a prompt for the day (if you have time of course): a theremin fic since it's the 105th birthday of our Lithuanian theremin queen Clara Rockmore. She's born in Vilnius (the same with hanni) and so talented and elegant that I feel like Hannibal would really like her. Just anything with a theremin in it. Thank u so much and I love your writing<3
Thank you so much, darling. Your prompt was so lovely and elegant, and how could I say no on this special day? (Unfortunately, this basically became, well, porn. Blame Will.)
Note: this ficlet falls somewhere after the Couperin Trilogy (http://archiveofourown.org/series/347315).
It sounded like a badly wounded animal. A howling, keening screech that tumbled down the halls and straight into Hannibal’s ear the moment he stepped through the door.
Immediately he thought of the dogs. Dropping his coat to the floor, he rushed through the house to the source of the painful noise.
Halfway to the living room, Clara bounded to greet him, Louis at her heels. Tongues lolling, eyes shining, perfectly fine.
The screeching had not abated.
It was too unearthly a sound to be human, but if not animal then what -
The pitch suddenly rose to an unmistakable (and flat) F sharp. Of course.
Tempering his heart, Hannibal changed course to the master bedroom. At the foot of the bed sat Will. Playing his theremin.
“I thought I told you,” Hannibal said wearily, “to stay away from my theremin.”
Will had a devilish glint his eye. “I couldn’t resist.” He widened his legs a little. “Can you?”
Hannibal took in the sight, Will’s milky skin and tousled hair, his emerald eyes, his delicate fingers. Fingers that were tearing an absolutely painful B flat from the air. Hannibal winced.
“Darling,” he said, “perhaps if I were deaf.”
Will pouted. It looked divine. “That’s rude.”
Toeing off his shoes, Hannibal made himself look as contritious as possible, trying to ignore the dreadful wailing. He focused on the curve of Will’s mouth and everything else began to bleed away.
“My apologies,” Hannibal said, stalking towards him like prey. Will licked his lips. Hannibal climbed to the bed and slid behind him, knees hugging Will’s thighs.
“I think perhaps a lesson is in order.”
One hand slinked down Will’s arm to grasp his elbow, the other along his left hand. Pressing his palm to the backs of Will’s fingers, Hannibal leant in.
“Like this,” he murmured.
His breath skirted across the back of Will’s neck, his nose brushing the thicket of curls. Under his hands, he felt Will grow flushed, his pulse skittering.
Hannibal’s hands moved with him, melted him, and Will was pliant, rapidly turning to goo beneath firm bewitching fingers.
“See?” Between them he began to pull actual music from the theremin, a slow, haunting melody. Each note sustained itself gracefully with the steady vibration of their joined hands. Will himself began to vibrate. Hannibal pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear, and bit.
“Do you hear our music, Will?”
Will nodded, boneless. “Mmhm.” His head fell back against Hannibal’s neck, eyes closed.
Manipulating and stroking the soft skin under his palms. Hannibal continued to play.
“If this was what you wanted,” Hannibal purred, “you need only have asked.”
Will turned his head to mouth a hot kiss over Hannibal’s throat. “After the harpsichord,” he said, “I thought I’d have better luck if I played dirty.”
Hannibal’s right hand dropped from Will’s elbow to grope his bare thigh.
“Oh,” he replied, “and how dirty are you?”
The music cut off with a warble as Will pulled their join left hands down, and lower. Lower still. He bore his head back with a groan as Hannibal closed his hand around warm, responsive flesh.
Teeth chasing across Will’s neck, sucking a kiss over his throbbing pulse, Hannibal growled.
“That’s not an answer, Will.”
Will swallowed thickly, Hannibal watched the delectable muscles of his throat, drawn taut and straining.
“Very,” Will breathed, and then, “kiss me.”
Hannibal obliged, claiming the soft lips beneath him with ruthless affection. Will made a beautiful sound that echoed between their mouths, absorbed and dissolved onto Hannibal’s tongue as it stroked against his.
His hand began to move, slickened by Will’s leaking arousal, urged by the clutching of Will’s fingers over his.
Will was panting into his mouth, wet and seeking, his kisses messy and desperate. Hannibal slid his free hand from Will’s thigh to the soft skin of his stomach, rising inexorably slowly, leaving brands from each fingertip in his wake. His hand came to rest at Will’s clavicle, fingers splayed and holding him tight. Will was shaking.
Tearing his mouth free, Hannibal pressed their cheeks together. His left hand quickened its pace, Will thrust into it, hard and trembling.
“Do you feel how I play you, Will?” Will bit his lip and arched back, writhing, his body on the verge of rapture. “I can pull any note from you I please.”
“Mm,” Hannibal said thoughtfully. He brushed a kiss over Will’s cheek. “G sharp. Let’s try for a C.” He twisted his wrist, slid his thumb just so and Will broke apart. He came with a sweet cry, hips bucking, eyes open and wild.
Hannibal kissed him through it, over his jaw, the corner of his mouth, the swell of his lower lip. He sucked at the damp flesh, biting softly as between them his hand began to slow.
Will collapsed into him, breath jagged as though he’d just run a marathon.
“Good lesson,” he slurred. Hannibal drew his arms around his waist, mindless of the mess, absently tracing patterns with his fingers.
Will made a face. “You’re making me dirty.”
“Yes,” Hannibal’s hand did not cease its lazy motion, “that was the idea.”
Quick and agile, Will flipped around in his arms and pushed Hannibal to the bed. In one sudden move he was straddling him.
“My turn,” Will said, eyes aflame. He leaned back, reaching behind with both hands. Hannibal held his breath. Will leaned back further, past his presumed goal and further still. Without looking, eyes still dark on Hannibal, he pulled a pure and perfect note from the theremin.
Hannibal’s mouth dropped open. Will just smiled.
“You asked for a C, didn’t you?”
He released the theremin and bent low, their mouths just barely touching.
“Now,” Will said, “let’s see how well I can play you.”
