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Will crawled from the van after Hannibal, catching his balance against the sun-warmed steel. His ears were ringing, hands shaking, the entire world still felt a little off-kilter, but that could be as much to do with the police van tipping over as with the fact that Hannibal - his Hannibal - was standing just steps away, working free the white mask that had held him so ineffectively captive.
He watched Hannibal tilt his head, turn it just so and groan softly as delicate bones clicked into place, watched him roll his shoulders as though stretching his wings. He had been so near, for so long, but always with a barrier between them. Bullet proof glass. Masks. Restraints.
Things that had once been the very things that brought them ever closer together.
No matter.
Will blinked languidly, watching his partner turn his elegant wrists next, freed from the uncomfortable cuffs that had held him. He took a breath to breathe him in, though he hadn’t the talent Hannibal did for determining a scent. The fact that he was near, the fact that he was just there , was enough for Will to fill his lungs with him.
He pushed away from the mangled van with a shove of his shoulder, and circled Hannibal to bend into the passenger window of a nearby police cruiser, the drive of which was still out cold from where he’d been incapacitated. Curious that the Dragon hadn’t gone for the kill here, when such victims were easy access. Curious but perhaps unsurprising; his pathology did not contain within it random killings.
Will disabled the radio, tossing it carelessly to the pavement at his feet, before walking around the front of the car to vacate it for the two of them. By the time he pulled up next to Hannibal, the man was poised and waiting for him, bending elegantly at the waist to look through the open window at Will.
“Going my way?” he asked.
Will drew his teeth over his top lip in answer.
They had a plan established, of course. They’d had one for months. To bait, and elude, and leave without a trace, a dead Dragon in their wake. The home Hannibal had under a different name was several hours away by car, and the cruiser would need gas as they went. Will tossed his phone from the window once they started driving, checked under his seat and under the steering wheel for more hidden radios, before finally settling back comfortably and bringing a hand to his lips.
He drove with just his fingertips against the wheel, casual, simple control that he exuded from every pore of his being. He didn’t look at Hannibal, whose eyes he could feel devouring him from the passenger seat. After a while, he let the corner of his lips tilt up.
“You wanted me to say please,” he murmured, and Hannibal hummed.
“I value politeness.”
“You play dangerous games,” Will countered, though amusement still tinged his tone. He flicked his eyes to the man at his side and smiled wider, fingers just catching against the expression, tugging his bottom lip just a little out of shape. Hannibal’s breath stuttered.
Then Will looked away again, dropped his free hand to the hand rest between their seats, wrist loose, fingers spread, and tilted his head against his shoulder as he watched the road.
Hannibal was almost vibrating beside him, always so proper, always so patient. But Will knew how to play that patience against itself, how to hit a discord that hurt Hannibal’s ears, that had him immediately wanting to reach out and fix …
He did reach out, a ghost of fingers over fingers, tickling just the hairs on the back of Will’s hand that stood up to meet the familiar warmth of Hannibal’s palm. Will flexed his fingers, Hannibal’s mirrored the motion, as though following a set choreography, unforgotten even in the time he’d spent locked away.
“Say please,” Will purred, eyes on the road, fingers settling to laxity again between them.
The doctor sat nearer, a bare shift of his shoulders that moved his entire form into Will’s space. Will didn’t ask again, and he didn’t look over. Ahead was an empty highway, dull and grey for miles, behind them much the same. He kept his foot on the gas, holding the cruiser steady just above the speed limit.
Hannibal leaned closer, his nose just grazing Will’s curls, just tracing the curve of his ear.
“Please, Will,” he asked. “May I touch you?”
Will’s teeth showed for a moment, a predatory glint he immediately schooled to something softer. Between them, he raised one finger, turned his hand over to rest palm-up. His other hand pressed to the wheel, his body seemingly unaffected by the proximity of his lover, the desperation radiating off him like perfume.
Will didn’t need Hannibal’s gift to sense that.
Permission given, Hannibal pressed his lips to the skin behind Will’s ear, tender and worshipful, and sighed against him, sending a ripple of goosebumps down Will’s form. He rested one hand against Will’s own, slotting their fingers together, and turned his nose against Will’s hair, breathing him in.
“I’ve missed you,” Hannibal whispered. Will’s teeth showed again.
“I know.”
“Please, Will,” Hannibal added, his smile carrying on his tone as he nuzzled warmly against familiar curls. “Will you touch me?”
Will curled two fingers over the wheel, a third tapped gently at the curve in the plastic. He tilted his chin, just enough to welcome Hannibal nearer, to allow him to scent Will there, as well, to press his lips to his pulse and feel it speed. Their joined hands Will moved to Hannibal’s lap, releasing his hand to turn his palm hot against Hannibal’s thigh instead.
The car didn’t waver from its lane.
“I’ve missed you,” Will replied after a time, turning his head just enough to draw his cheek against Hannibal’s hair as he pressed his forehead to Will’s shoulder; as close as he could get to being on his knees. “I’ve missed you like this. Entirely my own.”
His hand moved over the white overalls Hannibal wore, nails catching on the heavy weave that must have felt like sandpaper against his doctor’s sensitive skin. “Spread for me,” he commanded quietly, finding his words followed with a soft, sweet sound against the folds of his shirt. He turned his praise in a nuzzle against Hannibal’s head.
The car hummed beneath them, far from the purr of Hannibal’s Bentley, but it didn’t matter. Will walked his fingers towards the center zipper, knuckles teasing up and down it until Hannibal moved his hand to work it free, from his collarbones to below his navel, where Will’s fingers caught his again and squeezed in praise.
Will’s eyes never left the road, they didn’t have to. He slipped his hand between Hannibal’s legs and palmed his growing erection with an appreciative hum.
“Sit back,” he told him, and Hannibal complied with another lingering kiss to Will’s cheek. Will allowed himself to look, then, to turn his head for a moment to take in the relaxed form of Hannibal Lecter beside him, looking back at Will like he were the sun itself. Will squeezed his hand, enough that Hannibal’s eyelids fluttered, and turned back to the road.
“You haven’t come, have you?” Will asked him gently, fingers deft as he worked Hannibal to hardness through his underwear, never once changing his grip, never once turning his eyes from the dashboard. “Not since I told you that you could. Not since Wolf Trap, when I let you step out into the snow and kneel for Jack so I’d always know where you were,”
Will’s tone was nostalgic, dreamy. That night had been one of the hardest of his life. Patience Will had in spades, but letting go of things that were his … he’d had Hannibal up against the door, drawing his nails over his coat in lieu of his skin, whispering promises against the back of Hannibal’s neck as Hannibal arched his back for him and moaned. He’d held him close after, memorizing the pace of Hannibal’s heart as his doctor stroked his hair, kissed Will’s forehead, his cheek, his eyelids…
“I have,” Will added after a while, the heel of his hand rubbing deliberate and slow against Hannibal’s cock head, feeling the slick warmth of precome wet his palm. “Often. In bed at night, with my fingers buried so deep it hurt , but never felt like your cock,” Will licked his lips, sneaked a glance at Hannibal beside him, noting the rise and fall of his chest, the way his arms rested stiff at his sides, hands clutching to the seat beneath him.
“In the shower sometimes,” Will continued, amused, his foot pressing to the gas just a little harder, coaxing the speed up and up. “Imagining it was your throat, and not my hand, pumping me hard and swallowing me whole.”
“Will -”
“Tell me you’ve ached for me.”
“Every moment,” Hannibal told him, rough, throat clicking in the middle. “Of every day, I ached for you Will.”
“Tell me where you went, in your mind palace.”
“To your bed,” Hannibal replied, voice breathy. “At night, when you’d have woken to find me beside you. I imagined you reaching out to pull me near, hands in my hair, body against my own, lips brushing my skin.”
“What did I tell you, then?”
“Wait,” Hannibal repeated, sighing. “Wait for me.”
Will groaned then, shivering in his seat in pleasure as he felt Hannibal’s cock ache up against the thin cotton keeping it prisoner.
“Wait,” Will echoed, drawing his thumb almost fondly over Hannibal’s cock before letting go, bringing his hand to his mouth and drawing is tongue up the center, from the heel to the tip of his middle finger, making sure Hannibal could see. “Just a moment longer.”
He eased up on the gas, let the car coast until it started to slow, alone on the empty highway with no one behind and no one ahead. He guided it to off the road into the dusty stones and set it to park when it came to a stop on its own.
He didn’t need to command again, Hannibal leaned into his space and cupped Will’s cheek and kissed him, deep, and slow, and aching, as the last time their lips had met, behind the closed doors of Wolf Trap in winter. He kissed him until Will whimpered, until he set his own hands to Hannibal’s arms and drew them higher to rest against his throat, welcoming him in, taking his fill of him, for just a moment.
When they broke to breathe, Will dropped his head back, gave Hannibal his throat, his pulse, the sweat gathering in the hollow of his collarbones.
“Never again,” Will breathed, as Hannibal peeled his shirt open and kissed down the center of his body. “Never again, Hannibal, not for anything.”
Hannibal worshiped the scar he had left on Will, the cruel mark that stood as a memorial to his own possessive stupidity. He drew his teeth over the line of hair slipping into Will’s belt as he worked that open, and the button next, and the fly. He took Will into his mouth without preamble, and relished the whimper he drew from Will, relished the slight trembling of his fingers when Will set them to the back of Hannibal’s head and pushed him down further.
He spread as well as he could in the driver’s seat, one knee shoved up against the door, the other leg stretched out past the pedal as he let Hannibal swallow him down.
He didn’t need to be guided anymore, he didn’t need to be coaxed. No, Hannibal devoured Will of his own volition, he took everything of him and sated himself, simultaneously giving Will every ounce of his devotion, his submission, his obedience.
Will shuddered at the power he held, bringing Hannibal Lecter to his knees.
“God, Hannibal,” he groaned, rocking his hips up into his mouth, grasping his hair in a tight fist to hold him down, though he hardly needed to. “You drove me mad, once, and you haven’t stopped since.” Will hissed in pleasure, stomach tensing as Hannibal teased his teeth against the base of his cock. “ God don’t stop.”
Will’s skin flickered with goosebumps as they rushed from toes to teeth, and he tensed his thighs around Hannibal, who continued to diligently, lovingly, suck him down. Will wouldn’t last long, he’d been on edge for the last week, knowing their time was coming nearer, knowing that his part in their plan was invaluable, and he had to pull it off, he had to.
And he had.
He’d fooled Jack Crawford, he’d fooled Alana Bloom. He’d sat across from the love of his life as they engineered an accident and hoped they would survive it.
And now, he was coming with a cry, both hands clinging to Hannibal’s hair as he pulsed down his throat, his eyes closed and teeth bared on a hiss of pleasure when Hannibal moaned around him and swallowed everything he gave.
They had the world, now, ahead of them. They had an eternity, and then some, of this and so much more.
Will’s body relaxed like a puppet with cut strings and only then did Hannibal lift his head, turning it to catch Will’s palm to nuzzle into. He unfurled from between Will’s legs and caught his chin to kiss unresisting lips, smiling as Will smiled until they couldn’t press their lips together properly.
“What’s the meaning of trust?” Will asked him playfully, and Hannibal grinned before leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth as Will caught his breath. They had hours yet to drive and an empty road to welcome them.
But he could be patient. He had been, they both had, for months.
Will drew tickling knuckles beneath Hannibal’s chin and watched him through hooded eyes, ducking his head against his shoulder before letting him go. “Will you come for me?” he asked, watching Hannibal’s throat work in a swallow as he blinked acquiescence, silent, beautiful submission. Will hummed.
“Do,” he told him. “Just as you are. I want to lick you clean when we get home.”
Hannibal groaned, a low and purring noise, and pulled away to rest against his own seat once more. He held Will’s eyes, unblinking, as he slipped his own hand into his jumpsuit and stroked. Will watched him a moment, lazily put himself away, and waited until Hannibal’s breath was stuttering before putting the car into gear and peeling back onto the road.