Chapter Text
Hannibal wasn’t exactly thrilled when Jack Crawford sent William Graham to him for unofficial psychiatric help. Actually, from the moment he heard about it, Lecter began to plan how to make a nutritious meal out of the young special agent he hadn’t even seen yet. He would have to plan it carefully, of course. After all, two FBI agents under the same man’s order who disappear would be too much of a coincidence. And he didn’t want the special agent in charge of the behavioral analysis unit be taken away and put under internal review, he hadn’t finished playing with him yet.
However, all of it changed when he actually met the young, unstable man. The doctor stopped thinking about eating the officer in the literal sense. Instead, he was going to devour the brunette’s soul and reshape him from head to toe.
It had been too long since he had felt such lust for a human being. Even more since he had wanted to take one as his lover and make them his partner in life and crime. Once he made up his mind it was time to plan. He had to make William more dependent on him, almost to the point where he would leave all the other men and women in his life of—what he perceived—was his own volition. To facilitate that process he would have to engrain himself in the special agent’s life carefully and outside the time they both knew the Bureau was paying for.
*****
Hannibal began the process slowly, building a rapport between them. Softly touching and prodding the wonderful mind of the brunette while letting him pick up on his calm, feed on the security he so carefully projected to the beautiful empath. They began to talk about other things than just the cases William had to work on during their unofficial sessions. Nothing on the personal level that actual therapy would require, but enough to make some of Graham’s toughest mental walls crack a little bit letting Lecter know the other a little better. He was, after all, a mostly accomplished and secret telepath.
One day, after a particularly hard case not related to the Chesapeake Ripper, the psychiatrist decided to make his move and invited the still visibly affected man to dinner right after their session was up. Hannibal explained very calmly that he thought Will needed a change of pace, something that would help take his mind out of the killer subspace he tended to fall into every time he used his empathy.
“It may even help keeping the nightmares at bay tonight,” he said with a confident smile, knowing that projecting those positive feelings would help to tip the scales in his favor. Graham didn’t have enough control over his own power to prevent him from taking advantage of those feeling, particularly if—as Hannibal suspected—the man didn’t even know he picked up emotions from the people around him. Moreover, the doctor knew that just the chance of a good night of sleep, one without monsters chasing and taunting him, would be an irresistible lure for the brunette.
“Do you extend such invitations to all of your patients, Doctor Lecter?” William asked, half confused and half curious.
Of course he did, from time to time, with some people that deserved the courtesy to be killed in a different background than the ones he used for the common cattle. But he wasn’t going to tell that to the younger man.
“Of course not, it wouldn’t be ethical,” Hannibal answered with half a smile. “But, I usually invite friends and FBI officers to dine with me.”
The mongoose, as the psychiatrist had called him once, raised an eyebrow, debating internally if asking under which label he was being put was terribly rude. That was one of the things that Hannibal liked about the young man: he was always so eager to please. To be a nice, polite man.
Then, a moment later, something seemed to light William’s eyes when he realized Hannibal had subtly established that he didn’t see the special agent as a patient. It clearly calmed some of the anxiousness inside the brunette.
“O… Okay then,” he acquiesced finally. Anything to keep the nightmares at bay, he lied to himself.
*****
William had heard tales of Lecter’s cooking skills, of how he could turn food into art, but he never thought there would be a day when he would have the chance to actually see it for himself. He wondered briefly if he should offer to come back later, since it was also a well known fact that the man hated to have people in his kitchen while he worked his magic. Maybe he could make a short run to the market and buy a bottle of wine for them to share? Of course, Graham wouldn’t normally spend the kind of money he was sure Hannibal did on alcohol to go with his masterpieces, but it would be the least he could do since he was getting a free meal. While he was lost in his thoughts, the older man appeared right in front of his eyes, effectively bringing him back to the present.
“I hope you haven’t dissociated just from the idea of dining with me,” he spoke softly but his smile got edgy.
“No, no, I didn’t… I know where I am, who I am…” … this time at least, he added to himself. “I just was pondering if you prefer I go out while you cook.” There was no point in trying to hide his thoughts from the man who seemed to read them anyways.
The psychiatrist preferred people didn’t watch his cooking process too closely, especially if they weren’t part of the menu. Still, he had carefully crafted this encounter—first date—outside the boundaries of his office and made most of the preparations beforehand so there was no danger in letting William inside his realm. Actually he was looking forward to seeing the beautiful man at his side while he worked. To watch his eyes following each of his precise movements while making them dinner. Hannibal planned to play a little with his unsuspecting mongoose. Flirt and taunt him with bits of food. Let him pick up on the pleasure he got from cooking.
“I pride myself on being a good host,” Lecter began while pointing at the door and guiding the brunette away from his office and into the living room. “And certainly making you go at this hour would be of the outmost rudeness,” he said while going over to a glass case where he kept drinks. With a swift movement he opened the beautifully crafted panel doors.
“Would you like some whisky?” he asked turning around with a smile.
“No, thank you, I don’t have a really high tolerance of alcohol,” Will confessed, getting a little red in the face.
“There is nothing to feel ashamed of, dear William,” Lecter said to him amicably while deciding that if he ever had a change of heart, certainly the agent’s liver would be a nice thing to take… Actually, he couldn’t think of a body part he wouldn’t love to sink his teeth into. He felt an overwhelming sense of possessiveness at the idea of someone else looking at William’s lifeless body. The older man was careful not to project his emotions, knowing he might scare the little one since he wasn’t ready for the full scale of them just yet.
“Maybe some wine, then?” Hannibal offered softly while picking up a bottle with one hand and moving to take the corkscrew with the other. He served two glasses promptly and gave one to the restless agent. He waited until the younger man took a little sip and made a soft gesture of pleasure to move things along.
“Come, my dear William, let’s make dinner,” Hannibal said while walking to his pride and joy, the beautiful kitchen. He wished the other man could actually share all of the experience that the cooking process entailed. But for now, having him there, making him grow comfortable in his space was more than enough. He was nothing if not an accomplished hunter, and any good hunter knows that patience is central to bring down the best prey.
The brunette smiled shyly and followed the older man with blind confidence. This was going to progress better than he had dared to expect if Graham kept acting so submissively. Maybe he would be able to put his collar on the younger man earlier that he had thought. Lecter had bought the high quality leather piece after his second unofficial session with the mongoose, when he had found out that William needed to have something he could touch that would give him a sense of reality. Once the profiler’s mental walls began to crack and let Hannibal see what he was trying so desperately to contain and hide from the world he had gone and bought a leash. Later on he began to put together a little treasure chest for his beloved. Everything was ready to be used and awaiting its rightful owner.
*****
Cooking was a serious business for Doctor Lecter. William had never quite believed the stories about Lecter’s obsession with making perfect food until he saw the man in action. He found himself completely immersed in the man’s elegant movements. How he cut the meat. The way he mixed ingredients. How he played with fire, adding alcohol to light up a frying pan.
He wondered briefly if the older one would concentrate so hard on everything he did, but as soon as the thought appeared he tried to repress it. This was not the time or the place to think inappropriate things about the man who was about to serve him dinner. Still, his mind refused to let go of the image of long and elegant fingers working a knife with surgical precision.
Suddenly a delicious smell filled Graham’s nose. That and Hannibal’s handsome figure working in the kitchen made him lick his lips unconsciously. His body was reacting more than he dared to acknowledge, arousal was pouring from him in waves. William was suddenly aware of his state and felt a little ashamed of himself. It had been years since he had felt so enthralled by someone else that he had absolutely forgot about his own body. It had been even longer since desire didn’t seem to come from borrowed emotions, from the lust a killer felt or that the victim had experienced before his or her passing.
Trying not to disturb the psychiatrist, the brunette tried to accommodate himself without being too obvious about it. He was not really looking forward to giving an explanation about this sudden burst of sexual desire.
Hannibal felt a lot of pride in the fact that the show he was putting on for the mongoose was having such an impact on the FBI agent... He was more than aware of how much he was affecting the other. The way Will’s pupils had dilated when he picked up his favorite knife and began cutting the soft meat. How his breathing had picked up when he moved the vegetables he was frying. And even the mostly subtle way he tried to cover his hard-on when he thought he wasn’t being watched. Lecter had never had a partner that reacted quite that way to his culinary skills. But truth was, he didn’t usually allow people inside his kitchen. If it wasn’t way too early in the game—and he didn’t respect his kitchen as much as he did—he would certainly take the brunette right there and then, against the counter in a primal, savage way...
The older one was usually a calm cook, taking a lot of time to do every little step and enjoying the peace it brought to him. But right now, having planned everything ahead of time, it was more about making an impression, an elaborated seduction.
For a second Doctor Lecter wondered if Graham would also get this aroused when he saw him hunt and take the meat they were going to consume later on from the still hot body of their chosen victim. He was sure that at some point, the dear sweet killer hidden inside the brunette’s mind would point someone out at him, a victim he particularly craved, and Hannibal was nothing if not a doting lover.
“Would you like to learn how to cook?” he asked off handedly while he cut several types of fresh lettuce to go with the main course. “I could teach you…” he offered gently while putting the chopped vegetables into a bowl.
While his voice didn’t betray an ulterior motive, Hannibal clearly projected his lust to the young man, knowing perfectly well that it was a sure way to get a reaction from him. It would also help him on an unconscious level to felt less anxious about his attraction being one sided.
At the other’s offer, the FBI special agent’s mind conjured very vivid, non-food related images of the psychiatrist doing very dirty things to him. So, in an attempt to clear his throat and answer with something that didn’t sound like a squeak, he took a big gulp of wine, effectively managing to choke on it and make a pathetic show of himself.
Way to go, Will, he thought with the outmost disgust. What was Hannibal going to think of him now? Poor little Will who can’t sleep without nightmares. Who’s mind is so fragile he had to see a psychiatrist to deal with his own job. Who can’t even handle a bit of alcohol… He kept berating himself, all desire lost at once. He wished he could dissociate on command so he would come back to reality far away from the royal kitchen he was in.
“Easy, dear William,” said the older man, putting a hand on his back and guiding him quietly to the big table. “Please sit down and enjoy the rest of your wine while I set the table.”
The younger man nodded sadly. He felt like he had been kicked out of the palace. Maybe he should have followed his gut instinct and told the man he would return later and save them both the embarrassment.
Hannibal went back into the kitchen and returned with plates and cutlery a moment later.
At last, William decided that this was the time to prove that he was no broken teacup, so he stood up and moved to the psychiatrist. He was an FBI profiler. He fought monsters every day. There was no way he was letting a little embarrassment prevent him from having a great night and enjoying Hannibal’s dinner.
“Please, let me help you with that,” Graham said softly, hoping he didn’t sound as pleading to Hannibal as to his own ears.
The grey-blond smiled kindly and gave the objects over to the special agent.
“Since you asked so politely, but please, take into account that you are here as a guest, there is no need to bother yourself.”
William had been amazed at Lecter’s demeanor before, right at the beginning of their unofficial meetings. Now he was positively enchanted by it. Around the man he always felt safe and calm. Moreover, his mind actually seemed to get quieter when the man was close, as if he could tame it. Maybe, just maybe, that was the reason he didn’t want to disappoint the man in any venue.
Hannibal was certainly delighted at the mongoose springing into action. The way he had choked on the wine and retreated into himself had him worried for a moment. But it was obvious that the man was working hard to prove that he could be stronger than anyone thought. Not that the psychiatrist had any doubt in that regard. He wouldn’t choose a lesser man.
Still, while William remained so emotionally attached to the sheep he would have to tread carefully, slowly. Graham still believed himself to be damaged goods, fighting hard to build back what he was taught to think of as sanity instead of embracing the dual nature of a law abiding citizen and an exceptional killer, much like himself. With his ability to get inside other people’s feeling he would be almost impossible to catch. He could make copycat killing an art form. Moreover, with his empathic powers he would be welcomed everywhere, by everyone in the world. Hannibal was quite excited by the idea of watching the other in action.
“Just a moment, my dear William and dinner will be served,” he said, going back to emerge with two bowls of salad which he put on the table and made the last trip to finally present Graham with the main course.
They sat down and after a brief, meaningless toast, began to eat.
Hannibal couldn’t help but notice the younger one’s eagerness, and didn’t miss his enraptured expression once he tasted the first bite of the carefully prepared feast. Will showed so much promise already. That very first taste of human flesh on his lips would certainly feed some of Lecter’s fantasies for a while.
“This is absolutely wonderful, Hannibal!” The brunette exclaimed, excited. “I mean… Doctor Lecter,” he tried to amend quickly.
“Please, William, you are here neither as a patient nor in any official capacity, Hannibal is more than appropriate,” the man said very softly while cutting another piece of meat.
The younger one smiled while taking another bite.
“Then please, stop calling me William, I prefer Will.”
The blond nodded and took another bite.
“Will it is, then,” Hannibal spoke with a smile on his face. Eventually he would give the other man a nickname of their own, but for now the psychiatrist would have to use the one that the mongoose felt comfortable with. Still, it was a step in the right direction to be on a first name basis with each other.
“You know, I never quite asked, what am I eating?” Graham questioned softly, still eating the delicious meal.
“Veal,” he lied easily. There would come a time when he wouldn’t have to mask the truth from the other man. But it was still too early in the game for that.
The two men went over safe topics like history, politics and art. William—Hannibal knew for a fact—was far from uncultured. But the doctor suspected that he preferred to downplay his knowledge in an effort to fit among the sheep, something he probably learned long before joining the FBI. Once they got together he would make the brunette stop with that nonsense. He should be proud of his unique mind in all aspects, proud of being a wolf, not pretending to belong in a pen.
They flirted easily, bantering with each other, and sharing little seductive smiles. The younger one was once again showing tell tale signs of arousal and Lecter wondered if maybe he should simply move his plans forward. Still, he knew better than to rush things, even if they were looking more and more promising by the minute.
“Everything is delicious,” the brunette complimented while taking the last few bites of his second plate.
“Thank you, Will. Maybe now I can convince you to join me for dinner again?” Hannibal's voice is deceptively soft, and it makes the younger man look at him with a shy smile on his face.
“If you always cook like this you’ll have me here every time you call,” the profiler answered with a soft smile and immediately after he uttered the words he bit his lower lip.
Will knew he was being oddly outspoken. Not only that, but his body was being a traitor, getting aroused and broadcasting it to the world and, worst yet, to Hannibal.
He wondered if maybe the wine was stronger than he thought or the good doctor had slipped something into the glass of wine he had been served earlier. But he knew that wasn’t the case at all. There was of course another thing closer to the truth to consider, being an empath he was influenced by people’s moods around him. So there was the distinct possibility that he was being fueled by emotions he was picking up. But the only person in the room with him was Lecter himself...
Was the psychiatrist lusting after him? William wondered, while the old familiar demons began to bite down on his metaphorical flesh. Why would he? Hannibal was world renown, rich, handsome while he was… well, none of those things. Oh, he knew that some people had found him attractive but he was nowhere near the blond’s league. Moreover, it was impossible for Hannibal to not see what was going on. But since he didn’t say a word, didn’t it mean he didn’t want anything to do with the likes of William Graham?
“What’s wrong, Will? You are looking quite distracted. Maybe I should serve dessert now, I’m sure it’ll help bring you back,” Doctor Lecter offered with a smile, standing up from his seat.
“I’m sorry to be such poor company…” the special agent almost whispered looking down, all desire suddenly gone from his mind and body.
The older man kept a soft expression on his angular face. The brunette looked so amazingly submissive right now. He wanted nothing more than to move over to him, take him by the nape and kiss him wildly. Bite down on his lips, maybe make him bleed a little and feed from it like a vampire. He wanted to pull Will’s head back; entangling his fingers in the unruly hair and watch his eyes go black with desire. His pretty mongoose had a masochistic streak that he planned to feed every chance he got.
“Ha… Hannibal?” he heard William calling him with uncertainty in his voice; he was watching him intensely and was pretty confused. It was obvious that he had picked up on some of his darker desires and was far from being scared or repulsed by them, which was a pleasant surprise for the doctor. Maybe the younger one wasn’t so deeply in denial about his hidden core as the doctor had feared. Still, he could tell that the FBI agent already doubted himself, wondering if he was actually reading the psychiatrist’s emotions or making it all up, maybe mistaking the influence of some low life he had chased and helped to put behind bars for his own arousal.
Well, Doctor Lecter decided, maybe he would have to show a little of his hand to put the other one at ease, at least about the sexual energy between them.
“Yes, my dear Will?” he spoke softly, in a low voice that would certainly call for the other to fix his gaze on him.
The brunette raised his eyes and licked his lips once more. Maybe he had not read the situation wrongly; maybe his arousal was caused in response to Hannibal’s emotions towards him. But he needed to know for sure. Yet, William didn’t know how to break the subject without exposing himself to ridiculed or worse. What if Hannibal took offence at his idea that he was picking up on the man’s desire? What if he didn’t know what he was projecting? It wouldn’t be the first time that he told the right thing to the wrong person and he lost someone he cared about in the process… Sometimes it had gone even worse for him.
What if Lecter went to Jack and told him that since he made what could be constructed as a sexual advance towards the doctor he wouldn’t be able to unofficially help him anymore?
William had never before found himself so conscious of how others—how living people—influenced his own reactions and moods. Some days he had suspicions about it, but it wasn’t until this night, with this attractive man that he found himself unable to deny it. That’s how Jack convinced him so easily. He simply let the man’s self-righteousness wash over his own feelings, let it take control and override his self-preservation, his need to stay at home and put everything behind him. That’s why he knew he would never get a chance with Alana, because she projected kind, soft emotions to him, not love or physical desire but sympathy. She saw him as a little brother, a friend to be protected, not as a man to share her bed with. Not that any of it prevented him from trying to make a more earthy connection with her, but that was the reason he hadn't been heartbroken over her rejection.
With Hannibal it was a different story. He wouldn’t take kindly to being told off. And that idea startled him. Since when had the doctor become such an important person in his life? They hadn’t known each other for long, quite the contrary, just a couple of months back and this was the very first time they’d seen each other outside work. He certainly shouldn’t be feeling such strong emotions.
“Dessert sounds good… yeah,” William managed to utter at least, kicking himself for his cowardice.
“Of course,” the older one said walking to the kitchen.
Poor mongoose, so conflicted. Hannibal thought, allowing himself a feral smile now that he was inside his kitchen and out of the little one’s gaze. He took out the chocolate mousse already in cold glasses, ready to be served, and, putting his mask back in place, he walked back to the table.
Lecter found the special agent staring intently at the wall right at his back. For a moment the psychiatrist wondered if Will was trying to deal with the stress and anxiety he was feeling by actually trying to dissociate from reality, so he prodded the other’s psyche carefully.
The brunette was scared and half convinced that he was actually going to send him—Hannibal Lecter—running for the hills by being forward and asking about the emotions that got such a sensual response from him. Being an empath wasn’t fun if you only got manipulated, the psychiatrist thought with a smirk. But in Graham’s case at least he knew without a shadow of a doubt that his emotions were his own and not simply an imitation of what others projected. Will didn’t feel the same things that the person doing projecting did, even if he could experience some of it to the point he could feel something akin to physical pain. No, the emotions he picked up on made him react in a certain way all of his own. Take that idiot Crawford for example. If he saw Graham like this he would start projecting worry and anxiousness and only manage to damage the young one further since his mind would try to help him put on a braver front and pretend he was okay to make Jack stop sending such strong emotions to him.
Unlike the FBI head profiler, Hannibal knew exactly how to get the man to snap out of it with a less negative impact.
While he put the cold dessert in front of William he began to speak very slowly, calling the young one back from the turmoil of his mind, telling him where he was, who he was with, explaining to him that the dessert was already served and it would go to waste if he stayed in his headspace for too long. And while he said all of those things to the special agent he let his usual calmness wash over the brunette.
Once he noticed that the dark eyes were focused again, he welcomed the young man back.
“Do you know where you are, William?” he asked professionally.
“I’m in Baltimore, having dinner with Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” the brunette answered almost on autopilot. He turned his wrist to look at his watch. “It’s half past ten p.m.”
“Good,” the older one said with a friendly smile. “Why don’t we finish the mousse now?” he invited. “And later you can tell me what had you so uncomfortable that you felt the only acceptable response was to hide inside that wonderful mind of yours.”