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Chapter Text

Will was still mad at Hannibal, if he were to be honest with himself. He wasn't necessarily angry that Hannibal had helped Abigail hide Nick's body, but more so that Hannibal had lied to Will.

"Do I need my lawyer, Will?" Will sighed. He had to protect Hannibal. And Abigail. "No." "We're her fathers now," Hannibal said to him, his strong hand clasping Will's shoulder. Will fought the instinct to lean into that warmth as he tried to remain angry with Hannibal.

Hannibal gave him a soft smile and Will looked away, staring out the office's window towards the snowy world that lay beyond. It took every ounce of restraint he could muster to pull himself from Hannibal's touch. "I am angry with you, Hannibal. But you two are my family, now."

Hannibal's eyes widened, his face uncharacteristically vulnerable. He opened his mouth to say something but Will cut in. "Just don't," he snapped. "I don't want to hear it right now. Just... give me a few days, and then we will talk." Hannibal nodded, and Will's heart broke.

------- 3 Weeks Later -------

"Did you pack your sleeping bag and an extra coat?" Will asked Abigail as she slipped into the back seat. She rolled her eyes. "Yes, /Dad/," she said teasingly, and Will shook his head at her as Hannibal smiled fondly from the driver's seat.

Hannibal pulled out of the driveway and as they began the two hour trip to Will's favorite campsite, he looked at the two people in the car with him and smiled to himself. He and Hannibal had come to an understanding. A bond created out of mutual desire to protect Abigail.

For the first time in his life, Will felt like he belonged. He had a family. Abigail complained about the Bach streaming from Hannibal's radio but he refused to change it, lecturing about classical music, unaware that Abigail had stuck headphones in her ears.

But Will listened to Hannibal wax poetic about the benefits of listening to classical music and he smiled softly, warmth stirring in his chest. Hannibal caught him staring and raised a curious eyebrow at him. "Thank you," Will said softly. "For?" Hannibal asked, confused.

"This," Will said simply, gesturing to the bubble of happiness inside of the car. Hannibal grabbed Will's hand from where it rest on the seat and brought it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. Will blinked at him in shock. "Anything, Will. It's yours."

Chapter Text

*** Set in s3 ***

"He wants you to say please," Alana said, taking a sip of her whiskey. Will scoffed, shaking his head.

"I'll say pretty please," Will responded before tossing back the whiskey himself. He'd need all of the alcohol he could get if he was going to do what he was thinking of doing. Will had enough of Hannibal fucking with him. Doing petty shit like this. He was fucking over it.

Hannibal had manipulated this whole situation to his advantage. Or so he thought.

But Will knew better. Will knew that he was the one in control, not Hannibal. Will still had Hannibal exactly where he wanted him. Locked up, feeding off of Will's rare presence alone.

And Hannibal had the audacity to play games like this? To act like he had the authority to pull strings, when he knew who exactly had caged him?

No. It was time to teach Hannibal a lesson.

**********

The next day, Will made his way to the BSHCI and demanded that Alana turn off the cameras to Hannibal's cell. She was too desperate for the Plan to work to deny him. When he entered the doors of Hannibal's cell, his breath caught in his throat when he saw Hannibal strapped into a straightjacket against a hand truck with a thick, heavy mask covering his lower face like a muzzle.

Muzzled like a untamed and vicious beast.

Exactly as Will had been, years ago. It was payback. Hannibal was Will's beast, now.

The sight and spark of revenge sent a wave of arousal through Will and he felt his cock stir with aggressive interest.

"Leave us," he growled to the attendants. They raised their eyebrows but Alana beckoned them outside and then closed the door, leaving just the two of them.

Will felt Power, full and free, rush over him as he took in the sight of Hannibal completely bound and muzzled in front of him, defenseless. Will could kill him right now, if he wanted to.

He didn't want to.

What he did want was for Hannibal, not himself, to say 'please.'

Will didn't speak a word, crossing the cell and coming to a stop mere inches from Hannibal's face. Hannibal's maroon eyes bore into his, calculating, and Will stared back at him, never looking away, even as he brought his hand to roughly cup Hannibal's cock through his jumpsuit.

That did take Hannibal by surprise, and his eyes fluttered shut before flaring open again, searching Will's face intensely.

"I'm done with your shit, Hannibal," Will snarled, "and by the time I'm done with you, you're going to be the one saying 'please' just to work with me."

Hannibal's eyes narrowed, and Will smirked at him. "Don't think I can make that happen? Watch me," Will said, before sinking to his knees.

Will extracted his pocketknife and cut a slit right through the crotch of Hannibal's jumpsuit before reaching in to grab his cock.

Even Hannibal, for all his composure, couldn't stop a moan slipping from his mouth, muffled by the mask he wore. Will stroked him a few times before sliding Hannibal's cock into his mouth, bobbing his head as Hannibal was forced still in front of him, unable to touch him.

Will knew it would drive Hannibal mad, for Will to touch him like this and not allow touch in return, especially when they'd never touched each other like this before. Will grabbed a hold of the straightjacket- which covered only his top half- and pulled him up, just to slam him to the floor instead.

Will then crawled over Hannibal, who now laid bound underneath him. Technically, Hannibal could kick him away, but Will knew he wouldn't. Hannibal wanted it too bad. And Will... Will wanted Hannibal more than he ever thought possible.

He was full of a desire to mark, to claim, to own. Will tore more of the jumpsuit away with his knife before ripping with his hands, anxious to bury himself within Hannibal. Will found Hannibal's puckered hole and spit onto his fingers before shoving them roughly inside, stretching him open harshly. Hannibal's hips arched upwards of their own accord and Will grasped his hips to press them against the ground. "You're fucking mine, Hannibal, and you take what I give you," Will said. That got another moan out of Hannibal, and Will smiled.

"Look at you, beggin' for me already," Will said, scissoring Hannibal open further.

As he worked his fingers into him, Will bent over Hannibal and nuzzled against his neck, biting and sucking into the skin roughly, leaving bruises and bite marks in his wake.

Will knew that having his face so close to Hannibal's, without Hannibal being able to kiss him, would be torture.

As it should be.

Will growled impatiently and withdrew his fingers, giving himself a couple of pumps before aligning himself with Hannibal's hole.

He dragged the tip of his cock back and forth over Hannibal's entrance, teasing relentlessly, and Hannibal began to writhe under him. Hannibal tried to thrust himself onto Will's cock and Will slapped his thigh harshly.

"What do you say, Hannibal?"

Hannibal glared at him, fury and humiliation burning in his eyes. Will delighted in it, and he wouldn't berate himself for it. He ran his hands along the skin of Hannibal's thighs and hips and kept circling his hole with his cock, smearing precum.

Hannibal keened.

"Not until you beg for it, Hannibal," Will said, tightening his nails into the skin of Hannibal's hips. Hannibal's own cock was red and was leaking over his stomach.

"Please," Hannibal whispered at last.

"What was that?" Will said, dragging his cock over his hole again.

"Please, Will," Hannibal said, louder this time, and Will growled in satisfaction as he thrust into Hannibal roughly, holding Hannibal in place as he buried himself to the hilt. He didn't give Hannibal time to adjust, pulling out and plunging back in instead.

"Oh, fuck, Hannibal, you're so good for me," Will said as he thrust back into the heat of Hannibal over and over again, his hips slapping against the meat of Hannibal's thighs. Hannibal's muffled moans filled the empty cell and further spurred Will to fuck into him at a punishing pace.

"Tell me who you belong to," Will growled, reaching up to clasp Hannibal's neck tightly. Hannibal's neck spasmed beneath his hand as he tried to breathe, and Will tightened his grip as he thrust against Hannibal's prostate repeatedly.

"You, Will. Always you," Hannibal gasped, and then Will was coming, buried deep within Hannibal. He reached out to stroke Hannibal's cock and Hannibal came within seconds, soaking his jumpsuit in come.

Will collapsed beside Hannibal.

"You look so pretty when you beg for me."

Chapter Text

----Post-Fall----

Ever since that night upon the cliff, Will hasn’t been able to get Hannibal’s fangs out of his head. 

Blood and adrenaline had pumped through them as they danced a waltz of flesh and bone under the light of the moon, and Will remembers the glint of Hannibal’s teeth. 

Will had dropped to his knees in front of the dragon, as if in supplication, as he drove a blade through the belly of the beast. 

Above him, Hannibal pounced onto the back of the beast, and that’s when Will saw Hannibal’s teeth, the weapons of a predator with a penchant for human flesh. 

Blood came at a gallop from the dragon’s belly, and Will felt the warm splash against his face. He remembers the way his eyes flickered up to the moon, to see Hannibal’s jaws open wide before clamping down on the throat of the dragon. 

Will can still see the way Hannibal’s fangs had sunk into the meat of the dragon’s throat before ripping it out, swallowing chunks of his prey at a time. 

Will can still feel the warmth and electricity that flowed through him as Hannibal eyed him with a slack jaw, fangs exposed and dripping with the blood of their shared prey. 

It’s been a month since Will felt the call of the ocean. A month of recovery, of tense silences, and even tenser nights, when Will can see the light of the moon shining through the tiny cabin’s window, illuminating Hannibal’s skin from where he lies next to Will on the small mattress they are forced to share. 

Hannibal does not know that Will stays awake for hours, waiting for Hannibal to reach a stage of sleep where his mouth falls open slightly, just enough for Will to catch a glimpse of those sharp canines in the moonlight. 

Oftentimes, Will wonders what his own blood would look like, dripping black in the moonlight from Hannibal’s fangs. 

***

Another month passes, and Will knows the full moon is coming. He knows because those are the nights where the moonlight fills their cabin with the most light for him to gaze upon Hannibal as he sleeps; the nights that provide enough light for Will to watch Hannibal’s lips curl in his sleep, exposing his fangs. 

They’re on speaking terms now, and Will no longer flinches when Hannibal touches him accidentally. Hannibal notices, and the touches become more purposeful, a hand against his back here, a hand grazing against his hand there. 

When the evening of the full moon comes, Will knows he is restless. Hannibal doesn’t comment, but Will knows he sees him pacing, unable to sit still. 

The sun falls and the moon begins to rise, and Will finds himself following Hannibal to bed quickly that night. Again, Hannibal doesn’t comment, but he gazes at Will for a second longer than he usually does, and suddenly the air between them is tense, palpable. 

The moonlight casts generous light upon their shared bed and for the first time ever, Will initiates touch with Hannibal. Hannibal stills, hesitant. Will’s desire only grows. 

Will turns to his side and then leans over Hannibal, his face inches from Hannibal. Hannibal’s eyes appear quite black, and there’s a hunger in them Will hasn’t seen since the night on the cliffside. Will aches for Hannibal. 

Will closes the distance between them, crashing their lips together. Hannibal’s lips part in surprise, and Will takes the chance to lick into his mouth, his tongue darting to feel the sharp lines of his canines. The fangs with which Hannibal has eaten the flesh of his enemies, has consumed the organs of his victims. Will’s desire only grows. 

Hannibal feels the desperation coiled in Will’s muscles and he quickly flips them over so that he is crouched over Will. Will looks up to see the moonlight spilling perfectly through Hannibal’s silvery dirty blond hair and Hannibal kisses him again, and Will presses every inch of himself to Hannibal, always wanting more. 

The way they make love echoes the way they danced with each other upon the cliff that fateful night. Will lowers himself in submission, Hannibal mounts. 

Will can feel Hannibal so deeply inside of him, and he moans against Hannibal’s lips, more needy and desperate than he’s ever been. 

“Hannibal,” Will gasps, and Hannibal is thrusting deeper inside of him, his cock splitting him open before him. Will arches his back and then he is clawing at Hannibal’s back, desperately raking his nails through Hannibal’s skin as if he wishes to crawl inside of him. 

Hannibal picks up his pace and soon he is rocking their bodies together roughly, their tiny bed groaning in protest as Hannibal slams his cock deep inside of Will. 

Will wraps his legs around Hannibal and grasps at him possessively, desperately. He moans relentlessly as Hannibal hits his prostate again and again, and then Will finds himself begging. 

“Hannibal!” he cries, “bite me, please.” Hannibal growls deep in his chest and he leans forward. 

“Bite me so hard my blood spills from your mouth like wine,” Will pleads. 

Hannibal’s eyes widen but then he holds Will’s shoulders down as he continues thrusting, lowering his head to breathe against Will’s neck. He places a chaste kiss and then bites down harshly into where Will’s neck and shoulder meet, his teeth sinking into Will like snake fangs. 

Will lets out a hoarse yell, his eyes fluttering shut as his cock spasms, shooting his own come across his stomach. His ass clenches around Hannibal and then Hannibal buries himself to the hilt inside of Will and comes with a snarl, his teeth still buried in Will’s flesh. 

Hannibal slowly unlatches his teeth from Will’s neck and pulls back to look down at him. Will stares up in amazement as Hannibal parts his lips, Will’s blood dripping from his fangs, looking black in the moonlight. Quite black indeed.

Chapter Text

Prince Charmont paced throughout the throne room, his eyes downcast. He ran a shaking hand through his curls and suppressed a sigh. 

He walked over to the massive arched glass windows and looked out upon the lands of his kingdom- rolling green hills, babbling brooks, birds singing. 

And to think there were those that would see it destroyed. That would demolish this kingdom in the blink of an eye, leaving Prince Charmont and his people desolate. 

Charmont plopped down on his throne and hung his head between his shoulders. The kingdom of Lamia was everything to him; Lamia’s people were his family. He’d sooner die than see Lamia fall into the hands of their rival, the Kingdom of Albia. 

He’d heard that their king, King Gellert, was ruthless and of old magical blood. As Charmont saw it, there was really only one option left. 

Prince Charmont would have to kill King Gellert to end their rivalry once and for all and save his kingdom. 

****

When the sun finally set on Albia’s black marble castle walls, Charmont raised the hood of his sable cloak and became like shadow himself, slipping through the forest, then past the guards at the castle’s doors, before finally entering the main hall. 

His footsteps were light and quick as he sprang from shadow to shadow with an agility only years of combat training could bring you. 

He made his way through the castle’s winding halls, avoiding collision with objects of opulence, before finally coming to what must be the King’s Chambers. 

As expected, there were two guards posted at the entrance to the chamber and Charmont bit his bottom lip, thinking. He’d need to spill blood. 

He crept up behind the first guard, kicking him to the ground from behind before landing a blow to his head, knocking him out. He turned to the second guard and leapt at him, tackling him to the ground and struggling before finally managing to slam the man’s head against the ground, enough to knock him out but not kill him. 

The guards taken care of, Charmont opened the doors to the King’s chambers, but panic set in when he saw the empty bed. The doors slammed behind him, but when he looked behind him, no one was there. 

Charmont turned back around in confusion, and froze when he saw a figure that wasn’t there before standing by the window, black silhouette framed in moonlight. 

“Hello, Prince Charmont,” the low voice said. “I do not recall extending you an invitation to visit my kingdom.” 

“King Gellert,” Charmont responded, drawing his shoulders up and tensing, ready for a fight. “Invitations are for the cordial. We cannot be cordial, Gellert, not when you threaten my people.” 

Silence fell between them and it was a long moment before Gellert spoke again. 

“Come into the light, boy.” 

Charmont bristles at being called a boy, but he comes forward anyway, stepping into the moonlight. Gellert waved his hand and floating candles appeared around him, shrouding him in warm light. 

In the new light, Charmont can see him now. The king steps forward, his silver hair glinting in the moonlight as his eyes drink in Charmont. Charmont notices a warm amber eye and an icy blue one, and he stills beneath the man’s intense gaze. 

“What a beautiful thing you are,” Gellert said. Charmont narrows his eyes and acts on impulse. He lunges forward, blade drawn, and Gellert snatches his wrist in the air, stopping the blade hovering over his neck. 

Charmont struggled, but Gellert chuckled, snapping his fingers and then the blade was in Gellert’s hand instead. Gellert pointed the blade at Charmont and then sliced, nicking the skin on Charmont’s neck, not even deep enough to sting, yet enough so that blood welled to the surface. 

Gellert brought the knife with Charmont’s blood closer to him, maintaining eye contact as his tongue darted out to lick at the blood. He licked along the knife’s edge, savoring Charmont’s blood. 

Charmont’s face heats, and the way Gellert is gazing at him unleashes something primal in him. Gellert must sense the shift in his gaze, for he drops the knife with a clatter and takes a step forward, digging a hand into Charmont’s curls and pulling them taut so Charmont is forced to look up at him. 

“Brazen boy,” Gellert said, his eyes flickering down to Charmont’s lips and Charmont knows he can’t do this, shouldn’t want this, but he does. He /really/ does. 

Gellert stared at him for several moments, eyes calculating. 

“Marry me,” Gellert said suddenly, and Charmont sputtered. 

“Seriously. Marry me, and we unite our kingdoms, stopping our conflict. I’ll gain the resources Lamia can provide my people, and you’ll receive the security only my kingdom can provide you.” 

Charmont had to admit he’d considered an offer of marriage as a way to dispense of their rivalry, but he was still unsure. 

“And what of me? Will I retain my title?” 

“No. You shall be King beside me, and we shall rule together. I have no interest in dominating you, Charmont. At least not outside of our marriage bed, in any case.” 

Charmont blushed pink at the implication of being taken by the older man, but the promise of uniting their kingdoms in equality and ruling as a team is what finally reached Charmont, and he nodded. 

“Very well. I accept your proposal. I shall send word to my advisors to join us here to figure out a contract, if that is alright?” 

“Of course,” responded Gellert. “I’ll have a servant direct you to a room for now. Until the morning” he said, bringing Charmont’s hand to his mouth to plant a chaste kiss across his knuckles, “sleep well, my prince.”

Chapter Text

Charmont, dressed in pristine white, knelt on the ground before the High Priestess with Gellert kneeling beside him. They clasped hands, and golden strands of light flowed from the Priestess to cover their intertwined hands with an explosion of warmth. 

“The Unbreakable Vow of Marriage,” she said, and Charmont swallowed, glancing at the older man next to him with whom he was destined to spend the rest of his life. Gellert gave him a small, soft smile. 

The High Priestess held a large golden crown above her head. Then, she pulled on it in opposite directions, and the thing twisted apart along a centerline, splitting into two crowns, identically different, mirror images of each other. 

“With your marriage, Charmont of Lamia, and Gellert of Albia, your kingdoms are united. I hereby pronounce you husband and husband; King and King of the now United Kingdom of Albilamia.” 

She placed a crown on both of their heads and they rose, hands still wound together with golden light. With his free hand, Gellert gripped the back of Charmont’s head with gentle but firm authority, and brought Charmont’s mouth to his to seal their union with a kiss. 

As the court applauded the beginning of their marriage and a new kingdom, Charmont blushed under Gellert’s intense gaze. Gellert leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “I am going to make you mine tonight, Charmont. How pretty you’ll look aching for my touch, darling boy.” 

Heat erupted in Charmont’s chest and he felt himself growing aroused from Gellert’s words alone. Gellert smirked and snaked his arm around Charmont’s slender waist, and Charmont felt just how small he was compared to the more broad and older king. 

“Let us enjoy the feast first, and then I promise we will retire to our chambers where you can spend the rest of the night screaming my name until you go hoarse. How does that sound, my King?” 

Charmont felt his eyes widen and he gaped at Gellert, unable to respond. Gellert chuckled fondly and planted a kiss on Charmont’s cheek before nipping lightly at his jaw, a promise of what was to come. 

***

Per tradition for the marriage nights of royalty, Charmont readied himself in his own chamber, bathing and donning a long white nightshirt. When he was ready, his servants walked him to the other side of the castle by candlelight. 

As soon as they drew close to Gellert’s bedchamber, the doors opened, and Gellert stood before them, dressed in a similar white nightshirt. He held out his hand to Charmont and he took it, stepping into the chambers. 

The servants, having ensured that the two entered the bedchamber together on their marriage night, went on their way, no doubt to spread gossip as soon as they left the halls. 

Inside the chambers, Charmont swallowed anxiously, holding his hands in fists by his sides. 

“Relax, Charmont, everything will-” 

“I’m a virgin,” Charmont said abruptly, blushing furiously, averting his gaze from Gellert’s. Gellert reached out to grip Charmont’s chin and raised it to force eye contact. 

“As I suspected, dear boy. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Let me take care of you,” Gellert said, lowering his voice as he stepped in closer to Charmont, his gaze darkening. Charmont just nodded rapidly, not trusting himself to speak. 

“Good boy,” Gellert murmured. He reached out to clasp the side of Charmont’s face and then kissed him deeply. Charmont melted in his arms and felt arousal and desire pool low in his belly. 

Gellert trailed kisses down the sides of Charmont’s jaw and then down his neck as his arms encircled Charmont, hands reaching down to grab possessively at Charmont’s ass. At the gesture, Charmont gasped loudly and leant forward to cling to Gellert’s shoulders. 

Gellert smirked and then he was pulling his own nightshirt off to reveal a muscled chest with thick, silvery-brown hair and a thick, uncut cock standing erect. Charmont swallowed dryly, nerves running through him again. 

Gellert reached out and touched his cheek reassuringly before slipping Charmont’s nightshirt from his shoulders. Charmont let it drop to the floor and he felt Gellert’s hungry gaze sweep along his slender but muscular bare chest and his pink cock, leaking with interest. 

Gellert suddenly swept Charmont off his feet with little effort and tossed him onto the wide bed before crawling over him, a growl low in his chest. He pressed hot, insistent kisses across Charmont’s chest and down his stomach before swallowing Charmont whole. 

Charmont bucked his hips and whined, the new sensation overwhelming. Gellert splayed his broad hands across Charmont’s hips to hold him in place as he bobbed his head around Charmont’s cock. 

Gellert pulled back with a mischievous grin and Charmont panted underneath him, already desperate for more. Gellert procured lube and then was prepping Charmont, having him ready and writhing within minutes. 

“Please,” Charmont moaned and Gellert obliged, his thick cock pushing slowly into Charmont’s virgin hole, Charmont groaning and clawing at him. 

After giving Charmont a minute to adjust, Gellert began to thrust. Charmont’s legs curled around him, and the boy clung to him desperately, clearly overwhelmed by his first time. 

“Oh god, G, more! Please!” Charmont cried, and Gellert thrust in harder, pounding into the boy’s ass hard enough to cause their skin to slap together obscenely. 

Gellert targeted his prostate, and then Charmont was an incoherent mess, digging his nails into Gellert’s back and moaning loudly. 

“That’s right, sweet boy. You’re mine now. All mine,” Gellert said, leaning forward to kiss Charmont again as he snapped his hips forward a few more times before he came with a groan, filling Charmont with his seed. 

The sensation sent Charmont over the edge, and then he was coming untouched, coating his chest in his own come. 

Gellert pulled out and collapsed down next to him before disappearing the mess with a wave of his hand. 

Charmont lay there awkwardly, clearly unsure what came next. Gellert felt his heart swell and he extended an arm, motioning for him to lay on his chest. 

Charmont nestled into the warmth of Gellert’s chest and sighed, twining their legs together. He had a feeling Gellert would take good care of him. He had a feeling he’d give him the world.

Chapter Text

The catalyst for Hannibal’s current muteness occurred a few weeks after their tumble into the sea. They had been staying in a safe house, recovering from their wounds, and Will had woken from a nightmare, screaming himself hoarse as tears welled in his eyes. 

Hannibal had flocked to him within seconds and reached out a hand to comfort Will. Yet upon seeing it, Will jerked back, viscerally alarmed as he bared his teeth at Hannibal. 

Hannibal held his hands up placatingly, muttering words in a soothing tone to calm Will down. Half an hour later, Will had calmed down at last, and Hannibal sat in a chair by his bed. 

As he stood to return to his own bed, his hand came down to brush Will’s curls back from his forehead and Will jerked away violently, crawling into a defensive crouch in the corner of the room, eyes wary. 

It was instinct. Years of receiving pain from Hannibal’s hand had taught Will that Hannibal’s touch could not be trusted. After the Fall, it was the only thing Will could feel, that mistrust of the hands that had dealt him blow after blow. 

Hannibal had tried a few more times after that night to initiate casual contact with Will, and each time Will found himself immediately defensive, hackles raised. Fear and anger coursed through him, and Hannibal could see it in Will’s eyes. 

Hannibal wasn’t one for regret. But seeing Will flinch from every touch of his brought regret, and it quite literally left him speechless. In his grief, Hannibal succumbed to mutism. 

****

Now, two months, ten days, and four hours since Will had seen Hannibal- the man he once knew to wax poetic about murder- sink into mutism, Will’s heart was aching. It felt as if it were on fire, and the only salve for it would come from Hannibal’s hand. 

“Touch me,” Will whispered, glancing into Hannibal’s eyes imploringly. Hannibal’s eyes- full of sadness, now- regarded Will for a long moment and then shook his head. 

Will choked back a sob, fearing his ribs would break under the emotion that welled in his chest. 

“Hannibal, please,” Will said softly, this time reaching out his own shaking hand to bring Hannibal’s calloused hand to his face. He rubbed his cheek against his hand, and Hannibal’s eyes widened in shock. 

Will raised his own hand up to lay on top of Hannibal’s, holding it firmly to his face. Hannibal’s gaze was intense now, hope and desire swirling in its depths. 

Will, his heart beating erratically, climbed into Hannibal’s lap, straddling his hips. Hannibal sat with his back straight as a board, hands in fists to keep from touching Will. Will brought Hannibal’s hands up to rest on his waist and smiled down at him. 

Will then leant forward to bring their lips together. Hannibal didn’t respond for several moments, but then something in him snapped, finally coming back to life. Hannibal began to kiss back, deepening the kiss, and Will felt himself melt. 

“Hannibal,” he said against the man’s lips, gasping as Hannibal gripped his waist tightly, desperately. Like he was a parched man in the desert who had finally found water. 

Hannibal wound his hands through Will’s hair, pulling tightly on his curls with a type of desperate possessiveness that had heat pooling in Will’s stomach. Will let out a moan as Hannibal kissed along his neck. 

Finally, for the first time in months, Hannibal spoke. 

“What do you want from me, Will?” he rasped, voice hoarse from months of disuse. Will pulled back to look into Hannibal’s eyes, and saw a raw vulnerability that only further ignited the flame in his chest. He needed Hannibal. 

“Want you to take care of me,” Will mumbled into Hannibal’s neck. He felt Hannibal smile against his skin and then he was captured in a hot, searing kiss that left him breathless. 

Will ground his hips against Hannibal’s, moaning when he felt the other man’s cock twitch in interest. Hannibal’s hands drifted from his waist, reaching to grab two handfuls of Will’s ass and squeezing tightly. 

“Fuck, Hannibal,” Will said, throwing his head back to expose his neck as he writhed on Hannibal’s hardening cock. Hannibal growled and gripped his hips as he thrust upwards, his clothed cock sliding against Will’s ass. 

“What a beautiful boy you are, Will,” Hannibal said. “Just aching for my touch, aren’t you, my boy?” 

“Please, Daddy,” Will moaned before he froze in embarrassment, fear suddenly taking over. He hadn’t had any intention of using that word, and it had fallen from his mouth of its own accord. 

But Will needn’t have worried, for the term only spurred Hannibal on. Hannibal stood abruptly, scooping up Will with him, and then Will was being pressed into the bed, Hannibal crouching over him. 

“Daddy’s going to take such good care of you, darling. Are you going to be good for Daddy, Will?” Hannibal asked, running his teeth along Will’s jaw before biting his neck roughly. 

“Yes, Daddy,” Will whined, anxiously moving to remove all of his clothes before he leant back and spread his legs for Hannibal, his cheeks flushed a bright pink. Hannibal’s eyes darkened at the sight and then he was naked, too, dipping lube-coated fingers into Will to stretch him open. 

When Will was ready, Hannibal fisted his cock a couple of times before lining up with Will’s hole. He pressed in slowly, and both men moaned as they felt themselves finally conjoined. 

Hannibal wasted no time. He pulled out before fucking back into Will, quickly setting a punishing pace as Will tugged at Hannibal’s hair and back, overwhelmed. 

“Oh, Daddy!” Will cried as Hannibal hit his prostate and then thrust against it again and again. 

“That’s it, Will, you’re being so good for me,” Hannibal grunted, and as Will moaned in response, Hannibal wrapped a large hand around Will’s cock, stroking him roughly. 

“Daddy!” Will moaned as he came, and the way his tight ass clenched around Hannibal’s cock had him gripping Will’s hips before spilling deep inside of him. 

As Hannibal pulled out, he watched his come leak form Will’s hole and paused to press it back inside, growling lowly at the sight of his boy, now claimed and marked by him. 

He collapsed down next to Will and Will turned to nuzzle into the hair on his chest, clinging to his chest tightly, determined to never let Hannibal drift away from him again. 

Chapter Text

Ever since he had killed Randall Tier, Will had been increasingly on edge, especially at night. There was a darkness blooming within him, and it thrummed with barely contained energy within the confines of his ribcage. 

Hannibal, just as Will had predicted, had become even more beholden to him after they dined on ‘Freddie’s’ flesh. But what Will had failed to see was just how much the change would affect himself. 

The stirring in his chest- a dark and twisted thing- only grew more powerful. Will had an irrevocable and insatiable desire to consummate the bond between he and Hannibal. 

And Hannibal knew it. He elevated their courtship even more, leaving Will a trail of bodies, organs, and blood. And then he invited Will to dinner. 

When Will arrived that night, the atmosphere was different. It was thick, heavy, and delightfully dark. 

Hannibal had prepared a feast for them. Laid upon his dining table was black silk cloth, covered with assorted meats and fruits, arranged within skulls and bones.

Pomegranates laid split open upon the table, their pulp seeping into the fabric like blood. 

Hannibal sat Will at one end and took the other end for himself; two heads at the table, two equals at last. 

Will bit into a pomegranate, the red juice falling from his lips and dripping to the table below. Hannibal’s gaze darkened as he watched intensely. 

Will chuckled quietly, amused with the fascination he found in Hannibal’s eyes. Low-grade arousal swirled within him. 

“I have shown you my true self, Hannibal; It is only right you grant me the same,” Will said, taking a sip of the blood-red wine. Hannibal smiled thinly. 

“I am not sure you are entirely prepared for my true self, dearest boy.” 

Will raised his eyebrows. His heartbeat quickened and a memory floated to the surface of his mind. 

A memory of his night with Margot, in which he had had his most powerful orgasm in a long time, as a response to fantasies of Hannibal’s wendigo form. 

If Will looked hard enough, he could almost see glimpses of long, protruding antlers extending from Hannibal’s head, the shadow uniting with his figure. 

Will took a deep breath. It was time. 

“I think I know your true form already, Hannibal. I think I’ve always known,” Will said softly. 

Hannibal narrowed his eyes at Will, calculating. He licked his lips. 

“I only have one word of warning for you, then,” he said. 

Will’s breath stuttered in his throat as he croaked out, “What?” 

“Run.” 

Will’s mind had barely processed the word before Hannibal’s form was already shifting. Where a bespoke suit-clad man had stood once before, now there stood the wendigo, its pale eyes swiveling to focus on Will. 

Will felt his blood run cold while somehow a hot wave of arousal also coursed through him, overwhelmed at seeing Hannibal in his true form. 

Tall, broad-shouldered, inky black skin, and all sharp edges, the wendigo was a creature of the night, of the shadow, of all that was dark. And Will was aching for it. 

The wendigo took sure, confident steps towards him, and Will stumbled backwards, falling to the ground, fear still flaring within him. 

“H-Hannibal,” Will whispered, and the wendigo stilled. Smiled slowly. 

“I believe I told you to run, dear boy. Either way, I will still mount you before the night is through, but I thought a chase would set the ideal tone.” 

And /fuck/ that went straight to Will’s cock. He suppressed a whimper as the wendigo took another step forward, towering over him. The figure lowered its head. “Run,” whispered Hannibal’s voice. 

And this time, Will did what he was told. He scrambled to his feet and tore through the house. Hannibal chuckled darkly behind him and Will’s cock felt heavier as he rounded the staircase before finally seeking to hide in Hanniba’s bedroom. 

He locked the door and sat in the dark, panting heavily. He couldn’t hear movement anywhere. The house was eerily quiet. He stood, about to go investigate, before the door came crashing down. 

The wendigo emerged in the open space, his antlers extending beyond the door frame. Will gulped nervously. 

And then before he could make another move, the wendigo had lunged at him, pinning him to the floor. Will writhed beneath it, groaning when the creature's claws dug into his shirt and ripped it off of him, exposing his bare chest to the cold air. 

“Mine,” growled the wendigo, its milky eyes staring into the depths of Will’s soul. It was a dark and possessive love, but Will could still feel the warmth and affection pouring from the wendigo. 

Will tried to push against his captor’s arms, but instead only succeeded in bucking his hips against the wendigo’s massive erection. Will let out a moan at the feeling, and the sound had the wendigo snarling and flipping Will over onto his stomach. 

Claws ripped at his jeans, pulling them from his body and leaving Will now completely naked underneath the towering creature. Claws raked down his back, and Will hissed at the contact. 

“Present for me,” purred the wendigo lowly, and Will couldn’t help but obey, lowering his chest to the floor and tilting his hips up, ass on display for the monster behind him. 

The wendigo, still being Hannibal, was many things, but he wasn’t cruel, not to his mate. He coated his fingers (claws detracted) with lube and spread Will open wide until Will was writhing for him. 

“Please! Hannibal, please,” begged Will, and the sound made the wendigo snap. Acting purely on predatory instinct, the wendigo pushed harshly into Will, bottoming out on the first thrust. 

Will cried out loudly in a mix of pain and pleasure, but Hannibal didn’t stop. He reared back before plunging his thick cock back into Will, causing Will to cry out again and claw at the ground. 

Will felt the wendigo’s claws grip into his hips and he yelped, feeling blood trickled down the sides of his thighs. 

“Oh god!” Will moaned as the wendigo fucked him at a punishing pace, his large balls slapping lewdly against Will’s ass. 

“Mine,” the creature growled again, and then Will was being pressed into the ground with his hips held up in place as the wendigo filled him up with his seed. 

The wendigo reached around Will’s waist to pump his cock, and after a few tugs, Will was spilling himself into the large fist, his come coating the clawed hands. 

Afterwards, Will found his heart unbearably warmed as Hannibal, still in his wendigo form, pulled Will into his bed, gathering blankets to wrap Will with as if he were making a nest for his mate. 

“Precious thing,” Hannibal whispered against Will’s temple, pulling him closer. Will smiled in response and allowed himself to finally find peace with the monster he had once feared but now knew to be his home.

Chapter Text

Many parents tell their children that there is a ‘man in the moon.’ Most parents don’t know this is true. They also don’t know that there is a ‘man in the sun.’ 

They don’t know the story of how the Moon and the Sun orbited the same space for millennia, never touching, yet always feeling attuned to one another. 

And they definitely don’t know the story of how the Moon and the Sun finally decided to become Man themselves and walk the Earth, hoping to find the other reflected in the face of a stranger. 

Allow me to tell you a story. The story of how the Moon finally got to hold his beloved Sun. 

Once upon a time… 

*** 

Hannibal was born under the Harvest Moon. There had been a festival, a celebration of autumn and the anticipated plentiful harvest that would come. 

Hannibal had always known he was different as a child. He never fit in, always felt empty, lonely, and distant. Disconnected with humanity. 

The only time Hannibal felt seen was when he was alone under the light of the moon. He would watch the white orb in the sky and knew on an instinctual level that he and the Moon were the same. He could not explain why. 

***

A world away and a decade later, a baby boy was born at sunrise on the Vernal Equinox. His name was Will Graham and no one recognized his bright soul for what it was. 

He, too, always knew he was different. Although he could emanate warmth and empathy, he never seemed to receive it in return. He felt he had to hide his light under a bush, so as to blend in. 

The only time Will ever felt seen was when he was alone under the light of the Sun. He would sail upon the waters and feel the warm Sun on his skin and he knew on an instinctual level that he and the Sun were the same. He could not explain why. 

***

When Hannibal met Will Graham, something in his soul shifted. He stared at the face of this man, this stranger, and he saw something familiar. Whereas he had never felt connected with another human before, this man was different. There was an intrinsic, electric connection. And Hannibal knew his life would never be the same. 

When Will met Dr. Lecter, there was something in the man’s eyes that Will had never seen reflected in the eyes of another. His words, too, spoke of an understanding of Will’s mind that no one had ever managed. Will knew his life would never be the same. 

*** 

The connection between Hannibal and Will was other-wordly (much more than they realized). They were the same, and they were opposites. They existed in another dimension, outside the realm of humanity. They were Gods among men. 

They both fought their connection, and it caused destruction. It also caused growth, fruition, becoming. It fostered understanding. It was something cosmic. 

***

Upon that clifftop, Will stared at the blood coating his hands and the way it looked black in the moonlight. He stared up at the full moon, and he was entranced. 

As they stood at the edge of the world, Hannibal and Will stood in a liminal space where their souls knew that they were so much more than their bodies. The energy between them pulsed and they felt the stirring of ancient memories at the back of their minds. 

Images of the world below them, stars around them. Their only companion, each other, always in sight, and always out of reach. 

Hannibal took the emergence of his cosmic memories with ethereal tranquility, the bliss of finally Knowing that he was the Moon. 

Will didn’t take the onslaught of his cosmic memories well at all; the sudden Realization of himself as the Sun filled him with panic, and he grabbed hold of Hannibal and they tumbled to the sea. 

*** 

They spent weeks recovering from injuries, only the most necessary of words uttered between them. The chasm between them held the loneliness of Space, the torturous separation of always being lightyears away. 

For weeks they endured the painful distance between them before one night, as Will looked upon the Full Moon through his window, his mind was filled with memories of watching the Moon’s dark beauty enchant the Earth. 

Just as the Sun had ached for the Moon for all those years, Will was now aching for Hannibal in this form, too. He padded quietly down the hallway and knocked upon Hannibal’s door. 

“Will? Come in,” Hannibal said, voice too alert to have been sleeping. As Will eased through the door, Hannibal sat up in bed. 

“Will? Is something wr-” Hannibal was cut off as Will climbed into his lap and pressed a warm, soft kiss to Hannibal’s lips. Hannibal’s lips parted slightly at the contact and Will pulled back to look down at him, eyes full of staggering adoration. 

“I have longed for you for millenia, Hannibal. I felt your absence from among the stars, and I knew you’d decided to give your soul a chance at a human life. I couldn’t help but follow you… hoping to meet you here.” 

“Will,” Hannibal whispered softly. “For so long I watched your light shine over this planet, knowing that I paled in comparison to you, for I shine only with the light you gave me. I love you. I have loved you since the dawn of time.” 

Will swallowed thickly, tears in his eyes. But Hannibal leant up and kissed them from his cheeks. 

“Make love to me,” Will said, and Hannibal nodded before pulling him in for another heated kiss. He twisted to place Will on the bed below him as he lavished him with kisses. The Moon believed the Sun worthy of worship. 

He gripped Will’s thick thighs and wrapped them around his waist as he drove home, both of them moaning at the connection. Will arched into Hannibal’s touch, and he felt himself growing warmer. 

“H-Hannibal!” he cried out as Hannibal’s cock thrust relentlessly against his prostate, and then Will was coming, his body convulsing. Bright light burst forth and filled the room as Will’s true form was revealed. 

And then Hannibal was coming, buried inside Will and half of him covered in the Light that Will gave him. 

The Moon had found The Sun, a tangible way to hold his beloved, even if just for this lifetime. 

One day their souls would return to their original sources, and maybe, just maybe, someone would look at the sky and tell their children, “Let me tell you a story about how the Moon fell in love with the Sun…”

Chapter Text

The first thing Will thought as he took his first gulp of air after breaking the surface of the water was, “Oh thank god, I’m alive.” The second thought was, “fuck, Hannibal’s going to kill me.” 

But when they broke the surface, Hannibal didn’t breathe. His skin looked grey in the moonlight, his lips darkening to a blue hue. 

“Please don’t leave me,” Will said, voice cracking with desperation. He blew air into Hannibal’s mouth and pressed against his chest more and then, as if he had heard Will’s call to him, Hannibal spasmed, coughing up water and heaving a deep breath. 

“Oh, god, Hannibal…” Will said, cradling his face in his hands, tracing his jaw in smooth circles. But the man’s returning gaze was empty, flat, cold. Steely grey. Despite being a bit out of it, Hannibal was certainly angry, betrayed. 

Will thought that after a few weeks of healing, the cold and mistrustful glint in Hannibal’s eyes would fade and Will would be forgiven. 

How wrong he was. 

*** 

Several months passed, hardly a word spoken between them. Will watched Hannibal regain his strength with growing agitation, certain that one day Hannibal would turn to him to exact Will’s punishment. 

Punishment for betraying Hannibal. Again. 

The last time he’d been punished by Hannibal he’d been forced into submission with a knife to his gut, and Will would be lying if he didn’t say he was considering doing the same to Hannibal now. 

A preemptive strike. Self-defense in advance. 

Or perhaps… perhaps Will simply wanted Hannibal to get over himself. To bury his resentment, to restore the balance between them. 

Maybe Hannibal just needed a little… prompting. 

Will fingered the blade in his pocket. He wasn’t a fool. As soon as they’d gotten to a safe house, Will had scoured the place for a blade to keep tucked away. It never left his person. 

As for Hannibal… Hannibal had been pacing their current safe house like a caged lion, menace coiled deep beneath his skin. Though his eyes were cold, there was still hunger there. Desire like a sharp-edged icicle. 

The tension between them only grew, both of them growing increasingly frustrated with each other, but refusing to talk it out. Will practically slept with one eye open, always listening for signs of movement from Hannibal’s room on the other end of the house. 

The long-awaited moment came on a Sunday evening as Hannibal was clearing the dishes from their painfully silent, tense dinner. Will couldn’t stand it anymore. He resolved to break Hannibal. 

Will walked up behind Hannibal, his chest a few inches from Hannibal’s back. Hannibal stilled, but did not turn around. Waiting patiently. Curious. 

“I’m sick of your drama, Hannibal. And you’re going to drop the attitude for me. Now, Hannibal,” Will growled, stepping closer so that Hannibal’s scent filled his senses. 

“Or what, Will? Going to toss me from a cliff again, darling?” 

The blade slipped into Will’s hand of its own accord as Will flipped Hannibal around and pressed him up against the counter so that they were face-to-face, the blade held firmly against his neck. 

“Or else I swear to god I’ll bathe myself in the blood that flows from your neck, Hannibal,” Will said, gaze darkening as he looked at Hannibal. 

And finally, /finally/, long-overdue heat and hunger erupted like fire in Hannibal’s eyes. His eyes shone maroon and the ice melted away. 

“There you are, my radiant boy,” Hannibal said lowly, seductively. Will gripped the knife handle tighter and /god/ he couldn’t resist; with a twist of the wrist, he cut into Hannibal’s neck, causing a light gash to drip blood steadily onto Hannibal’s suit. 

Hannibal’s eyes were blown wide with unmistakable desire now and Will felt an arousal swirl within him. He brought up a finger to run through the blood on Hannibal’s neck and brought the dripping red finger back to his mouth. 

He sucked on his own finger, tasting Hannibal’s blood on him, and then Will was nothing but a bundle of need and want. 

“Turn around,” he snapped out at Hannibal, and Hannibal looked only briefly surprised before turning obediently. 

“Fuck, look at you, so desperate for me, Hannibal,” Will said as he rubbed his clothed erection against the swell of Hannibal’s ass. Hannibal bucked back into the contact, but Will reached out a hand to still his hips. 

“No,” he said. “This, all of this, is on /my/ terms, Hannibal,” Will said, and to his surprise, Hannibal was nodding, so desperate just to be wanted by Will, in any shape or form. The knowledge made Will’s cock hang heavier between them. 

He hurriedly divested Hannibal of his clothing while Will remained clothed, looking down at Hannibal so exposed before him. 

He dipped his fingers into the gash in Hannibal’s neck, coating them thickly with blood, and then circled Hannibal’s entrance, spreading him open just enough to take Will’s cock. 

Will stood behind Hannibal, fully clothed, and lowered his fly just enough to pull out his cock. Spreading Hannibal open with one hand, Will pushed into him, working against the resistance roughly until he bottomed out, savoring Hannibal’s hisses of pain and pleasure. 

“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Hannibal? What you’ve wanted this whole time, my cock shoved so deep in your ass you can’t see straight,” Will said as he pulled back to slam into Hannibal again, causing the other man to clench the counter tightly. 

“Come on, darlin,’ don’t get shy on me now, let me hear you,” Will said, gripping Hannibal’s shoulder tightly as he thrust in again, angling to brush against Hannibal’s prostate. Hannibal let out a low moan at last. 

“That’s it, Hannibal, so good for me,” Will said, setting a punishing pace as he rocked into Hannibal while Hannibal squirmed below him. 

When Will felt himself edging closer, he wrap his arms around Hannibal’s torso and pulled him back against his chest, holding him steady with one arm as his other arm lowered to stroke Hannibal’s cock. 

Will’s hips snapped against Hannibal’s ass in time with the way he stroked Hannibal’s cock, and then Hannibal was coming with a cry, shooting ropes of white across the counter. 

His ass clenched around Will and Will let out a guttural moan as he thrust in erratically before holding Hannibal tightly in place to pump him full of his come. 

Will’s forehead dropped against Hannibal’s back and he shakily pulled out, rubbing circles into Hannibal’s back. 

Hannibal turned around to look at Will, eyes shining with moisture. 

“I just wanted to know you wanted me after all. The way I want you.” 

Will’s heart melted as he pulled Hannibal closer to press a deep, searing kiss to his lips. 

“I know, darlin.’ And I do want you, I do.”

Chapter Text

Wind roared and howled and tore through the lone white house with a ferocity that had the young man that sat within shaking to his core. 

Upon a bed stationed in the living room, Will Graham sat huddled beneath blankets, sweating and shivering. There was a bone-deep chill in the air, and Will felt the cold inching towards his soul, claws outstretched. 

The creature was near again, that much was certain. Yet even as Will shivered with what many would see as fear, the man knew in his heart that the nerves coursing through him were much, much different than terror. 

Will Graham was excited. 

***

The creature had been haunting his woods for weeks now, always shifting closer to the house with each passing night. A towering, imposing thing, made of bent limbs, inky black skin, milky eyes, and antlers that stood proud upon its head. 

That first night of seeing the creature, Will had been staring through the window upstairs, and the creature’s head had whipped up to meet Will’s gaze. 

Will’s heart had thudded, his blood had grown cold, yet warm. He felt as if the creature could see into his very soul, and whatever it saw, it coveted. 

Will was positive the creature was some sort of demon. He knew it because of the way that milky gaze told Will that the creature longed for his blood, and sought to sink its fangs into him. He knew the demon wanted to possess his soul. 

And Will… well, Will found himself curious more than anything else. So, after that first night, Will returned to the same window every night thereafter, and every night, at 3 in the morning, the demon would appear at the edge of the woods and look up at Will’s window. And every night, Will would be there, looking back at it. 

They continued like this for a week, but then something started to change. Each night, as the moon approached fullness, the demon would appear just a bit closer to the house, edging out from the woods on a clear path towards Will. 

Will could feel the tension growing between them. With every passing night, Will’s heart beat louder in his chest and he started to sweat with desire. 

And so now, as Will Graham sat in his bed sweating and shivering in anticipation as the wind howled around him, he watched the clock, waiting for 3am to strike. The moon rose, and the light of the now full moon shone into Will’s lonely house. 

But Will was anything but lonely. He was simply in the state of anticipating company. When 3am dawned at last, Will scrambled from his bed and ran to his back door, wrenching it open to let in the chill of the October night. 

And there, just as Will knew it would be, was the demon Will had been watching for weeks now. Yet instead of appearing at Will’s doorstep, the demon was now back at the edge of the woods. 

The demon stood eerily still, its white gaze fixated on Will from across the field. Will swallowed thickly, a tense desire in the air, and then the demon turned, walking back into the shadow of the forest. 

Somehow, despite the lack of direction, Will knew he was meant to follow. Will closed his door behind him and then began to run across the field, trying desperately to catch up. 

As Will entered the woods, the cold feel of dirt beneath his feet finally hit him, and he realized he was only wearing his boxers and a light tshirt, walking barefoot through the woods. 

And yet, Will still wasn’t bothered by it. He only shook his head slightly at himself before he looked around for the demon, frowning when he didn’t see it anywhere. He kept walking. 

And then, after several minutes, he came upon a slight clearing in the woods, where the light of the full moon shone upon a patch of grass, which had been encircled with thick branches and moss. 

It was a giant nest, and the demon stood in the middle of it, watching Will intensely. Will looked upon it, and then felt a gasp escape his lips as he realized the enormous cock that stood between the creature's legs, filling and lengthening just at the sight of Will. 

Will suddenly felt very, very warm, and the cold air didn’t bother him in the slightest, that’s how great the heat emanating from the demon was. The demon’s gaze landed pointedly on the bed of moss in the center of the nest, and Will’s cheeks warmed as he realized the demon had been building this nest for him, for… them. 

Will took a few hesitant steps forward, stopping a few inches from the demon. He reached out a hand and drew it against the inky skin, over the bony ribcage, and felt the coiled strength there. The milky eyes watched him hungrily, and then Will was pushed roughly to the ground and flipped onto his stomach. Will felt his own cock pulse with an aching need and he desperately rutted against the ground, seeking friction. 

His demon didn’t like that, however, for it growled deep in its chest and brought a thick hand down heavy onto Will’s ass, causing Will to cry out from the pain and the shock. The demon must’ve liked the sound, for he slapped Will’s ass again, so hard that it had Will launching forward so that his chest was pressed to the forest floor with his ass up. 

The demon made an appreciative noise in its throat as its large, clawed hands came forward and tore Will’s boxers from his frame in one swift motion. Will gasped at the sudden exposure, but found himself digging his hands into the moss below him, angling his hips up further, presenting for the demon. 

The demon gripped Will’s hips and then leant over him, rubbing its cheek against Will’s neck in an attempt to comfort him as the demon began to rub its cock across Will’s entrance. Will moaned at the ghost of contact, desperately needing more. 

At Will’s desperate moans, the demon reared back, slipping wet fingers into Will to work him open, stretching his rim generously. 

But even that wasn’t enough, for when the demon finally did mount him, Will cried out, arching his back as pain tore through him. The demon only grunted in response and pushed in further, and Will felt like he was being split in half. 

The demon began to pick up its pace, and the pain quickly gave way to searing pleasure as the demon’s thick cock, textured with ridges, pushed against his prostate relentlessly. Will spread his legs wantonly, and the demon held Will in place as it fucked him into the ground. 

Over his shoulder, he could see the demon’s massive antlers silhouetted in the moonlight, and the realization that the very same demon was now stuffing Will with its cock had Will spasming, coming untouched and coating the moss in his come. 

The demon behind him snarled, launching forward to pin Will to the ground as it bit into Will’s shoulder, drawing blood as its cock spurted a load of seed into Will. 

When the demon finally pulled out some minutes later, Will was scared he’d be turned away, but instead was pleasantly surprised when the demon pressed Will further into the mossy bed and then laid over him, covering Will with its body, to keep him warm and safe. 

There was something incredibly familiar about the demon, a sort of warm knowingness that permeated every pore of Will’s body. The realization had Will grinning. 

“Thank you, Hannibal,” he whispered. 

The demon reared its head, looking at Will with wider eyes. Then it laid back down, drawing Will closer into its arms and nuzzling against his head. Will smiled again and burrowed in for the long winter ahead.

Chapter Text

They’d been married a month now, and Charmont had to admit that their marriage, though initially arranged for political strategy, was well on its way to becoming something the poets would one day write about. 

Gellert had welcomed Charmont into his kingdom, his castle, and his heart. Though somewhat stern and mysterious to the casual observer, Charmont knew his royal husband was privately kind and generous. 

Not that Gellert wasn’t also still stern in addition to being kind and generous; in fact, Charmont had realized rather quickly just how dominant Gellert was in bed. The first time Gellert had taken him in hand, Charmont had blushed furiously and protested, but the longer Gellert had Charmont bent over his knee, the more pliant Charmont had become, and soon he’d been writhing for Gellert. 

The substantial age gap between them had certainly contributed to the Dominant/submissive dynamic that had unfolded between them. And Charmont found that he absolutely loved being Gellert’s submissive. 

Being king of a massive joint kingdom with Gellert took its toll on Charmont and he found that in times of stress or acting out, Gellert was there to put him back in line. Charmont had even come to crave the sweet sting of punishment, a reminder that Gellert loved him enough to correct him. 

Charmont’s 21st birthday was just a few days away, and the castle’s halls were buzzing with servants rushing to set up for the approaching celebration. Charmont was hiding behind a bush with his favorite courtier, Beverly, busy throwing grapes at Jimmy- the court jester- when a deep, rumbling voice from behind him sent a pleasant chill down his spine.

“Charmont,” the voice said, and Charmont found himself blushing as if he were still a virgin. But Gellert made him weak-- it’d only been a month, after all. 

“G,” Charmont said fondly, turning to smile at Gellert with a certain level of exaggerated bashfulness at being found throwing grapes like a child. 

Gellert wrapped a strong arm around Charmont’s middle and tugged him to his chest before leaning down to nip at his ear. 

“What a little terror you are,” he growled. “I have half a mind to take you over my knee right here, in the view of the entire kingdom.” 

Charmont’s cock twitched at the thought even as his cheeks burned. 

“G,” Charmont whined, turning to nuzzle his cheek against Gellert’s stubble, pleased when the older man let out a small noise of appreciation. 

“Relax, darling, or I shall be tempted to take you here and now and I don’t believe the court would appreciate such a view.” 

Charmont laughed, turning so he could face Gellert directly. 

“What is it, my King?” 

Gellert smiled softly at him, a privately indulgent thing. 

“I have just come to ask you to do me a favor, my King,” Gellert responded. “Stay away from the Southern Garden for the next few days, hmm? I would rather not spoil part of the surprise for your birthday celebration. Will you be a good boy for me, Charmont?” 

Gellert pulled back to look down at Charmont sternly, his piercing blue eye and warm amber eye promising swift punishment should Charmont disobey. Charmont nodded quickly. 

***

Charmont, by nature, was a brat. 

He couldn’t help it. It was just the way the Universe had made him, and knowing that Gellert had given him explicit instructions not to do something made Charmont want to do it all the more. 

That very evening, once he made sure Gellert was sleeping soundly beside him, Charmont snuck from their bed, flitting down the marble hallways until he reached the Southern Gardens. 

As he neared the garden, he heard murmuring voices and then a bright orange light filled the air before a wave of heat hit him. 

Curious about the source of the racket and the light, Charmont crept closer to the garden wall to peer through the thick bushes. What he saw made his jaw drop. 

There, in the center of the garden, was an enormous dragon, breathing fire at the dragontamers circling it, trying to get it to calm down. The dragon was a deep blue, its scales almost electric, and it had spiked ridges down its back. Giant wings stretched out to the sides and Charmont could feel the ancient magic the creature possessed. 

Charmont’s heart warmed as he thought about Gellert arranging this for him. Dragons were extremely rare, and only very powerful wizards usually commanded enough respect to be allowed access to one. It seems Gellert had played on his strengths. All to surprise Charmont. 

And here Charmont was… running that surprise. Guilt swept through him and he turned, about to head back to their bed, when that same rumbling voice sent a shiver up his spine, but this time it wasn’t pleasant at all. 

“Not so good after all, then, hmm, Charmont?” tsked Gellert, meeting Charmont’s gaze as he stood before him, arms crossed tightly over his chest. 

“G, I’m sorry-” 

“Save it, dear boy,” Gellert spoke lowly before turning around and marching back to their bedroom, knowing that Charmont wouldn’t dare to not follow him back. 

As soon as their chamber doors swung shut behind them, Gellert sat upon the bed and patted his lap expectantly. Charmont squirmed, hesitant, and then Gellert snapped, immediately divesting Charmont of his clothes so he stood completely bare before him. 

Charmont didn’t need to be told twice. He lowered himself over Gellert’s lap, head down, ass up and within perfect range for Gellert’s hands. 

Gellert pressed down on the small of Charmont’s back as he ran hand over Charmont’s smooth buttocks before he brought his hand down, hard, and the slap echoed out throughout the room with Charmont’s cry of pain. 

“I gave you explicit instructions, and you disregarded them, naughty boy. You were just desperate for a good spanking, weren’t you, darling boy?” 

Charmont whimpered, unable to answer as Gellert kept raining down blows to his ass, turning his cheeks a bright pink. Charmont’s cock was aching and he began to rut against Gellert’s thighs, which only earned him a particularly vicious slap. 

“Oh, darling, your ass takes my hand so well,” Gellert said, and Charmont could feel the heavy weight of Gellert’s cock beneath him. 

After several final harsh slaps, Gellert pulled Charmont to his feet and then pointed to the bed. 

“Hands and knees,” he said gruffly, and Charmont just nodded obediently, completely desperate. 

He pressed his chest into the bed and lifted his ass, displaying his freshly spanked cheeks to Gellert, who groaned appreciatively. 

A quick prepping spell and then Gellert was thrusting roughly into Charmont, bottoming out in a single thrust. He wasted no time before slamming back into him, his hips slapping against Charmont’s sore skin. 

Charmont whined into the bed, his moans growing louder as Gellert pounded him into the mattress. 

“Oh, G!” 

“That’s it, darling boy, you’re being so good for me,” Gellert said as he switched angles to thrust against Charmont’s prostate. 

“Come for me, Charmont.” Charmont came immediately, obediently, his back arching and his ass clenching around Gellert, who then stilled and emptied himself into Charmont, growling through it. 

As Gellert pulled out and settled back into the sheets, he drew Charmont closer to him. 

“You told me where the dragon was because you knew I’d go look, and you wanted to punish me,” Charmont said. Gellert smirked at him. 

“And you went to look because you wanted me to punish you.” Charmont smiled back. 

“Hmm. Perhaps. Thank you, G,” Charmont said softly. 

“Happy birthday, Charmont,” Gellert said, placing a chaste kiss to his temple and gathering him tight in his hands, intent on never letting go.

Chapter Text

***S3E6: Dolce AU/Canon-Divergence***

“If I saw you everyday, forever, Will, I would remember this time.” 

The words sliced through the air and flew like blades towards Will’s chest; a parry to the right to avoid the cut and yet the blades landed. Will drips with errant love like blood. 

Words are exchanged and Will can scarcely process what is said-- he is too busy drinking in every inch of Hannibal’s face, cataloguing every cut, wrinkle, and imperfection. God, he’s missed Hannibal. 

“I’m curious whether either of us could survive separation.” The words fall from Will’s lips unprompted and he doesn’t regret them because they’re true. Will doesn’t quite think he could survive Hannibal’s death. 

Surely Hannibal’s death is synonymous with Will’s own. 

“Me freeing myself from you, and you freeing yourself from me- they’re the same.” Hannibal says it with such conviction and god it hurts because it’s true. Neither of them know how to end this cycle of violence; it seems that the color of the other’s blood is the only acceptable payment for retribution. 

“You and I… have begun to blur,” Will says, his heart thudding in his chest as it falls from further into the dark expanse of that hidden corner of his soul. 

This love belongs locked far away, never to be uttered, never to be felt, Will tells himself. He tells himself this multiple times a day. He’s still unsure whether he believes it. 

“Shall we?” Hannibal is looking at Will, and Will feels nothing but the familiar rise of panic in his chest. 

“After you,” he responds, fixing Hannibal with a gaze that he hopes says, ‘I’m so sorry this world has been so cruel to us. Perhaps in another world…’ 

The Italian sun is hot on Will’s face and sweat begins to trickle down his neck and onto his suit, which he’d chosen specifically for his reunion with Hannibal. 

The thread hugging his body is an accusation; a constant reminder of just how deep Will is when it comes to Hannibal. 

Chiyoh’s words from the train float back to him, ‘You are afraid that if you do not kill him, you will become him.’ ‘Yes,’ Will had answered. 

The knife sits heavy in his pocket, the metal practically itching to be used, burning a hole in his pocket. 

He glances at Hannibal out of the corner of his eye, sees the other man smiling faintly as the sun falls on his upturned face. Will longs to run his fingers through that hair, to allow himself the sensation of being known. 

Will cannot kill him. 

But Will can mark him. Will can give Hannibal a scar to remember him by; a sort of matching scar to Will’s own. One that connotes passion, and desperation, never hatred. 

Will does not pull the knife in the street. Too many bystanders. Instead, he waits until Hannibal has guided him inside of an empty Italian apartment- not Hannibal’s own, probably a victim’s- and when he knows they’re alone, Will pulls his knife. 

Hannibal says nothing as Will throws him against the nearby wall, does not fight back as Will flashes the silver in Hannibal’s view. Hannibal’s eyes just brighten, almost fondly, and Will growls before he rips Hannibal’s shirt from his chest, exposing his skin. 

“You’re fucking mine, Hannibal,” Will says, bringing up the knife to slash diagonally across Hannibal’s heart. It’s not a mortal wound, but it’s not shallow, either. Hannibal will need stitches, and it shall scar, but he will be fine. 

Will takes his knife and slashes his knife in another diagonal line, crossing over the first cut to form an ‘X’ over Hannibal’s heart. 

Hannibal’s pupils are blown wide now and he’s breathing deeply, but Will knows it's not from the pain, it’s from desire. Will smirks as he drops the knife and places his hand over Hannibal’s heart, digging his nails harshly into the bleeding gashes he’d left in his skin. 

“This,” Will says, clutching right above Hannibal’s beating heart, “belongs to me.” Hannibal nods but then finally parts his lips to speak. 

“It always has, Will. Since the day I first met you, my heart has been yours,” Hannibal says, his amber gaze intense, and it’s too much for Will. Rather than respond to that, he crashes their lips together, licking into Hannibal’s mouth possessively. 

Hannibal is all too happy to let Will take. For so long, Hannibal has given, and given, and Will has finally decided it’s Hannibal’s turn to take whatever Will sees fit to give him. 

“Bedroom,” Will growls, and Hannibal’s hands clenched tightly around his waist, nodding. He guides them to a large bed,  and Hannibal looks at him with a raised eyebrow, clearly content to let Will decide how to proceed. 

Will pushes Hannibal onto the bed and straddles his lap, grinding their erections together as they continue kissing. Will keeps digging his hands into Hannibal’s open wound, watching the way the blood coats his fingers. 

Will needs Hannibal, is aching for him, and after they’re both undressed and tangled together again, Will reaches behind himself to work himself open, using Hannibal’s blood as impromptu lube. 

Hannibal moans at the sight and then he’s clenching Will’s ass, spreading his cheeks to work his own fingers into Will’s hole, spreading him open. 

When Will is ready, he yanks Hannibal’s hands away and pins them to the mattress as he lowers himself onto Hannibal’s cock, grimacing through the pain but pushing through until he’s bottomed out, his ass flush against Hannibal’s pelvis. 

Hannibal’s gaze looking up at him is warm honey, a fiery glaze, and Will feels the tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to fall. He begins to rock himself, and both men moan lowly, and Will leans forward to capture Hannibal’s lips again. 

“God, Hannibal, I feel you everywhere inside of me,” Will moans, and the sound makes Hannibal snarl, wrenching his hands free so he can grasp onto Will’s waist tightly and fuck up into him, pounding against his prostate. 

It’s so much, it’s too much, and Will just wants to feel Hannibal’s life in his hands. He snakes his hand around Hannibal’s throat, squeezing the sides tightly to constrict his airflow, and Hannibal lets himself be choked, even as he keeps thrusting into Will. 

“I told you once I’d kill you with my hands,” Will says as his muscles begin to clench, “let me love you with my hands now, too.” 

And with that, both men are coming, their cries blurring together. Will collapses on Hannibal’s chest, and Hannibal holds him tightly, pressing kisses across his face. 

“And with my hands, I shall love you, too,” he says, and Will smiles. Whole, content. At last.

Chapter Text

Will swore under his breath as he hefted the blasted things over his head-- they were much heavier than he’d initially anticipated. He tried carrying both of the large pumpkins in front of him but when he almost tripped over an errant shopping cart, he resolved to heft them both over his shoulders and amble the rest of the way back to his car. 

He was sweating, his curls sticking to his damp forehead, and his shoulders were burning. Of course he’d chosen to park as far from the farmer’s pumpkin stand as possible and by the time he neared his car, he was huffing. 

“Will?” came an unfortunately familiar voice. Will screwed his eyes shut, desperate to avoid the embarrassment, but Hannibal spoke again, louder this time as he drew closer. 

“Will, do you require some assistance?” 

Will was about to say absolutely not, he did not need help, thank you very much, but then Hannibal was already next to him and lifting one of the massive pumpkins off of his shoulder. 

Will glanced up at him sheepishly, blushing when he met Hannibal intense amber gaze. Hannibal gave him a soft smile. 

“I assume these are for Ms. Katz’ Halloween party this evening?” 

Will glanced back at Hannibal hopefully; he hadn’t known Hannibal had been invited. 

“Yeah. Didn’t know you were going, Dr. Lecter,” Will said, raising his eyebrow playfully. Hannibal smiled at him again, his lips a little tight. 

“Alas, I am not going. I was not invited, I merely overheard Mr. Price and Mr. Zeller speaking quite loudly about it. On several occasions, in fact.” 

Will’s blush deepend. Fuck, this is awkward, he thought, shifting on his feet nervously. Hannibal seemed unphased, however. 

“Do you have a date, Will?” Hannibal asked. 

Will sputtered, face heating. Surely Hannibal wasn’t--- ? 

At Will’s stunned look, Hannibal looked pointedly at the second pumpkin in his hand. 

“Oh. That. Erm, well,” Will said, before shaking his head as he laughed at himself in self-deprecation, “that’s my back-up pumpkin. I usually fuck up the carving on the first one, so I always buy a second one now.” 

Hannibal’s smile widened, and Will’s eyes found themselves unusually focused on the sight. He couldn’t stop staring at Hannibal’s mouth, suddenly curious if the man would taste similar to the autumnal cologne he wore. 

“Ah, I see. I suppose it’s for the best that I’m the one who was a surgeon-- apparently we couldn’t have trusted your hands, Will.” 

Will laughed, but the comment brought forth a memory of Hannibal, crouched in the back of an ambulance, elbow deep in a man’s guts. Will remembered the heat that had coursed between them that night, and the stirrings of dark desire he’d felt prickle in the back of his mind. 

Will wanted to feel that again. 

So, before he could overthink and talk himself out of it, Will turned to Hannibal. 

“Come with me.” 

Hannibal looked taken aback, his usual expressionless face shifting into surprise and then poorly concealed delight. 

“It would be my pleasure, Will.” 

***

Beverly opened her door on the second knock, and opened it to reveal Jimmy and Z standing next to her on either side, obnoxiously curious. 

“We saw you come up the drive,” Jimmy blurted, and Z elbowed him. Beverly laughed. 

“Well, we did. That’s true.” She looked between Hannibal and Will, noticing they’d each brought a pumpkin, and only one car. 

“You’re fucking your psychatrist now, Will? How unprofessional,” Beverly said teasingly, her face splitting into a grin as Jimmy and Z howled with laughter. 

Will’s face turned beet red and he stammered, trying to come up with a response, but Hannibal cut in. 

“Technically, I’m not his psychiatrist, we’re just having conversations, aren’t we, Will?” Hannibal said, turning to look at Will, face painfully casual with just a glint of mirth in his eyes. Will’s jaw dropped in mortification and Hannibal just smirked at him as Beverly led them inside. 

Later on, the group sat outside in the crisp evening air, carving their pumpkins as flames roared in a firepit nearby. 

As predicted, Will utterly fucked up his pumpkin. He’d been trying to carve a stag’s head but he’d been distracted by Beverly’s dog and ended up putting his elbow through it instead, leaving it to resemble… a squashed gourd. 

Will grumbled to himself as he looked around, envying Jimmy’s bee, Beverly’s cat, Z’s xbox controller, and Alana’s classic jack-o'-lantern. Will was relieved, however, to see that Jack seemed to also be struggling and he stifled a laugh as Jack swore and hit his pumpkin, likely threatening it with extra paperwork. 

Next to him, Hannibal was hunched over his pumpkin, extremely focused. Will sighed and grew restless, standing up to go grab a tumbler of whiskey and stand by the fire, sipping. 

After a few minutes, Hannibal came to stand behind him and leaned in and Will felt himself grow overwhelmed with the warm scent of the man. 

“Would you like to see the pumpkin I carved for you?” Hannibal asked, setting down the pumpkin behind Will and placing a candle inside. 

“For me?” Will asked as he turned, his jaw dropping open as his gaze landed upon a perfectly rendered multi-layered carving of Winston. Will’s heart grew warm and he found himself momentarily speechless. 

“I- oh, god, Hannibal, I-” Will stopped, turned to look at Hannibal, who was watching his face intensely, cataloguing every expression. 

The glow of the fire warmed the amber in Hannibal’s eyes and they now practically oozed like melted honey. Will surged forward and cupped Hannibal’s face in his hands and captured his lips with his, slotting their mouths together. 

Hannibal kissed him back immediately, his fingers creeping up Will’s neck to run through his curls. Heat flared between them and Will felt breathless; Will had never felt so free, so cherished. 

“Hannibal,” Will whispered as they pulled apart, resting their foreheads together. 

“I know, Will. I know,” Hannibal replied, and they both knew that in that moment, when their souls had finally collided, their worlds would never-- could never-- be the same.