Will stared blandly around the office of his psychiatrist; he felt extremely guilty because he hadn't seen Abigail's struggling or troubles. The darkness of the younger man's mind almost closed off everything around him - he couldn't get entirely lost in his own head while he still felt the presence of the other. He finally looked up at Hannibal.
"How could you and Abigail keep this quiet from me?"
The younger man was shivering in the leather chair now, his emotion running through his veins like electricity. He felt guilt, shame and all above anger. Hannibal, however, felt nothing like quilt, shame or any other emotions at this moment. The only feeling was the lust of passion of an animal who wants to devour his prey. The distraction was gone, and he wanted to get back to where they were. But Will seemed to have lost the mood for now.
"William, I told you the reason before, and I am not willing to repeat myself."
Hannibal came closer to the leather desk chair, where Special Agent Graham was still focusing on things that weren't there. Lecter looked down at him, noting the man's collarbone through his shirt. His thoughts ceased to be clear and his mind wandered off, he ignored Will's voice while his eyes discovered the body of that beautiful man.
He wanted to feel his little prey, bite him in every possible way, devour him here in his office with all the strength he got until all Will would feel and know was him.
"Dr. Lecter..." The younger man's voice finally pulled him back to the present "Let me analyse you, Will." His face was straight, but a little smug smile was playing on his lips. Hannibal rather enjoyed the not-impressed expression on his friend's face.
"No, I ... no I am not letting you psychoanalyze me. You won't like me when I'm psychoanalyzed." His body trembled; he stood up and walked angrily towards the window. Hannibal captured his wrist in his hand and inhaled his feverish scent, then pulled the younger man closer and pushed him back against the desk.
The wood was pressing in Will's thigh - again - and he felt the heat of the Doctor's hands on his arse. "I did not mean that kind of analysis, William." His hands moved towards the chest of the elder man; there was barely any personal space left between them, but he still tried to think. "No.. not that kind f analysis, either," he said with a more or less firm voice while he pushed Hannibal away.
Will did not walk away from the desk and Lecter did not attack his patient again. Will's face was still a mess of emotions and expressions of quilt and shame. "Just tell me what is going on with Abigail." He had no intention of letting this go, he wanted to know what happened.
Hannibal knew that he could not change the younger man's mind this time, so he decided to tell. He sighed. "Abigail Hobbs has nightmares about Nick Boyle and the victims of her dad. They visit her in her dreams, which makes it almost impossible for her to sleep in peace." He looked at the younger men while he took a seat in his desk chair. He continued while his eyes were focused on the fine body that was sitting on his desk.
"I told her to write her nightmares down, so I could analyze them and see what I personally could do for her. But she got scared of them and they got worse, and when that happens she runs towards me so I can catch her." He looked at Will's back, watched his elegant hands grip the sides of the desk.
"I see," the words came out in a small voice "But... Why would she be haunted by them in the first place, it's not like she killed any of them..?" Will did not move or look at Doctor Lecter.
Hannibal swiveled his chair around the desk and looked up at the younger man's confused face. "Will, it is true that she has nothing to do with them, but it is only in the nature for humans to process those things in their dreams."
There was a very long silence between them. "Of course it is," he finally answered, voice out of tune and still full of that fascinating shame.
The younger man walked away and took his jacket from the chair on the other side of the room, his eyes avoided Dr. Lecter. He wanted to leave this room as soon as possible, before it got too dangerous.
"I promised to report to Crawford tonight, so I guess I need to get..." But before he could finish his sentence, his mouth was devoured by soft but demanding lips. He could feel Hannibal's heat pressing through his clothing, and oh how he longed for this - he felt his resolve crumbling like the Berlin Wall. He dropped his jacket on the ground and let his body fill up with animal-like lust for the elder man, for a second time that evening. He felt the hand of Hannibal groping his arse, he wanted more.
Their lips parted, and he could feel the hot breath of Lecter on his skin, panting heavily against his neck. "You were saying, Special Agent Graham..?"