The Smoke [Hannigram]

Chapter 12. Love Is A Wordless Sentence

Do you remember your coming down?
Forced to take sides
Your taunted charm and your broken smile
Touched me unexpectedly
So long, so long you've waited in line
Desire is a gift in life
So long, so long you've left and arrived
It's time for you to stay a while

If you chose life, you know what to fear is like
If you welcome addiction, this is your kingdom

Your fight for power, for memories
Answers and signs
Will bring you through the dark to light
Clear and redefine

Hard angles of muscles and soft lines of pale skin, silently missing the golden evidence of sunlight washing over, had filled Hannibal's world, soon narrowing it down to the unwavering depth of blue waters, piercing through his skull with a genuine intention of cleansing, its embrace tight and purposeful.

Am I being baptised by the kindred spirit, the holy light stepping in, seeping through me, Will?

As Will toppled forward, his hands locked on either side of his lover's head, Hannibal let out a faint sigh, wild hunger and stirred aching slipping into his insides, into his being, nagging and gnawing at him. He swallowed hard, chest rising and falling fast when he felt a wet, cooling sensation near his perineum, then at his entrance. A slick finger poked in, stretching him. It wasn't long before his body welcomed two more fingers, and Hannibal could smell the very distinct need radiating from Will as the man continued the circular, swirling movements encrusted with silver tenderness of the moon, rocking and cradling the ocean waves; suffused with a teasing craving for curious exploration. Eager fingers searched through Hannibal ponderously, a bit rigid, not hurried, though. Every nerve in the man's body tensed, holding a huge quantity of data, floating into and out of his brain with the speed of light—the road to ultimate pleasure stretched behind the screen of his mind as the rocking motion continued. Hannibal saw bright colours when his eyes rolled into his head, mouth giving out a small, pitiful proof of joy and pain alike. His raspy voice was a testament of the worst longing, and his face broken in sweat showed fearful anticipation for a rare incision to come, yet filled with the quiet hope that he would be brought back from the split and gathered together to be whole again in the aftermath. Hannibal opened his eyes to see the lithe beauty revealed in front of him.

"God, don't look at me like that." A startled whisper cut the air in a swing of invisible wings.

"How, W-will?"

"You know how." Like I'm a piece of art, worthy of your admiration.

Hannibal cried out in a weak voice when the pleasurable tension finally hit his prostate, strong pressure building up as if wires were inserted into his bones, causing an electrical fire. Unyielding fingers caressed the tight rings of muscles with each stroke; reassuring, intimate, helpful. Will smiled at the noise, the mere sight of the other man lost in complete bliss, out of control, captured in the prison of kind touches, took his breath away.

A soft, defenceless form that I can mould with my hands, Will thought, a sense of power and pride taking hold of him as his thought lingered, A cold-blooded, feral creature clothed with a thick cloud of smoke, now under my touch, under my care, only mine to pet...

Will leaned into a kiss and claimed what was righteously his to take. A hot breath shared, wet tongues encircled around each other. The little dance they did was a healing method of easing the pain, lessening the agony of lonely skin, forever trapped in its shell. One mouth stroked the other mouth in a gesture of solidarity; a mute and shy answer, all-telling I know to each unspoken, perhaps unspeakable, message sent between flesh. Soon Hannibal found little red droplets on his lips, sweet crimson under his tongue after the softness had left his mouth, embrace broken.