Hannibal wasn't obsessive and compulsive, right? Far from it, he knew very well how to control his thoughts and impulses, always using temperance when meeting his needs.
So why did he felt this way around him?
Possessiveness came to him in waves as he looked at Will asleep on his couch. The poor man had come for another one of his psychiatric sessions but, due to the constant nightmares and sleepless nights, he had fallen asleep without even realizing it. A sigh escaped Hannibal's lips due to how vulnerable Will looked before him. It would be so easy to tear off those beautiful lips with his teeth, savoring every tiny morsel as if it were a luxurious food. Will's taste must be fantastic. Unique and delicious like Will himself.
Hannibal couldn't control himself and came closer, kneeling next to the couch. The thought of him kneeling to someone sent a shiver down his spine and soon gave way to other thoughts about how willing he would be to kneel to Will on another occasion. His fingers flew as delicately as possible to Will's neck. How beautiful he would look if Hannibal squeezed this and choked him to the point where he was writhing under his hands. His pale skin would turn pink and then purple with finger marks, contrasting wonderfully with his eyes.
His hand wandered to his hair and Hannibal remembered all the times he had induced seizures in Will. Honestly, it was his favorite moment; the fact that he could touch Will during his seizures made him feel powerful. He traced his jaw, feeling his stubble beard.
Yes, he was really obsessed.
That feeling was new and Hannibal felt like it was eating away at his soul, if he had one. He allowed himself to caress Will's face and neck absently and didn't notice when he opened his eyes.
"Hannibal?" Will asked, a little scared, his voice hoarse. Hannibal froze for a few milliseconds. He looked at Will with his usual blank, enigmatic gaze.
"Stay quiet. This is part of the therapy."
Hannibal's fingers dug into the soft skin of his neck and Will felt strange. That wasn't right.
Before he could protest, both of Hannibal's hands were around his throat, squeezing. He felt the oxygen running out and tried to fight, which was in vain because Hannibal pinned him to the couch with his own body.
Will stopped fighting and just let it happen. Strangely, the lack of air was less disturbing than the feeling of the other man's body against his own. He had never been touched like that and it made excitement hit him like a tsunami. This was so wrong. He shouldn't feel good while he was being strangled, but he did. This was just another dark nightmare that he would keep at the bottom of his memory box with his dreams.
Will felt the weight of Hannibal's body leave him and his hands leave his throat and he sucked in a shaky breath.
"What the hell was that?" he managed to speak, still panting.
"A test," Hannibal muttered, standing and straightening his suit. "Why did not you resist?"
"I tried!" Will sat on the couch in disbelief, looking at him as if he were an alien and not the same doctor as always.
"You did not try hard enough," he looked him straight in the eyes, trying to maintain the contact that Will vehemently avoided. "I know you, Will. You wouldn't sit still while someone tried to strangle you."
Will came to the conclusion that Doctor Lecter's therapy sessions were becoming increasingly unorthodox, and he didn't know how he felt about that.
"I knew you wouldn't kill me," Will tried to justify, but even he didn't know for sure why he didn't continue to try to fight Hannibal. "Now I'm not so sure."
Something in Hannibal lit up at those words, and he felt extremely powerful. "Do you trust me, Will?"
Will wanted to think about it more, but the words escaped his mouth as if they had a life of their own. "I do."
Hannibal approached, his left hand flying to Will's cheek possessively, but with a certain gentleness. He brushed his fingers through his stubble, feeling the sweet adrenaline rush through his veins.
"I know a relaxation method that will make you sleep better," he said shamelessly.
"And what is this method?" Will already had something in mind, but all his neurons told him that it wasn't real. He swallowed hard and didn't move an inch, curious to know what would happen next.
"I think you already know, Will. But let me show you. Stand up."
The psychiatrist's tone was firm, and Will saw no alternative but to obey him. Result: Hannibal got so close to him that their chests were touching. Will felt the urge to run, but now it was too late and Hannibal had already grabbed him by the back of the neck.
"Relax, Will. I would never hurt you." Hannibal's voice took on such a sweet tone that Will felt dazed, his brain trying to process what was happening and his heart almost falling out of his chest. Before he knew it, Hannibal's mouth was on his neck, kissing and nibbling.
This made a signal appear in Will's mind and he quickly - and without thinking - grabbed Hannibal by the lapels and spun him around, slamming him hard against the wall. He stood there, staring at the psychiatrist as if he could see through his soul, and he noticed the flash of something different in Hannibal's eyes as he held him pressed against the wall.
"C'mon. You know you've wanted to do this for a while, Will."
That was enough. Will muttered an "arrogant bastard" and sealed the space between them, which Hannibal eagerly responded to. His mouth tasted like strawberries and liquor, and Will felt dizzy.
They were actually doing it.
Hannibal's hand moved to the back of his neck again, deepening the kiss. Their tongues intertwined, but that wasn't enough for him. Hannibal bit down hard on Will's lower lip and felt the blood flow; which was just no more pleasant than the groan of pain that escaped Will's throat. Will instinctively thrust his hips against Hannibal's, feeling the hardness there beginning to form.
From then on, Will's brain starts to get scrambled, denying any logical thought other than what he was doing now with Hannibal. All he remembers is that suddenly they were on Hannibal's bed, struggling to get each other's clothes off.
As soon as Will's shirt came off, Hannibal leaned down predatorily and licked the line from neck to shoulder, only to bite right after, making Will squirm.
Knowing he could get that kind of reaction out of Will, Hannibal was fascinated and continued biting and sucking every inch of the neck possessively, pushing his still clothed hips against the other man's. Will grunted and pulled off Hannibal's shirt, his nimble fingers moving quickly to the fly of his pants, his mind clouded by the fog of lust.
He was completely frustrated when Hannibal stopped him.
"You are my patient. Let me take care of you," he said low and dangerously.
Will wasn't used to letting other people take control for him, but damn, this was Hannibal, his friend. His best friend, he reflected.
And here he was, potentially ruining this friendship due to lust.
"Fuck it," Will muttered to himself, relaxing and letting Hannibal take control.
Hannibal propped himself up on his arms to look down at Will below him. He looked at every part, every tiny detail of Will's body minutely, painting a picture of that moment in his brain. He would place it on the central wall of the hall of his Memory Palace. Hannibal moved his hands down his back, to the fly of his pants. He undid it and slowly pulled his pants and underwear down, reveling in the sight. It was as if he was worshiping Will's body.
"Hannibal, what are you doing?" Will asked softly as Hannibal moved so his head was level with Will's crotch. He couldn't believe Hannibal would do that.
"Let me take care of you," Hannibal repeated in a whisper, like a prayer, before lowering his head and taking Will's dick in his mouth.
Will whimpered silently, his hands flying to Hannibal's hair and, without thinking, he pushed against Hannibal's mouth. Hannibal, however, accepted the intrusion into his throat with elegance, taking it deep and not even choking.
"Hannibal, stop!" Will whimpered after a few thrusts and left Hannibal by his hair.
"What?" His voice was husky and it was possibly the sexiest thing Will had ever heard.
"I know a way to do this better," his eyes stared at Hannibal's tight pants in a silent request for him to take them off.
A mischievous smile painted Hannibal's face as he removed the rest of his clothes.
"Let me do it," he murmured, licking his hand sensually and closing his hand around both of their cocks.
Will moaned and thrust into the hot, tight circle, making a lovely friction. He was so focused on the pleasure that he didn't even see Hannibal break the skin on his neck with a predatory, possessive bite.
Their bodies moved together, in increasingly faster and sloppier movements, and Hannibal repeated Will's name quietly in a plea, wanting more and more. He didn't just want Will's body, he wanted to see him; and he wanted Will to see him too. Body and soul.
The thought made Hannibal groan silently and push harder and harder, planting kisses along the other man's jaw. "Come for me, Will."
That did it. Will's body arched and he moaned loudly, clinging to Hannibal as if he were afraid he would disappear, making Hannibal come soon after.
The warm, soft sheets were pulled away and Will was destroyed. "What the hell did we just do?"
"Therapy," was the simple and direct answer he received.
He turned to the side, thoughtful, arousing Hannibal's curiosity. "Is there any problem?"
But he got no response.
When Hannibal woke up, Will was no longer there.