewhere Will couldn't place.

And then HNB clicked on a lamp on a nearby end table and Will gasped all over again. He'd formed a vague picture in his mind of what HNB could look like, but it was so far from the reality presented before him that he felt a little stupid for getting it so unutterably wrong.

He looked alien, almost, a kind of fierce and challenging beauty that hurt to look at and hurt to look away from. Cut-glass cheekbones, velvet-plush lips, amber-rich eyes… And the most ridiculous suit and tie combination Will had ever seen.

"Is… is that orange plaid? With a blue tie? A blue paisley tie? Oh my god."

"If you're going to sit there and mock my choice in clothes-" HNB said, positively frosty.

"No, no, I'm sorry. I'm just- nervous, I guess. It actually looks good. It shouldn't, but it really does. It looks great. You look great."

"Do I?" Warmer, and a little smug. God, Will could get drunk on his voice.

"Yeah. And you sound great. Rumbly. I bet you feel good too."

That got him. HNB closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.

"Perhaps this was a bad idea," HNB said with a faint smile. "Now you'll see what a weak man I am, so easily wrecked by you."

"Laying it on a little thick, aren't you, Doctor?"

"But it's true. And, please… call me Hannibal."

"Another nickname?"

"No, just my given name. Say it for me."

Will wrapped his lips around the name, drew out the first syllable far longer than necessary. "Hannibal."

"Will…"

"I have a request, Will, if you'll hear it."

Will was in the bathtub, laptop perched on a chair firmly out of splashing distance. It was one of Hannibal's favourite activities, Will wet and flushed in the bath, and Hannibal dry and reclining on his couch, enjoying the spectacle. "Sure, what's up?"

"It's, ah, a little more involved than usual. You may not like it. I respect completely your right to deny me, but please hear me out before you make a decision."

That jangled Will's nerves. "Don't scare me, Hannibal."

"I'll try my best not to." He paused, to gather his thoughts or work up the courage or change his plans entirely. "I have a house, a vacation home that I don't use as often as I would like, out on some cliffs in Chesapeake Bay. The view over the water is quite striking, even during the winter."

Will felt a sick lurch in his stomach. Hannibal was going to ask to meet him, and against all his common sense, Will was desperate to say yes.

Hannibal continued hurriedly, evidently concerned by the look on Will's face. "I'm not asking you to meet with me in such an isolated location. I know safety is your primary concern, and despite our time together it would be ill-advised to meet anyone alone like that. What I am asking is that you take a trip to the house, without me. Stay for as little or as long as you like. I would make it ready for you, air out the rooms-"

"Hannibal, I can't just up and leave."

"I would pay for your dogs' care while you're gone. Whatever you need."

"I…" Will tried to think of more excuses as to why he couldn't accept, shifting restlessly in the bathtub. Why did Hannibal have to ask him now, of all times?. "How do I know you won't just be lying in wait for me there? You could be anyone. I'm not- I don't want you to think that I don't trust you. I shouldn't trust you, but I do and it makes me a fool. I have to look out for myself."

"I would expect nothing less from you, Will. You know my face already, and I will have you know now that my full name is Hannibal Lecter. I have a psychiatry practice in Baltimore. I was born and raised in Lithuania, but am now a naturalized citizen of the United States. I live at-"

"Stop. You don't want to tell me all this stuff."

"I do. Look me up, Will. Read reviews from my patients. Put your mind at ease. Even if you don't wish to go to the house, it would… please me for you to know more about me."

Will sighed and folded his arms over the side of the bath to cushion his chin. He looked directly into the webcam and asked, "What have I done to you, Hannibal? How did I break your walls down so easy? I wasn't even trying."

Hannibal was wistful in his response. "Lovely Will, I wish I knew."


Chapter 2

Will was three hours into the four-hour drive to Hannibal's clifftop house. Still a little cautious, he was allowing himself to stay there for only two nights, though he'd wanted to stay for a week. It was a bright, chilly day, and he was looking forward to the underfloor heating and fresh-baked bread that Hannibal had sent him a photo of that morning.

"I want you to know that I'm bringing my gun with me." It was a challenge to keep the smile out of his voice. Will wasn't quite so worried anymore that this was all some elaborate, long-winded trap, but he enjoyed playing it up. He thought Hannibal liked it too.

"As you should. Your safety is paramount." Hannibal's voice sounded tinny on Will's crappy speakerphone. It would be better when he was at the house and they could speak through webcam like normal.

"And you haven't put secret spy cameras anywhere?"

"Will, please, I would never do something so graceless. Besides, if I want to see you, I need only ask. You always oblige me."

Will huffed a laugh and changed the subject. "What are you up to today, anyway?"

"Not a lot, I suspect. I slept little last night, and woke very early this morning so I could return to Baltimore before you began your journey. I imagine I'll spend most of the day at least semi-horizontal."

"I suppose rubbing yourself over every item of furniture in the house does take it out of you a bit…"

"I did no such thing."

"Mm-hm. I'll let you know later what I think of your scent."

"I look forward to it."

"I bet. I'm not too far away now, so I'll let you go take a nap or whatever and I'll Skype you when I'm all settled in and done snooping. Sound good?"

"Perfect. Enjoy your snooping, my love." Hannibal disconnected the call before Will could respond. My love. He drove the rest of the way to the house in a mild stupor.

Will had seen snippets of Hannibal's Baltimore house, mostly his living room and bedroom in the background of his webcam, but he'd got the impression that it was quite… grandiose and intimidating. The clifftop house was a far cry from that, floor-to-ceiling windows flooding light over mid-century furniture, clean lines and simple blocks of colour. Hannibal being Hannibal, there were several ornamental animal skulls on various shelves and sideboards, but overall it was a free-flowing and uncluttered space.

There were gifts, of course. The dining table overflowed with them.

High-quality toiletries; a thick goose down coat for the bracing cliff-top winds; a heavy cast-iron casserole dish, complete with handwritten recipe cards inside; packs of expensive coffee beans and a bottle of even more expensive whiskey. Practical things.

Another silk robe, this one a deep grey-blue with a subtle geometric pattern interwoven in the fabric; a pretty fan of giftcards for various luxury stores where Will never shopped; a slim silver bracelet that hugged his wrist closely when he slipped it on. Impractical things.

Instead of snooping or unpacking, Will left his bag down by the door and went over to the huge windows to look out over the water. Hannibal's last words to him were churning around in his mind, heavy with terror and excitement.

The idea that Hannibal could love him was absurd. They'd never even met face-to-face, and there were parts of Will's life that he knew nothing about, just as Will was sure that there were many things he didn't know about Hannibal. If Hannibal loved him, it was only a part of him, an idea of Will that he loved. And wasn't that safer? Let Hannibal carry on his fantasy at arm's length.

But perhaps Hannibal had meant it as nothing more than a simple endearment, no different from when he called him lovely Will. People threw around words like that all the time, not meaning anything serious by them.

The thought that Hannibal didn't love him left Will perplexingly bereft. He stayed, staring at the water but not really seeing it, for hours.

The sun was skimming the horizon by the time Will set up his laptop and sent Hannibal a Skype request, oranges and pinks burning down to inky blues across the water. The lights in the house were warm and low, a speck of gold on the dark clifftop.

Hannibal answered the Skype call on the third ring. He was in the living room, shadows swimming on the wall behind him. To Will's utter disbelief, Hannibal was wearing a t-shirt. An expensive-looking t-shirt that was probably made of silk, but a t-shirt nonetheless. Will felt foolishly shy, all of a sudden.

"Lovely Will. I've been waiting for you. How do you like the house?"

"It's beautiful." Nerves were getting the better of him, and Will self-consciously ran a hand through his hair. Light gleamed off the silver bracelet, and he saw Hannibal's eyes sharpen. "Listen… When we spoke earlier, on the drive over, you… said something. To me. About me."

For a second Hannibal looked entirely nonplussed, but understanding dawned quickly, and Will could see the barely-there fall in Hannibal's face as he quickly adjusted his expectations.

"Forgive me. I wasn't thinking. I won't speak of it again. Do you like the bracelet? I had to guess the size, but it seems as though it fits quite well. The robe looks very becoming."

"Hannibal."

He closed his eyes briefly before answering, as if to gather the tatters of his dignity. "Yes, Will?"

"Come to the house."

For once, Hannibal was at a loss for words. Will pressed on. "You called me 'love'. You never say anything carelessly, and I think you meant it. I hope you meant it. You've courted me enough. Come here."

Hannibal groped for something to say. It was true that he'd hoped Will would eventually ask to meet, but he'd not expected it nearly so soon or with such promise behind the words, and he was quite unprepared for the reality of it. He wasn't even dressed appropriately.

As if reading his mind, Will said, "Don't bother putting a suit on, the t-shirt is fine. More than fine, actually. Casual looks good on you. Just, get here. Please."

It ended up taking Hannibal a little over two hours to reach the clifftop house. While he waited, Will used the time to prepare some food. He was under no illusion that Hannibal would want to sit down at the table and have a civilised meal, but he assumed that they'd want something easy to take out of the fridge, afterwards.

The moon hung huge and beautiful in the sky, and Will was gazing at it through the window when he heard the crunch of tyres on gravel. His heart thudded in his chest and he gathered the deep blue robe a little closer around himself, trepidation and excitement making waves in his chest.

Hannibal came up to the glass door and knocked gently. He had keys of his own, but was being careful to give Will every chance to change his mind. Will came to stand on the other side of the door, looking up into his dark and questioning eyes. He'd kept the t-shirt on, with a woolen sweater over the top as a concession to the frosty weather. Will put one hand against the glass, and Hannibal mirrored him helplessly. The moment seemed to stretch out endlessly, each of them breathing heavily either side of the glass, staring through the final frontier.

Then everything was happening at once. Will was flinging the door open, Hannibal's name leaving his lips in a rush, and Hannibal was surging forward to catch Will up in his arms, and they were kissing, they were kissing so desperately and Hannibal tasted so good and Will was so soft… The sea could rise up to swallow them whole and they wouldn't even notice.

Somehow, they made it to the couch. Will's robe fell open to reveal his nakedness as he lay back, but Hannibal was on him before he could get it all the way off. It was too much to be apart for even the brief seconds it would take Hannibal to disrobe, so he opted instead to just shove his trousers down around his thighs. It would be inelegant and messy, but there was time for elegance later.

Will arched up into the warm press of Hannibal's bare skin, digging his fingers into the firm meat of his hips. Hannibal was leaking already, dripping warm and sticky over Will's flushed cock as they rubbed together. Will reached down to take them both in his hand, and Hannibal moaned into his mouth at the pleasure of it. It was enough, absurdly, to drive him to the brink already, and he fought hard against the oncoming tidal wave.

"Will… if you want me to last…"

Will eased up the pace of his strokes and lifted his head to suck a wet mark on to Hannibal's neck. He could taste the tang of anticipation on his skin, the adrenaline that had propelled Hannibal along the dark roads from Baltimore to the clifftop house, the sweat-soaked desire that ran hot through his veins.

Above him, Hannibal was a wreck. His eyelids fluttered and his lips were red-bitten, slack with pleasure and a seemingly never-ending stream of moans. Will had never expected Hannibal to lose his composure so easily. He loved it.

Hannibal could feel the heat coiling in his stomach and the edge of his pleasure rapidly approaching again, even with Will's slow ministrations. He wanted to stretch his enjoyment long into the night, to appreciate every inch of Will twice over at least, so with monumental effort he pulled away and sat back on his knees.

"If you keep up with your wicked hands, this will be over far too soon. Let me take care of you."

Will reached towards him, dragging his fingers over Hannibal's chest. "But I want to feel you…"

"You will." Hannibal kissed him deeply, luxuriously, and gently manoeuvred his hands away. "Keep your hands above your head."

Hannibal watched as Will settled his hands against the armrest, wrists crossed and silver bracelet glinting in the low light. He trailed kisses down Will's chest, lingering over one hard, dusky nipple, until he came to the soft swell of stomach. He paused to look up at Will, and was rewarded with the gratifying sight of deeply flushed cheeks and parted, panting lips. He continued onward, to his hips and the join of his thigh and everywhere except the place Will wanted him most.

Will wasn't one to beg, but he was seriously considering it by the time Hannibal finally, exquisitely applied his clever tongue to the base of his cock, swirling around and then dragging over his balls and up in one long, hot stripe to the head. He wasted no more time after that, swallowing Will down with practised skill and creating the kind of suction that had Will half out of his mind, writhing where he lay and grasping helplessly at the air.

"You can hold onto my hair, if it's easier."

Will looked down at Hannibal, eyes bright and mouth slick with saliva and pre-come. He huffed out something halfway between a wanton moan and a delighted laugh, curled his fingers tight into Hannibal's hair, and pulled.

The house was filled with the wet, filthy sounds of Hannibal's mouth, punctuated by Will's low, sweet moans. The air was heavy with the scent of sex. Will's skin felt hot all over, every touch sparking off him. He felt the familiar liquid heat building within him, fire-hot and overwhelming, and his thighs started to shake around Hannibal's shoulders.

"Hann… I'm gonna-"

Hannibal pulled off immediately and moved up to kiss Will's taste into his mouth. "Not quite yet, lovely Will."

"Fucking… no. I want to come now." Will shot his hand down and gripped Hannibal's cock tightly, eliciting a sharp hiss of pleasure. "I think you want to as well. So fuck me already. We can do it all over again later."

There was no alternate universe where Hannibal would ever, could ever say no to that. He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and pulled out a condom and a small tube of some fancy-looking lubricant. While he tore the packet and tried to roll the condom onto his cock with less-than-steady hands, Will sat up and pressed two of his fingers into Hannibal's mouth.

"Get them nice and wet for me."

Hannibal had no hope in hell of concentrating after that. He just knelt on the sofa, utterly powerless, as Will slipped his fingers between Hannibal's lips again and again. It might've lasted for ten seconds or ten minutes, but eventually Will drew his fingers away and lay back down, trailing his hands along the insides of his thighs and then smearing Hannibal's saliva liberally over his hole.

Eventually, Hannibal managed to regain enough presence of mind to finish rolling the condom onto his cock. Will took the lube from him and squeezed out a generous amount, spreading it thoroughly all over his cock and making Hannibal start to unconsciously rock up into his hand.

The rest of the lube went onto Hannibal's twitching fingers, which Will guided down between his cheeks. Breathing was hard. Looking down at the place where his fingers disappeared inside of Will was harder. He was so hot inside, so slick and pliant, opening for Hannibal beautifully and just begging for more to be put in there.

Hannibal withdrew his fingers and lined himself up at Will's entrance.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes, Hannibal. Yes."

The words barely left Will's lips before Hannibal was pushing in, tight heat clenching around his cock as Will took him, inch by inch. He gripped Will tightly to him and didn't loosen up until he was completely seated inside him. He thrust shallowly at first, testing the angle and trying hard not to completely lose himself to the sensation of being surrounded by Will. He was so tight.

Will canted his hips and wrapped his legs around Hannibal's waist, urging him to move. And move, he did.

Hannibal gathered momentum quickly, holding Will's hip with one strong, hot hand, as he thrust into him relentlessly. Between them, Will's cock was heavy and leaking against his stomach. Will took it in his hand, blindly seeking his own pleasure as Hannibal drove ever onwards towards his.

They kissed messily, bumping noses and chins and gasping on each other's lips when they couldn't kiss any more. Hannibal's rhythm began to falter, his muscles clenching, breathing even more laboured, and Will pushed him off.

"Take it off. Come on me."

Hannibal didn't need telling twice. He pulled the condom off and threw it aside, uncaring where it landed. "Where?" he asked, breathless.

Will was still jerking himself, struggling to hold off. "My cock. Quickly…"

Hannibal collapsed back over Will and stroked himself roughly, Will's tongue sweet in his mouth when he finally spilled himself where he was bid.

The hot, slick fluid coating his cock and running down over his balls sent Will over the edge and he came hard, toe-curlingly, back-archingly, breath-takingly hard.

Neither could speak for a long minute.

"Would you want me to quit? Hotline, I mean."

When they'd recovered and found the strength to get up, Hannibal had finally taken the rest of his clothes off and they'd spent a while washing each other in the huge walk-in shower. Then bed, though sleep was far from their thoughts.

"If you enjoy it, there's no reason why you shouldn't continue." Hannibal took a slightly hesitant pause before he continued. "However, if another customer were to want a more intimate relationship-"

"I can tell you for a fact that is never gonna happen. I have some friends on Hotline who like to let the customers think it's a possibility, you know, to get more money out of a guy. But I don't even do that. Too risky to let them think it could happen."

"You let me think it could happen."

"You were different."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I just…" Will struggled to find the right words. "Got a feeling, I guess," he finished lamely.

The conversation lulled comfortably. Hannibal thought of the breakfast he would bring to Will in bed tomorrow morning, the scrambled eggs and sourdough toast that would go cold while he took him in his mouth and coaxed him to hardness.

Will thought of what life would be like without Hannibal's constant presence in his chatroom. No reason for him to stay now that he had the real thing. He would miss the extra money, but he managed before and he would manage now.

"It'll be weird not having you around, snatching me away from other customers."

"Why wouldn't I be around? Stealing beauty from the ravening horde is a favoured hobby of mine."

"Well… you got me. You don't need to keep on paying to see me. It seems pointless."

"Why can't I have it both ways?" Hannibal gripped Will at the waist and flipped them both over, settling his weight against Will's hips and nuzzling into his neck. "I like to pay."

Fire bloomed in Will's chest.

"And you like to get paid, don't you?"

"I do."