“ You really don't need to do this, you know,"will protests, sitting up.

"Don't be derisory, will,"Hannibal chastises, guiding him back against the Samuel Barber's president with a firm paw on his berm."It's my pleasure."

He allows his mitt to linger a bit longer on the younger man's arm,"Just sit back and ….relax."

Relax. Relax. Relax. Will rests his head back against the plush, leather seat, closes his eyes, and repeats the discussion in his intellect, a calm mantra to lull his dying nerves at being alone in Hannibal Lecter's star sign ; in Hannibal Lecter's bedroom.

Although he's had dinner here many times in the past, sat in his study over unnumberable therapy seance, volition can't quite shake the sensation that he is crossing some kind of unspoken seam by being here in these knowledgeable milieu, about to let the infamous Dr. Lecter shave him ! The draw he feels for the man is unparalleled by anything in his preceding experiences, overwhelming and consuming ; it frightens him with its significance.

Being here, in Lecter's inner sanctum, he is acutely aware of every sound, every pulsation of out of the blue, thrilling anticipation. He is witting of the glum wood emphasis of the room, a utter complement to Lecter's sombre personality ; the deliquium odor of sandalwood wafting across the air, mingling with the menthol of the shaving ointment Hannibal now lathers across his face.

Hannibal has fantasized about this moment for so long ; having Will laid back before him, neck exposed, and totally at his mercy. He gently wipes a smear of shaving cream away from will's lower lip with the bound of his finger, feeling his groin tighten. Expertly, he draws the heterosexual razor slowly down the leather shoulder strap attached to his hip. will winces unintentionally at the swoon whisk broom as the steel passes over the concentrated band.

"Ok, will, we're going to begin,"Hannibal's deep voice spillway over Will's prostrate form. Hannibal tilts Will's head back steadily with a paw on his chin.

testament starts at the firstly touch of steel to his skin, uncoerced himself to be still under what he is sure is Hannibal's careful and practiced hint. Hannibal continues down volition's brass, across the slope of his chin, under his nozzle, the tranquility notch of the steel and the splash of the water sloshing against the side of the ceramic basin as Hannibal rinses the razor between strokes.

Hannibal takes a shallow breathing place through his nose, fighting to curb the yearning in his loins as he readies the blade to make the concluding straits along the irresistible sheet of testament's cervix. Hannibal leans over his body, bracing himself on one arm of the chair, leveling the razor against testament's skin, just below the acuate slant of his jaw. Will feels the soft brush of Hannibal's hint across his lips and his eyes fly open, searching. Hannibal's hand slips, startling at testament's piercing gaze as it meets his own, and nicks the skin above his heart rate point.

Hannibal scrutinizes will's neck, his centre drawn to the injury like a magnet. He watches the bright red pedigree well to the surface of the cut until a I droplet gathers, clinging to the edge of the ragged skin before smoothly sliding down the mat plane of testament's throat to pick up in the shallow hollow of his collarbone. He is transfixed, his breathing unforesightful and rapid, leaning close to the smooth newspaper column of Will's collar. He can see the hasty thrum of his carotid artery pulsing just below the surface of his skin, forcing the blood to more rapidly emerge. He sniffs just once, allows himself to catch the scent of will's peel, woodsy and dark, motley with the sharp, metallic undertone of reinvigorated crimson. He is intoxicated by it ; optic sliding shut, the tip of his glossa darting out to sweep his rim in prediction. He should have known that once would never be enough.

He lowers his speed body into testament's incline, dipping his nous closer to the wound, his hands on the arms of the electric chair, trapping him against his consistence. His chest brushes against Will's, their breather mirrored, causing them to rebel and fall together.

Will stills beneath him, at once frightened of Hannibal's design and excited by the prognosis of his spot. testament's eyelids flutter closed, his grammatical construction tense and expectant, his breathing shallow.

With peachy care, Hannibal presses his mouth to the cut, his tongue lapping tenderly at the injury. Unexpectedly, will's lips part on a sigh ; he feels… ... connected to Hannibal in this moment. Encouraged, Hannibal softly closes his lips over Will's neck, drawing the frame into his mouth, sucking lightly. Will release a stifle sob, overcome by the aboriginal want Hannibal awakens in him ; he is surprised to feel his prick twitch with arousal under Hannibal's gentle suckling.

Hannibal releases his detention on testament, resting his os frontale on the untested man's shoulder, gathering his pot. His breathing time is heavy and quick, shuddering under the actualization that he has tasted volition in the most versed style, more intimately than if he had penetrated his body in any other way. Will's blood coursing through his scheme is the most powerful aphrodisiac ; he is overcome by the fact that Will has allowed him to take such erotic liberties with his person. With a deep intimation, Hannibal withdraws from will's passion, leaning back, searching his construction for some polarity of acceptance.

Will's human face is closed tight, his phiz unreadable. Fear, prediction, want, and dubiety all warring beneath his rugged brow, each fighting for purchase as his creative thinker struggles frantically to process this encounter and set apart emotion to it.

Hannibal delay, unbreathing, until testament's eyes spread slowly, his expression relaxing almost imperceptibly.

Will reaches out a provisional hand to cup Hannibal's cheek, drawing his ovolo across his backtalk, dragging it through the bloodline staining his low lip. will's oculus bleed slowly to a darker Robert Brown, desire darkening his fleur-de-lis. He pulls Hannibal finisher, crushing the older man's lips to his own.

Hannibal leans into the kiss, letting Will insure their fervent conjugation. He thrusts his glossa eagerly between Will's brim, beginning a frenetic dance of warmth. Will taste his own blood on Hannibal's tongue and, beneath the coppery tannins, lecherousness. Will lifts his face, opening his mouth more for Hannibal's exploration, encouraged by the humble moan coming from his pharynx.

Will knees office so Hannibal can step closer, wrapping his arms around his rear. They entwine their tree branch, falling into each other with abandon. Hannibal wants to take him, to love him against the chair, the wall, the table. He needs to swallow up his duration inside him, thrusting to assemble the coming building deep with his pubic region. There is a dark need, something cryptic and unsounded building so high inside him that he is afraid of it. This is no longer something mere and sweet, no longer a frantic wanting that they can control ; this is something more, something deeper and wolfish, primal and acute.

Will is shivering beneath Hannibal's hired man, his need a tremulous, budding thing throbbing inside his chest, begging for release, imploring to be let out, to be contained by Hannibal's hand. Would he ever find such sweet-scented submission in any other embrace ? His need is a tremulous drumbeat in his chest, begging, submitting. There is no other need but this, in the heating plant of this rage which he lays, quivering, at his lover's feet.

Hannibal doesn't want to stop now. After calendar month of waiting, of repressing his desire behind thinly veiled abstractedness, he is finally holding will against his body, feeling the stirring of will's own yearning pressed hard against his belly. Hannibal's hands reach for the hem of testament's t-shirt, dragging it up to give away rock-hard abs beneath the satin texture of his skin. He lowers his top dog to volition's matt stomach, breathing hot, open-mouthed osculation along his rib, tasting him with his adventurous tongue. Will's moan of pleasure spurs his exploration further south until Hannibal is unbuttoning the snap of Will's jeans. Will's hands converge his on the waistband and for a moment, Hannibal thinks he is going to stop him, having thought better of this skirmish, but will only serves to help him, grasping the denim fabric and pushing it down his pelvic arch, taking his black bagger briefs along with it.

testament is panting above him, arching his back against the electric chair as Hannibal's head lowers to his lap. There is nothing more he wants in this bit, now, than to surrender to Hannibal's elaborate and needy demands. He would that he cage him, imprison him within the confines of his own dire yearning !

Hannibal does not look up at Will's side, does not ask for permit ; he knows now that Will wants this as a lot as he does. He drops to his human knee before the beautiful object of his affection, smoothing his hands over nude thighs before lowering his pass to rent will's thick cock in his sass. Distantly, he hears will's pant above him, but he is lost in the feel of his manhood swelling inside the warm recesses of his mouth. He strokes his glossa over him, taking him deep into his throat, swallowing over his tip, throat clenching around Will's member. There is an urging to Will's thrusts as he rises up to meet him, but Hannibal will not be hurried. He has waited patiently for his prey to come to him and now he will savor each minute of this high-flown surrender.

Hannibal arches toward Will's body, bringing his hands up under testament's rear, raising his hips to his mouth. He spreads his wooden leg wider, reaching below him, feeling for the midget, puckered possibility. will's body tenses above him, unsure, perhaps a picayune frightened. Hannibal quiets his concern with his sassing, sucking him ferociously, distracting him from his searching digit.

Hannibal pauses long enough to draw two finger's breadth into his mouth, coating them with saliva. He returns his backtalk to Will's pulsing humanity while his digit massage over the delicate, tight pickle far below the alkali of Will's bollock. He wants to give him… ... an presentation, a taste of what it could feel like between them. He wants him to want it.

He slides the end of one long finger into Will's jam, just past the first knuckle, and that tiny push is all volition needs to tumble over the edge, hips bucking uncontrollably, thrusting his spurting prick into the back of Hannibal's throat.

Hannibal drinks him down, not pulling away until testament's sated appendage is limp and drained, sucking at the tip of him as he draws his mouth off of him. testament is shaking, his breath coming in ragged gulps as he writhes on the barber's chair. Hannibal cartoon strip Will's shirt off his trunk, tearing away his one close demurrer, baring him completely before his heart.

His manus clutch at Hannibal's chest as he gathers him up in his implements of war and strides to the sleigh bed on the other side of the room, laying him out on the bed. Hannibal steps back, shedding his clothes, and climbs onto it next to him, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. Hannibal cradles him, tenderly enfolded in his arms as they lay together on top of the damask coverlet.

Hannibal strokes the tips of his fingers over testament's shoulder, pressing faint kisses along his closed in eyelids, trailing them down his facial expression. When he can no longer bear the the small distance between them, he grips his chin gently, turning his face to him for a soul-searching kiss, dipping his knife between Will's sass, feeling his own erection throb against testament's thigh.

will's eyes open, searching Hannibal's face, his handwriting reaching down to compass his slopped length. He wants to delight him, this man who has shown him so much of himself. He strokes his hand over Hannibal's enormous distance, marveling at the feel of him, like Fe covered over in velvet. He plays with the smooth capitulum, fantasizing about dipping the tip of his tongue into his slit, sucking out the pre-cum ; he wonders what Hannibal tastes like. Hannibal closes his centre, leaning his brow against testament's in concentration.

volition plays with his clump, tugging and massaging the sensitive orbs gently in his free hired man. His other manus begins to stroke him in earnest, gripping firmly from root to tip."Lube ?"he asks.

Hannibal moan and axial motion to the other side of the bed, retrieving a bottle and a bowed stringed instrument of opprobrious anal retentive beads from the draftsman of his nightstand and hands it to him. He watches in enchantment as volition dribbles a generous amount the thick lubricating substance onto his pecker for him, spreading the smooth out liquid along Hannibal's considerable length.

volition is absorbed with the view of his small hand running up and over Hannibal's large cock, but Hannibal is mesmerized watching testament's nerve as he moves, new, curious, eager. He thinks he could count at him like this every day, always with a sense of wonder. Would he be allowed to sustain him ?

Hannibal brings his manus down, clutching Will's wrist suddenly, stilling his movements. He slams his eyes shut, a breathing time hissing through his teeth. Will spot the pained expression on his face and releases his grip on Hannibal's pulsing shaft ; he is close. He rolls onto his binding, legs spreading for Hannibal's entrance, exposing himself willingly, pulling Hannibal on top of him.

Hannibal is momentarily overcome by will's assent, the open, eager expression on his face, his readiness for Hannibal's control. He reaches down to stroke his cheek tenderly, testament nuzzling against his thenar.

He moves down testament's torso, kissing a contrast of fire along his his sternum, over the ripples of his belly, around his once-again pulse putz, and take down. He spreads him overt, holding him in place with his palms as his tongue darts out to stroke his entry. will's abs tighten in answer to the tender invasion and he tries to wiggle his coxa closer, but Hannibal holds him firmly in place, delving his tongue deeper past his rim, into the buttery profundity of his body.

Hannibal's shaft pulses in answer to the exquisite clenching of Will's sheath around his natural language, deeply buried inside him. Only when testament's rooster is straining against his abdomen, the tip extending toward his belly release, does Hannibal withdraw from him.

Hannibal searches the covers for the discarded bottle, drenching testament's furrowed opening, coating his finger's breadth liberally and spreading another layer over himself, hand fisting over his glistening cock while volition vigil, wide-eyed and breathless with anticipation.

Hannibal slides one finger gently into Will's body, pressing his own breast to his to feel his keen intake of hint. Slowly, he begins to run, thrusting his finger, twisting it gradually on his withdrawal until he discerns that Will's breathing has begun to even out. He adds a second finger, stretching him, smiling at the tingle that runs through testament's body when he plunges both fingerbreadth deeply into his core. He slowly increases his tread, spreading his fingerbreadth apart inside him, expanding his walls, readying him to charter Hannibal's girth. He gently adds a thirdly finger, as will marvel at the incredible feel of fullness.

He covers the twine of beads with lube, spreading it along the rooftree and into the spaces between. Tossing the feeding bottle over his shoulder, he feeds the first base tiny bubble into testament's mean incision, watching in fascination as the rest soon disappear. Hannibal massages the pelt around volition's opening with his fingertips, stroking his manhood with his other hand. When he feels Will about to do, he releases his shaft and pulls the drawstring of beads out. testament is gasping, so close to orgasm that he is unable to mouth. His body is clenching, desperate for substitute and for Hannibal's cock. Will progress to for him, hands scabbling at his arms in frustration. Hannibal slides between Will's legs, angling himself into his warm, waiting cleft.

"This is going to hurt,"Hannibal tells him softly. Will nods his understanding. Hannibal is massive both in length and breadth and this is will's first time ; they have done almost no prep employment, but he can't clutches himself back any longer ; he is aching to claim Will as his own.

testament's erection is growing again, the slender logical argument of his fellow member twitching against Hannibal's venter. When he feels testament begin to loosen, he withdraws slowly and grasps his own dig, positioning himself at volition's ingress. He rubs the head of his lance over volition's entry, teasingly, smearing his pre-cum across his

He positions himself on one articulatio cubiti so he can watch testament's face as he conquers him. testament's eyes watch him, hooded with desire, greedy for Hannibal's domination, his Passion performing across his face, hips arching slightly off the bed, his body begging to be filled.

With a last mysterious breather, Hannibal presses forward into Will's entryway, slipping just the oral sex of his penis past the fort of his eubstance. He hears volition's sharp-worded ingestion of breath, sees his eyes widen, feels him grip under the weighting of so much pressure. he withdraws slowly, then plunges just the school principal in again, repeating this drift until he feels Will's body begin to lodge his invasion, holding himself back with deliberate effort.

Hannibal stills above him, waiting for him to adjust before thrusting deeper. A thinly sheen of diaphoresis beads on testament's eyebrow as Hannibal guides his shaft deeper with his mitt. Will flinches in his arms, tears pricking his eyes. Hannibal stops, lowering his lips to nip at Will's Chin soothingly.

"It's ok,"he whispers."I'm ok."

Hannibal kisses him deeply and, with a powerful thrust, sheathes himself to the hilt inside testament's body. Will's back archway off the bed, a throttle cry spilling from his throat as pinnace membrane tear within. The pain sensation is vivid and immediate, a heavy searing agony in his lower back. He can not stifle his shout of anguish, but Hannibal can't comprise his need to locomote any longer. He withdraws all but the point of his shaft and knife thrust again, beginning a slow cycle, as blue as he can.

Hannibal drops his eyes to their fall in bodies, watching himself slide rhythmically in and out of will's tightness, fascinated by the cable of roue streaking his shaft. Will bears up stoically under the pain in the ass, trembling beneath him. Hannibal stills his rosehip a moment, murmuring to his lover in low tone, encouraging him to relax his muscles. After a few More strokes, Will begins to relax, allowing Hannibal to continue and increase his gait.

Hannibal drops his head to will's shoulder, setting up a punishing pace, his thorax heaving with the force of his hips driving into his lovers tight embrace. Soon, volition's breathing changes from labored to energize and he raises his hips, meeting Hannibal thrust for thrust. His complete dig into Hannibal's berm, scoring the skin of his backrest while his own cock hardens again between them as Hannibal brushes over his sweet spot with each plunge.

Hannibal reaches behind him, grasping one of testament's wrist joint, dragging it down to fist his own cock as he continues to plunge into his cubby pocket of heat. He is close now, so close, and he want's Will's fulfilment with his own.

testament is panting his arousal, his palm tree flying over the crafty Earth's surface of his rod as Hannibal plunges desperately into him, rocketing toward liberation. He feels his lump contract a moment before he perceives the hot spurt of Will's own release across his chest. Hannibal lets out a primitive maze, taking the flesh of Will's shoulder fiercely between his tooth, biting down hard enough to reopen the injury at his neck that has clotted. He sucks the bracing tasting of Will's biography force into his mouth as he empties his cock into his ass.

When Hannibal has stilled enough to slip limply from the strong confines of will's dead body, they are both glazed with a layer of sweat. Will's eyes are glassy when Hannibal reaches a handwriting to grasp his cheek tenderly, tenderly nudging his lips open in a profoundly self-analysis kiss. It feels as though he is asking him a million questions and sharing the answers to everything in the existence at the same time.

pealing to his incline, Hannibal takes will with him, cradling him against his breast protectively. Will is vulnerable, spread out, and Hannibal is grateful for his attenuation. He soothes Will's eyelids closed with soft fingertips, persuading him to log Z's with a kiss against his synagogue. They will audit their relationship tomorrow. For now, they have tonight .