Lost in My Paradise

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Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at
http://download.archiveofourown.org/works/4696346.
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Explicit
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M/M
Hannibal (TV), hannigram - Fandom
Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter,
hannigram
Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Francis Dolarhyde, Molly Graham,
Jack Crawford
Male Slash, Slash, Post-Season/Series 03, hannibal spoilers, Top
Hannibal, Bottom Will Graham, Canon-Typical Violence, Murder,
Murder Husbands, Headcanon, Maybe actually canon, Love/Hate,
Love, Gay Sex, Anal Sex, Rimming, Possessive Hannibal, Hannibal
in Love, Hannibal Loves Will, Kissing, Anal Fingering, Tenderness,
Dubious Morality, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Serial Killers, let's be real,
Could Be Canon, On the Run, Serious Injuries, Doctor Hannibal,
Angst, Some Fluff, Hannibal's tummy, tummy love, Body Worship,
Forced Eye Contact, Eye Contact, Porn with Feelings, Crying, Will
Graham's tummy scar, Scars, Hanni kissing Will's scars, Post-Finale,
Post-Canon
Published: 2015-08-31 Words: 6769

Lost in My Paradise
by Cunninglinguist
Summary

Post S3 finale.
What happens after Will and Hanni fake their own deaths to become murder husbands on
the run? Some primitive first aid, emotionally stunted boys dealing with feelings, and lots
of sexy times ensue.

Notes

Standard disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own any of these beautiful characters, nor do I own
"Hannibal," and I am not making any money off of this. This is purely for the enjoyment
of my fellow Hannigram garbage can dwellers & anyone else who needs 6700 words of
angsty murder husbands porn in their lives. Enjoy!
Also: This work is unbeta'd, so any and all mistakes made are my own.

See the end of the work for more notes

Will looked at the man who stood before him, chest heaving, covered in blood. In that moment, he
did not feel the searing anguish of the gash in his face, or that of the fresh wound in his chest. He
did not feel the nausea, guilt, or horror that should be radiating from his soul after killing the
Dragon. He was focused entirely on Hannibal, the man who understands him, and who has let
him see his true self.
Will reached out for Hannibal, his fingers gripping his shirt for stability. Hannibal said hoarsely,
“This is what I always wanted for you, Will. What I always wanted for both of us.”
Hannibal’s voice was riddled with raw emotion, and Will’s deep capacity to understand crashed
over him. A sweet ache that bloomed in his chest and spread its warmth throughout his body. His
breath came in heavy bursts as he crushed his body against Hannibal’s in a fit of pure empathetic
passion, nuzzling his face in his neck, indulging in the pleasure of physical contact with the one
person who he truly loved, deeper and realer than anything he’s ever known. He felt Hannibal
relax into the embrace, and his relief and bliss surged into Will through the points where they were
connected.
“It’s beautiful,” Will whispered, attempting to mask the powerful surge of emotions coursing
through his body. Squeezing his eyes shut, Will savored every moment of this embrace,
committing it to memory Wordlessly, he definitively chose to be with this man, trying to pour his
feelings into Hannibal with their contact. He knew that after doing what must come next, what he
dreads but knows is necessary, he will never again leave Hannibal’s side. He felt Hannibal’s
hands clutching him tighter, he knew Hannibal understood him. Without further preamble, Will
hurdled them both off the cliff into the icy depths below, gripping Hannibal desperately, overcome
with joy at their closeness and the prospect of finally being with the one who understands.
*********************
The first victim they took together is out of necessity and necessity alone. They would not eat him,
no—their first proper meal together in this new chapter of life would be someone special.
Someone in particular, according to Hannibal. But for now, they needed a place to rest and dress
their wounds.
Will’s head, muscles, and fresh wounds throbbed; time passed in a hazy delirium. Hannibal’s
presence was reassuring and solid beside him as they overtook the sole occupant of a lonely
seaside shack, subduing him easily and dragging his body to the basement. When the initial
adrenaline of the act wore off, they were freezing, exhausted, and nearly numb from the pain of
their injuries. Few words were exchanged as Will stoked the already built fire and Hannibal
located rubbing alcohol and a first aid kit. It was hardly the best-case scenario, but it would have
to do for now.
Once the fire was roaring in the hearth, Will stood, dizzy beyond belief yet strangely content.
Slowly, he loped around the one-story building, making sure all of the doors are shut and the
blinds drawn closed. Once this was done, he returned to the living room. His heart skipped a beat
as he set his eyes on Hannibal, who stood in the doorframe opposite him, smiling weakly and
holding up the first aid kit in one hand and indicating the blankets that he’s found and draped over
his opposite forearm. Again, Will experienced all of his other, physically unpleasant feelings
evaporate as he stared into the dark eyes of the man who had seemingly been knitted into his very
core.
Wordlessly, as if in a dream, Will began to walk towards Hannibal. His counterpart did the same,
matching his pace until they were standing mere inches apart from each other before the great fire,
eyes burning into each other. The joy rolled off of Hannibal in droves and set Will’s heart beating
faster than ever. Hannibal broke eye contact only to set his things down before he stepped closer
to Will and began undoing the buttons on his cold, wet shirt. Will gasped, forgetting about his

wounds until Hannibal slid his shirt to the floor and it tugged uncomfortably at his drying blood.
He grimaced.
“I know it hurts,” said Hannibal soothingly, rubbing his chilled hands across Will’s bared flesh. “I
have to stitch you up and get you warm.”
Hannibal’s eyes followed his hands as they grazed lower, resting on his belt buckle. Will shivered
at his touch, chest heaving. Hannibal’s eyes flickered back up to Will’s as he removed Will’s belt
buckle and pants. Will decided against suppressing a sigh as he was entirely bared to Hannibal for
the first time, but Hannibal quickly wrapped Will around the middle in a scratchy wool blanket
and sat him on the sunken futon. He moved swiftly, his surgeon’s hands steady despite his own
grievous wound, as he tenderly cleansed Will’s injuries and set to stitching him back together.
Will’s heart swelled at the care being displayed. He could not recall the last time he was touched
with such careful attention, and his eyes began to water at the thought. He sucked his inner lip
between his teeth, willing the tears not to fall.
Hannibal’s eyes were on his face, missing none of his emotions as he worked to stitch Will’s
cheek. Though his head pounded and the stitches sent pain shooting through him, Will cannot
help but blush. Hannibal smiled slightly and brushed the fingers of his free hand across Will’s
unblemished cheek. “Not to worry, Will. I’m just about finished.”
“Thank you,” Will croaked, his mouth dry. Hannibal smiled warmly.
Once he was finished, he cupped Will’s face surprisingly gently in his hands. The hands that
could take lives and save lives alike. Will shuddered almost imperceptibly. “Alright. All done. I
am going to get you some water, and then I suggest that you take a shower.”
Will attempted to return the doctor’s smile, but the pain and the tight stitches prevented this. “What
about you?”
“I’ll tend to myself while you shower,” Hannibal replied. “After that, I think we would do well
with some rest.”
Will nodded, averting his eyes and blushing again at Hannibal’s use of “we.” Warmth blanketed
his insides, comforting him more than the wool throw around his body. He stood, becoming
lightheaded again. Hannibal reached an arm up to steady him.
“Thank you,” repeated Will quietly. He reached to take Hannibal’s hand in his and gently tugged
him to his feet. Hannibal regarded Will curiously as Will took his hand to his lips and pressed a
chapped lipped kiss to his palm, maintaining eye contact all the while. “I’ll get us both some
water, so you can get started.”
Hannibal smiled down at his palm, his eyes glowing in the fire, and Will felt his gaze burning into
him as he walked into the kitchen to get the water.
He returned as a now-shirtless Hannibal was dabbing alcohol on his wound, an angry and
aggressive injury marring his side. Will’s eyes were wide, but Hannibal displayed no visceral
reaction to the pain, not even a small sign of discomfort, as he cleaned himself thoroughly.
Will set the glass in front of Hannibal and walked out to find the bathroom.
*********************
Will lost track of the time he spent below the steaming water of the shower, his mind floating in
and out of consciousness. Brief flashes of the life he left behind flickered to the forefront before
being extinguished by images of Hannibal’s eyes, memories of Hannibal’s body against his own,
and fleeting fantasies of Hannibal’s body moving above him. Occasionally, all thoughts are
burned out of his mind by the searing pain of the hot water against his open wounds.
Once he began to notice the pruning of his fingers, Will shut the shower off and toweled himself
off. The door to the bathroom opened slightly.
“Will?” came Hannibal’s low voice. “Everything alright?”
Will wrapped the towel low on his hips. “Yes. Come in.”
Hannibal stepped assuredly into the steamy room in just his wet, clingy boxers. Will did his best
not to stare, but he might have failed. With another half smile, the doctor asked, “Feeling better?”
Will returned the smile. “Much.”
Nodding towards the door, Hannibal said, “ The bedroom is immediately to the right. You should

lie down and get some sleep.”
Will nodded, beyond overcome with exhaustion. However, he hesitated, chewing his lip,
suddenly shy to look at Hannibal’s face. “Hannibal…” he said, pretending that his cheeks were
burning from the hot shower, and not from something else entirely. “Will you….join me? After
you’ve showered?”
Slightly inclining his head forward, Hannibal responded, “Of course. Now, you need to rest.”
Will didn’t stop smiling as he exited the bathroom, brushing his arm lightly against the doctor’s on
his way out and closing the door behind him.
The bedroom was right where Hannibal had indicated that it would be. The sight of an actual bed
comforted Will to no end, and despite everything that has happened to them today, despite
everything that has happened to them ever, Will crawled into the strange sheets and fell asleep
almost instantly.
At some point, much later in the evening, Will did not wake as Hannibal crawled into bed beside
him. Bursting with the most joy that he has felt in recent history, Hannibal stared incredulously at
the beautiful bare shoulder next to him before grazing it lightly with his fingertips. Hannibal fell
asleep with a smile splitting his face.
*********************
Will opened his eyes slowly, the unfamiliar smells around him filling his nose and reminding him
of his strange surroundings. A heavy ache pulsated through his skull and the wounds on his face
and chest throbbed. His throat felt dry. Plagued by this discomfort, Will groaned and rolled over.
The sight that greeted his tired eyes caused his breathing to immediately hitch and his heart to
swell impossibly in his chest: Hannibal Lecter sprawled on his back, face unlined and at peace in
his sleep, with his bare chest rising and falling gently. Ecstasy began to seep through Will as he
pushed thoughts of his circumstances aside and seized the opportunity to let his eyes roam
shamelessly over Hannibal’s unconscious form. The doctor’s build was solid, his defined chest
covered in a smattering of silvery hair that trails down to a slightly softer stomach, a charming side
effect of his adoration of rich foods. Will was surprised to feel heat rushing south as he gazed
upon Hannibal’s body. His heart rate quickened as his eyes move lower to Hannibal’s hips,
covered only by a thin cover sheet, as he’d kicked the comforter and blanket to the end of the bed
in the night. Will’s chest tightened at the knowledge that he was now privy to Hannibal’s sleep
habits.
He’d never shared a bed with anyone to whom he’s felt such closeness in the past, not even Molly
—his heart grew heavy with a dull ache as thoughts of his wife rushed through his over-sensitized
mind, adding to his throbbing headache. A wave of nausea washed over him suddenly, erasing all
prior decent feelings. He violently kicked the sheets off and stumbled into the bathroom to dry
heave into the toilet. God, his head was throbbing. The nausea didn’t cease. A huge anvil of cold
fear dropped into Will’s belly and settled there as the implications of choosing Hannibal hit him at
full force: he was a fugitive. A criminal. A killer. He had killed Dolarhyde. He had liked killing
Dolarhyde, and he had liked doing it with Hannibal. His stomach twisted as he thought of the
cooling body of the owner of this strange little house beside the sea, who he had helped Hannibal
off easily in the adrenaline-fueled insanity that immediately followed swimming for their lives after
faking their own deaths. “This is my….becoming,” he had said…was it only a matter of days ago?
It felt as though it had happened a long time ago, in a distant land, to someone else.
He had felt like he meant it at the time, he had felt like he knew what he was going to do, but that
was before…. before he was what he is now. Someone that Molly and Wally wouldn’t even
recognize. Oh, Molly and Wally….thoughts of his family were a dagger twisting in his heart, a
linoleum knife tearing through his insides… He heaved into the toilet again.
Molly…he had wanted that life with her, that normalcy, but what most people would take comfort
in as normalcy always felt like an ill-fitting suit to Will; maybe the sleeves were too long, or he
could never close it fully over his chest. The nagging feeling that he was concealing his true self
constantly tugged at him as he tried to adjust his imperfect suit of normalcy, like a hangnail
catching on a sweater. Will had known, even if he did not want to know, he had known that his

life with Molly and Wally was imperfect. Something had been missing. And his dogs…oh, his
heart cracked in his chest to think of his beloved pack, the animals who had loved him with no
judgment long before any human had.
Will braced himself on the toilet, suddenly awash with grief for the normal, Hannibal-free life he
had tried so desperately to fit himself into. Instead of providing stability for Molly and Wally, he
had exposed them to Hannibal’s wrath, to Dolarhyde’s avenging hand. Their lives would have
been much better without him. Why had he ever thought anything different?
He felt hot tears dripping onto his skin before he realized that he had been quietly crying against
his forearms, mourning the things and the connections that had never really been his.
Had he known all along that he’d end up here, alongside Hannibal, rather than staring him down
on the opposite side of the chessboard? Had his fate been sealed that day in Jack Crawford’s
office at the BAU, or had it been later at the Hobbs residence? What did it matter now, anyway,
when the only certainty in his life was the certainty that he and Hannibal were inextricably linked
from now on?
Though he mourned the normalcy he had tasted but would never taste again in a downward spiral
of doubt and self-loathing, thinking of Hannibal began to ground him. Hannibal, who had cleaned
his wounds with heart wrenching tenderness, whose beautiful design Will had finally seen and
fully understood, who craved closeness to Will more than anything…the bright ache that had
enveloped his heart the previous night and that morning upon awakening to Hannibal’s peaceful
visage returned to Will. As he felt his nausea ebbing and subsiding, Will stood and rinsed out his
mouth.
Naked as the day he was born, Will walked to the kitchen to fill a new water glass and before
returning to the bedroom. As he sat down on the bed, Hannibal rolled over to face him. Will held
his gaze as he slunk back beneath the covers to shield his lower body from view.
“You’re awake,” said Hannibal with an air of amusement, his eyes shockingly soft.
“That I am,” replied Will, smiling.
“How were your dreams?”
Will furrowed his brow. “Surprisingly nonexistent.”
Hannibal gave him a pointed look. “Well, that’s something new for you. You must have been
exhausted.” He reached forward to lightly graze the area by the dressing over Will’s stab wound,
making his slighter counterpart shiver. “Feeling alright here?”
Will nodded. Hannibal’s fingertips moved to his face. “And here?”
Will nodded again. The fingertips moved down, hesitating before brushing across Will’s lips.
Will’s stomach flipped pleasantly at the intimate touch and his cock stirred beneath the covers, two
sensations that directly contradicted the regretful, mournful thoughts he had experienced only
minutes earlier. As he searched Hannibal’s eyes with his own, he realized that they were
completely open to him for the first time. The intimacy of the moment completely overwhelmed
Will’s abnormal capacity for empathy.
Sensing Will’s distress, Hannibal moved his fingers to Will’s cheek. “What’s wrong?”
However, the concern in Hannibal’s voice only added to Will’s overloaded senses, and the sheer
volume of feelings caused Will to shift slightly and avert his eyes. He was flayed alive, bare and
exposed, completely at Hannibal’s mercy. He was mildly alarmed to find that the idea of this
didn’t bother him. In fact, he realized uncomfortably, he rather liked it.
“Will,” Hannibal’s soft voice brought him back, driving the conflict that surged within him closer
to the killer beside him, closer to the feeling that picking Hannibal had been the right decision.
Hannibal’s fingers continued to stroke his unmarred cheek. “Will. Look at me, Will.”
Blushing despite himself, Will forced himself to meet Hannibal’s gaze. The look on the doctor’s
face floored him, yet again: open and gentle, full of something that could only be described as,
much to Will’s continued incredulity, adoration.
“Hannibal,” Will started hoarsely, suddenly overwhelmed with the burning desire to be as close to
Hannibal as possible. He reached up and touched the hand that touched his face. His blood rushed
throughout his body, making his extremities tingle and his cock begin to swell.
Sensing Will’s need, Hannibal propped himself up on one elbow and closed the distance between

their lips. It was a soft, chaste kiss, but this particular type of contact in this particular area sent
electricity surging through Will. Burning from the inside out with sensation, Will exhaled shakily
before returning the kiss vigorously, parting Hannibal’s lips with his tongue. He felt everything
that Hannibal had been holding back in this kiss, their tongues frantically sliding together in a
perfectly imperfect rhythm, warm breaths passing between their mouths.
Hannibal’s free hand came to rest on Will’s bare shoulder first before slowly trailing down his
side, carefully avoiding his most recent chest wound, making every last tiny hair on Will’s body
stand at attention. Will sighed against his lips, slowly snaking his hand up Hannibal’s arm, feeling
his warm body beneath his trembling fingers. The delirium that he had experienced the previous
day returned in full force with none of the haze, crushing his headache and the pain from his
wounds in its wake.
The two new lovers explored each other in tandem, carefully and agonizingly slowly to avoid
straining their injuries. Will was panting soon after, his arousal at full hardness as Hannibal’s
lovely, sure fingers explored his arms, his chest, his stomach, and his plush lips gently kissed his
lips, his face, his neck. Will’s own desire intermingled with Hannibal’s, settling in his chest and
spreading throughout his entire body like wildfire.
Hannibal’s breath was hot on Will’s neck as he gently rolled him onto his back. Hannibal
carefully covered Will’s body with his own, propping himself up slightly with strong arms to
avoid applying pressure to either of their injuries. A thin layer of sweat had already broken out
across Will’s brow as the physical sensations collided with both of their desires; his breath came in
even shorter bursts as he looked up at Hannibal above him, somewhat in disbelief of what he was
actually seeing. How many times had he envisioned this, had he brought himself off to images of
the good doctor hovering above him, taking control? He let out a moan at the thought.
Hannibal smiled treacherously at Will as he gently, teasingly, brought his hips down to meet his
partners, brushing their flushed arousals together for the first time. At the maddening sensation,
Will’s hands flew up to grip Hannibal’s biceps tightly as he let out a small, “Ah!”
Hannibal’s head dropped slightly as he buried his nose in Will’s curls, inhaling deeply and
audibly. “Oh, Will,” he murmured softly, rolling his hips torturously. It was far too many stimuli,
and Will screwed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to regain control of his breathing, exhaling
harshly in and out of his nose as he gripped Hannibal’s arms tighter.
Continuing the slow, luxurious undulations of his hips, Hannibal slowly kissed Will’s face,
starting with the scar on his forehead, down to his cheekbones, the tip of his nose, both eyelids, his
chin…heat flooded Will’s face and he leaned into Hannibal's worshipful caresses, desperate for
more. Soon Hannibal was slowly moving down Will’s body, ever mindful of their injuries,
planting open-mouthed kisses on his sensitive neck, sucking from his collarbone all the way down
to his nipples. Will arched his back off the bed and grit his teeth in an attempt to stifle a patheticsounding mewl, but to no avail. The stitches in his cheek pulled, but that sharp pain only added to
the overload of sensation.
“Will.”
Will’s vision was slightly murky with tears as Hannibal’s voice pulled him from his overwhelmed
reverie. He stared down his own to where Hannibal rested, between his parted thighs, red lips
hovering inches away from his trembling navel. In Hannibal’s eyes Will saw every trick, every
deception, every hurtful decision repaired and made right—just like Hannibal’s favorite proverbial
teacups.
“Will, do you want me to go on?” Hannibal asked, thumbs circling Will’s sharp hips gently. Will
was painfully hard, and he was both mortified and fascinated by the pearly drop of precome that
beaded at its tip.
Will nodded dazedly, arching his back so that his cock slid against Hannibal’s chest hair.
“Will,” Hannibal tried again, forcefully squeezing his hips and pulling a low moan from his
overwhelmed lover. “I need to hear you say it.”
“God, Hannibal,” cried Will, frustrated by the lack of friction where he needed it most. “Yes, yes,
go on.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” replied Hannibal, sliding his hands lovingly up Will’s flanks, smirking

in satisfaction at seeing him so wound up.
“Christ,” said Will shakily. “When have you ever cared about that before?”
Hannibal suddenly sat up and moved back on top of Will, caging his body, and leaned down for a
bruising kiss. Both lovers pulled away panting, and Will could see through the haze of his lust and
tears that Hannibal was full of sincerity. “I don’t want to hurt you Will,” he repeated. His eyes
narrowed and darkened as he slipped back down between Will’s thighs, which parted even more
to accommodate Hannibal.
Hannibal kissed down Will’s stomach, his tongue flicking out to taste his navel, before mouthing
across the long, thick scar on his lower abdomen. Will let out a strangled cry, bringing both hands
to Hannibal’s head, running his fingers through his hair as he watched the doctor attentively.
Hannibal looked pointedly up at Will, gazing into his eyes as he licked slowly against the scar. “I
want to make you feel good,” he murmured, returning his full attention to Will’s stomach. He ran
two of his fingers lightly over the scar, kissing it again and again, whispering over and over, “I’m
sorry.”
The tears returned to Will’s eyes tenfold and he tightened his fists in Hannibal’s hair. “God—“ he
choked out. His head fell back and he turned his eyes towards the ceiling, gritting his teeth and
blinking back tears as his heart broke and came back together again.
Hannibal’s breath ghosted teasingly across his impossibly hard cock before he turned his
attentions to Will’s long legs, kissing his inner thigh gently before bending it to access his calf, his
ankle, the top of his foot, his instep. He administered the same treatment to his other leg and Will
gasped out his breaths, his cock pulsing against his own stomach, begging to be touched.
Hannibal sat up on his knees, framed by Will’s spread legs. Smiling gently at him, rubbing the
tops of his thighs, he bent down to kiss Will’s wet lips. Will grabbed at the back of his head and
moaned into his mouth. Desperately, he attempted to arch up and rub his cock against Hannibal,
but the doctor just hummed against his lips and held his hips down with force.
“What do you want, Will?” Hannibal was mere fractions of an inch away from Will’s face.
Will bucked against Hannibal’s powerful grip and threw an arm over his face, emitting a desperate
sounding whine and biting his lip. He felt Hannibal’s hand move from his hip before closing
around his erection and stroking upwards once. Will’s eyes flew open and he shouted out as his
toes curled and he arched violently off the bed. It was too much, but at the same time it just wasn’t
enough.
“What do you want, Will?” Hannibal repeated the question, lightly rubbing Will’s cock with his
palm before gripping it tightly once more for three firm strokes.
Fingers twisting in the sheets, Will blurted out, “God, fuck me, please, fuck me.”
Hannibal smirked and bent down for another kiss. This time Will propped himself up on an elbow
and forcefully gripped the back of Hannibal’s head to really smash their lips together. He tried to
convey everything he was feeling—the anger, the forgiveness, the sadness, the joy, the love—in
this fiery kiss. Hannibal groaned in surprise as he returned the kiss in earnest, slipping his tongue
into Will’s mouth as though he were laying claim to it. All the blood rushed from Will’s head to
his groin.
That’s just what Will wanted him to do.
Yanking Hannibal back by the hair just enough so that he could speak against his wet, parted lips,
he snarled, “Fuck me like you’re making me yours.”
This pulled another groan from those luscious lips. Hannibal closed the distance between them
with a growl and rolled his hips so that Will could feel his own pulsing arousal, which left a sticky
trail against his thigh.
With a strength Will had only known in the context of bloody fights, Hannibal grabbed Will’s hips
and flipped him so that he was face down on the bed. He let out a pained groan as his stab wound
made forceful contact with the mattress, but he turned his face so that his injured cheek remained
free from pressure.
Hannibal pulled his hips up and forcefully spread Will’s knees apart so that his left cheek and
chest were pressed firmly to the mattress but his plush ass was high in the air. Will had to suck his
excess drool back into his mouth at the show of force. His whole body was on fire; he was hyper

aware of everywhere Hannibal touched.
Hannibal ran his hands up the backs of Will’s thighs to his rear, grasping the ample cheeks and
pulling them apart, stimulating and exposing the most intimate area of Will’s body. Will slammed
his eyes shut and panted hotly as he felt Hannibal’s breath against him, and then Hannibal was
forcefully holding his cheeks open and running his hot, wet tongue over the tight muscle over and
over again.
Will tensed up at first, unable to control his cries of passion and surprise at the brand new
sensation—no one had ever done this to him before—but soon his tight hole was relaxing beneath
Hannibal’s talented tongue. Will’s cock ached as Hannibal continued his ministrations, massaging
Will cheeks and moaning against his hole as he alternated circling just outside the entrance with
dipping the pointed tip of his tongue just inside.
All ability to think coherently had left Will’s body; he was left with pure sensation and empathy
alone, both phenomena colliding like two ill-fated stars to create a the most incredible ecstasy. A
supernova built at the base of his spine as Hannibal licked into him incessantly, applying the same
gusto and skill that he afforded all of his endeavors, savory or otherwise.
Will was vaguely aware of the puddle of drool pooling on the mattress as he pushed his hips back
against Hannibal’s face, seeking out even more sensation, as impossible as he thought that was.
He was crying out continuously now, his voice breaking and his balls tightening up as he felt the
beginnings of an earth-shattering climax in his balls and in his belly.
Suddenly, Hannibal pulled back, panting. Will came spiraling back down to earth with a strangled
shout, ignoring the ache in his shoulders and in his most recent wounds to push himself up onto
his elbows. Rather, try to push himself up onto his elbows: he found his arms nearly unable to
support him, having turned to jelly during the mind-bending experience.
Hannibal quickly kissed both of Will’s cheeks, rubbing them gently with his palms, before kissing
up Will’s spine slowly. Will trembled like a leaf below him, biting his lip and sobbing out for him
as he felt Hannibal leaning over him, caging his body once more, mindful as ever of the wound.
“Ah!” cried Will as Hannibal’s rubbed his thick cock up and down the cleft of his ass, catching
against the overly sensitive rim on every pass. Hannibal leaned down to press a kiss to the base of
Will’s head before snaking his arms under his pliant body and flipping him onto his back. Will
stared dumbly at him in a haze of pure physical sensation as Hannibal hopped off the bed, hard
cock glistening and bouncing. With a look that could melt the clothes off of just about anyone,
Hannibal grabbed will by the hips and dragged his body to the edge of the bed, so that his ass
reached the side. He pulled Will’s legs straight up in a V shape before resting each ankle against
his corresponding shoulder. He smoothed his hands up and down Wills legs, taking a moment to
kiss both ankles before sticking his index and middle fingers into his own mouth, sucking lewdly
while staring into Will’s clouded eyes.
Breathing hard, Will shut his eyes, barely able to look at Hannibal’s lascivious display, willing
himself not to come on the spot. Seeing his own legs spread obscenely wide & knowing that he
was entirely on display to Hannibal didn’t help to calm him down. His cock ached, his asshole
ached, and all the blood in his body was concentrated below his waist. His heart was pounding
and his mind was full of what could only be described as exclamation points at the shared
sensations between himself and the man between his thighs.
“Will.” He felt Hannibal’s spit slicked fingers pressing against his hole and screwed his eyes shut
even harder, his mouth falling open in a silent cry. “Will, look at me.”
For the second time that morning, Will forced his eyes open and found himself short of breath:
Hannibal’s chest, neck, and face were flushed red from his efforts and arousal, one hand tightly
gripped his right ankle and the other was between his legs, fingers pressing insistently around the
loosened muscle, but not quite entering. Will moaned again and arched into the contact, rolling his
hips until the tips of Hannibal’s fingers were breaching him gently. Overcome with the feeling of
being stretched for the first time in years and years and years, Will knew he should take it slow,
but he was craving more. He rocked down, gritting his teeth in pain as he forced Hannibal’s
fingers deep inside of him.
Hannibal’s brow started to furrow in concern, but Will just moaned, “Please,” and continued to

fuck himself on those long, gorgeous fingers. Soon, Hannibal had slipped a third finger inside of
Will, rubbing his prostate with every stroke, the pleasure counteracting the burning pain of being
stretched too wide too soon. Will had to remember to swallow his saliva as the incredible
sensation overtook him.
“Christ,” Will choked out, clenching his asshole around Hannibal’s fingers. His cock dripped
pearly fluid onto his trembling lower abdomen. He flexed and pointed his toes, his knees knocking
in with the pleasure. “Hannibal, I—I’m ready.”
“Will,” breathed Hannibal, looking overwhelmed himself, as though he were incredulous of the
fact that Will was giving him his body at all, never mind the fantastic feeling of having his beloved
gasping for him. He withdrew his fingers with all the self-control he had. “So eager.”
Will opened his thighs even more, stretching his arms overhead. His face was flushed and slick
with sweat, his chest heaving, his curls messily framing his face. He couldn’t control his breathing
and willed himself to maintain eye contact with Hannibal as his lover spat into his own palm,
slicked up his sizable erection, and positioned himself to enter Will for the first time.
“Remember,” gasped Will thickly. “Like you own me.”
All the concern and tenderness on Hannibal’s face disappeared as his eyes narrowed. He gripped
Will’s ankles almost painfully tightly, making Will inhale sharply, before sliding his wet arousal
into Will. At the first breach, Will tensed up, fisting his own hands in his curls. Hannibal paused,
but only for a moment, before continuing to push into Will, inch by inch.
“Oh, Will,” sighed Hannibal. “You feel so good.”
The supernova that had threatened to tear Will apart earlier returned threefold: one originated at
the base of his spine while the other bloomed in his heart, and the last one threatened to pour out
of his straining cock at every push of Hannibal into his body. When Hannibal was halfway inside,
he pulled out until just the head remained inside Will, then pushed in further, fully seating himself.
Will made a punched-out noise and gripped his hair even tighter, his back arching and his toes
pointing. His mouth hung open in bliss as Hannibal repeated the thrust, picking up speed and
increasing the depth on each go.
Will’s head thrashed from side to side as he writhed on his lover’s thick cock, the pleasure-pain
already threatening to bring him to completion. Hannibal increased the force behind his thrusts,
snapping his hips forward to fill Will completely before pulling almost entirely out and pushing
back in, regularly hitting Will’s prostate.
Then the room was filled with nothing the sound of Will’s continuous moans and Hannibal’s
labored breathing, in addition to the lewd, wet sound of skin slapping against skin and the
bedsprings protesting under the force of Hannibal’s thrusts.
Hannibal’s hands had begun to sweat, though he maintained his tight grip on Will’s ankles,
spreading his legs as wide as they would go. His lips were parted as he grunted and gazed in awe
at Will’s display of wild abandon beneath him: Will was lost in it, his lovely face contorted by the
efforts of his pleasure, crying out over and over, his hands twisting in his hair, then in the sheets,
then sliding up and down his sweat slick thighs as he arched and met Hannibal’s thrusts. His cock
remained swollen and untouched, bouncing against his tight stomach. Hannibal reached down to
touch Will’s heavy balls, then to touch the place they were joined. Will groaned at this, his asshole
tightening around Hannibal as he continued to drive into him.
Inspired by the sounds of Will’s pleasure, Hannibal tightened his fists around Will’s ankles hard
enough to bruise before bending Will’s legs and coaxing them to wrap around his waist. He then
bent in half and slid his hands up Will’s body to his arms, forcing them over his head again and
holding them down with all of his strength as he drove into him. He laid his body firmly across
Will, his lovely stomach rubbing sweetly against Will’s arousal. Will’s toes curled against his back
and he cried out at the change in angle, reflexively arching up where Hannibal pinned him down.
Hannibal growled and latched his lips to Will’s sweaty neck, sucking hard before biting.
“Ah! Hannibal!” cried Will, pleasure shooting through both his and his lover’s body as he was
marked. Hannibal groaned in ecstasy and moved his lips, sucking bruises above his left nipple
first, then sucking it into his mouth and biting down.
Will screamed and thrashed, rubbing his cock frantically against Hannibal’s stomach, his arms

fighting to break free.
“Will,” Hannibal grunted thickly against his lover’s ear. “Say my name. Tell me who you belong
to.”
“Hannibal!” Will cried without pause, circling his hips desperately, writhing, his cock deliciously
slippery against Hannibal’s stomach. “God—you, Hannibal!”
Hannibal tightened his fingers around Will’s forearms as though he wished to leave bruises to
match those on his ankles. He increased his thrusts, his cock slamming against Will’s prostate
every time. Will was approaching the point of no return, climbing higher and higher with each
thrust, each pass of his slick cock on Hannibal’s gorgeous stomach, each painful dig of Hannibal’s
blunt nails into his forearms.
The pleasure overtook Will. His eyes filled with tears as Hannibal held him down, moving his
hips to meet Hannibal’s intense thrusts. “Hannibal, Hannibal!” He cried out, closing his eyes in
bliss as he felt his balls draw tight and his hole clenching around the unbelievable cock inside of
him. Stars and colors exploded behind his eyes as he neared his peak, his own hands curling into
fists so tight that his nails dented his palms. “I---I—oooh—“
“Will,” panted Hannibal. He released Will’s arms to cup his face in his hands. Will let out a
strangled noise. “Will, open your eyes.”
Using every ounce of strength and sanity left in him before he hurdled over the edge of delirium,
Will opened his eyes and met Hannibal’s electrifying, possessive, and reverent gaze. Will
squeezed his thighs tight around Hannibal’s body and brought his hands up to Hannibal’s face,
pulling him close enough so that they panted into each other’s mouths.
“Yes, Hannibal, oh yes,” Will gushed, tears flowing freely down his flushed face. Hannibal rested
his forehead against Will’s, thrusting hard and fast into him before angling Will’s face up and
panting, “Will, my Will, come for me.”
At that, Will’s entire body seized up. His stomach flip flopped like he was falling, his eyes crossed
and rolled back in his head, every seam holding his emotions back ripped wide open and exploded
as he screamed Hannibal’s name and came thickly between them, coating Hannibal’s stomach
copiously.
“Beautiful, so beautiful,” sighed Hannibal into Will’s hair, voice straining with self-control as he
fucked Will through his powerful orgasm. Once Will was shaking and limp, face streaked with
tears, throat hoarse from screaming, Hannibal let himself go, pulling Will’s hair and sucking a
bruise onto Will’s neck to stifle his cry as he finished deep inside of him.
Will was floating on a high of sensation, a raft in a sea of feelings that belonged to both himself
and Hannibal. Hannibal propped himself up on his elbows to avoid collapsing onto Will as he
regained his breath from his climax, smiling tiredly down at Will before swiping the sweaty hair
from Will’s brow and kissing him on the lips.
Will returned his smile, then his kiss, still completely overwhelmed from the experience of having
sex with Hannibal, of being as physically close as he could possibly get to the one person with
whom he shared the most profound emotional and spiritual connection. None of it mattered
anymore; not the past, not the stitches that had evidently torn in the wound on Hannibal’s side and
allowed blood to seep through the gauze during their coupling, not Molly, not Dolarhyde, not
Jack, not the FBI, nothing mattered but Hannibal, and being with Hannibal, the man who had
killed for him and would kill for him, over and over, until the end of time.
After a while they stopped kissing, and Hannibal gently pulled out of Will before easing himself
onto the bed next to Will with a groan. He swiped his fingertips through the mess on his belly.
Will looked over at Hannibal and cocked an eyebrow. He reached for Hannibal's sticky fingers
and brought them to his lips, sucking each one clean. Hannibal hummed in approval.
Will glanced down at Hannibal's bloody bandage pointedly. “How’s your, er, gunshot?”
Hannibal glanced down to the bandage and groaned again. “I’ll need to check the stitches and
redress it. I will take a look at yours as well.” He laughed a little, an unfamiliar sound that sent
warmth shooting through Will. “We should have something to eat now, too, I think.”
Will nodded before offering Hannibal a genuine, lopsided smile. “I’d say that was worth it,
wouldn’t you?”

Hannibal’s hand found Will’s above their heads, tangling their fingers together as he held Will’s
gaze. “I would say so.”

End Notes

As you can see, this is my first published Hannigram fic. Kudos, comments, &
constructive criticism are all welcomed and encouraged! I adore these two beautiful,
twisted fools, and I had to write this after the ocean of Season 3 finale feels....depending
on if y'all like this, I am debating making it into a series. I might just go ahead and make it
into a series anyway.
Title is taken from lyrics of Jakalope's "Tell Me Why". Here's the link, if you want to
listen to it (you should, it's awesome): https://www.youtube.com/watch?
v=vhEAMKmGed4

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