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Summary
“We… culinary folk, have a saying…” He pressed a gentle kiss to Will’s carotid artery, making him shiver and flinch. His breath hitched. Anger and arousal fumed in him all at once, forcing his fists to clench until his knuckles blanched.
“What is this… saying, Dr Lecter?”
He took Will’s earlobe between his teeth, giving him a gentle nip before continuing, “our saying? Fat… carries the flavor.”
Will couldn’t hold out any longer. His eyes rolled back, a soft moan escaping him, as he fell back against the doctor. Hannibal carefully held him up, steadied him, then adjusted his flannel, pulling it back down over his belly. He noted that Will was quite hard now.
“Glad to see that your circulatory system is functioning properly,” he said, smirking.
Will was silent with resentment, then he muttered, “shut up.”
“Make me.” Hannibal grazed his teeth across him. “You know you want to.”
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will's struggling with a lil bit of body dysphoria and hannibal helps him out :3