The doorbell sounded, a dark metallic chime, as Will Graham stood awkwardly outside of Hannibal Lecter's front door. He shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably for a moment or so until the door opened to reveal Hannibal impeccably dressed, as always. His gray plaid three-piece suit fit him to a T, and his hair was immaculately styled in order to make his facial features more prominent.

"Ah, Will. Come in," Hannibal stepped aside and let the profiler into his house before closing the door. "You look wonderful."

Will rolled his eyes, looking down at his dark blue jeans and light gray shirt. Briefly he made eye-contact with the older man before looking away and saying, "You're such a liar."

"My dear Will, why would I lie to you?" Hannibal placed a hand on Will's stubbled cheek and turned his head ever-so-slightly so the other man couldn't look anywhere but his face. He slowly pressed his lips to Will's, moving his hand to his neck and holding the younger man in place. Their kiss was rhythmic and soon turned into a war of teeth and tongues, making Will pull away and press his forehead to Hannibal's, gasping for air.

"So what's for dinner?" Will questioned, still a little breathless.

"You'll see," Hannibal trailed the hand on Will's neck down his arm before entwining their fingers together and leading him down the hall into the kitchen.

Letting go of Hannibal's hand, Will leaned against the counter as he watched Hannibal slip on his apron and begin cooking. He rested his chin on his hand as he became engrossed in Hannibal's ways. Cooking was an art to the other man, and watching him in action was something of a privilege.

As Hannibal began cutting various things, Will focused on his fingers. They moved so elegantly and fluidly, never faltering or second guessing their movements. Soon his thoughts wandered to what else those fingers could do, especially to him, and he felt something inside of his pants twitch involuntarily.

A voice broke him out of his half-thinking, half-observing state. His eyes floated around the room for a moment, not really seeing, "yes?"

"Will, I'd like your help," Hannibal was turned away from him, hands in the sink, apparently washing something.

"Me? Hannibal you know I can't cook."

"I'm not asking much of you. Just come stir this," he pointed to a metal bowl filled with what looked like butter.

Will walked around the counter and gently took the metal spoon from Hannibal, and began to carefully stir whatever was in the bowl. He had learned long ago not to question what ingredients Hannibal used in his dishes, purely because Hannibal was so secretive about them to begin with. Whenever asked, he would give vague answers or blow you off completely, so Will was content simply stirring the mystery liquid and herbs.

"Why do you need me to stir this anyways?" Will asked after a few moments, sparing a glance at Hannibal, who was walking over with a tray of a thinly sliced purple vegetable.

"I didn't," Hannibal smiled warmly at Will, "I just wanted to keep you busy."

Will chuckled and gifted Hannibal with one of his rare smiles, causing Hannibal to lean in and give the man a quick peck on the cheek. Despite his knowing how Hannibal never liked to divulge his ingredients, Will felt the strong need to ask about the light purple vegetable.

"It's a purple sweet potato," he replied nonchalantly.

"And you're putting butter on it?" Will asked with a puzzled expression blatant on his face. As a child he'd never been introduced to 'finer dining,' it was always Grandma Graham's recipes and the occasional microwave dinner.

Hannibal smirked and took the bowl from Will, explaining how he was to lightly drizzle it on the potato and that it was a "sweet butter sauce," crafted specifically to highlight the flavors of the potato. Will shook his head, clearly lost and willing to let his question drop.

"So when will dinner be served?" Will asked as Hannibal placed the tray into the oven, along with what seemed to be a form of meat on the rack above inside the oven.

"Once everything is done cooking," Hannibal replied, wiping his hands on his apron before slipping it off and placing it daintily onto the counter, "So about fifteen minutes."

"What can we find to do so we waste fifteen minutes?" Will asked, hoping the other man would understand what he was implying. He needn't worry though, for Hannibal had already anticipated the wait and planned ahead.

"There is no such thing as a waste of time, dear Will. Each minute is purposely used to better a person's life in whatever way they feel fit. In our case, we will be exploring each other on a more physical level during the moments we have in preparation for our meal."

Will would never understand how Hannibal could explain making-out so matter-of-factly and precisely, but he didn't particularly care at the moment. The next thing he focused on was the European man wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning his head down to gently press their lips together.

Hannibal's kisses never failed to amaze Will. They started off slow and sensual, lips moving in a well-practiced rhythm. Once they opened their mouths and began to taste one another, though, all guards went down and it became a violent free-for-all. Will turned his head to give Hannibal better access as the other man licked into his mouth and sucked his bottom lip. The profiler felt a pinch of pain as their mouths moved together and realized that Hannibal had bitten his lip. The first time Hannibal had ever done that had been quite a shock, but Will had come to accept, and enjoy, when Hannibal's tongue dragged across his wound and licked up the drops of blood that quickly surfaced.

All too soon the timer on the oven beeped loudly, interrupting their "explorations" and causing Hannibal to pull away quickly and run to take out the food. Will swayed for a moment and steadied himself, trying to contain the desire that was flowing hot through his veins.

"Please go into the dining room, Will," Hannibal told him without looking, focusing on the food and plating.

He walked through a doorway into the dining room and sat down quietly, observing all of the live plants and herbs growing on the wall. Hannibal came in not a minute later with two beautifully plated entrees, placing one at each dining mat. He then proceeded to pour wine into the two glasses and sat down.

Raising his glass, he said, "A toast. To us."

Will nodded in agreement and clinked their glasses together before sipping the wine. He knew he shouldn't ask, but his curiosity got the best of him, "so, ah, what is this? I mean I know about the potatoes, but what cut of meat is this?"

"It's pork loin, Will. Now please eat before it gets cold."

They began eating their meal in a comfortable silence, neither one willing to bring work into the mix of such a wonderful evening.

"It's delicious, Hannibal," Will complimented, taking another bite of his loin.

"Thank you, Will. I'm glad you like it. And I had meant to ask if you'd like to stay the night."

Will swallowed nervously and didn't answer right away. It wasn't like they hadn't stayed at each other's houses before; it was just that Hannibal had never asked so outright before. Typically it went without saying that after whatever festivities happened that evening that the other would stay the night, whether sexual experiences occurred or not.

"Something wrong, Will?"

"No. It's just . . ." Will trailed off for a moment, "you never ask."

"I realize that, and I found it incredibly rude to assume you have nothing to do the next day. So, again, would you like to stay tonight?" Hannibal looked pointedly at him, expecting an answer.

"Of course I'll stay," he chuckled, taking yet another bite of food.

"Good. I have quite the evening planned for us," Hannibal smiled darkly, finishing the last bite of his meal.

Will felt Hannibal's words go straight to his crotch, making his pants a little tighter than they should have been. Feeling his face grow red, he quickly pushed the impending sexual thoughts from his mind and finished his food.

"If you'd like, you may go make yourself comfortable upstairs and wait for me while I clean up. I hate having a less-than-pristine kitchen," Hannibal told Will, kissing him gently on the lips and walking out of the room with both plates on his arm.

After walking up the stairs and down another corridor, Will found himself in Hannibal's bedroom. He always felt awkward being sent up alone because he never knew what to do with himself. Hannibal saw him as an object of desire and sexual pleasure, but Will never felt like one. Usually he climbed onto the bed and sat until Hannibal came up, but something caught his eye as he moved to the massive piece of furniture.

Was that a . . . paddle? He walked over to the corner of the room, and behind the potted plant there was indeed a leather sex paddle. Will couldn't help but to think about what it would feel like to have it used on him. The leather slapping against his skin, leaving mark after mark. He bruised easily, so the use of the paddle would be remembered for a few days. Each dark, mottled, tender spot of skin would remind him of the pained pleasure he enjoyed when with Hannibal. And fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing he'd thought of in awhile.

He suddenly felt a presence beside him and turned around to be face-to-face with Hannibal. Hannibal, ever so observant, noticed how tight Will's pants seemed to be and eyed him curiously.

"I see you've found it," Hannibal stated, gauging Will's reaction. He seemed very flustered, something Hannibal enjoyed immensely.

"What is 'it' exactly?" Will countered, trying to keep himself in check.

"Why, Will, you've never seen a paddle before?" Hannibal reached behind the plant and held the black leather firmly, patting it against his hand a few times. He could see how affected Will was by the device, and Hannibal was determined to draw it out for as long as possible.

"Not," Will swallowed forcefully, "not in person, no."

"You'd like me to hit you with it, wouldn't you? Slap this leather over and over onto your tight little ass," Hannibal sneered, walking closer and whispering, "You want that, don't you?"

A tremor of desire went through Will, visibly shaking him. Hannibal was pleased with his reaction, but he wanted more. He wanted to hear him say it.

"Yes," Will croaked after a moment, his voice becoming hoarse.

"What, Will, what do you want?"

Will gulped again, and then said quietly, "I want you . . . to spank me."

"Right now? With your clothes on? Specify yourself, Will."

"I want you to spank me when we're having sex," he said in a rush, the words fumbling over one another in order to come out, "Happy now?"

A deliciously wicked smile crossed over Hannibal's face, "oh yes, quite."

Their lips crashed together again, full of unadulterated desire. They wasted no time in removing their clothes as they fumbled to the bed and clamored onto it, Will on his back and Hannibal straddling him, dominating him. With one knee on each side of his hips and completely bare save for his tie, Hannibal preened over Will, laying kiss after kiss onto his naked body.

Will arched his back, leaning in to each touch and kiss the doctor left on his skin. Hannibal's hands dug into Will's hips forcefully, ensuring bruises the following morning. Each time the two made love, neither one came out unscathed. Their wounds were labors of love, reminders that they belonged to one another and no one else.

"Get onto your hands and knees," Hannibal growled into Will's ear.

Will obeyed the command instantly, flipping over and wincing in agony as his cock accidentally brushed against the rough material of Hannibal's comforter. They were both fully erect now, and each itched for friction of some sort. Hannibal quickly reached into his bedside table to pull out a condom and lube, also grabbing the paddle in the process. Will twisted his hands into fists, holding the comforter as Hannibal let his erection rest against the younger man's inner thigh.

A loud smack resonated through the room as the leather paddle made contact with Will's bare skin. His hands clenched the comforter tighter and he let out a wail of pain, which quickly turned into pleasure.

"Mmm, you liked that didn't you?" Hannibal nipped at Will's ear aggressively, almost to the point of biting through the skin.

"Yes," Will grunted, "more."

Hannibal hit him again, eliciting a wanton moan of pleasure from Will once again. He rocked forward, his cock brushing against the comforter again.

"Have you been a naughty boy, Will? Do you need to be taught a lesson?" Hannibal's voice was gruff with lust.

"Yes, hit me again. Hannibal, please," Will cried out, begging for more.

Hannibal struck him again and again, each time bringing Will closer and closer to coming without even being fucked. He wasn't the only one benefitting either, because hearing Will yell out so forcefully nearly brought Hannibal over the edge as well.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Will."

Following the command, Hannibal tore open the foil and rolled the condom over his throbbing member, and squirted some of the lubricant into his hand. After coating his fingers thoroughly, he pressed his index finger into Will's entrance greedily. He pushed inside, and began to finger-fuck the younger man, who rocked backward eagerly. When he thought he'd sufficiently gotten Will used to one finger, Hannibal added a second. This routine continued until Will was successfully being fucked by three of Hannibal's fingers and close to the point of release.

Emptying more lubricant out onto his hand, Hannibal quickly covered his member and thrust into Will. Cringing, Will gripped the comforter and waited until he had properly adjusted to Hannibal's size before swiveling his hips to signal he was ready. Hannibal took the opportunity to pull almost completely out and thrust in again, falling into a pattern of push and pull in time with Will.

Hannibal had nearly perfect aim, and Will's shrieks of ecstasy were evidence of his prostate being hit every time he was thrust into. They fell into a rhythm, push and pull and squeeze and smack. As he fucked into him, Hannibal gave up the paddle altogether and hit Will repeatedly, doubling the younger man's pleasure.

"H-Hannibal-" Will struggled to say, trying to alert the other man he was at his breaking point.

Without saying anything, Hannibal reached forward and took Will's cock into his hand. He stroked a few times, and with a pained cry, the FBI profiler was coming onto his hand in white hot streaks. Lifting his hand to his mouth, Hannibal licked up Will's aftermath and shuddered as he climaxed inside of the other man.

He pulled out after a moment, causing Will to collapse onto the bed in exhaustion. Hannibal rolled off the used condom and tied it, placing in the garbage bin next to his bed. He turned to look at Will who was now laying on his back and staring up at the high ceiling.

"I didn't know you had it in you, Will."

"Yeah, well neither did I," he responded, dragging a hand across his face and rubbing his eyes.

"You did very well," Hannibal purred, trailing a finger down to a bruise already forming on Will's hip.

"That's going to hurt tomorrow," Will said, staring at the hand on his body.

"But it was worth it."

It wasn't a question, and Will knew it, but he still felt compelled to answer, "Yes."

He turned to Hannibal then, avoiding eye contact with him. Without another word, Hannibal threw the comforter over them both and scooted closer to Will, cradling him in his arms. Will reciprocated the touch, wrapping his arms around Hannibal's torso, his eyes heavy.

"Sleep, Will," Hannibal whispered gently, turning off the light and cuddling with the young man.

"Goodnight, Hannibal," Will said drowsily.

Hannibal placed a kiss on the top of his head and before he drifted off to sleep quietly said, "Goodnight, Will."

First ever fic exchange, so Rie, this one's for you!

Comments and reviews are always appreciated!