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Cooking was usually disastrous for Will, who was more suited for fast food takeaways and microwaving pre-packed crap. So he was genuinely confused when he found himself standing in front of the stove and stirring blobs of tomatoes and olive oil. He had to look through multiple dented pans and broken pots in his cabinet before finally spotting something that was fit for usage. He had them scrubbed clean, which was quite out of character considering his apathy for cleanliness in the house. All this just because Hannibal offhandedly suggested Will to cook for him. It wasn’t an outright demand, but the idea took hold on Will so strongly he ended up inviting Hannibal over a week later. He could still see the smug smile that slid onto Hannibal’s face, a silent I knew you would agree to it look.
And now Will was flailing around the kitchen like a chicken with its head cut off, desperately trying to remember his mother’s recipe. Simple tomato based pasta, couldn’t be that difficult to achieve, right? Wrong. He might have forgotten the garlic somewhere in between, but there was no time for him to start a new batch, he’d just have to forgo them. It’d be good too, no nasty breath. He flicked in some thyme and parsley picked from the wild garden outside his house, prayed that it wasn’t a similar variant that was poisonous. Hannibal probably wouldn’t be too pleased if he ended up in the hospital for food poisoning.
“Well, you sort of forced me to cook so…” Will mumbled under his breath, his eyes flicking over to the clock on the wall. Hannibal should be arriving anytime soon, and judging by his character, he’d arrive fifteen minutes early before the stipulated dinner time with a bottle of wine and god knows what else. One thing Will knows for sure however, was that his wines and gift would cost more than Will’s prepared dinner. It almost made Will guilty. Almost. Will was just scooping up spaghetti strands when he heard the hum of Hannibal’s car, along with the dogs’ excited barks. He chanced a look at the clock again. Yep, fifteen minutes early.
Will heard the creak of his door, and then, “Will?”
“Back here!” He shouted, knowing that Hannibal was just asking for the sake of courtesy, rather than actually being unsure.
“What are we having today?” Hannibal appeared at the entrance of the kitchen, holding a bottle along with a brown paper bag. He set them down on the island table. Dressed down in his way of dressing down, Hannibal was clad in a soft navy sweater and pale slacks. His hair hung over his forehead, not in his usual slicked back manner. Will could actually get used to this.
“Pasta, and possible e coli.” Will drained the spaghetti before setting them onto the nicest plates he found. They were all his mother’s. He turned around and gave Hannibal a wry smile. “Hungry yet?”
Not missing a beat, Hannibal replied, “Quite. I didn’t have a very filling meal this afternoon. I brought cabernet and strawberries. Cabernet goes quite well with pasta.”
Will hummed in response, pouring adequate amount of sauce onto each serving. “Couch or in front of the TV?” He hid a grin when Hannibal’s expression turn sour. “Kidding. I do have a expandable table somewhere.”
Hannibal sighed, soft and low, apparently resigned to his fate. “I should train you to welcome your guests properly.”
“You were early.” Will threw over his shoulders, already heading for the store room. He managed to locate the table, which had a fine layer of dust over. He wiped it down with a damp rag before dragging it to the hall. There he set it up, before returning to the kitchen, where Hannibal was looking through his cabinets.
“What are you looking for?”
“Wine glasses.”
“Oh. I have none. I do have rocks glasses though.”
Will felt, rather than heard Hannibal’s exasperated sigh, and stifling his laughter, he pointed at a drawer, “They’re there, along with some cutleries. Could you grab some spoon and fork?”
Hannibal shook his head, his voice stern but his eyes were soft and fond. “I let you get away with too much.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Will pecked Hannibal on his cheek, before gathering the rapidly cooling spaghetti off the island. He set their dinner onto the table in the hall, had to tell a few dogs to back off when Hannibal emerged from the kitchen, miraculously holding cutleries, glasses, and the bottle of wine.
“You’re missing your calling here, Hannibal.” Will teased, and Hannibal shot him a look.
Will watched as Hannibal place the fork and spoon neatly by their sides, and he was evidently gritting his teeth when he poured the cabernet into the makeshift wine glasses. He finally sat himself down after he fetched napkins.
“I took the liberty of bringing some napkins here when you were off in Quantico.” Hannibal explained when Will stared at him. “Your dogs can be quite prone to… drooling. Shall we eat?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Let’s eat.” Will mumbled, twirling the strands of spaghetti with his fork. He knew that he was so very different from when he had first met Hannibal, he was looser now, affectionate, and everything felt way too domestic with him. He bit his lips, thoughtful as he chewed on the now inflated pasta. He winced when the first actual taste of his creation hit him. He looked up at Hannibal, other than the slight furrow of his brows, there were no other tell tale sign of difficulty eating. “This tastes like crap, why are you still eating it?”
Hannibal simply swallowed his mouthful. “All culinary chefs have started somewhere.”
Will squinted at him, but detected no trace of sarcasm. He took a swig of his drink, “Damn it, even your drink is better than this meal. But I really did follow the recipe?”
“You must have missed something.” Hannibal continued to eat with a straight face.
“Must be the garlic, and…” Will took another spoonful, “Too much olive oil.”
They did finish the pasta eventually, with the help of frequent refills of wine. Hannibal would not have allowed this usually, it would dilute the taste and destroy the experience of having a good cabernet, but he allowed the concession for this once. Dopey and somewhat full, Will leaned back in his chair, while Hannibal cleared the dishes. He protested, but Hannibal merely shushed him before disappearing into the kitchen.
Will moved himself onto the couch, dimming the front lights as he did so, switching on the TV. Over the buzz of the B list movie, Will heard the clattering of plates, and finally Hannibal came back, settling next to him on the couch. He had the strawberries cut into halves, fruit forks stuck into them.
“I have fruit forks?” Will asked incredulously.
“Yes, I found them in your third drawer.” Hannibal held up one strawberry, intending for Will to take. Instead, Will reached out with his fingers and picked it off the plate. He popped the strawberry into his mouth, the sweet juice exploding inside, making him moan softly for the first actual taste of real food. He licked his lips clean, not missing the way Hannibal’s eyes sweep over them hungrily.
Maybe it was the wine talking, or maybe it was himself, but Will found himself saying, “Feed me.” His voice sounded strange, even to his own ears. Demanding and pushy. Wasn’t really wrong to say that he wanted to see how far he could push Hannibal with his supposed rudeness.
Hannibal picked one up, propped it on the entrance of Will’s lips, and without breaking eye contact, Will slowly nibbled, getting juices all over Hannibal’s finger. Hannibal watched, maroon eyes turning obsidian as Will finished the entirety of the fruit, before licking the tip of his index fingers, purposefully slow and kitten-like.
“You have such beautiful hands,” Will murmured as he continued to suck lightly at Hannibal’s fingers, his own index fingers tracing over Hannibal’s knuckles, over the veins and smooth skin. He skimmed over the base of his index finger, and onto his nails. “Surgeon hands, hands that cook, hands that take such good care of me.”
Hannibal was silent, but Will could see the desire set in his body, the slight part of his mouth when he was hopelessly turned on.
“Would you take care of me, Hannibal?” Most of the juices was already gone, but Will continued to suck lightly at Hannibal’s fingers, laving at them reverently. “I want one more piece.”
When Hannibal withdrew his hand, Will felt a stab of sudden panic. Had he gone too far? Maybe he had misread Hannibal. He was probably disgusted at the amount of saliva on his fingers. But his fear quickly abated when Hannibal spoke.
“You have some on your chin.” Hannibal set the plate down on the table, before leaning over to lick it off, tongue creating a pathway up to Will’s lips. There, Hannibal kissed everywhere, his forehead, his brow, his cheeks, his nose, everywhere except for his lips. Will whined in protest, but Hannibal merely leaned his forehead against his, his breath cool on Will’s face. “I want to take care of you. Would you like that?” His eyes were bright, far too bright, ablaze with hunger and passion, and a hint of something that ran deeper than those two feelings. But Will didn’t want to consider the possibility, not right now, so he surged forward, and pressed his lips against Hannibal’s. His mouth was warm, hot, and Will wants to take, take and take til there’s nothing left, Will nipped at Hannibal’s lower lips, and found himself thrilled when Hannibal released a low groan, shifting his weight such that his erection was pressing against Will’s hand.
Hannibal broke from their kiss, closing his eyes when he saw Will, lips red and swollen, his eyes were dazed, and he looked every bit debauched as Hannibal thought he would.
“B-bedroom?” Will had a way of widening his eyes when he was asking questions, and Hannibal found himself liking it more and more.
Hannibal nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Instead he leaned over, and picked Will up easily. Surprised, Will held onto his neck, a startled peal of laughter bubbling up his throat. He might be older than Will, but he was definitely stronger, due to the fact that Will often forgets his meals, and also the rubbish he ate. If Hannibal had his way, Will should be monitored constantly by him to ensure that he remembers his sustenance. He moved them into the bedroom, before putting Will down onto the mattress. The cheap bed would no doubt be squeaking under their combined weight. He should order a new bedframe and mattress for Will. However, all rational thoughts were eradicated when Will tugged Hannibal down, his mouth desperately searching for his. Will moaned into their kiss, and struggled to pull Hannibal's sweater off. Hannibal helped him along, ditching the offending material onto the floor, where it will no doubt, collect dog hair by the end of the night. Will also began to tug at his own shirt, and when he pulled it off he sighed at the skin on skin contact.
"Take it off." Will urged, pointing to Hannibal's slacks, but Hannibal’s hands were too slow for his own liking, so he ended up unbuckling Hannibal’s belt for him, ridding him of all articles of clothes. Eagerly, Will ran his hands all over Hannibal’s body, over the curve of his shoulders, down the muscled biceps and forearm, the light dust of hair that began from his chest, narrowing towards his navel. There, Will closed his hand around Hannibal’s cock, drawing out a choked groan from him.
Will watched the splay of emotions across Hannibal’s face as he stroked him, delighting in the fact that it was him that made Hannibal like this. Undone, vulnerable. Will couldn’t resist pressing his teeth to Hannibal’s shoulders, sucking at the expanse of skin. Those would leave marks for sure. Struck by a sudden need to see Hannibal lose even more of his careful control, Will whispered into Hannibal’s ears, voice so very soft.
“You have such a nice cock, Hannibal, why is everything about you so perfect? Is this the same cock that would open me up, love me nice and good? Or would you fuck me so hard and fast, that I’ll ache all over tomorrow?”
Will flicked his thumb over his leaking slit, and this time Hannibal finally snapped, pushing Will onto his back and with almost no time between, Hannibal was ravaging his mouth, the slide of tongue and saliva filthy and wet. When they parted, Will was panting, pliant as he felt harsh nips all over his neck, the ghost of Hannibal’s breath pebbling his nipples. His hands travelled downwards, over heated skin, and finally, finally, Hannibal was pulling Will’s pants off, and for a moment he paused, their breaths stilled, and Will thought he might have finally crossed a line, but Hannibal gripped his thigh so hard and made a choked sound.
“Oh Will, you did this for me?” His fingers were touching the soft lace band, a note of reverence in his voice. Hannibal felt his way around the ivory panties, squeezed the covered portion of his ass cheeks, and by the time his hands came back to the front, Will was hard, wanting and leaking. A spot on his panties was damp, almost see through, and Hannibal dipped into the waistband, smearing the pearl of precome all over his slit. Will moaned in response, and Hannibal stroked him with deft flicks of his wrist, it was good enough to turn Will on beyond belief, but not enough to send him over the edge, and he was melting into the sheets, biting his lips when Hannibal removed himself to rummage by the bedside drawer.
“Do you want to keep it on, love?” Hannibal’s voice was ragged as he squirted lube onto his fingers.
Will nodded impatiently, and scrambled to comply when Hannibal told him to spread his legs. He looked even lovelier this way, the ivory lace riding up, revealing the soft meat of his ass. Hannibal pushed the fabric aside, just enough so that he could rub lube warmed fingers onto his puckered hole. He pushed the first digit in, watching Will’s face the entire time, and then the second digit, scissoring both of them and hearing Will’s gasp of pain and pleasure when he hits a sweet spot. Will was a writhing mess when Hannibal repeatedly pressed against the spongy walls, incoherent and blubbering for Hannibal to just fuck me already, please.
Will whined when he felt his fingers withdraw, his hole clenching around nothing, but he was rewarded by the slick sound of lube against flesh, and Hannibal’s cock was pressing against his entrance, slow and steady. Will’s breath hitched as his flesh yielded, he was full, so full when Hannibal finally bottomed out. Hannibal was holding himself up with his arms, muscles bunching, a sheen of sweat glistening on his body. He was looking down at Will, liquid affection that swallowed the entirety of Will’s being. Will reached out, and rubbed his thumb over his cheekbones before wrapping his hands around Hannibal’s neck, pulling his weight down on him.
“Move, Hannibal.”
It began with the slow, sensual roll of his hips, hitting all of Will’s intimate areas, and he moaned loudly, fingers tangling into Hannibal’s hair. The grip on Hannibal’s hair told him how much Will liked each movement, it was particularly hard and painful each time Hannibal grinded into the deepest parts of him, it was gentle when they both rolled themselves against each other, exchanging wet kisses. Together they rocked like that, for seconds, minutes, possibly an hour.
“I’m not going to break.” Will panted eventually when Hannibal smoothed his hair away from his forehead. Pupils blown from all the build-up and lack of climax, and Hannibal was sure Will would have begged if he asked him to. “I can take it. I want you, all of you. Fuck me hard til I come untouched, please.”
No other words were exchanged when Hannibal extracted himself from Will, he pushed Will onto his hands and knees, and slid back in. Hannibal released a guttural groan. This angle, Will was hot and warm, and he could go so much deeper. Will was pushing back against him, rolling his hips in a sinful manner. Coupled with the panties bunched to the side, it provided a visual feast that practically undid him. Setting a brutal rhythm, Hannibal snapped his hips forward, drilling an incoherent Will into the mattress. Will cried out, moaned, his fingers scrambling for purchase when Hannibal found them, and there he locked his hands around Will’s wrists, tying him to Hannibal’s hold. Hannibal leaned forward and sucked at Will’s shoulders, before travelling to Will’s ear, biting and soothing them with his tongue.
“Is this what you wanted from the start of today? You’ve been planning this, wearing the little panties and waiting for me. That’s very naughty of you. Naughty boys get punished, don’t they?” Will shuddered underneath him, and Hannibal gathered both his wrists into one of his hand, so the other could roam free to Will’s chest. He pulled lightly at one of the hardened nubs, before pinching and twisting them. Will cried out at this, and Hannibal continued to whisper dirty things into his ears, “Are you going to come for me like this, love? Fucking you into the mattress like a dog would do to his bitch?
With a strangled sob, Will comes, shaking as Hannibal fucked him through his orgasm, reaching his own peak when Will unexpectedly clenched himself around him. His hips stuttered to a stop, overly sensitive as he spilled inside of Will. He collapsed to the side of Will afterwards, careful not to crush him. They were both quiet, sated in the pleasant afterglow of a climax.
“Wow.” Will breathed out.
“Wow.” Hannibal repeated, turning to face Will. Will’s face was stretched out in a dopey grin, soft and easy. He pressed a kiss to Will’s forehead before getting off the bed, and Will shot his arm out to grab him, panicky.
“Where are you going?”
“To get you cleaned up.”
“Oh, okay.” Will released Hannibal’s hand, and for a moment looked very young. Hannibal brushed Will’s hair away from his forehead, before proceeding to the bathroom. He found a small towel, and ran it under the tap, careful to set it on lukewarm.
There he thought about Will, how circumstances have caused them to meet, and how fond he was of him now. Will was very much like a flower, prickly and thorny, but soft and sweet once you got through the layers. He had the brightest laugh and the sharpest eyes when he smiled, enough to stir a long forgotten feeling inside of Hannibal. He would love to take care of Will for a long time if the younger permitted it. It was a feeling and a responsibility he felt, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Hannibal turned off the tap, and wrung the towel out, before going back to the bedroom. Will laid on the bed, already dozing. The moonlight was hitting him in all the right places, making him look ethereal, and Hannibal found himself stepping around softly, cleaning Will up as best he could. He pulled the ruined panties off Will, and placed it by the side before climbing back into bed with him. Will peeked an eye open when he felt Hannibal closing his arms around him, and snuggled in further when Hannibal threw the blanket over themselves.
“-ove you.” Will mumbled, eyes closed again, so soft that Hannibal almost missed it. But he didn’t, couldn’t mistake those words for something else, and with his heart soaring, Hannibal pulled Will closer to him, whispering sweet nothings into his hair as they both slowly went deep in sleep.