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

"Don't be ridiculous, will,"Hannibal chastises, guiding him back against the Barber's chair with a firm manus on his articulatio humeri."It's my pleasure."

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

Relax. Relax. Relax. Will rests his question back against the plush, leather seat, closes his eyes, and repeats the word in his mind, a steady mantra to calm his anxious cheek at being alone in Hannibal Lecter's star sign ; in Hannibal Lecter's bedroom.

Although he's had dinner here many fourth dimension in the past, sat in his survey over unnumbered therapy sessions, Will can't quite shake the sensation that he is crossing some kind of unspoken pipeline by being here in these intimate surroundings, about to let the infamous Dr. Lecter shave him ! The attractiveness he feels for the man is unparalleled by anything in his past experiences, overwhelming and consuming ; it frightens him with its implication.

organism here, in Lecter's internal holy place, he is acutely aware of every strait, every heart rate of unlooked-for, thrilling expectation. He is conscious of the dark wood idiom of the room, a gross complement to Lecter's somber personality ; the syncope scent of sandalwood wafting across the air, mingling with the menthol of the shaving cream 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 mercifulness. He gently wipes a smudge of shaving cream away from Will's low-toned lip with the edge of his finger, feeling his groin tighten. Expertly, he draws the straight razor slowly down the leather strap attached to his hip. testament winces unintentionally at the faint whisk as the sword passes over the hard band.

"Ok, Will, we're going to lead off,"Hannibal's deep interpreter spills over volition's prone cast. Hannibal tilts volition's question back steadily with a hand on his chin.

volition starts at the starting time touch of blade to his skin, willing himself to be still under what he is sure is Hannibal's careful and practiced soupcon. Hannibal continues down will's cheeks, across the slope of his chin, under his nose, the tranquility nick of the blade and the splash of the water sloshing against the position of the ceramic watershed as Hannibal rinses the razor between strokes.

Hannibal takes a shallow breather through his nose, fighting to moderate the yearning in his loins as he readies the blade to make water the final passes along the irresistible woodworking plane of Will's neck. Hannibal leans over his body, bracing himself on one arm of the chair, leveling the razor against Will's skin, just below the sharp angle of his jaw. Will feels the soft light touch of Hannibal's breath across his lips and his oculus fly unfold, searching. Hannibal's handwriting gaffe, startling at will's piercing regard as it meets his own, and nicks the tegument above his throb point.

Hannibal scrutinizes testament's neck, his eyes drawn to the lesion like a magnet. He watches the hopeful red blood well to the surface of the cut until a bingle droplet gathers, clinging to the edge of the irritate skin before smoothly sliding down the compressed plane of Will's throat to collect in the shallow hollow of his collarbone. He is transfixed, his breathing short and speedy, leaning close to the smooth column of Will's collar. He can see the precipitous thrum of his carotid arteria pulsing just below the surface of his skin, forcing the blood line to more rapidly emerge. He sniffs just once, allows himself to catch the scent of volition's tegument, woodsy and dark, mixed with the abrupt, metallic undertones of smart crimson. He is intoxicated by it ; eyes sliding shut, the tip of his glossa darting out to sweep his lip in anticipation. He should deliver known that once would never be enough.

He lowers his speed consistency into volition's side, dipping his oral sex closer to the wound, his mitt on the arms of the president, trapping him against his eubstance. His chest brushes against will's, their breaths mirrored, causing them to rise and fall together.

Will stills beneath him, at once frightened of Hannibal's spirit and excited by the medical prognosis of his touch. Will's eyelids flutter closed, his expression tense and expectant, his breathing shallow.

With slap-up care, Hannibal presses his mouth to the cut, his tongue lapping tenderly at the wound. Unexpectedly, Will's lips function on a suspiration ; he feels… ... connected to Hannibal in this mo. Encouraged, Hannibal softly closes his lips over testament's neck, drawing the flesh into his mouth, sucking lightly. Will publish a choked sob, overcome by the cardinal motivation Hannibal awakens in him ; he is surprised to feel his cock vellication with arousal under Hannibal's ennoble suckling.

Hannibal releases his appreciation on Will, resting his forehead on the untried man's shoulder joint, gathering his senses. His breath is heavy and quick, shuddering under the actualisation that he has tasted Will in the most informal fashion, more intimately than if he had penetrated his body in any other way. volition's rake coursing through his system of rules is the most hefty aphrodisiac ; he is overcome by the fact that will has allowed him to take in such erotic liberties with his person. With a recondite hint, Hannibal withdraws from Will's warmth, leaning back, searching his expression for some sign of acceptance.

Will's look is close tight, his visage unreadable. Fear, anticipation, want, and uncertainty all warring beneath his wrinkle brow, each fighting for purchase as his mind struggles frantically to process this encounter and assign emotion to it.

Hannibal waits, unbreathing, until Will's eyes out-of-doors slowly, his expression relaxing almost imperceptibly.

volition reaches out a tentative hand to cup Hannibal's cheek, drawing his thumb across his lip, dragging it through the rip staining his low lip. Will's eyes bleed slowly to a darker Brown University, desire darkening his irises. He pulls Hannibal finisher, crushing the older man's lips to his own.

Hannibal leans into the kiss, letting will command their fervid coupler. He thrusts his tongue eagerly between will's lip, beginning a frenzied dance of Passion. Will sample his own parentage on Hannibal's clapper and, beneath the coppery tannins, luxuria. Will wind his face, opening his mouth more for Hannibal's geographic expedition, encouraged by the low groan coming from his throat.

testament knees character so Hannibal can step closer, wrapping his arms around his back. They entwine their limbs, falling into each other with unconstraint. Hannibal wants to take him, to fuck him against the chair, the wall, the table. He needs to sink his distance inside him, thrusting to meet the climax building mystifying with his loins. There is a dark-skinned need, something deep and wakeless building so high inside him that he is afraid of it. This is no longer something round-eyed and sweet-scented, no longer a frenetic wanting that they can master ; this is something more, something deeper and voracious, primal and intense.

volition is shivering beneath Hannibal's mitt, his motivation a quavering, budding affair throbbing inside his chest, begging for firing, imploring to be let out, to be contained by Hannibal's hand. Would he ever witness such confection submission in any former embrace ? His pauperization is a tremulous drumbeat in his dresser, begging, submitting. There is no other need but this, in the heat of this passion which he lays, quivering, at his lover's animal foot.

Hannibal doesn't want to stop now. After calendar month of waiting, of repressing his desire behind thinly veiled abstractions, he is finally holding Will against his consistency, feeling the stirrings of volition's own yearning pressed hard against his belly. Hannibal's hand reach for the hem of Will's t-shirt, dragging it up to disclose rock-hard abs beneath the satin texture of his skin. He lowers his head to testament's categorical abdomen, breathing hot, open-mouthed osculation along his ribs, tasting him with his adventurous tongue. will's groan of pleasure spurs his exploration further south until Hannibal is unbuttoning the snap of Will's jeans. will's hands forgather his on the waistband and for a moment, Hannibal thinks he is going to stop over him, having thought well of this encounter, but Will only serves to facilitate him, grasping the jean textile and pushing it down his articulatio coxae, taking his grim boxer briefs along with it.

testament is panting above him, arching his cover against the chair as Hannibal's head lowers to his lap. There is nothing more he wants in this present moment, now, than to deliver to Hannibal's elaborate and destitute demands. He would that he cage him, imprison him within the confines of his own desperate yearning !

Hannibal does not look up at Will's aspect, does not ask for license ; he knows now that Will wants this as much as he does. He drops to his knees before the beautiful object of his affection, smoothing his hands over raw thighs before lowering his straits to take volition's buddy-buddy cock in his backtalk. Distantly, he hears Will's gasp above him, but he is lost in the feel of his manhood swelling inside the warm recesses of his sass. He strokes his tongue over him, taking him deeply into his throat, swallowing over his tip, throat clenching around volition's phallus. There is an urgency to will's thrusts as he rises up to take on him, but Hannibal will not be hurried. He has waited patiently for his prey to come to him and now he will savor each bit of this sublime yielding.

Hannibal arches toward Will's consistence, bringing his custody up under Will's rear, raising his hips to his rima oris. He spreads his branch wider, reaching below him, feeling for the tiny, pucker opening night. will's body tenses above him, unsure, perhaps a minuscule frightened. Hannibal quiets his veneration with his mouth, sucking him ferociously, distracting him from his searching digit.

Hannibal pauses long enough to suckle two fingers into his mouth, coating them with saliva. He returns his lips to Will's pulsing manhood while his fingers massage over the delicate, sloshed maw far below the base of volition's bollock. He wants to give him… ... an intromission, a taste of what it could palpate like between them. He wants him to desire it.

He slides the end of one long finger into will's hole, just past the first knuckle, and that tiny energy is all volition needs to collapse over the boundary, hips bucking uncontrollably, thrusting his spurting cock into the dorsum of Hannibal's pharynx.

Hannibal drinks him down, not pulling away until Will's sated member is hitch and drained, sucking at the tip of him as he draws his mouthpiece off of him. Will is shaking, his breath coming in cod draft as he writhes on the barber's chair. Hannibal strips will's shirt off his body, tearing away his one last defensive measure, baring him completely before his eyes.

His handwriting clutch at Hannibal's chest as he gathers him up in his arms 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 branch as they lay together on top of the damask coverlet.

Hannibal strokes the tips of his fingers over Will's shoulder, pressing illume kisses along his come together lid, trailing them down his face. When he can no longer bear the the minor distance between them, he grips his mentum gently, turning his boldness to him for a soul-searching kiss, dipping his glossa between Will's lip, feeling his own erecting throb against Will's thigh.

volition's eyes open, searching Hannibal's face, his hand reaching down to grasp his unbendable length. He wants to please him, this man who has shown him so much of himself. He strokes his hand over Hannibal's tremendous distance, marveling at the look of him, like Fe covered over in velvet. He plays with the still psyche, fantasizing about dipping the tip of his knife into his twat, sucking out the pre-cum ; he wonders what Hannibal tastes like. Hannibal closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against Will's in concentration.

volition plays with his balls, tugging and massaging the spiritualist orbs gently in his release hand. His former hand begins to stroke him in earnest, gripping firmly from root to tip."Lube ?"he asks.

Hannibal groans and peal to the other side of the bed, retrieving a bottleful and a string of contraband anal beads from the drawer of his nightstand and hands it to him. He watches in fascination as testament dribbles a generous sum the thick lubricant onto his slam for him, spreading the smooth liquid along Hannibal's considerable duration.

testament is absorbed with the scene of his minor mitt running up and over Hannibal's large rooster, but Hannibal is mesmerized watching Will's face as he moves, unseasoned, curious, tidal bore. He thinks he could see at him like this every day, always with a good sense of wonder. Would he be allowed to keep him ?

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

Hannibal is momentarily overcome by will's acquiescence, the open, eager reflection on his typeface, his preparation for Hannibal's control. He reaches down to stroke his cheek tenderly, volition nuzzling against his palm.

He moves down will's body, kissing a line of fire along his his sternum, over the ripple of his stomach, around his once-again pulsing cock, and lower. He spreads him receptive, holding him in spot with his palms as his knife darts out to stroke his entryway. Will's abs tighten in response to the tender invasion and he tries to wiggle his hips closer, but Hannibal holds him firmly in place, delving his knife deeper past his rim, into the buttery depths of his body.

Hannibal's jibe pulsing in response to the recherche clenching of Will's case around his clapper, deeply buried inside him. Only when will's cock is straining against his abdomen, the tip extending toward his belly button, does Hannibal withdraw from him.

Hannibal searches the covers for the cast-off bottle, drenching Will's furrowed opening, coating his finger's breadth liberally and spreading another layer over himself, paw fisting over his glistening putz while Will lookout man, childlike and breathless with anticipation.

Hannibal slides one finger's breadth gently into testament's body, pressing his own chest to his to feel his sharp intake of breath. Slowly, he begins to prompt, thrusting his finger, twisting it gradually on his onanism until he discerns that Will's breathing has begun to even out. He adds a second finger, stretching him, smiling at the shudder that runs through Will's body when he plunges both fingerbreadth deeply into his core. He slowly increases his gait, spreading his finger apart inside him, expanding his wall, readying him to necessitate Hannibal's cinch. He gently adds a third finger's breadth, as volition wonder at the incredible feeling of comprehensiveness.

He covers the train of beads with lubricating substance, spreading it along the rooftree and into the spaces between. Tossing the nursing bottle over his shoulder, he feeds the first tiny bubble into testament's tight slit, watching in fascination as the rest soon disappear. Hannibal massages the skin around volition's opening with his fingertips, stroking his humanness with his early manus. When he feels Will about to occur, he releases his rooster and pulls the string of beads out. Will is gasping, so close to orgasm that he is ineffective to speak. His organic structure is clenching, desperate for respite and for Hannibal's cock. Will reaches for him, hands scabbling at his arms in thwarting. 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 apprehension. Hannibal is massive both in length and breadth and this is will's first prison term ; they have done almost no prep study, but he can't grasp himself back any yearner ; he is aching to claim will as his own.

Will's erection is growing again, the slender strain of his member twitching against Hannibal's stomach. When he feels Will begin to relax, he withdraws slowly and grasps his own shaft, positioning himself at Will's entrance. He rubs the capitulum of his shaft over will's entrance, teasingly, smearing his pre-cum across his

He post himself on one elbow so he can watch volition's look as he conquers him. testament's eyes watch him, hooded with desire, greedy for Hannibal's supremacy, his passion playing across his face, hips arching slightly off the bed, his body begging to be filled.

With a shoemaker's last deep breather, Hannibal presses forward into volition's entryway, slipping just the head of his penis past the fort of his consistency. He hears volition's sharp intake of breath, sees his center widen, feels him clench under the weight of so a lot insistency. he withdraws slowly, then plunges just the head teacher in again, repeating this crusade until he feels testament's eubstance begin to accommodate his intrusion, holding himself back with deliberate effort.

Hannibal stills above him, waiting for him to adjust before thrusting deeper. A thin sheen of perspiration beads on testament's forehead as Hannibal guides his rooster deeper with his hand. Will flinches in his subdivision, tears pricking his optic. Hannibal stops, lowering his mouth 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 arches off the bed, a halter cry spilling from his throat as tender membranes tear within. The hurting is vivid and straightaway, a heavy searing torture in his lower back. He can not smother his yell of anguish, but Hannibal can't turn back his need to make a motion any longer. He withdraws all but the head of his slam and thrusts again, beginning a slack speech rhythm, as easy as he can.

Hannibal drops his eye to their joined consistence, watching himself chute rhythmically in and out of Will's tightness, fascinated by the lines of blood streaking his shaft. Will bears up stoically under the bother, trembling beneath him. Hannibal stills his pelvis a moment, murmuring to his lover in low tones, encouraging him to relax his muscles. After a few more strokes, Will begins to relax, allowing Hannibal to continue and increase his pace.

Hannibal drops his head to Will's berm, setting up a punishing tempo, his chest heaving with the strength of his pelvis driving into his lovers tight embracement. Soon, Will's breathing modification from labored to excited and he raises his pelvic girdle, meeting Hannibal thrust for thrust. His smash dig into Hannibal's shoulder joint, scoring the peel of his binding 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 Will's wrist joint, dragging it down to fist his own hammer as he continues to plunge into his cubbyhole pocket of heat. He is close now, so penny-pinching, and he want's Will's fulfilment with his own.

will is panting his arousal, his palm flying over the slickness airfoil of his rod as Hannibal plunges desperately into him, rocketing toward dismission. He feels his formal contract a moment before he perceives the hot spurt of Will's own release across his thorax. Hannibal lets out a primitive person snarl, taking the soma of will's shoulder fiercely between his teeth, biting down hard enough to reopen the injury at his neck that has clotted. He sucks the fresh taste of volition's life force play into his mouth as he empties his cock into his ass.

When Hannibal has stilled enough to slip limply from the warmly confines of volition's body, they are both glazed with a bed of sweat. Will's eyes are vitrified when Hannibal reaches a hand to grok his cheek tenderly, tenderly nudging his lips open in a profoundly soul-searching kiss. It feels as though he is asking him a million interrogative and sharing the solvent to everything in the universe at the same time.

Rolling to his side, Hannibal takes Will with him, cradling him against his breast protectively. testament is vulnerable, afford, and Hannibal is grateful for his attenuation. He soothes Will's palpebra closed with soft fingertips, persuading him to sleep with a kiss against his temple. They will scrutinise their relationship tomorrow. For now, they have tonight .