Thread: Chocolate Rain - Blog Posts

Will outright grinned.  There is a certain flavor of satisfaction that comes from being the first to do anything for someone.  Having this would be another link in the gold chain of his mind, tying together the various impressions he had of the man in front of him.

“I think you will,” he said, fingers working to unclasp the belt and slip it out from its loops.  “And I’ll start slow.  Make it last as long as it needs to.”  The leather was tough and smooth in his palm.  Folding it once, he gave one soft smack of it against his palm.  He folded it one more time and did it again, this time satisfied with the sharp, tight sound he got.

Standing up to full height again, he unzipped Hannibal’s pants and slipped his fingers down to palm the hard girth there.  He wanted to feel it before he saw it:

“Well, shit, Dr. Lecter,” he murmured, “not bad at all.”

He continued to stroke, lightly, as he continued:  “I need you to pick a word.  Any word you like, but it’s got to be short and easy to remember.”  Absently, he slid the belt gently up and down Hannibal’s thigh, his back, up under his chin.  “Anytime you want me to stop, use that word.  I’ll stop no matter what, alright?”

He nipped at his new lover’s jaw while his mind whirred over a myriad of possibilities; some included the belt, the counter, the chocolate, and the hours left to them in the night.  “What’s your word, Hannibal?”

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

Will hummed as Hannibal bit and sucked, eyes fluttering shut to feel those teeth and that tongue more acutely.  He rolled his hips a little, just to tease the shape of his growing erection against Hannibal’s.  A small hiss when Hannibal nibbled his ear; he grinned:

“Good man.”  He stripped his shirt off and cast it to the side.  One arm snaked around Hannibal’s middle to press him closer ad he reached for the bowl of chocolate with the other.  The feeling of skin on skin, muscles twitching against muscles, Hannibal’s hair against his own hairless chest, saturated his senses and he let his drawl run deep when he spoke:

“Now, close your eyes—,” a wink, “please.”

With two fingers dipped into the chocolate, he started drizzling the sauce on select areas of Hannibal’s neck, his collarbone, his shoulders and such, moving downward along the body.  He lapped and slurped and bit the chocolate off as he went, making obscene noises and leaving little toothy indents like breadcrumbs.  Occasionally, he’d let his fingernails scrape down some patch of skin to see the flesh pink in neat lines.

As he got ever lower, closer to Hannibal’s belt he paused to look up at Hannibal, his eyes clear and bright.  “I’m going to remove your belt, but I’d like to use it on you.  Is that alright?”

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

Will allowed Hannibal to do this; let his hand be guided down and to the undoing of that top button.  He pressed his nail into the skin, feeling the dusting of chest hair there catch as he scratched his way down.  He let himself be guided back to the bowl, hands braced against Hannibal’s shoulders for balance.

“Then I’ll give you me.”  Will said, and felt the warmth of chocolate and Hannibal’s lips against his own.  He licked around and in Hannibal’s mouth, scraping his teeth against lips and tongue.  He brought a hand up to cup Hannibal’s neck and adjust the angle; he wanted to taste as much of this man as possible.  With his free hand, he undid the rest of the shirt buttons and ran his fingers through Hannibal’s chest hair, sometimes scratching down to feel that rhythmic catching of hair against nails.

Pulling away, breathing a bit labored, Will wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  His fingers lifted the hem of his shirt slightly, just enough to reveal some of his skin.  He paused and his mouth twitched into a smirk:

“What’s the magic word?”

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

Letting his finger be sucked into Hannibal’s mouth, it isn’t hard to imagine the same happening to his cock.  He rocks his hand forward, gently, to make Hannibal tilt his head back; his finger crooking to press into the soft muscle of Hannibal’s tongue.  When Hannibal finishes, Will watches the remaining glint on his upper lip.

“Good.”  He says, catching Hannibal’s chin in his hand.  He rubs that glint on Hannibal’s lip with his thumb.  It’s addictive, the way he can manipulate just this small part of Hannibal; the flesh pinking a little as he presses and pushes, feeling the teeth behind the lips.

Will leans in, just close enough that his breath puffs against Hannibal’s skin and he can see the distinct lines of color in Hannibal’s eyes.  His lips brush Hannibal’s slightly when he speaks: “Want some more?”

His hand moves to cup Hannibal’s neck, the base of his palm on the Adam’s apple.  He doesn’t apply any pressure, yet.

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

Will watches the flex and roll of Hannibal’s muscles for a few moments; the suggestion beneath his shirt, the tightening sinews of his arms.  He removes his own jacket, folding it over one of the kitchen stools.  Instead of rolling up his sleeves, he undoes the buttons of his shirt and discards it the same way; he stretches his arms, now feeling a little freer in just his undershirt.

“You think this’ll be enough, then?”  He stirs the chocolate with a wooden spoon, turning it over to keep the temperature even.  It occurs to him that, at a previous time and place in their lives, Will might have had an issue with Hannibal having an entire bowl of chocolate ready for this.  It also occurs to him that he is no longer the Will that would have that issue.

He dips his finger into the chocolate, about up to the second joint, covering it in thick syrup.  He walks over and brings the chocolate up to Hannibal’s lips.  “Tell me how it is.”

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

@runsonfear

A low, breathy little laugh escapes just as Hannibal collects his plate, “Don’t need to.”

This close, Will can see even clearer the minute changes in Hannibal’s face as he speaks.  Will could watch that for hours, he thinks.  He leans in just a little, so his nose is nearly bumping Hannibal’s.

He says: “I’ll help you with the chocolate,” then abruptly turns and leaves for the kitchen.

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

He notices his mouth has gone open: just a little breath shaped ‘o.’ Taking the wineglass he finishes it off in one gulp, hissing between his teeth when the bitter front of the wine blooms in his throat.

“Now that,” he stands, letting his eyes run over the shape and fabric of Hannibal’s suit, “does arouse my interest.”

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

did u bring the chocolate tho

“And you find me interesting…attractive.”  ‘Aroused interest’ definitely describes it.  Will looks up from his silverware and meets Hannibal’s eyes again.

“Then I’m something you want, Dr. Lecter.”

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

A grin pulls itself across Will’s face.  He refocuses his attention on his silverware, shifting them in his hands and biting his lip to hide a laugh.

“Depends on the amount of alcohol in my system.”  It’s a weak feint, he knows.  “What arouses your interests, Doctor?”

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

Will’s gaze flicks between Hannibal’s mouth and eyes.  “When it comes to your cooking, I don’t know if what I feel is surprise anymore.  Maybe something closer to ‘aroused interest.’”  Or resigned confusion.

“In any case,” he leans forward, elbows rested on the table, “I don’t mind learning a few new tricks.”

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

Will brings his own wine glass to his lips; an unintentional mirroring.  "What kind of tricks?  Are we talking Benihana or…?”

The wine is white and not over-sweet; a light taste to cleanse the palate and compliment the meat.  That’s the extent of Will’s knowledge on the matter, but he appreciates it all the same.

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

Will studiously watches Hannibal’s hands and mouth, one eyebrow twitching upwards.  With one last dubious look at both the food and his companion, he mimicked the process.  Crack the shell, pull it out, scrape the top, et cetera.  He pauses before pressing his lips to the tip of his morsel and then pushing the food all the way into his mouth, a little slowly.  It is, of course, delicious.

He swallows.  “Alright.”

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”

“Not exactly.  It’s just, eh, not very obvious how I’m supposed to even eat this.”

// if u wanna // [runsonfear]: "I assume this is a food."

“You’re not hesitating are you? I assure you, it’s delicious.”