its hot in wolf trap, virgina. the sun beats down and the air is humid, weighing down on will as he arrives home from quantico. his A/C breaks rather often, and today is one of those days.
will doesn't bother to go inside. there's no one around for miles and the house will be stifling, even more so than his porch. instead he strips down, tossing his clothes next to him as he lays on the couch he keeps outside. he dozes off, the sun warming his skin, knowing he has nothing to do for the next 12 hours.
will ends up dreaming. he's in hannibals office, spread out in his chair, completely bare. he has his hand around his cock, his movements guided by accented words. a familiar lithuanian accent encourages him, little whispers of "you are doing so well, will. such a good boy," and "don't be shy, show me what makes you feel good."
he cant see hannibal, but he can feel his presence, strong, domineering, gentle. he likes the breath he can feel on the shell of his ear as hannibal encourages him. he is so close, he just needs a little more—
"—cum for me, boy."
and that's all he needs to be spilling over himself. he wakes up then, after he's made a mess of himself and his porch couch. its humiliating, to be quite honest, that his unofficial therapist had him cumming in his sleep like he was in high school again. he moans blearily, stretching as he prepares to get up and clean himself, when he hears a familiar accented voice.
--
when hannibal left his office to go see will, using a case jack gave him as an excuse, he did not expect to find will naked and exposed on his porch. he certainly did not expect to find will naked and grinding against the cushion he was laying on.
hannibal supposes he should try to wake will up, to spare him humiliation. hannibal also supposed that if will happens to not wake up, he should need proof of that. he slides his phone out of his pocket, sets it to video, and presses record. hannibal then murmurs at will halfheartedly, saying "will, wake up. I have a case to talk to you about."
will, predictably, does not wake up. will, unpredictably, lets out a muddled moan, his hips twitching.
fascinating.
if hannibal were to test something, surely he could not be faulted for that.
keeping his voice low, hannibal croons, "will, darling, what are you doing?" and will lets out a gasp and a high whine, his hands loosely grasping at the couch he rested on.
how is hannibal supposed to resist those sweet sounds? hannibal encourages hims softly, drinking up the soft whimpers as hannibal plys him with praise.
wills noises grow desperate, and hannibal looks on with amusement. hannibal tells his sweet boy to cum, and he does, calling a slurred version of hannibal's name as his cock jerks and spills.
hannibal sees wills eyes fluttered open soon after that, and he cant help purr, "did you have a nice nap, will?"
--
oh god.
will slowly tilts his head up, blue eyes meeting deep hazel.
hannibal is on his porch. hannibal is on his porch and will has cum all over himself. hannibal is on his porch and will is covered in cum because he dreamt about hannibal.
credits to @frederickchiltonsdivacup and @will-grahams-larynx for inspiring me through a conversation we had
*gasp* YIPPEEEEE YAYAY IM SO HAPPY THIS IS SO FUCKING AWESOME
