WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT. (Basically, what everyone's been waiting for) BUT IF YOU WANT TO SKIP THIS CHAPTER, YOU WON'T MISS MUCH. THERE IS A SUMMARY AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER.
Will wakes around seven to something warm and soft on the back of his neck. He sighs, contented, and opens his eyes. How he missed the fingers in his hair, he'll never know.
"Oh. You're awake," Hannibal says. He leaves his hand in Will's hair a moment longer. "Are you hungry?"
"'M always hungry," Will mumbles before rolling out of Hannibal's grasp. He stretches once he's on his feet, idly scratching his stomach.
Hannibal chuckles and stands up. He straightens the wrinkles in his suit that came from sleeping in it. "I'll go make something quick. Please come with me. There's something I'd like to talk to you about."
Will yawns as he follows Hannibal to the kitchen. He wonders, as any person would, what will be served. It could be a stack of 99-cent burgers from the joint at the center of town and he'd still be happy. Not that Hannibal would ever do that, of course, but it's just a thought.
Actually, it's a really funny thought and Will can't help but laugh. He doubles over, clutching his sides until there are tears in his eyes.
"What is the matter, dear Will?" Hannibal stops and turns around.
Will holds up a finger and tries to stop laughing long enough to explain what's so funny. It takes a solid minute before he trusts himself to speak. "I just had a thought of you serving 99-cent burgers for dinner." He cracks up again though the ache in his abdominal muscles protests the action.
"I'm glad you find such amusement in an event that will never happen." But Hannibal's smiling when he says it. "Come on. Let's get you into a chair before you hurt yourself from laughing so hard." He assists Will to the kitchen.
"What was it you wanted to talk about, Doctor Lecter?" Will asks once he can properly breathe.
"I was hoping to discuss the current situation." Hannibal takes a package of something from the fridge and places it on the counter top. Closer inspection reveals two very large mushroom tops.
"You mean the kiss and all." The brief memory flashes in Will's mind, and he's filled with something he can't identify. Mostly it feels like happiness. Will can live with that.
"Yes. Why do you think it happened?" Hannibal forces eye contact. "In your own opinion, of course."
"It happened because I panicked and you let it." Will's snappy, and he can't decide if he means it or not.
"You might have panicked, yes, but I didn't simply let it happen. If I was just letting it happen, do you think I would have kissed you back?"
Will breaks the gaze, looks down at his hands. "No," he mumbles. "I wasn't in the right state of mind, and it shouldn't have happened like that."
"Then, if I may ask, how do you think it should have happened?" Hannibal wipes his hands on a towel that he tosses over his shoulder. He turns to face Will.
It isn't until he's standing in front of Hannibal that Will realizes he's moved from the chair. His eyes lock with the doctor's; he searches for any sort if indication of the other man's thoughts. There's nothing, and Will isn't sure why he expected anything different.
"It was supposed to happen like this, Doctor Lecter." Will leans forward slowly, leaving plenty of opportunity for Hannibal to push him away, to press his mouth to the other's.
The kiss is soft and short, not like the first. Hannibal doesn't kiss back immediately this time, leaving control in Will's possession. Will moves away after a second because he doesn't want to push comfort boundaries.
"It was supposed to be just like that, right here in the kitchen," Will says, a little breathless. "Well, there's more, but I'll leave it at that."
"Let me make dinner, then tell me all about it." Hannibal runs his fingers through the other man's hair.
"Yeah. Okay." Will goes back to the chair and sits. He doesn't pay attention to what's going on, the kiss playing over and over in his head. If only all kisses were that good...
The rest of the fantasy comes along after the fourth repeat: Hannibal taking control and pinning Will against the counter top. It sends a shiver down Will's spine. He shifts in the chair and hopes it will become reality at some point.
"Will?" Hannibal's voice bleeds into Will's thoughts. "Are you with me, Will?"
Will snaps back to reality, leaving the fantasy in his thoughts where it belongs. "Yeah. I was just thinking. That's all."
"If you'll join me in the dining room, we can talk about it." Hannibal carries out two plates of steaming something-or-other and Will follows
After they're seated, Hannibal prompts Will to talk about the kiss. Will does so between bites and sips of wine.
"Well, it starts like I just showed you." Will scratches his head, embarrassed. "Uh. This gets kind of long. You may want to eat first so your food doesn't get cold." Will shoves a bite of mushroom into his mouth and chomps down sharply to avoid speaking.
"We can eat while you talk," Hannibal says, seeing straight through Will. "I assure you, nothing you say will be shocking to me."
Will clears his throat, sips his wine. "Well. Okay. So after the first time in the kitchen, we stay that way for a minute. But then, uh, I grab onto your arms and kiss you again. You put your hands on my shoulders." Another sip of wine to calm his pulse. Will looks at Hannibal to see the man's reaction.
"What happens next?" Hannibal brings a bite of lettuce to his lips, analytical as ever.
"After that, you flip me so my back is against the counter and I'm in your place." Will's flushed, and it is certainly not the work of the alcohol (though it does help). He shifts again to get comfortable. It doesn't work, so he resorts to the scratching thing.
"And then what?"
Will stalls again, shoving more mushroom into his mouth. He takes his time chewing because the next part is awkward and embarrassing and way more arousing than it should be. "Then, uh... you... God, I can't believe I'm saying this. I never thought I'd have to say this. Ever. Then you dominate me right there. You make me completely yours." He coughs, face redder than the wine in his glass. That was the most awkward conversation in the history of Will's awkward conversations.
"I see." Hannibal inhales deeply. "Are you finished with your dinner?"
Will nods. "Yeah. I'll help with the dishes."
"Are you sure I can trust you in the kitchen?" Hannibal chuckles and pushes away from the table.
"I can control myself, Doctor Lecter." Will laughs too, and carries his plate to the kitchen.
Hannibal goes with Will to the sink. "Should we take dessert here? Or should we eat by the fire?"
"It depends on where you'd like." Will puts his dirty dishes in the sink and runs water over them. He takes Hannibal's and does the same, washing them while Hannibal's gets the dessert from the fridge.
"Let's sit by the fire," the psychiatrist says. "It's a bit too cold in the dining room"
"Okay. Let me finish rinsing these dishes and I'll be right there."
"Don't worry about them. My household chores are not yours to do." Hannibal motions with his elbow to come on.
"True, but I think it's impolite." Will dries his hands after unplugging the sink drain. He scurries off after Hannibal to find him already in the living room.
There's a table set in front of the fireplace, along with the loveseat from near the wall. Two plates, neatly covered with the finest chocolate mousse cake, are on the table. It looks amazing as always.
"I'd like to ask you something, Will, and I need an honest answer," Hannibal says once they're seated and eating.
"Can I kiss you first?" Will asks sheepishly.
It's like a new addiction, kissing Hannibal. But Will doesn't care.
"If you would like to, I see no reason to deny you." Hannibal places his spoon on the empty plate and turns to Will.
The kiss is almost desperate, like Hannibal is a floatation device in a stormy ocean and Will's fighting to keep hold of it. He grabs at Hannibal and clings, savoring the taste of chocolate in their breath.
"That was good," Will whispers when they separate. "Anyway, what was your question?"
"Well, obviously there is attraction between us, and it's mutual," Hannibal says. "I thought there was only one solution to the situation. Would you like to be my partner?"
It takes a second for it to dawn on Will. "You mean, like, dating?"
"Something like that, yes." Hannibal cautiously places a hand on Will's face.
"Isn't that against protocol or something?" Will covers Hannibal's hand with his own, leans into the touch.
"What do you mean?" Hannibal frowns slightly.
"I'm a patient, Doctor Lecter." Dejection creeps into Will's voice. He tries to swallow it down, but it's too late.
"Not of the conventional type, and not officially." Hannibal punctuates his sentences with kisses. "And if all else fails, we can keep it a secret."
Will takes a very long handful of minutes thinking about the offer. Hannibal's right, though. They wouldn't be doing anything wrong.
But what would Crawford and the rest of the team think? Who cares what they think, Will says to himself.
"I haven't been in a real relationship in years, but I'll try if you'll help with my lack of skills," Will finally says with a smile.
"You'll have to tell me when something makes you uncomfortable. Well, we'll discuss rules and boundaries later. For now, I'll take care of the dishes and we can sit awhile." Hannibal strokes Will's cheek with his thumb. "I'll be right back."
Will curls up in Hannibal's vacated spot and waits for him to come back. He watches the fire as it leaps and twists against the logs. It's oddly hypnotic to watch the flames dance, and somehow, it reminds Will of Hannibal.
"May I have my seat back, please?" Hannibal puts his hand lightly on Will's head.
"And why should I let you?" Will counters with a grin.
"Because if you don't, I'm left with two options, and I don't know that you'll like either of them." Hannibal grins back. "One, I can sit on your head, which will be very uncomfortable for you, or I can just kick you and all your dogs out and never allow you back here again. Or, the pleasant alternative, you just sit up and give me my place back. It's your choice."
Will doesn't relent immediately. He crosses his arms as a test, but he's too tired to really tease back. "Okay, fine. You win." He moves so Hannibal can sit. After the other man's seated, Will puts his head in his lap.
Hannibal plays with the thick curls until Will rolls onto his back. "Tell me, Will, in your fantasies, how do I dominate you?"
The sound that comes from Will's mouth is somewhere between a cough and the word 'gack,' almost like he's choking. "I thought we were done talking about that." He scowls.
"Call it curiosity. I really do want to know."
"Um." Will huffs. "Well, you lick and suck and bite. Everywhere you can reach, from my neck to my ankles. I'm covered in your markings by the time you're done. Sometimes you scratch, too."
Something in Hannibal's eyes darkens. "Really now?"
Will flushes. "Yeah." He covers his face with his hands.
"Do not be ashamed. It's perfectly natural."
"I know, I know," Will groans. "It's just awkward as hell."
Hannibal uncovers the red face hidden by hands. "Don't let it be awkward, Will. It happens to everyone."
"I'm tired. Is it bedtime yet?" Will shifts to alleviate the sudden pressure in his jeans.
"Go ahead on up. I'll rearrange this room before I come up. It should be no more than ten minutes. Fifteen at the very most." Hannibal brings Will's hand to his face, kisses slightly callused fingertips that smell faintly of metal.
Will rolls gracelessly from the couch, flopping on to his hands and knees to keep from faceplanting in the carpet. "Smooth, Will," he mutters to himself before making his way up to the bedroom.
He can hardly keep his eyes open to undress himself. The red lines from throughout the day glare in the dim light of the bedroom. Will goes over them again, the dull red springing to life again.
After that, it's all routine: wash face, brush teeth. One last bladder release before bed. Satisfied, Will crawls into the bed to wait for Hannibal. The mattress welcomes him like it's where he belongs.
The last thing Will registers is a soft goodnight kiss before his eyes droop closed for the night.
When Will opens his eyes again, he's in the kitchen. He glances around for Hannibal and finds him near the counter drying dishes. Will laughs at himself for expecting the man to be anywhere but the kitchen.
"Hello, Will," Hannibal says and turns around.
Will doesn't respond, just rushes forward and claims the doctor's mouth with bruising force. It comes as no surprise to Hannibal, who kisses back with equal force and need. The kiss isn't a kiss so much as it's a clash of teeth and tongue and lips. But it isn't enough for Will.
He presses himself flush against Hannibal, standing on the balls of his feet to get a better angle. His balance falters when he leans too far, dangerously close to hurting Hannibal should he fall. A surge of adrenaline and panic. Hurting Hannibal is the last thing Will wants to do.
Will reaches out to stop himself before he bends Hannibal over backwards. He grips the muscles of the taller man's arms, digs his fingers in just a little bit. Oh, yeah. That's good. Will moans into Hannibal's mouth when he feels hands at his hips.
The flip takes him completely by surprise. Will gasps when the edge of the counter digs into his spine. Hannibal moves away for a moment of catching breath.
"Please," Will pants, now aware of the constricting grip of his jeans. He has no idea what he wants Hannibal to do, as long as it's something and it happens soon.
Hannibal's body heat floods through Will where they touch. Will lets out a low groan when teeth graze the skin of his throat.
"Is this what you want, Will? Me to mark you as mine?" Hannibal purrs, trailing long fingers to the buttons of Will's shirt.
"Yes." Will rolls his hips up to find friction in the closeness of bodies. "I want you. Make me yours."
Hannibal does the buttons painfully slowly. He works through them one at a time, never pushing the fabric away. It's stupid how calculated each little movement is, Will thinks.
"Need you… now." It's hardly more than a breath, a whisper only Hannibal can hear. Only meant for Hannibal to hear.
Will ruts shamelessly against the psychiatrist's leg, desperate to find release. It isn't the same as direct contact, but it'll do for now.
Hannibal bites down sharply on the meat of Will's shoulder and the metallic scent of blood fills the air. Will groans when Hannibal sucks at the wound, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. It's unlike anything will has ever felt; he isn't sure if that's a good thing or not.
The slow burning beginning in Will's stomach is a good thing. Its heat spreads through his limbs, so close to the end…
Hannibal grips his jaw tightly, forcing eye contact. There's blood in the corners of his mouth. Will wants to lick it off, but he can't move. His eyes meet Hannibal's, the darkness within them a bit startling.
"Hannibal," Will groans. The heat has spread to the tips of his fingers and toes. Right there on the edge.
Will's climax is violently ripped away when he wakes up in the dark of Hannibal's room, breathing heavily. He's sweated through another shirt, the thought of which is less than appealing, and feels generally gross. Damn it.
"Are you awake now, Will?" Hannibal asks softly, no doubt reaching for the lamp. He sounds like he's been awake for a while.
"Oh, God. Did I wake you up?" Will pushes himself into a sitting position, kicking away sheets and blankets. Every inch of fabric sticks to his skin and it's disgusting.
When he moves, a thick bitter smell fills the air and he feels like gagging. Ugh. Hannibal seems to enjoy it, though.
"I thought you were having another episode," Hannibal says. "I was ready to wake you up." He tosses the covers away, throwing them down to the floor. "Oh, dear. There's more than I thought there was. I'll go get a rag."
Will looks where Hannibal was, confused as to why a rag would be necessary. The sticky mess of white answers the question. Those generally don't clean themselves up. Realization dawns on Will.
"I am so sorry that happened," Will says when Hannibal returns with two wet cloths. "Why didn't you wake me up?"
The word 'embarrassed' was invented for similar situations, but it isn't enough for Will. Maybe 'mortified' is a better word. That's never happened before.
"I didn't know how you would have reacted," Hannibal says as he mops up the mess in his bed. "And I found it slightly amusing."
"Amusing?!" Will splutters. White rage burns in his veins.
"I don't mind you doing that, you know. Just make sure you're awake next time. Here. Clean yourself." He hands Will the clean rag.
Will mutters apologies the entire time he wipes himself off. He apologizes for everything from failing to clean up the yard to ruining now two sets of fine silk sheets.
Hannibal puts his finger on Will's lips to silence him. "If I was worried about any of this, I would have already sent you packing. "It's just a small mess, and bound to happen sooner or later."
"At least let me pay to replace one set," Will protests.
"Will, hush. I won't allow it. Come on. I'll wash the bedding in the morning. We'll sleep in the other room tonight." Hannibal holds out a hand for the rag.
"I'll go change really quick. There's no point sleeping in soiled clothing." Will pads down the hallway into the guest room to take off the sticky, nasty fabric.
He waits for Hannibal before he gets into the bed. The sheets have been changed since last night, the sweat stain covered. Hannibal arrives shortly after Will is finished changing and motions for Will to get into bed.
"I'll take care of the laundry tomorrow," he says. "For now, let us sleep."
Snuggled in comfortably, Hannibal pulls the blanket up to their shoulders. He kisses Will goodnight and turns off the light. Will doesn't dream again.
SUMMARY: Hannibal and Will kiss a lot. They eat, too. Um… let's see. Hannibal asks Will out, Will says yes. They go to bed. There's some sexual content here. They go sleep in the other bed. The end.
A/N: I'd like to thank everybody who read, commented, followed, and favorited. If you liked this one, please watch for the sequel, Hannibal Lecter's On Unconventional Methods of Therapy, within the next two weeks.