Hannigram Oneshots

●Praise (Smut)●

Will has a praise kink and Hannibal taps into that (because he doesn't do it enough in the show) 

And Sidenote: unless I say something or she's relevant to the story, Will kills Freddie. I get the purpose of her faked death in the show but she's irrelevant and annoys the hell out of me so her death is 100% real. 

Will lifted the wine glass to his lips, watching over the edge of the cup as Hannibal emerged once more from the kitchen. A tray was wrapped within his hands, the center dish lit brightly orange with a recently started fire. The flames lept up toward the carrier's face, shadowing his complexion. The edges of the tray clicked against the table as it rested between his place and Hannibal's.

"Among gourmands, the ortolan bunting is considered a rare but debauched delicacy." Hannibal introduced, pulling out his chair. Settling down across from Will once more, he continued. "A rite of passage, if you will."

The empath slowly raked his gaze down from Hannibal's eyes, wandering over his tie and chest before landing on the now tiny flame. With a gentle clink of his wine glass meeting the table, he leaned back in his chair and allowed the doctor to explain.

"Preparation calls for the songbird to be drowned alive in Armagnac. It is then roasted and consumed whole in a single mouthful." He elaborated, plucking up a napkin and laying it across his lap.

Two tiny birds scorched an appealing golden brown. The dish was still, despite the smell wafting off of it and the perfectly roasted color, unappealing. Eating an entire bird whole, while it still had small stubs for legs, yellowish orbs for eyes, and a browned beak made his stomach churn. Nevermind the fact they'd both dined on Freddie Lounds merely minutes ago.

"Ortolans are endangered." Will commented simply, watching the now nearly non-existent flames flicker within the dish.

"Who amongst us is not?" Hannibal shot back passively, eyes entirely on the empath ahead of him. The air around them was tense, but not in a terrible way. A flirtatious, murderous, erotic tense.

"I haven't been... gorged, drowned, plucked, and roasted. Not yet." He continued, watching the doctor's face suddenly change at his comment. His hint of playfulness had become a concerned curiosity.

"Do you still believe you'll be gorged, drowned, plucked, and roasted in my presence, Will?" Leaning forward, the cannibal disregarded the flaming meal to focus on the man across from him. His thin eyebrow raised at the nearly inaudible huff of amusement from the other.

"I believe it's a possibility. No one truly knows what you're capable of." Will answered truthfully, a trace of contempt in his words. Despite the fact he was supposed to be luring Hannibal into a trap, he couldn't help but open up to him on subjects like these.

"I can assure you, I have no intention to put you into any kind of harm. Gorging, drowning, plucking, roasting, or otherwise." He clarified. Will had no way of knowing if his words were forthright. After all the manipulation they'd gone through to get to where they were now, he wasn't sure how much he could truly trust the doctor.

"You've never thought about eating me?" The empath narrowed his eyes, presenting the other with a rather difficult question to answer. Though it wouldn't be incriminating, it would confirm that he'd had thoughts about cannibalism. Once again disregarding the pieces of Freddie Lounds sitting in their stomachs digesting.

"No, no I haven't. I would never want to waste someone like you. You're much too special to me to ever imagine eating."

Will's jaw clenched at the wording, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. Praise was something he rarely received so he typically didn't have much of a problem. But when he still had a romantic interest in Alana and she praised him, it didn't go so well in his mind. He never expected praise from the Chesapeake Ripper so the words caught him off guard. The doctor seemed to notice the change and moved on.