cw // nsfw , a lot of hannigram smut , a lot of love
Another WIP excerpt of the seventh Benefaction story, Overtures.
Begins shortly after what I posted yesterday. The corpse is only implied from here on out.
And yes, this is basically the entire story.
Another WIP excerpt of the seventh Benefaction story, Overtures.
Begins shortly after what I posted yesterday. The corpse is only implied from here on out.


Benefaction, for those unfamiliar with the series (not that you need to have read it to enjoy this): https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916554
The excerpt I posted yesterday: https://twitter.com/toomanyfeelings/status/1384232512579268613?s=19
The excerpt I posted yesterday: https://twitter.com/toomanyfeelings/status/1384232512579268613?s=19
Picture of the toy used in lieu of a detailed in-story description, as that section still needs to be written:
Part 1 of 3.
After his shower, Will takes an amber colored bottle from the counter -- not out of place in the assortment of elegant containers -- and pumps a generous portion of the lubricant into his hand.
After his shower, Will takes an amber colored bottle from the counter -- not out of place in the assortment of elegant containers -- and pumps a generous portion of the lubricant into his hand.
Leaning over slightly, he reaches behind himself and coats the outside of his entrance before breaching with one finger, then a second. He applies more than he'd usually use with this toy; he knows it likely won't be the only thing inside him tonight.
The toy slides in smoothly and Will moans at the weight of it. The size is so deceptive, it presses heavy against his prostate and it leaves him feeling full. He gently fucks himself with it before letting go.
Gravity pulls it against his rim, wanting to take it from his body, and he clenches to hold it in, shuddering as the bulbous tip drags just right. He releases and repeats the motion, again and again, until his pelvic floor muscles take over, moving the toy automatically.
He catches his reflection in the mirror, and watches as the pleasure washes over his flushed face, his lips parted and his eyelids heavy.
It's too soon for him to get hard again, but the pressure on his prostate causes his cock to leak clear fluid, drops hitting the tile floor.
It feels so good -- too good -- and Will has to stop the motions by grabbing the ring, knowing that he is only moments from getting lost in this act. He takes a deep breath and straightens.
Cleaning up, Will notices a small glass vial on the counter. It's a new addition among the assorted bottles and containers. Sniffing its contents confirms his suspicion: it's the same lavender and citrus oil Hannibal had used for his gift.
Will dabs it on his neck before leaving the bathroom, completely nude.
When Will enters the guest room, Hannibal is sitting on top of the bed's covers, tablet in hand and his reading glasses perched at the end of his nose.
When Will enters the guest room, Hannibal is sitting on top of the bed's covers, tablet in hand and his reading glasses perched at the end of his nose.
As Will makes his way to the bed, Hannibal stares openly, his hunger just as intense and exhilarating as it was at the very beginning. It's a hunger Will believes will never be sated.
Will climbs upon the bed and sits astride Hannibal's lap.
Will climbs upon the bed and sits astride Hannibal's lap.
He takes Hannibal's tablet and glasses from him, placing them on the nightstand. Hannibal clasps Will's waist and leans in for a kiss, first diverting on his way to nip at Will's throat, the use of the scented oils not escaping him.
When their lips finally meet, Will presses into Hannibal's mouth, starving for it. There's an intensity and strange clumsiness to it all, like they haven't kissed in ages. After they part, Will realizes it feels this way because it's true.
God, it's been weeks, nearly a month. Despite living in the same space and sharing the same bed, Will hadn't seeked him out, nor had Hannibal initiated any contact before this evening.
And Hannibal hadn't spoken of it at all, had never questioned or prodded. He had just waited for Will to come back to him, and when he hadn't, Hannibal had brought Will a gift.Â
Will presses their foreheads together, swallowing against the lump lodged in his throat.
Will presses their foreheads together, swallowing against the lump lodged in his throat.
"I assume we're sleeping here tonight?" he asks.
"Yes. A new mattress will be delivered tomorrow afternoon."
Will laughs softly and says, "I didn't make a mess."
"Yes. A new mattress will be delivered tomorrow afternoon."
Will laughs softly and says, "I didn't make a mess."
He's certain the replacement has more to do with Hannibal's jealousy at Will finding pleasure in a body that is not his -- even if it was one he'd provided -- than any possible residual mess.
Hannibal clicks his tongue. "Pity. You could have."
Hannibal clicks his tongue. "Pity. You could have."
His hands slide down to cup Will's ass, his fingers spread wide.
"I'll keep that in mind for next time," Will says, entertaining the thought for a moment before dismissing it. With no heart pumping and the lack of a blood splatter, the idea doesn't hold much appeal.
"I'll keep that in mind for next time," Will says, entertaining the thought for a moment before dismissing it. With no heart pumping and the lack of a blood splatter, the idea doesn't hold much appeal.
"Next time." Hannibal smiles, pleased. "You enjoyed it then?"
"You know I did." Will's hands rake across Hannibal's chest before resting on his shoulders. "Thank you. I feelâŠsoothed. Settled." Seen.
"You know I did." Will's hands rake across Hannibal's chest before resting on his shoulders. "Thank you. I feelâŠsoothed. Settled." Seen.
"Satisfied?" Hannibal asks, even as his fingers slip between Will's cheeks, finding the toy nestled there. He moves the toy once, smiling wider as a shiver goes through Will's body.
Will kisses Hannibal again and then pushes him down into the pillows until his face is level with Will's groin. "Almost," he says, shuffling closer on his knees.
He takes his cock in hand and presses the spongy head against Hannibal's bottom lip, dragging it down to bare his teeth. "Make me come again."
tbc...
tbc...
Part 2 of 3.
Will feeds his soft cock into Hannibal's willing mouth, stroking Hannibal's cheekbone with his free hand as he's taken in.
Will feeds his soft cock into Hannibal's willing mouth, stroking Hannibal's cheekbone with his free hand as he's taken in.
Will doubts he'll be able to get fully hard, but he knows he will come regardless, with Hannibal guiding the toy inside him more surely than Will's own muscles can, massaging the gland as he sucks.
Will moves his hands to grip the headboard. He closes his eyes and focuses on feeling and not moving, letting Hannibal do all the work to make him come.
He feels Hannibal's breath from his nose, the steady press and pull of the toy, the fluid as it begins flows from him and onto Hannibal's waiting tongue. He feels Hannibal swallowing it down, the barest flutter of his throat.
Hannibal knows exactly how to do this, his medical knowledge merged with his intimate study of Will's body, and he could have Will over the edge in minutes.
Likewise he could have Will skirting it for an hour or longer until he's been milked dry, denying him actual release and yet leave his body and mind feeling warm with something just as sweet.
Time stretches and everything narrows down to steady pressure and gentle suction. Will's leaking so much, like he always does. He'd been so embarrassed and fascinated by the amount of it the first time Hannibal had touched him like this.
Will had been on all fours, his head hanging down and watching the stream of fluid flow from his cock and onto the sheets. Hannibal had been unrelenting with his fingers, stretching him wide and massaging the gland insistently.
He'd bitten at the meat of Will's ass throughout, so many deep bites.
For days after it had been impossible for Will to sit for long without getting hard, the ache of the bruises and the lingering soreness within causing him to reach for Hannibal to make it all better again by making it worse.
Will groans at the memory, widening his knees a little more and lowering his stance to slip further inside. Hannibal makes a sound low on his throat that Will can feel and it encourages him to go deeper, as deep as he can with Hannibal's head in this position.
Hannibal's throat spasms and constricts around him, and Hannibal digs the blunt nails of his free hand into Willâs ass. Will is pulled deeper until Hannibal's choking and the toy is jammed so hard against Will's prostate that it hurts.
The suddenness of the pain combined with so much pleasure tips Will over the edge, his whole body convulsing as he releases down Hannibal's tight throat.
It seems to go on and on, Hannibal pressing the toy firmly against Will's prostate as he takes in everything Will can give. Will's hands slip on the headboard as he tries to brace himself, tears welling in his eyes, everything teetering on the precipice of discomfort.
Reluctant, Will reaches back and stills Hannibal's hand, interlacing their fingers when Hannibal releases the ring of the toy.
Will draws away, his cock falling from Hannibal's mouth, a string of come and saliva connecting them before breaking.
Will draws away, his cock falling from Hannibal's mouth, a string of come and saliva connecting them before breaking.
Together they pull off Hannibal's pajama pants so they can lie skin to skin. Will feels feverish, with every nerve singing as he lies on top of Hannibal, tasting himself on Hannibal's tongue.
tbc...
tbc...
Part 3 of 3.
Hannibal pulls the plug out, his fingers returning to rub lightly over Will's hole before resting on the small of Will's back.
Will runs his thumb across the fading scar on Hannibal's right cheekbone.
Hannibal pulls the plug out, his fingers returning to rub lightly over Will's hole before resting on the small of Will's back.
Will runs his thumb across the fading scar on Hannibal's right cheekbone.
He kisses the still healing one above it, crisscrossing through his eyebrow, a mark from their last hunt in Buenos Aires before coming to La Plata. Their sex trafficer prey had landed a few lucky blows on Hannibal before Will had intervened.
By the time Will was finished with him, none of the organs remained viable, but Hannibal hadn't minded. The following evening he'd taken Will to the finest closed-door restaurant in the city for a private five-course dinner.
After dessert, he'd paid the chef and waitstaff extra for their discretion before bending Will over the table, fucking him slowly, a stream of praises whispered in Will's ear as his moans filled the restaurant.
This insane, dangerous life. Nothing like what Will thought he wanted or needed, but everything he does.
"I love you," Will murmurs, kissing the shell of Hannibal's ear, words he doesn't feel encapsulate how he feels, but has few others to give.
"I love you," Will murmurs, kissing the shell of Hannibal's ear, words he doesn't feel encapsulate how he feels, but has few others to give.
"And I you, my love," Hannibal says, his voice raspy. He kisses Will's cheek, like he had earlier before leaving Will with his gift.
Will burrows his face into Hannibal's neck, breathing in deep before speaking again. "And I love this. I love everything about this life, about us. I love everything we are, everything we can and will be."
He pulls back, cradling Hannibal's head in his hands. "Everything feels like it should. It feels like how it always should've been." His chest aches. There's only one thing he can do to ease it.
"Marry me, Hannibal."
"Marry me, Hannibal."
Will suddenly finds himself rolled onto his back, with Hannibal hiking Will's legs up around his waist and sinking inside without any preamble.
Will cries out, the stretch and the depth much greater than that of the toy, the angle battering his sore prostate as Hannibal fucks him slow and deep. Itâs all far too much after coming so soon before, and it is absolutely perfect.
Will pulls Hannibal closer and tilts his hips, still wanting more as his nails claw into Hannibal's back. The tears fall now, from pleasure and pain and an all consuming need of little else than this terrible and beautiful man.
Will recites a breathy mantra of "marry me, marry me, marry me" into Hannibal's ear, like he's said "fuck me, fuck me, fuck me" so many times before.
Will pulls Hannibal away from his neck, and looks him dead in the eye. "Answer me, goddamn you."
Will pulls Hannibal away from his neck, and looks him dead in the eye. "Answer me, goddamn you."
Instead, Hannibal pulls out and comes over Will's belly with a low groan. No sooner has he done so that he's sliding his fingers inside Will, pushing harshly against his prostate.
Will jolts like he's been electrocuted. "Hannibal, I don't think--"
"You can," Hannibal says, pressing down on Will's perineum with his thumb. Will isn't successful at suppressing the incredulous sound he makes as a small spurt of fluid emerges from his cock.
"You can," Hannibal says, pressing down on Will's perineum with his thumb. Will isn't successful at suppressing the incredulous sound he makes as a small spurt of fluid emerges from his cock.
It only encourages Hannibal more and he continues massaging the gland inside and out. He takes Will's soft cock into his free hand, stroking it and rubbing his thumb over the sensitive tip, smearing the fluid that is still somehow emerging.
"Okay, okay," Will assents, digging his heels into the bed, providing leverage to push against Hannibal's fingers. He's soaked in sweat when he comes again; it's mostly dry, just a dribble of fluid running down his shaft to join Hannibal's release pooled at the base.
Hannibal leaves and returns with a warm cloth, gently running it over Will's body. Will's helped into a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, and then the bed sheets are brought up to cover him.
He dozes, unsure for how long, but his eyes open to find Hannibal dressed again, all in black. Will doesn't need to ask why, nor does he feel a desire to offer his help. Hannibal will take care of this as well.
Sitting on the bed, Hannibal leans over to kiss Will's forehead. His mouth lingers before pulling away. "I'll be back later, love."
"Answer me first, you bastard," Will grounds out. "I accepted yours. Now accept mine."
"Answer me first, you bastard," Will grounds out. "I accepted yours. Now accept mine."
Hannibal takes Will's left hand and brings it to his mouth. He kisses the palm and then the ring finger, where the old tan line has long faded. Will knows the next one never will. He won't allow it.
Hannibal smiles, and with Will's hand still at his lips, he finally answers.
"Yes."
"Yes."
