Archive of Our Own ^beta

The man bought Will a drink, and Will expect to pay him no mind. He moved in closer and asked him innocent questions, while keeping a hand on his knee. Will wanted to let him know that this wasn’t why I came here and you’re sweet but I’m not interested, but the man was dressed so well for such a low-pretension bar; Peak lapels on a steel blazer, dress shirt so well fit and thin you could see his body heat through it, and an ornate print on a deep red tie… Sure, it wasn’t paisley- but it was the reason Will decided to kiss him. It was the reason Will asked him if he wanted to take him home.

He didn’t look like Hannibal. He didn’t sound like him or smell like him. He wasn’t Hannibal, but he had hands and a mouth. He had a suit Will could lay his hands on and make messy. He had a body, and he wanted Will. He’d do, for now.

Will gave directions to his home, sitting in the passenger seat with a hand occasionally slipping between the man’s thighs. The man was excited, but behaving himself. He responded to the squeeze of his cock with a cheerful hiccup sound, quickly looking Will’s way to see if he meant it. It wasn’t hard for Will to imagine Hannibal doing the emotional opposite; slowly swiveling his head to look at Will, smirking upon the realization that Will did know what he was doing, before turning his attention back to the road. Hannibal would move his groin into Will’s hand, encouraging him to continue until they reached their destination. The man seemed to not know he had the option.

When they arrived, Will lead them through his front door by the mouth.

“Wow, you have a lot of dogs.” He mumbled, upon the silent greeting Will’s pack gave the temporary couple.

“Mhm.” Will agreed, sweeping his hands down from the man’s face, to the waist of his slacks. “Do you want me to put them away?”

The man shrugged but nodded, so Will released him to go about his new objective. Despite Will being completely desensitized to it, Will understood why someone might not appreciate the 14 extra eyes on them when being intimate. It wasn’t the first time a partner requested they be put away, and his dogs knew the drill. As soon as he started to shoo them, they all funneled their own way into his kitchen where he could close them off to the main part of the house.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Hannibal would care. He probably wouldn’t, or he’d make it into something else- something deeper, something insightful, or- god-forbid- something indulgent.

When Will returned, the man was sitting on the end of his bed. He started to nervously fidget with his tie.

“No.” Will commanded, closing the space between them.  He removed his pants and boxers quickly, hearing his belt clatter on the floor as he straddled over the man’s lap.

“Leave that on.”

The man flushed, taken off guard by either Will forwardness or by his swift disrobel.

“Can I take off my-” He began, gesturing and pulling at the arms of his blazer.

“No.”

Will kissed him and the man laughed.

“Well, okay.” He said, between Will’s lips as Will’s tongue slipped inside his mouth.

Will started unbuttoning his own shirt, eyes closed and hips grinding down on the growing swell in the man’s pants. Once naked and feeling the cool of the man’s clothes against all of his skin, he finally started to get hard.

Will hoped the man hadn’t noticed, then reminded himself that the man didn’t know Hannibal. He probably just thought he was weird, and this was going to be a weird story to share with his friends one day. None of this mattered.

He held the man by the jaw, fingers teasing at his throat as he claimed his mouth. The man kept his hands on Will’s back and didn’t stop Will from pushing him back against the mattress.

“Put your fingers in me.” Will instructed.

“Hm-What?” The man hummed, lost in a fog beneath Will.

Will grunted with frustration and reached over his partner, opening the draw beside the head of his bed. He fumbled and removed a bottle of lube, taking the man’s hand off of him and pressing it into his palm.

“Put your fingers in me.” He repeated, with a slight hostility.

Hannibal wouldn’t need this. He complained, inwardly. Hannibal would have him bent over the edge of his mattress already, probing him and teasing him. He’d have his free hand against the curve of his back, holding him still while he stretched him open. He’d be so calm and confident and-

The man pushed a finger inside of Will and Will let out a deep moan. His head fell into the man’s neck, kissing at his collar and taking the fabric into his teeth.

“More.”

Will coaxed the man into digging into him with two- then three- fingers. Will fucked himself back on his hand, desperate and finally enjoying himself the way he wanted to. The man wanted to be patient with him. He wanted to give him time to open up, time to be ready for the next finger, the next knuckle… But Will was beyond that. He wanted to be torn into. He wanted to be fucked. He didn’t want to keep thinking about how Hannibal would treat him, or how Hannibal would be better. He just wanted to come and have his thoughts cleared.

“Hann-” He caught himself groaning into the man’s neck, then saved it with: “-ng on.”

Will sat himself upright and the man removed his fingers. He trailed his hand over Will’s ass and hip, lingering on his thigh as he took the sight of Will’s body in.

“God, you’re beautiful.” The man gasped. Will felt he meant it, but his eyes dropped to the scar on his stomach. He watched the man become silently concerned, and decided it would be better to give him his back.

Will turned on him, resting his ass on his stomach while he tended to the wet patch in the man’s slacks. He undid his belt and his fly, only shimming his clothing down low enough for his cock to be accessible. He was circumcised, when Will was sure Hannibal wasn’t, but it wouldn’t matter once it was inside of him.

Will repositioned himself again, straddling over the man’s hips and slowly sinking down on him. He guided his cock into him, and felt the man’s hands take his hips.

The man moaned “God, yes.” as Will enveloped him. He grabbed at the meat of Will’s ass, shaking it in his gasp before slapping it. It was the first forward move, save for buying Will a drink, that the man had made all night. It was unfortunate that all it did for Will was drag him deeper into his Hannibal fantasy.

Will allowed himself to release the reality that he was on his bed with a stranger. Hannibal was now the one under him, pushing up into him while pulling him down. His cock rut against his prostate with precision with each gyration of Will’s hips- Will didn’t feel the need to be touched. Will arched his back, and Hannibal’s hands followed the curve. Hannibal followed the lines of his body as Will road him. He followed him wherever and however he moved- tracing the ridges of his ribs, thumbs rubbing his spine in obsessive circles... He loved feeling him. He loved Will’s skin. He loved Will’s body. He loved-

Will came and came-to. He let himself fall forward, supporting himself between the man’s legs on his elbows. He sunk down on the man as deep as he could manage from the angle, clenching and pulling on him until the man came with his own raspy groan.

Will realized he should have made him use a condom.

Will rolled off him and excused himself to the bathroom, with a bashful murmur and averted eyes. He didn’t wait for any kind of permission before fleeing the room.

“I’m so glad I bought you that drink.” The man called after him. Will could hear him crawling up on his bed, creaking the bed springs as he got comfy.

“Me too.” Will said, script reading. “You should get going.” He added, looking at himself in the mirror. He looked tired much more than he looked fulfilled.

The silence from the man was staggering. He heard the springs creek again and figured the man was sitting up, and getting ready to remove himself.

Good. He thought. Other’s made it more difficult.

“Can I call you?” He asked. He sounded hurt, but hopeful. Will winced.

“Sure.” Will agreed. He didn’t need to tell him he had no intention of answering, when he did call. I’m just going to be some freak. None of this matters.

He stayed watching himself in the mirror, listening to the man fumble in the main room. He hardly moved until he heard the door open and close. Then, he collapsed with his head against the sink.

No matter how many times he did this, the feeling never died. His desires sat with him like a rock, weighing on his chest and stomach until he couldn’t breathe. His need for Hannibal was deeper than this- deeper than what any man with a deep voice and a concept of fine clothing could reach for him- but he kept trying.

He missed him. He was always going to miss him.

He should have ran away with him when he had the chance.