Will trickles lube onto his fingers, circles Hannibal’s hole with the tips of two, not yet pushing in. Hannibal lefts out a soft breath, grips the headboard tighter, his hole clenching. Will moves his touch higher, presses down on Hannibal’s perineum.

Hannibal /moans/, thighs drawing closer against his flushed chest, the muscles on his left calf twitching.

Will keeps the pressure of his fingers firm against that sensitive part of skin while bringing his thumb to Hannibal’s hole. He starts to push in, steadily forcing it

past the immediate resistance till Hannibal’s hole opens up for the penetration, the thick digit effortlessly sliding in.

“Will…” Hannibal gasps, the veins on his forearm standing out as he clutches the headboard in a white knuckled grip.

Will knows Hannibal knows better than to move his arms, than to touch him. It fills Will’s chest with warmth, to know Hannibal is willing to give him this, on Will’s terms. Not many people have been in the past. Even after telling them what he likes, what he doesn’t like,

they would nod and say, /sure/, then later try to touch him anyway, making Will bring everything to a stop, making him gather up his clothes and flee, frustration and hurt weighing heavy in the pit of his stomach.

The first time he and Hannibal had kissed, Will afterwards being unable to tell which one of them had initiated it, Will had thrilled at the intimacy, hands framing Hannibal’s face, licking into his mouth, the tip of his tongue tracing the sharp edges of Hannibal’s teeth,

them sharing the same breath feeling just as pleasant as Will had always secretly imagined it would.

When Hannibal’s hand had made its way between his thighs Will had grabbed his wrist, wrenching that unwanted touch away from his soft member, taking a step back,

hissing out a firm /no/ between his teeth.

Of course Hannibal had wanted to talk about that, coaxing Will into once again explaining to yet another person how his peculiar comfort levels towards sex and intimacy worked. And Hannibal had taken it all in,

/listening/ in a way Will feels no one else had ever done before. Hannibal had used words like /asexuality/ and /a certain kind of sex repulsion/ like those were universally understood concepts and not something that had made Will feel throughout his life like there was

something fundamentally wrong with him.

Hannibal had said he wanted this, wanted Will just the way he was. Will had smiled a bittersweet smile, knowing there would eventually become a limit even to Hannibal’s patience and acceptance,

no matter what the man might fool himself into thinking.

A month later, Hannibal still hasn’t shown any signs of regret.

Will repositions his hand to push two fingers inside Hannibal, watching transfixed as that furled hole sucks them in. He starts to move them back and forth

inside Hannibal’s snug channel, scissoring them, every now and then pulling them fully out to pinch the rim of Hannibal’s hole with his fingernails, enjoying the way it makes Hannibal’s breath hitch.

“Do you want my fingers or the dildo?” Will asks, lifting his gaze to Hannibal’s face, moving his left hand to Hannibal’s chest, combing his fingers through the coarse grey hairs there. Hannibal pushes up towards the contact, back arching into a bow.

“Your fingers, if you wouldn’t mind,” Hannibal says with an unsteady voice, polite even in this.

Will places a kiss to the side of Hannibal’s knee. “Of course I won’t.”

He adds more lube, pushes a third digit in, then a fourth. He fucks Hannibal with them, slow and languid,

steadily picking up the tempo to match Hannibal’s breathing. He finds Hannibal’s prostate, rubs firmly against it, graces it with his nails.

Hannibal’s breath stutters, the muscles on his soft stomach tightening, sweat glistening on his forehead, on his neck.

“Please…” he breaths out, eyes scrunched shut.

Will ‘hmms’. “Too much?” he asks conversationally, trapping that swollen nub between his fingers, placing his chin to rest on Hannibal’s raised knee, watching his face.

Hannibal nods frantically, gritting his teeth.

Will chuckles. “Too bad,” he says. He withdraws his fingers, just slightly, before fucking them back in, repeating the motion over and over, every inward thrust connecting with Hannibal’s prostate.

Hannibal writhes and pants, breathless ‘ah’ sounds escaping from his lips,

never letting go of the headboard. His left leg reflexively kicks out, straightens against the bed. Will grabs the back of Hannibal’s right thigh, bends it backwards, closer against Hannibal’s chest to make him better see his fingers fucking into his hole him.

Will pulls his digits out till only the tips remain inside, keeping Hannibal stretched around them.

“Hannibal. Look at me.” Hannibal slowly opens his eyes, his arousal hazy gaze meeting Will’s. Once Will’s sure he has his attention, he continues;

“I’m going to push in one more time. Think you can be a good boy for me and come from that?”

A shiver runs through Hannibal, his hole clenching where it's being held open. A whine leaves his throat, body trying to rut against Will’s fingers. Will lets go of his thigh,

swats him once on the pale flesh there, the impact sharp, leaving behind a red mark.

“No. Stop it,” Will says, letting an edge of steel slide into his voice. Hannibal whines louder, stills himself.

“Yes. I can be good,” he finally answers, words coming out slightly slurred.

Will smiles, caresses the reddened skin. “I know you can,” he says and pushes his fingers in, hard and without finesse, the inside slide of them once again forcing Hannibal’s rim to accept the stretch of four digits. Will hits Hannibal’s prostate and Hannibal throws his head back

on a low scream, coming against his own stomach, some of his release landing on his chest.

Will rubs against Hannibal’s prostate till the aftershocks of his orgasm have left him, till it stops being pleasurable, till Hannibal tries to twist away from the contact,

body oversensitive. Will continues torturing him a minute or two more, enjoying the way Hannibal trembles under his hands, high hurt noises leaving his throat.

“You’re taking it so well…” Will murmurs affectionately. Hannibal sobs, tries to still his body for Will’s use.

Finally Will relents, removes his fingers. He moves up the bed, lying on his side, placing a kiss on Hannibal’s cheek. “You wanna let go of the headboard?” he asks, fingers playing with Hannibal’s cum matted chest hairs.

Hannibal takes a few deep breaths, like he’s considering Will’s words. “I think I’m good, thank you,” he finally says, turning his face towards Will’s, expression soft and open and so full of adoration it makes something inside Will’s chest ache with affection.

They stay quiet for a few heartbeats, just looking at each other.

“Sooo…” Will says, breaking the silence, an impish smile rising to his lips. “You want to watch me masturbate with a dildo? The new one with the knot?“

Hannibal’s pupils dilate anew, his spent cock giving a small twitch in interest. They both know he’s way past the years where he could get hard again after such a short period of time.

“I would love to,” Hannibal says, finally letting go of the headboard to touch Will’s cheek, rolling to his side to press a tender kiss against his lips.

Will ‘humms’ into the contact before gently pushing Hannibal away.

“You don’t have to watch from the chair, this time. You can stay at the foot of the bed, if you want.”

Hannibal looks at him, eyes full of emotion Will’s too afraid of naming. “Thank you,” Hannibal says, voice somber and serious, and Will hears the unsaid /for your trust/.

Hannibal moves to the foot of the bed, arranges a pillow behind his back, eyes trained on Will. Will grabs the tube of lube and the new dildo and makes sure to give Hannibal a good show.

//end//

Ace dom Will is in the hoooouse!