Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Jus d’orange? Eau? Champagne?"

The flight attendant's voice was smooth and cultured for the benefit of her first-class passengers. Will watched her come down the aisle towards their seats — the very last row of plush and roomy leather — stopping on her way to query the few other passengers sparsely scattered throughout their quiet compartment.

"Monsieur?"

Her half-hearted question to the man passed-out at the front of the cabin would undoubtedly be fruitless. Will had watched the young musician-type upend a bottle of pills into his mouth before he and Hannibal had even claimed their seats. The man had caught Will’s eye and tipped a glass of Champagne towards him in a cheeky mock salute before downing it as a chaser.  He'd been asleep since take-off.  The flight attendant gave up on him quickly and continued her slow walk down the aisle.

"Jus d’orange? Eau? Champagne? Monsieur? Madame?"

"Pardonnez-moi s'il vous plaît?!"

The old man three rows up practically yelled it at the poor woman — leaning out into the aisle, one hand cupped around an enormous ear.  His eyes squinted at her dramatically, as though his inability to hear had something to do with his vision.  His elderly wife, asleep and snoring extravagantly against the window, didn't even flinch — either she was as deaf as him, or just immune to his hollering. The musician didn’t budge either. Besides Hannibal and Will, they were the only other people in first class.

Will watched the attendant fix her tired smile firmly in place, doing her best to show the old man what was on the silver tray she carried.  Poised as she was, her eyes betrayed her boredom, laced with just a hint of frustration. Will knew how she felt. They were already over six hours into an eight-hour flight, and Hannibal had been engrossed in his book for most of it.

Every so often he would reach out and touch Will, almost absently — a palm on his knee, a knuckle grazing his cheek, a warm hand squeezing his own. It was as if Hannibal was still driven to reassure himself that Will remained seated next to him.

But your nose is still stuck in that damn book… “The Social Evolution of Morality” …Seriously, Hannibal?  

Will couldn’t help but smile at Hannibal’s choice of reading material — at his inexhaustible ability to amuse himself on several levels at once. Although it drove him crazy sometimes, Will certainly envied him that ability right now.

Hannibal had offered him the window seat of course, but Will had been restless since before the flight — instead, he’d opted for the aisle so he could get up and pace if necessary.  Truth be told, Will was a little nervous. This flight, from France to Toronto, then connecting on to Cuba, would be one of the riskiest moves they had made since leaving North America almost a year ago.

It was also supposed to be their last. Cuba was where they hoped to stop running. Home . Is that even possible for us… after all this time?   The idea seemed surreal.

Will was too restless to read or sleep, and his nerves warred with his boredom as the flight dragged on. Fuelled in no small part by a few too many glasses of champagne, what had started as restlessness was now edging closer to recklessness — an almost punch-drunk need to distract himself bubbling up inside.

Truth be told, Will wanted to have some fun. Confined to this plane though, amusement had only so many possible avenues.

Fingers drumming on his arm-rests, Will let his head roll to the right, taking in his fill of Hannibal’s profile. Silhouetted against the small oval window, the golden sunset behind him illuminated his features with a molten halo. He was entirely too serene sitting there…entirely too composed.

How dare you look that good after so many hours sitting on a plane?  

A private smile twitched up the corner of Will’s mouth as he mulled over one possible way he could distract himself.

Shifting his body closer, Will threw a sharp elbow into Hannibal’s ribs, earning him a delightfully annoyed grunt—those remarkable eyes turning slowly to fix him in place with mock irritation, one eyebrow raised, pursed lips betraying begrudging amusement in spite of himself.

Having never yet discovered the limits of Hannibal’s indulgence towards him, Will persisted...he wanted to ensure Hannibal was paying close attention to the terribly important things he had to say.  Swinging yet another elbow into Hannibal’s ribs for good measure — not to mention the second beautifully indignant grunt he scored — Will cocked his head towards the old man across the aisle, now gesturing wildly at the attendant in a spectacular display of irritation.

"Hey.  I like his tweed jacket. Any chance of you throwing some tweed into the mix, Doctor ? Maybe round out the plaid?"

He fixed his gaze back on Hannibal, holding his eyes playfully, eyebrows twitching up in a coy question.  Will waited patiently for Hannibal to release the rueful smile he was trying in vain to suppress. It didn't take long before he was rewarded.

"We're going to Cuba, Will.  In the middle of summer. I suspect neither tweed nor plaid will be appropriate."

Will crossed his arms and legs in an exaggerated pout. "Hmm… well…that just won't do, will it? Do they sell plaid swim trunks? …I think we're both going to miss the plaid."

Leaning in closer, he pressed his chest against Hannibal's arm, lips hovering hot and close to his ear. "Then again, who says you get to wear trunks?  I didn't agree to the extravagance of a private beach for no reason."  

Barely suppressing a snort of laughter, Hannibal pressed his lips tightly together, trying to keep his smile from spreading any wider.  His eyes flicked almost shyly down to his lap. Beautiful . A blush from Hannibal was a rare catch indeed, but Will was a good fisherman.

He sat back in his seat, not bothering to hide his self-satisfied grin, his body angled to allow Hannibal a good long look. To his credit, Hannibal recovered quickly, legs still crossed elegantly at the knee, book open on his lap — but he had shifted in his seat slightly, turning more towards Will. Hooked but not landed .

Will could practically feel Hannibal's eyes on him now, roving possessively over his body with exaggerated appraisal — tracking up his stomach and chest, hovering for a moment on his throat.  They eventually followed Will's tongue as he slipped it out between his lips and wet the bottom one slowly, sucking it in and dragging back out between his teeth, deliberately, so that it would sit like an offering, red and glistening and faintly swollen. You hungry, Hannibal? Still interested in that book?

Will watched as Hannibal’s eyes snapped up to pin his gaze, his own tongue flashing discreetly between his lips, unable to hide the more obvious shift in his seat.

"Jus d’orange? Eau? Champagne?"

The flight attendant.  Will had all but forgotten her…or anything else for that matter. But this could be a new opportunity, a new piece for this game…

He kept his eyes locked suggestively on Hannibal for just a heartbeat — I'm not done with you yet — before turning his body completely away, exaggeratedly crossing his legs towards the attendant and bestowing on her a slow, warm smile that could only come from knowing Hannibal was watching him.

“Mmmm, I would love a whisky, please…if you have it…and is there any chance of a generous pour? I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.” He kept his tone light but coyly conspiratorial.

This time the attendant’s smile was genuine, her eyes warming to him immediately, a slight blush rising to her cheeks as he held eye contact just a second too long. “Oui…oui Monsieur, I’ll see to it personally if you'll give me but a minute…I…I believe I can find you something special.”

She turned her attention to Hannibal, a little flustered now, “…et vous, Monsieur?”

Hannibal’s expression was wryly amused. “Champagne, s’il vous plaît”.  She handed it to him from the tray with sparkling eyes and retreated back up the aisle in search of Will’s drink…but not before throwing him one last blushing smile. Will made a show of watching her go.

“I hope she doesn’t hurry.”

Will knew Hannibal loved to watch him toy with people, however benignly. Will had learned quickly that any display of aggression from him could whet Hannibal’s appetite…regardless of whether it came in the form of sex or violence…or something in between. Hannibal enjoyed watching him wield his sexuality like a weapon — a weapon that Will had never even known he possessed… before . It had been yet another decadent discovery afforded him in this new life together — one more delicious freedom. He had learned to sharpen it ruthlessly on the whetstone of Hannibal’s insatiable attraction, honing his newfound power on the man he loved. Hannibal never seemed to get enough of him using it. He liked Will aggressive, liked him feisty…all the better for both of them when Hannibal would finally assert his delicious control…

The sound of Hannibal quietly clearing his throat brought Will’s attention back to the task at hand…these run-away thoughts were definitely not going to help him...

Indeed, turning back to Hannibal now, Will found him already completely composed again, or at least pretending to be.  There he was, sitting in his plush leather seat, legs crossed in that damnably fetching way of his, sipping his Champagne, face set in that serene mask reserved entirely for public viewing… and his focus was already back on that bloody book.   Fighting back this time, Hannibal?

Annoying though it could be, Will had to admit that he found Hannibal’s self-possession incredibly erotic — that cool collection of his standing out in stark relief to what Will knew lay beneath the surface. Although he’d never admit to it, he loved nothing more than to see that composure crumble, knowing he was the cause. He loved Hannibal’s poise because he loved to be the one to crack it open. Even now Will could feel the lazy roll of arousal in his gut, that delicious challenge to penetrate Hannibal’s veneer. He knew where the seams lay in that impeccable person-suit, and he knew just how to coax out what lay beneath.

“You know I was thinking, Doctor … Private beach, our own villa, all those brand new rooms to discover…” Will snaked his body slowly out of his seat as he spoke, lithe muscles exaggerating a cat-like stretch as he moved out into the aisle.

Hannibal's eyes left his book, discreetly tracking every move he made, sliding over Will’s body as it bent and flexed. He knew this show was for him. Although his face still wore an expression of mild amusement, Will could already see that predatory hunger flashing out from behind the veil, betraying the heat that smouldered just below the surface. Will splayed his hands on the overhead compartment, resting his weight heavily against them and letting a low groan escape his lips as he arched his back in another suggestive stretch.

Dropping his head to look between his arms, Will fixed Hannibal with a coy smirk and a meaningful stare.

“So many possibilities waiting for us, don’t you think?”

Without waiting for a response, Will set to work slowly freeing himself from the grey sweater he had layered over a white v-neck t-shirt.  Suggestively dragging it over his head, he let the t-shirt ride up with it, revealing the scar on his stomach to great advantage. Reaching up into the overhead bin, he stowed his sweater…making sure his shirt continued to slide up his torso, giving Hannibal a good long look.

Will rummaged around for a minute — he had stowed something that might make things even more fun.  When he found it, he dropped his head forward once more, catching Hannibal’s eye suggestively as he stowed his toy in his pants pocket.

No matter how well Hannibal schooled his expressions, Will knew them like the back of his hand. The slight widening of the eyes, the twitch of his eyebrow, his breath coming just slightly faster. Hannibal was paying attention now, but he was still completely collected — sliding languidly back into his seat, eyes returning pointedly to his book, one elbow coming to rest on the arm of his seat, dangling the champagne flute from his fingers like a jewel.

“Possibilities, Will, are something we can choose to see wherever we are.” The smile ghosting on Hannibal's lips was barely perceptible but somehow still indulgently smug.

Undaunted, Will slid back into his seat, leaned over, and plucked the offending book deftly from Hannibal’s loose grip, making a show of shutting it without marking his place — the dangerous flash behind Hannibal’s eyes as they flicked up to meet his own was exactly what he’d been angling for.   There you are…I see you.

Will pressed his body even closer to Hannibal’s side, catching and holding his gaze with a coy smile, their faces close, sharing breath. The quiet danger sparking off of Hannibal spurred Will on as he slid his tongue out from between his lips and licked a long slow stretch up Hannibal’s neck, from the collar of his white shirt, up behind his ear, tasting him.

Hannibal’s sharp intake of breath was intensely gratifying. Will lingered briefly at his ear, exhaling hot against him; nipping his earlobe, hard, sucking it between his lips. The nub of flesh tasted musky and delicious on his tongue as he sucked and lapped at it, only releasing it slowly, dragging it roughly through teeth and hot breath…lingering…teasing…then abruptly pulling back from Hannibal, pushing away from him completely to collapse back in his own seat with a smirk.  Crossing his legs, Will flipped the captured book open on his lap and began thumbing through its pages at random.

Will watched Hannibal out of the corner of his eye. He could see Hannibal’s chest heaving slightly, betraying him, the slight flush to his face exposing the blood pumping hot through his veins. It took him a little longer this time to compose himself, sitting up straight, folding his hands elegantly in his lap with a beleaguered sigh. Every part of him radiated control now, but Will could feel the tension building between them like a static charge.

“Is there something I can help you with, Will?”

He may have been affecting exasperation, but Will could hear the dark smile ghosting behind his words.

Will let his smile spread suggestively but kept his eyes trained on the book.

“Well, now that you mention it, Doctor, I can think of a thing or two that I need. Not so sure you can help me with them here though.” He kept his voice tastefully low. Sexual exhibitionism was not something that either of them gravitated towards, let alone something they should risk now. But there are degrees of risk, aren’t there Hannibal, and if there’s anyone who can appreciate being a wolf amongst the sheep...

“Our desires are often heightened in direct proportion to the impossibility of their fulfillment. We often want what we can’t have, Will.”

Although his words were clinical, Hannibal’s velvet tone pulled at him, low and suggestive — that indulgent but dangerous purr Will’s body couldn’t help but respond to. “Are you feeling a little… restless perhaps?”

Hannibal knew the effect that tone had on him, and he wielded it now in decadent retaliation. Will felt it reach right down into his gut, making his cock twitch. Goddamnit, I’m like Pavlov’s Dog. He could already feel himself swelling slightly at the front of his pants, but did his best to keep his eyes coolly fixed on the book.

“Can’t have? Can’t? Hmm…well…that’s too bad, Doctor. I suppose if that’s the case, you should probably just go back to your book then.”

With those words, Will looked up and turned to Hannibal with a mischievous smile. Closing the book, he held it up and away, waiting for Hannibal to rise to the bait. “You’ll have to come and get it though… and there’s a price.”

Hannibal grinned wolfishly, finally giving in, “Hmm, so I get two things I want then?  How…delicious.”

Hannibal leaned forward, rising slowly from his seat. With a coy chuckle, Will pulled back even further, forcing Hannibal to come to him.  He watched as Hannibal’s muscles shifted beneath his jacket, moving slowly towards him like a stalking predator . Pulling the book back at the last second, Will allowed himself to be forced all the way down into his seat, Hannibal looming over him with that slight air of menace Will couldn’t help but love.

Hannibal’s hands gripped the armrests on either side of him, arms caging him in. Bending down, he whispered hot into Will’s ear.

“You always get what you want from me, don’t you, Will.”

Will pulled back to look him in the eye, a cunning smile on his lips. “And what is it you think I want from you, Hannibal?”

He watched as Hannibal’s eyes clouded over with dark lust, his hook finding its mark.

“This.”

Hannibal grabbed his chin with one hand, forcing Will to look up at him — hazel eyes blazing, amused and proud and hungry. Grazing his thumb across Will’s parted lips, Hannibal pushed his way inside; searching, owning, his thumb gliding over Will’s tongue, pressing down on it.  The invasion was tantalizingly brief, only enough to assert his control — pulling it free, Hannibal smeared a trace of saliva across Will’s mouth and onto his cheek, marking him with the evidence of his ready submission.

Will couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped him as Hannibal’s hand moved up into his curls, fisting a handful and using it to wrench his head back, fingers deliciously tight.   Yes.

He loved to feel Hannibal’s possessiveness coil around him, to know how entirely they belonged to each other. Will could feel himself losing the upper hand as Hannibal bent to kiss him, but the thought seemed far away, bordering on inconsequential…

They both flinched as the curtain to their compartment was suddenly drawn back with a metallic shriek — the flight attendant, no doubt on her way back with his whisky.  At least the interruption had jarred his senses enough for him to re-group. Not so fast, Hannibal…

Will expected him to back off immediately, but in a rare show of pointed disregard, Hannibal wilfully ignored the attendant’s approach. He looked as though he had no intention of giving up on his quarry now, still holding Will’s gaze and hair tightly as he leaned in to capture his lips.

Will let him get close, so close, their lips all but touching, parting around each other, breath shared...only at the last second splaying a hand against Hannibal’s chest, pushing back hard against the unyielding muscle of his chest. Will could feel Hannibal’s heart hammering against his palm, deliciously caged by both his suit and his decorum as he warred with himself — that thing inside him coiling and sliding under the surface. Their eyes met and held, danger and need sparking between them. Your heart only beats like this for me.

Will couldn’t believe that Hannibal hadn’t moved yet. He pushed harder with a coy smile and a slight shake of his head. Wait. The movement sent sensation shooting straight from his scalp to his cock — Hannibal’s grip on his hair had not budged, if anything, it had tightened. Will pulled against it anyway, wrenching his head to the left, trying to catch the eye of the flight attendant from under Hannibal’s arm.

The poor woman had halted in the aisle, clearly trying to decide if she could still back away discreetly. Her eyes darted between the two of them, face flushed, but Will could see the hint of a smile just beginning to show. Will caught her eye and smiled back at her, pinning her in place and denying her a quiet retreat.

For just a split second, none of them moved or spoke, frozen in an almost absurd tableau. Hannibal let the pause string out a second longer than Will would have thought him capable of…before suddenly standing, turning to face the attendant with that unfailingly cool dignity and charming smile, the beast tucked neatly back into its cage…for now.

His hand released its grip on Will’s hair, sliding down instead to grasp the back of his neck possessively; squeezing once, hard, before relaxing his grip and running his thumb through the curls at Will’s nape, sending a current of shivers down his spine.

Will cleared his throat. “So, you’ve…uh…found some whisky then…I...we…thank you.”  He felt himself blush at the obvious quiver in his voice. His head was spinning. He crossed his legs and smiled pleasantly at the attendant, hoping to hide his now obvious erection.

“You’ll have to forgive us, my dear.” Hannibal’s voice was infuriatingly smooth, his tone warm and ingratiating. “My husband and I are on our honeymoon.”

If Will had already taken a mouthful of his whisky, he would have spit it out. Husband?!

For the benefit of the attendant, he schooled his face into something resembling happy sheepishness. That’s a new one, Hannibal.

The flight attendant’s face was now flushed with a fiery blush, but considering the way her eyes appraised them both, Will was quite sure that embarrassment wasn’t it’s only cause. He knew how they looked together.  He was impressed with how quickly she pulled herself back together.   She’s doing better than I am.

“Not at all, Monsieur. Please accept this whisky with my congratulations. You are both very…fortunate.” Her eyes swept them over from head to toe, lingering last on Will.  Will couldn’t help but grin at the suggestive smirk she allowed to show on that final word. Atta girl.

She held Will’s eyes playfully as she passed the tumbler to him, but just as Will reached out for it, Hannibal’s hand swept in gracefully to intercept, plucking the drink from the attendant’s hand — deftly stealing both the glass and her gaze from Will at the same time.

Hannibal took a small sip of the drink, eyes closing around the flavour, savouring it. The attendant was transfixed…as was Will. They both watched Hannibal’s throat work as he swallowed, the shadow of stubble reminding Will of how it would feel against his throat or the inside of his thigh. Dammit, I’m a mess.

Hannibal’s possessive grip on the back of his neck tightened deliciously as he lowered the glass and waited for Will to take it from him.

“Mmm, a lovely choice.” Hannibal’s eyes were still on the attendant as he addressed her graciously. “I’m surprised you keep such a good whisky on board.  I appreciate that you can recognize how special he is to deserve such a vintage. In fact, you have gone so above and beyond for us that I can’t imagine needing a single thing more from you for the rest of the flight.”

Hannibal said it with a playful smile; but smooth as it was, it was an obvious dismissal…and a request. The flight attendant composed herself quickly, pausing for only a second to spare a glance around the all-but-empty cabin and its sleeping passengers. Her amused gaze settled back on them knowingly, cheeks even pinker.

“Of course, Monsieur. I do have some…duties to attend to.  I hope you won’t be terribly put out if I leave you to yourselves until we begin our descent.” She gave them one last shrewd smile; and without waiting for an answer, turned coquettishly and disappeared up the aisle.  

Neither of them spoke for a second, Hannibal’s grip on the back of Will’s neck tightening as they watched her leave — the screech of the closing curtain mingling with the snores of the other passengers.

Will couldn’t help but chuckle. “My my, Hannibal, that was bordering on rude…I’m sure she wanted nothing more than to serve.”

“I believe she can best serve us from behind that curtain.” Hannibal’s mouth twitched up in a smirk as he looked down at him.  His voice was low, sly and smooth. “What do you think, Will? You seem to be running this show. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you drugged the other passengers…and you certainly charmed the attendant.”

Hannibal squeezed his neck one last time, fingers coming up to grip his hair briefly before he let go and settled slowly into his seat. His tone was an intoxicating mix of pride and challenge, indulgence laced with heady desire. “And you seem to have an uncanny ability to get what you want.”

Will rose to the challenge, stalking towards Hannibal until he stood before him, their eyes locked together, daring . Although Will may have temporarily lost the upper hand, he knew could still win the war.

He let the tension string out between them for only a heartbeat before kicking Hannibal’s knees apart, moving in even closer between them, hands coming up to push Hannibal back by the shoulders. Hannibal resisted for a second, the scales between them poised in the balance, before finally allowing himself to be pushed back in his seat, seductive invitation and wilful surrender written all over him.

Will loomed over him, a mirror image of mere moments ago. Hannibal couldn't hide the deep inhale he took, filling his senses with Will's smell. Will brought his face in close, scenting up Hannibal’s throat and along his jawline to his ear.

He whispered into it, hot and close, “What I want is you, Hannibal.  It’s always you.”

Will heard Hannibal’s sharp intake of breath even over the plane’s engines, pulse quickening under his lips as Will kissed his way down his carotid.  Will brought his knees down to rest on either side of Hannibal’s hips, straddling him, melting against him completely. Hannibal let out a delicious sigh, almost a groan.

Reaching between them, Will slid his hands under Hannibal’s suit jacket, feeling the hard muscles of his back and chest tense against greedy palms, the soft give of chest hair trapped beneath the front of his white shirt. Will’s fingers scratched at it to feel the texture of the hair underneath before finding the raised nubs of Hannibal’s nipples beneath the cloth. Lapping at Hannibal’s neck, he ran his thumbs over them, feeling them harden under his touch.

Will could feel Hannibal’s cock hardening too, his body thrumming as he resisted the urge to rut against him already — hands gripping where they held his shoulders, clearly aching to pull Will down against his swelling erection.

Rolling his hips provocatively, Will brought his mouth to rest just over Hannibal’s parted lips, drinking in his fast breath like an offering.  Snaking his tongue out to run lightly over them, he slowly wetted first the top and then the bottom one.  Will coaxed the electricity between them, drawing it out before capturing Hannibal’s nipple between his thumb and forefinger and bearing down, pinching it hard enough to feel a moan begin to tumble from behind Hannibal’s glistening lips.

Will devoured the sound with a deep kiss, opening his mouth around it, parting Hannibal’s lips with a searching tongue as Hannibal moaned into him.  He could feel the sound vibrate through him more than he could hear it, his own cock hardening in response.  He twisted Hannibal’s nipple once more, making his body jump and shudder, hips bucking, arms pulling him down onto his cock, now rock hard underneath him.

Hannibal kissed him back with an insatiable hunger, bearing down, sucking at him — first his lower lip and then his tongue as the kiss became even deeper, more urgent, bruising; tongue sliding wickedly over his own, stealing his breath. Hannibal’s hand had come up to grasp Will’s throat, thumb pressing down on his carotid as he pulled at the back of his neck.  Will opened his mouth wider to Hannibal’s devouring exploration, just for a moment allowing himself to be pulled against him even tighter…

But Will pulled slowly back from the kiss, intensely gratified by Hannibal’s attempt to chase his lips. His hook had buried itself deep — there was no chance of Hannibal wriggling free now. Will bent down to whisper quietly in Hannibal’s ear, still thrillingly aware of the people still sleeping so near to them.

“There’s something in my pocket…I want you to close your eyes and take it out for me…now.”

Hannibal did as he was told, closing his eyes, his head falling back against the seat with a low groan.  He looked completely undone, flushed and rumpled…exactly as Will wanted him. He sat up slightly to study the look on Hannibal’s face; eyes still closed, his brow furrowed with need as he slipped his hand into Will’s pocket. The wicked smile that spread across Hannibal’s lips as his fingers closed around what he found there was exactly what Will had been hoping to see.

“Now open your eyes and hand it to me.”

Again Hannibal did as he was told, eyes instantly locking on to Will’s, pupils blown black, the beast inside flashing out at him, desperate to savage but caged in by sense and circumstance.  Will pushed back further from Hannibal’s chest and held out his hand.

Hannibal handed Will the silver butt plug.

“Now open your mouth.”

Hannibal hesitated for a only heartbeat—this was not normally how things went between them.  Now was when Will would usually relinquish control, allowing himself to let go and drown in Hannibal’s touch, his voice, surrendering to his irresistible whims.  But there was something different this time.  Flying towards their new home together, Will was drunk on more than champagne; he was drunk on the heady power he had over the love of his life. To have this man under him, at his mercy, it was sweet as honey wine.

“Now, Hannibal.”  Will’s tone brokered no argument, whispered in his ear in a low growl.

Hannibal licked his lips and parted them slowly. His eyes had closed again, the look on his face transcendent. An almost soundless rumble came from deep in his chest, low and urgent and savage. His hands gripped Will’s hips like a vise grinding him back and forth on his cock, impossibly hard but still caged inside his pants. Will slipped the plug into Hannibal’s mouth, carefully guiding the metal toy past his teeth to rest heavy on his tongue.

“Suck on it.  Get it wet.”

Will held the plug by the flattened ring on the end as Hannibal lapped and sucked at it until saliva began to run down Will’s fingers.

“Undo my pants.  I want it inside me. I want to be ready for when we go home for the first time.”

Hannibal groaned, dangerously loud around the plug — completely lost now, uncaring about the people around them. The plug still sat firmly between his lips, warming the cold metal, his mouth open wide around it.

Will threw a quick glance behind him as Hannibal undid his belt and unzipped his pants. Everyone was still remarkably quiet, snoring peacefully, but he knew that they would undoubtedly begin their descent soon. Hannibal had worked his pants just under his ass and was grinding against him now with abandon.

“Open.”

Hannibal complied immediately this time and Will pulled the warm and dripping plug from his mouth, immediately replacing it with his own already sodden fingers.  Hannibal’s tongue curled hot and wet around and between them, lips closing to suck at them hard.  Pulling them away, saliva stringing between them obscenely, Will replaced them with his lips and tongue, swallowing yet another indecent groan from Hannibal before sitting back and reinserting the plug into his mouth one last time.

Reaching behind, Will swirled Hannibal’s spit around his hole, inserting first one finger then two, scissoring them, stretching himself open and pumping into himself fast and rough — the delicious burn quickly replaced with a fiery need to be filled.

“Now, Hannibal.  Do it.”

Hannibal’s breath caught as his hands gripped Will’s ass cheeks, spreading them wide and lifting Will up slightly to reposition him, their cocks hard against each other beneath the fabric of their pants. Hannibal pulled the plug from his mouth and reached around behind Will, lips and teeth dragging up his throat, licking at the scar on his cheek.

Will felt the plug enter between his two fingers, the stretch immediately overwhelming and utterly perfect.  He bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep from moaning aloud. Hannibal pulled the plug back out, then pushed it in again, pumping it into him as Will held himself open.  Will could do nothing more than bury his head against Hannibal’s shoulder, biting down on him to stifle his own cries. Pulling his fingers out of his hole, Will brought both hands to steady himself against Hannibal’s chest while he continued to fuck the plug into him.

Just when Will thought he couldn’t take any more, his ability to stay quiet stretched to the breaking point, Hannibal stilled his punishing pace, letting go of the plug and allowing it to nest heavily inside him. Hannibal was rutting against him freely now, roughly gripping his hips hard enough to bruise, rocking the plug inside him mercilessly and coaxing a cry that sat precariously on his tongue.  

Will could feel Hannibal’s climax building. Yes. Mine .  Will circled his fingers around Hannibal’s nipples once more, pinching and twisting through his shirt, his hips rolling with Hannibal’s increasingly erratic thrusts, riding him as he lowered his lips to Hannibal’s ear one final time…

“Now.”

The word barely slipped past Will’s lips before Hannibal’s orgasm crested, hips lifting both of them out of the seat, Hannibal’s arms wrapping around Will to pull him down against his pumping cock, still trapped inside his pants.  Will brought both hands up to clamp down hard over Hannibal’s mouth, pushing his head back against the seat and exposing his throat, contracting now under his lips as they both rode out his climax silently.

Will collapsed against Hannibal’s chest, each movement causing the plug to shift inside him, concentrating every sensation in his body on one point, mercifully pulling his attention away from his own hard cock.

Will didn’t want to finish.  He didn’t need to finish to derive pleasure from Hannibal’s release.  They were connected.  Identically different.  Perfect reciprocity. Will wanted to wait. He wanted to hold his release until he knew they were safe…until he knew they were home. There he would give himself over to Hannibal entirely, a whole new opportunity for a first time.

Resting heavily against Hannibal’s chest, both of them recovering their breath as quietly as possible, Will heard the overhead speaker bing quietly. It sounded very far away.  Will chuckled quietly into the crook of Hannibal’s neck before reluctantly climbing off him, settling himself gingerly in his own seat.

“I think we’ve gotten all the alone-time we’re going to get until we’re home.”

Hannibal’s face showed an amusing mix of serenity and satisfaction, impatience and exasperation, all wrapped up in a spreading rueful smile.  He looked down at himself, one finger picking fastidiously at the front of his pants, the fabric now conspicuously wet.  Once again, Will was afforded a rare blush as Hannibal looked at him with an astonished shake of his head.

“You’re merciless, aren’t you.  My vicious minx. I think you’ve made the attendant fall in love with you.”

“The attendant , huh?” Will shrugged, an unrepentant smile on his face. “I have another pair of pants in the carry-on if that makes you feel better. If you go now, you’ll get back in time to buckle up for the landing. You may even avoid her. She’ll know exactly what that wet spot is.”

“Is this what I get for reading when your nerves are playing tricks on you, Will?” Hannibal cocked his head, one eyebrow raised ruefully.

“Maybe.  Maybe that’s what you get for making that crazy husband comment when we’re ten thousand feet in the air and fully clothed.” Will couldn’t help shifting in his seat, the plug sending a pleasant thrill to his groin.

“What was I to do, Will? You were entirely too pleased with yourself. How else was I supposed to get you off balance?”

“Your thumb in my mouth was already doing the trick.”

“Hmmm, well, unpredictability is the spice to any relationship.” Hannibal’s tone was mocking, but his eyes crinkled with warmth.

“Well then consider ours well-seasoned.”

Hannibal looked at him with smug adoration, “I think you predict me well enough, Will. That…accessory of yours was in your carry-on for a reason, after all…”

“Well…I was going to slip away to the washroom after we got through customs.  I really don’t want to get arrested with this thing inside me…but I wanted to be…ready for when we get to our new home.” Will couldn’t help the blush he felt rise to his cheeks, eyes cutting down and away.

Hannibal was quiet a moment, but when replied, his tone was soft. “Well then, we’ll have to make sure not to get arrested then, won’t we?”

Hannibal reached out to him, taking his hand and twining their fingers together. He tugged Will’s hand to his lips, pulling Will’s gaze up to meet his own. His eyes showed nothing but earnestness now. Honesty. All shields dropped.

“Are you happy to be sharing a home with me, Will?

Will leaned in for a soft kiss, hands coming up to cradle Hannibal’s face, realising those warm lips were already all the home he would ever need. Pulling slowly back, he grinned mischievously, only inches from Hannibal’s face.

“Well now…that might depend… How serious were you about that husband comment?”