Yearn | Hannigram

hedonism

Allowing Hannibal's vision to come to fruition killed the harmless persona of Will Graham. He was not turned cruel, or unnecessarily violent, but it transformed his rage into art. His need to protect good people stayed through it all. But, his fear, oh the fear, began to manifest into horrors of his own making.

      His dogs didn't seem to recognize him anymore, growling when he entered hand in hand with Hannibal. Their teeth bared and growling lowly because the man covered in blood and smiling at the demon he feared most, could not be the Will they loved. That bathed, fed them, and showed them kindness for the first time.

      He could not be the same Will who cared for them and took them in, dry humping a serial killer in their living room. Smelling of dried blood and the expensive cologne Hannibal bought him- his usual musk and Marlboro replaced with red wine and cuban cigars. 

Eventually, though, with dozens of sausage, made of god only knows what, they warmed up to him. They got used to the two of them crashing into the house, they stopped barking when Hannibal would slam Will against the flimsy door and tear their blood soaked clothes off in a frenzy. 

      Will loved it, he felt more intimate with Hannibal then ever. Seeing the man who seemed so empty react with such intense emotion. Hannibal losing control made Will breathless. His eyes sunk dark like they did when he killed, his lips would smile softly, in a toothy smirk. Always covered in blood or cum, Will was getting addicted. 

      Something like this had happened before. Josh, his roommate in senior year, was the first. Will had practically worshiped the ground he walked on. Then he came home early from a trip and found him fucking Will's best friend, Laura.  

     His intimacy issues had a tendency to either mean he has no feelings at all or he was completely obsessed. Josh was one of roughly five people in his life Will had become uncomfortably and unhealthily attached to. He didn't bring it up to Hannibal. Textbook Daddy (and Mommy) issues were a little boring for Hannibal Lecter's specific brand of psychology.
From a distant, alcoholic, abusive father to a mom who Will only remembered as a sleeping mass in the dark bedroom at the end of the hallway, there was too much to even begin. Too many skipped lunches, too little touches- too rough touches. As a child he was all stutters, southern twang, and subtle flinches whenever anyone got too close. 

     Regardless, Will Graham had been obsessed with Hannibal far too long for his own good. Now that obsession had turned, well, intimate. This was new territory for the both of them, isolated predators but so different from one another. The line between hate and love, fear and lust, it was intoxicating and Will found that Hannibal's teeth gnawing a scar into his neck would get him higher than any drug. But so was waking up to him making coffee, fucking slowly in the shower so sweet it made Will sick. Hannibal was softer than he'd ever imagined. He still had those eyes though, he felt like he was being lured by a perfect display of a boyfriend but there was still that- empty. Will wanted to break it open, he got close the first time he sunk his teeth into Hannibal's lip: the shock. Hannibal anticipated everything. Will became completely fixated on shocking Hannibal, first it was red panties, then the plug, then the handcuffs...

      Work was difficult. 

      Hannibal still stared at him with such heat, Will fought not to blush whenever they had to be in a room with anyone else. His knowing smirk constantly sending Will into a haze of fire. Not to mention being out in the field together came with well... unforeseen consequences. Hannibal had never pegged Will as the jealous type, nor did Will with he. But they now had became very acutely aware of every brief flirtation both men received from a slew of should-be-grieving neighbors and overly curious journalists. The first time a concerned parent made a move on Hannibal though, you'd have thought Will really was that trained attack dog. 

     Hannibal found his obsession there. Possessiveness comes with the insecurity of love Will had when he was young. Jealousy is ugly on the masses but green does nothing but bring out the ocean blue of William's eyes, complements so beautifully against blood red. Will's teeth sharpened as his wit spat like fire in the face of Bryanna...Diana maybe, Hannibal couldn't possibly have bothered to remember her name. All he saw when he looked back was Will's eyebrows furrowed, all he heard was the low growl in the back of his throat. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but we are working right now. I doubt Doctor Lecter spends his days pining for PTA pussy when he could get anyone he wanted. Thanks." 

     It was crude, offensive even. Everything Hannibal thought disgusting. It was awe inspiring. 

     "No need to be so rude." Hannibal couldn't not smile when he saw the way Will's pupils were wide, his fists clenched, biting on his tongue to hold its silver in place. "I am very much yours, William."

     Will turned to him, "And?" His eyes were still wide with heat, shaking underneath all of the layers hanging off his bony frame. 

     "You're mine. You know that, my dear boy." Hannibal fought every urge to lunge at the bloodthirsty minx in front of him. But Jack was a few yards behind them, crowded by Beverly and the rest of the forensics team. Alana was trying to keep prying reporters behind the crime scene tape, local law enforcement holding crowds of people back from the scene left for the public. 

     He and Will were anything but public. The glimpses of Will's jealousy are the only indication that could get them caught...that and the way Hannibal stared at him like he wanted to devour him right there in front of news station cameras and flashing police lights. 

     Neither of them were much for PDA but the secret touches, the breathy whispers, the scorching staring matches. They were heavenly, they were damned and sacrilegious. Will felt like he'd been shacking up with the devil in a priest's confession booth. Like he was laughing in the face of God; of Jack. With Lucifer sucking on his neck, Will felt the fragile scale of his morality crash into fire and brimstone.

     With their new dance, their evolved ballet around each other's darkest parts, Hannibal found it hard for once in his life to keep his feelings, his urges, deprived. To numb the way he wanted to rip Will's lips up until they ripped whenever he tried to speak, to show both of their scars with pride. He found a delicious pain in being the dirty little secret Will Graham came home to. He loved tearing the white feathers off of Will's angel wings, replacing each with a stunning piece of gore.