“I want you to hold me close Will”
“I’ll hold you as close as I can get, as I want to get”
“Why not more? If you could etch yourself into me, would you do it, would you melt your flesh into mine like liquid iron into fire, we were meant to complete each other ”
*Will remained silent*
“I could write love letters with your blood, I could carve my name deep until your bones and it would still not make you mine, why, why do you not let me, Will?”
“If I give myself to you, I will be lost permanently; there will be nothing left of my humanity. I will be one with my monsters, giving in to their impulses. I cannot let that happen.”
“Quite the opposite. By giving in to me, you will give in to your true self, the one lurking in the shadows, always waiting, pacing, feeding on the mere idea that one day these murders could be your design. I am not your enemy Will, the only harm caused to you is the one you bring to yourself.”
“They will never truly belong to me though. I’ll always be a puppet in your hands. Free will would be a meal you would gladly deny me. None of my kills were mine to begin with, it was always you, you appropriating yourself of everything that touches you, you always feel the need to leave your mark, however small or insignificant it may be I have learned to recognise it.”
*Will marked a pause*
“You corrupt everything you touch”
“I awake what lays dormant for too long”
“What you awake in me is unnatural”
“It was always there to begin with. How else would I surprise you Will? You are quick to fall back to your feet, you’re in constant search of new stimuli, there are no better ways to satisfy your hunger than surprises, and I never disappoint.”
Will stood before Hannibal without a word. He was studying him, considering him carefully. A trapped stag in front of the hunter, only he wasn’t trapped nor was he the prey.
Will wasn’t looking for affection. He was looking for understanding. As for love... He already had it, in its own particular way.
Hannibal drew in closer to Will, hair brushing on one another’s forehead. It always has to be a game, a game of light and shadows, of blood and pain, a game that we all understand and that we all play.
Whether we want it or not.
Will cautiously raised his hands to Hannibal’s cheeks and carried them high, past his ravenous eyes, into his sandy hair. As his hands caressed his scalp, Hannibal lowered his head in what looked like a sign of submission, of surrender.
Agile fingers began to slide to Will’s sides to slip under his shirt, palms pressing harder as they went, like sandpaper on his skin. A rough desert caress.....
As grains of sand began to settle on his back, Will began to hold Hannibal’s shirt and pulled him roughly to him. Hannibal always had a fondness for violence, Will’s in particular, one he had wanted to get a taste for so long. While they battled for dominance in the heat of their aggression, a hunter emerged from a crimson victory.
A blood red satin kiss.
Hannibal twisted Will’s arm in a ripening sound, pulling it far behind his uncovered back, a promise etched in pain, speaking of surrender and violence, stretching away at the violent tug. Games of shadows and screams turning and tearing away among the sheets, tainting the air with an aura of monstrosity.
“Give yourself to me Will, mind and body, and I will vow to restore their forgotten splendour.”
Hannibal twisted Will’s arm further back, his thumb pressed tighter on his wrist. The sound of Will’s helplessness was more pleasurable than he could admit.
“Let go Will, stop fighting.”
Will let go. He let himself choose to be vulnerable in the face of his lover, his captor. His shoulders relaxed themselves, his body still arching forwards began to fall in contact with Hannibal’s chest, boiling with a heat barely containing itself, seeping through the torn fabric of his shirt. What little of Will’s back free of Hannibal’s control began to press itself against him, hard until Will was able to brush his stubble against his cheeks.
Releasing Will’s arm, Hannibal held on to his sides while greedily kissing his neck. His tongue was assiduously accompanying the movement of his lips on the delicate layer of skin that separated his jugular from his teeth. Hannibal did justice to every part of Will’s body, caressing his shoulder blades and ribs, passing over his abdominal muscles and pectorals, sculpted wonderfully over the years but never put under good use, until now.
Shoulder kissed, shoulder bitten, shoulder ripped. The wound exposed, he inserted his tongue among the dancing tissues and capillaries. Swirling round and round, as he unzipped Will’s pants.
Will turned around before Hannibal could finish undoing his jeans, and approached his face close enough to distinguish the metallic taint in his mouth. He kissed him again, this time with more fervour and intent. There was something raw about the way he tasted of salted aggression and violence, and the way he smashed his lips against his to wrap his passion around. Back and forth movements only stopping to locate buttons still closed in on Hannibal’s shirt. He unbuttoned them one by one, accentuating the wait between the next kiss, the next touch. Shaking from the rush of adrenaline, Will gave up on unbuttoning and ripped the remaining ones apart.
His hands came down to the rim of his belt. He unbuckled it while resisting to pouring stabs of hungry suction along his jugular.
Silken trousers scrapping against Hannibal’s thighs, calves, heels, feet and tip of his toes, while Will went slowly down his body, tongue and lips working together as one, coursing on Hannibal’s abdominal muscles until the rim of his briefs. Will brought his teeth to the edge and began pulling it down until the tip of his toes. He found his way up by leaving warm kisses along the length of his thighs, while caressing the length of his legs with his fingers.
He put the length of Hannibal deep inside his mouth, he could taste the anticipation seeping out of his cock. Salted pleasure melting away in his mouth. He tasted him hard, head falling up and down, gritting away the hardened member as he rose up and down.
Love isn’t so hard under the tightened grip of pleasure.
Hannibal’s heavy breathing dominated over the silence. Noise and silence resonating as one in harmony. Silence sometimes speaks the loudest. Occasional moans left from the air in his lungs would fill the room once more. Lips clasped around the tip, Will went further down, biting hard as his tongue trailed over the marks left in his flesh. Fingers dug deep into Will’s hair, Hannibal pushed his head to the rhythm of his ebbs and flows. Long moans escaping his control, becoming shorter and harsher as Will disappeared into the depths, carving his fingers into his frail back. Before Will could get the best of him, Hannibal pulled him up by his curls and slammed his lips onto his. He turned him around and removed the remaining fabric that clothed him, while his hands slithered their way around Will’s hips and backside. Hannibal rammed his cock inside Will and hardened all the better at the sound of Will’s distress.
Hannibal brought Will on his lap, straddling his body from behind, both undulating like snakes in a violent mating ritual. Suppressed moans coming from Will travelled on the rippled sheets, bloodied by the course of passion. His fingers ran the length of Hannibal back, nail first in flesh. Nail thirsting flesh. Under the toil of coming and going penetration, Hannibal pressed his face against Will’s before carving his skin with teeth marks once more.
“Love is about destroying one another and rebuilding the pieces, Will, watch me orchestrate your new becoming”
Between two moans, Will managed to reply out of breath, “And watch us become one”
In one last consummating embrace, Will began to claw his way in Hannibal’s chest. Digging his nails deep into his skin, he removed as many skin layers as he could, until he ultimately realized that his teeth were more appropriate for the task. He shredded apart his epidermis and blood vessels to bits until they became unrecognisable. When he reached the bowels, he pulled them out of all their lengths and tossed them away from the cavity. He emptied his insides of all organs and fat, of all obstructions and obstacles, of all his humanity. He found the heart still encapsulated by his lungs and the pool of blood that had formed when he had begun to rip his body apart. It looked surprisingly human for the monster he was. And so did Will’s. A smooth creamy red coursed its way outside his body, when it wasn’t tainting the remaining pieces of skin still hanging from his chest. A hand came down hard, slamming on his ribs, and another, then another. It was as if Will believed that violence on its own could break open his ribs. The bones gave away and exposed the lungs to the open air, and to the enraged lover awoken by a tantrum of pure passion. Shredded apart, they left a bloodied Will putting his trembling hand on the still beating heart of his lover. Out of breath but full of a true sense of accomplishment and relief, Will brought his coloured body inside Hannibal’s and cradled his legs to his chest, forehead against his racing heart, pulling remaining bits of skin around him like a blanket.
Safe at last.