Chapter Text
“What the fuck was that?”
Hannibal paused in closing the front door, a cardboard package in his hand and eyebrows raised. Will was clearly angry, arms crossed and glaring and face twitching, but he couldn’t figure out what the empath was bothered by.
“It’s… the new knife set I ordered from Italy?”
“Don’t act fucking coy. The delivery guy. You know, all damp with sweat and his big arms and those tight little shorts?” Will radiated contempt with every spat word, stalking closer until he had his arms bracketing the older man’s head against the door. “The one you were laughing with and eye-fucking?”
The package was the only thing separating their chests, and the younger pushed against it until it cut into Hannibal’s sternum.
“Will. I was not flirting, I was being friendly. You should try it someti–” he was interrupted by a hand snatching up his jaw, hard.
“Don’t. Stop playing with me, don’t fucking test me. I will burn this fucking house down if you keep lying to me. You were flirting.”
Hannibal swallowed with a tiny click. Will was fucking impossible to deal with when he got this way. The doctor was pretty… open-minded to extracurricular activities, as long as Will was still his – possessive, not jealous – but his husband… that was a different story.
“Okay, Will, yes, I was…” the hand tightened painfully against his jaw, “I was flirting – a little! – but it was strictly for fun, like friends do, like strangers; it meant nothing, it means nothing, I swear.” Hannibal’s voice softened. “I would never stray. I love you, and you only.”
Will regarded him intensely for a moment, then shoved himself off the door to stomp away, muttering. Hannibal caught the words “I’ll fucking show you” but little else.
Well, this should be interesting. Hopefully entertaining, but at the least, interesting. He wondered what his little mongoose would plan in retribution. He did hope the condominium would survive it, though.
He had worked really hard on getting the decor just so.
~~~~~
Will stared down at his phone, the GPS of the truck blinking innocently at him, then snapped the phone facedown on the end table and strode out the front door. They were three stops away on the tracking app.
He pulled at the too-tight white cotton shirt and mid-thigh jean shorts he was wearing to adjust, tugged on his worn leather work gloves and knelt down in their herb garden out front. It was hot out, mid-August San Francisco heat wibbling the air over the roads and causing an almost immediate film of sweat to form on the skin, clothing to stick, hair to dampen at the scalp.
This was all planned. The perfect amount of time outside, to get this white shirt all wet and clingy, to add the perfect dewy moisture to the skin and face. He knew exactly how good he looked while working in the yard, because he frequently saw the beady-eyed leering from his husband.
By the time the delivery truck pulled up, he was one Wet Ass Profiler, toiling ass-up in the dirt and humming Lynryd Skynyrd nonchalantly to himself. He heard the soft footfalls of sneakers, then a shadow looming over him.
The shadow cleared his throat. “Hey, Mr… Keebler?”
Will sat back on his haunches and wiped the sweat off his brow with a little sigh, before squinting through the sun, up at the man before him, right at blowjob height but standing respectfully five feet away. He was tall, and fit, and if Will was honest with himself, he could see why someone would want to flirt with him.
The tight outfit fit him just right, and the glisten of a hard day’s work on his skin made his clothing cling just like Will’s currently was. He had messily styled, short dark hair and gorgeous hazel eyes and a face that screamed deviance.
The name ‘Matthew Brown’ was embroidered into the brown shirt under the UPS logo.
“Yeah, no relation.”
The man smirked, rubbing at his jaw. “No relation to the… the elves?”
Will put on his most dazzling smile, blue eyes sparkling as he chuckled softly. “Yeah. Do I look like an elf to you?”
The UPS guy’s smirk turned even more devious, if that was possible for a man who seemed to probably always look a little shit-eating. “Well, they do say elves are beautiful creatures, and you…” He gestured up and down Will’s form with the hand not holding the package. “You are stunning.”
Fuck, man. The guy was smooth. No wonder Hannibal was caught up flirting - it was this guy’s fucking fault. But he was not one to give up on one of his plans for petty vengeance, so the show must go on.
Will stood slowly, pulling his gloves off to grab the hem of his thin, sweat-damp shirt. He casually pulled it up to wipe his face with it, revealing a toned, tan stomach and a trail of hair down his stomach into shorts sitting low on his hip bones. He could see Matt staring pretty blatantly at the v of his abdominal muscles disappearing under the waistband. Will stared back, his eyes trailing up and down.
This delivery guy really did look good.
He was going to enjoy this.
“Soooo…” Will looked up from under his lashes, nibbling at his bottom lip as he let his hand travel down his torso to hook his thumb into the waist of his shorts, pulling them down just enough to reveal that there was no underwear in sight. His voice dropped an octave and went all gritty. “Do you have a package for me, Matthew?”
Matthew whistled lowly and clicked his tongue. “Pretty sure your husband has one for you–” he double-checked the shipping label, “William.”
“It’s just Will. And come on. You’ve seen him. He’s old.”
“Something tells me he could still get the job done.” Matt shrugged and held out the medium-sized box, light enough to wield one-handed.
Will scoffed. “I need a man who can handle me. You look like you can… handle a package. Ship it… overnight.” He grabbed Matt by the forearm to pull him closer, before slowly taking the box, his fingers caressing the pulse point of the other man. “Say, when’s your lunch break?”
“Now.” Matthew swallowed roughly. “It can be now.”
Will gave another dazzling smile, then tugged him towards the front door. “Good, that’s what I like to hear.”
Soon, they were in the study, the air conditioning pricking goosebumps on their salty skin. Neither wasted much time. As soon as they had spent their obligatory 4-5 minutes sipping ice water and cooling off while making awkward small talk about the heat, Will grabbed Matt by the back of his neck and yanked him in for a kiss, and the sexual surface tension broke.
Immediately, the kiss was hungry, biting, wet, and Matt was pulling the empath closer by the hip, sliding his hand up under the shirt to his waist. Will’s hand was toying with the third button of the other’s shirt, the first two already undone, revealing a beautiful triangle of hairless, smooth skin; he slid his hand under the fabric to grip at his pec. The delivery man broke the kiss to pant for a moment, nuzzling along Will’s stubbled jaw to kiss at his ear.
“When’s your husband home?” Matt asked, at the same time Will asked “When’s your break over?” then they each responded with “Probably soon” and “I don’t care” and both laughed.
The older but still very young and sexy Will directed them backwards to Hannibal’s desk and he hopped up on it to wrap his legs around the younger young and sexy Matthew. He tightened to pull his hips flush, arching his back so their chests and stomachs were pressed just as tightly together. He glanced at the clock behind Matthew as he ground his hips forward and brought their lips together again with a soft groan.
Matt buried his hand in soft curls and pulled, and when Will only moaned louder, he chuckled in response. “Do you like a firm hand, then? No fragile packages to handle with care?” He yanked at the hair in his fist.
“Fuck – yes, I do – I do like it.”
Will had been committed to doing whatever he must to win his petty battle, but he had not counted on the physical chemistry being so off the charts. The very air between them was charged from their first kiss. He didn’t know how he had never actually noticed this guy before, when he’d been seeing him for most of the entire time they’d been on the California stop of their FBI’s Most Wanted World Tour.
Matt slid his hands up the back of the empath’s shirt, along the firm muscles until he could pull the shirt off over his head, returning to drag his thumb in circles around one pebbled nipple. Will stuttered out a breath and grabbed Matt by his shirt to pull him into another desperate kiss, fumbling to undo the buttons on the uniform and tug it untucked so he could get his hands on as much of those delicious abs and pectorals as possible.
With a quick adjustment, he pulled Will’s thighs tighter and ass towards the edge of the desk to get their cocks to line up, and Will clung as they both moaned into the other’s mouth.
“Do you like that, baby?” Matt purred against the younger man’s mouth. “You want this cock?”
“Please, Daddy–” Will sucked in a breath and froze, pulling back to assess the reaction. That wasn’t exactly planned, as normally Hannibal (or Hans Keebler, as the mailman would know him) was the only Daddy in Will’s life, but fuck, man – you see Daddy, you gotta say Daddy.
Matt laughed, bright and genuine, then grabbed a handful of curls again and gently shook the empath by the hold. “Oh, baby, Daddy is going to have so much fun with you.”
He broke free to ease Will off the desk and spin him around, to shove him face down over the mahogany. There were some papers, drawings, and moleskin notebooks pressed underneath him but nothing too uncomfortable, maybe a pen, but he didn’t care, because Matt was reaching around to unbutton his daisy dukes and yank them down to mid thigh. Will’s dick sprung up and lightly smacked the underside of the desk.
“You’ve been very naughty, Will Keebler.” He squeezed the firm, round ass in front of him with both hands, spreading to look at the tight little asshole being presented so nicely. “Seducing your mailman like this, behind your husband’s back. This was planned, wasn’t it? You wanted this from me today, baby?”
Will groaned. “Yeah, I… I planned it. I planned it, Daddy, I wanted you. I’ve been bad.”
“You have been a very bad boy. What am I supposed to do with you?” Will whimpered when he heard the belt buckle clinking, and the thwip of the belt being pulled free in one swift motion. When he heard Matt crack the folded belt between his hands, he outright moaned.
“Please spank me, that would – the belt – you’ll have to punish me, Daddy.”
Matthew readily agreed.
The first hit was easy, right across the swell of both cheeks, but the pace grew quickly, and steadily. Matt clearly knew what he was doing, and it was doing it for Will. He was feeling all warm and fuzzy, but he kept an eye on his watch now and then. They had a little more time.
Will’s ass was nicely warmed and pink, and Matt drug his blunt, short fingernails across the sensitive skin, scratching at it. “Alright, you’re warmed up. It’s time for the punishment. What do you say, ten?”
Will panted out a “Yes, Daddy,” and the first strike landed. He cried out and Matt said to count the blows, so he gasped out a “One” and clutched at the edge of the desk above his head, body tensing. It was not so hard he couldn’t take it, but he could already feel the skin swelling into a welt.
“Good boy.” Will could hear the shit-eating grin and then the second hit landed, in an X across the first. The third, fourth, and fifth were all across the same sweetspot on the bottom of the curve of the cheeks, escalating harshness until on his “Five” Will was near tears and making little dry sobbing noises.
The sixth landed higher again, and he choked out his number. Seven came without warning, a lighter hit but across the backs of his thighs just above the jeans, and he rocked forward and scrabbled at the desk trying to keep it together.
He was steadily drizzling precome, down his cock, rubbing up on the underside of the desk, dripping down over his balls in a valiant effort to reach the floor.
Eight was back up at the center, much harder, the skin bubbling up immediately into a bright, hot welt, the blood rushing to the surface. His whole ass was stinging so badly, it felt like it was basically one giant mark. Tears broke free to mar Hannibal’s drawing of Will on the desk.
Nine hit the lower region again, and he struggled with it the hardest yet. He couldn’t talk for a moment, only cry for about thirty seconds before he whimpered the number. Immediately, the tenth hit the same spot, extremely hard. It didn’t break skin, but it was damn close, and Will couldn’t even manage to count it. Matt set the belt next to Will’s head so he could put two big, warm hands on the red-striped skin.
“That’s ten, Will, baby. Good boy.”
Will sobbed as Matt once again scratched hard on the tenderized flesh.
They had about ten, fifteen minutes. As much as he was enjoying this, thoroughly, he needed to double down.
“Daddy, ple–” his breath hitched, “Please finger me, please fuck me.”
“Lube?”
“Here–” Will sniffed and scrambled to grab a hidden travel bottle from one of the desk drawers, then flopped himself back over the desk, adjusting and pointedly wiggling his red ass at the other man.
“You’re such a tease, baby. That’s why I’ve been watching you. Did you know I kept this route because I like to see you?”
Will looked back over his shoulder, smiling. “Have you thought about doing this?”
“Oh, I’ve thought about so many things.”
Arching his back and shifting his legs as wide as the shorts would allow, the empath whined “I want you to show me. Oh – I have –” Will perched up on his elbows, reaching to the side to grab the package set carelessly on the edge of the desk. He held it out behind him, waggling it with small clunky thuds coming from inside. “I did buy this… for today, for this.”
He propped himself up, jaw on fist, and watched Matt tear open the tape to reveal a thick, curved, and tapered silicone plug, blue with white swirls, attached to a long fluffy tabby-cat tail. He grinned and pulled out the next item, matching cat ears on a headband with a white lace edging and tiny gold bells. He tossed the ears at Will, who snatched them and fumbled to put them on, blushing slightly pink in a way that even he would have admitted was charming.
He sprawled over the desk again, shimmying out of the jean shorts to fully present himself as he looked back at the other man idly palming at his dick through his brown work shorts.
Matt started with his fingers, slow circles to ease the muscle into relaxation before dipping one tip inside. He kept fucking dragging his nails across the reddened flesh of Will’s cheeks with his other hand, and Will was melting into the touches, moaning and trying to both pull the intruding finger in further and get friction on his aching dick, twitching out more beads of precome from the new stimulation.
As the finger bottomed out inside, he wasted no time in twitching it up and locating the prostate, alternating pressing taps and slow circles. Will was panting with it within thirty seconds, and then Matt was pulling out to replace it with two fingers and Will was grasping at the desk edge again, whining and wrinkling papers as he writhed on the surface in response to the burning stretch, the bells on his kitty ears tinkling softly.
“God, you’re gonna be such a pretty little kitten for Daddy, aren’t you? You’re dripping precome on the floor, baby boy.”
And he was, touching his prostate always had that effect – absolutely drenching himself. He had nothing on Hannibal/Hans, the man’s glands being nearly as overactive as Will’s imagination, but he was quite… wet, in his own right. He moaned and rocked against the fingers in him, pressing them up to grind against his insides just right, and stuttered out a curse. Matt held still, letting the empath fuck himself on his hand for a moment, before pulling back to add more lube and slide a third finger inside.
Will’s hips jerked as more fluid drizzled out, hanging in a thick line towards the floor. Fuck, Will thought frantically, I really hope I come in time. As he moved to grab at his dick and start stroking himself, a cracking slap rung out as a large, warm palm connected with the still-tender flesh of his asscheek.
“Don’t. You’re not coming just yet.” Will groaned but nodded, crinkling the sweat- and tear-stained drawing of himself he was quite effectively ruining. The delivery driver pulled his fingers free with a – frankly obscene – sound and moved to lubricate the plug. It was curved just perfectly for the tip to caress and press against the part that needed it most.
Matt twisted the tapered end against the flutter of muscles and gently, firmly pushed until the end popped inside, and further, until a third of the way in the stretch started up again and Will flexed around it, breathing heavily and pushing back against it. The man pulled back, and eased in again, slowly fucking it deeper with each thrust, until it was at the thickest point and Will was in tears again from not being able to relieve the pressure of his need.
He whimpered brokenly as the plug finally slid into place against his prostate, his ass clenched reflexively around the flare, the fur tickling his sensitive cheeks and thighs and wagging between his legs as he shifted, which only made the plug shift inside him and he let out another little groan.
“God, you’re so fucking desperate.” Matt clapped both hands hard on either cheek and Will cried out in surprise more than the pain. “You were desperate for me before I got here, ordering this whole skanky getup.” Smack. “You’re even more desperate now.” Smack. “You’re desperate to come.” Smack. “You’re desperate for my cock too, ain’t you baby?” Smack.
Will moaned out “Yes, please, Daddy.” His ass was lit up now, fire-red and hot to the touch, with dark crimson welts striping it. After every hit, he wiggled, and the plug wiggled inside, and his cock twitched and he moaned and made little sobbing gasps, and the bells on his ears tinkled sweetly.
After a few more hits, Will had fully sunk into subspace, but he noted about 3 minutes left, before his body went fully lax and pliant on the wooden surface. He mumbled a steady stream of babbling curses under his breath, eyes glazed over and distant.
Matt appeared in front of his hazy vision, squatting down to grab him firmly by the hair on the back of his head and tug him sideways to shove his tongue inside the empath’s mouth, thoroughly exploring, as his free hand moved to push the plug up against his sweet spot, rotating and pulsing it until Will was fully a mess, and the stream of cursing broke into a stream of ‘please.’
“Can you come without being touched, kitten?” Matt purred.
“Fuck, yes, Daddy I’m so close, please, I’ve been close, I need to–”
Matt yanked hard on his hair and ground the plug against him. “Come for me, Will.”
Will cried out, one single high-pitched squeaking whine, then the first burst of release hit the underside of the table audibly, before spattering down onto the rug. He gripped Matt’s forearm with an iron hold, digging in as his body was wracked with the spasms that only a quality orgasm can provide.
Halfway through, Matt was kissing his face, all over, praising him for how good and beautiful and hot and lovely and perfect he was, and all Will could do was succumb to the pleasure and praise and the encroaching fog.
The younger man pulled back to use both his hands to fervently unbutton and unzip his fly, and he stood and whipped out his cock in quick succession.
The image made Will’s mouth water. Matt was looming over him, sweaty and flushed with exertion and arousal. His shirt was open and hanging down off his shoulders, unzipped shorts framing the swell of his cock.
And god, it was a nice cock, too. About as long as Hannibal/Hans was, maybe 7 or 8 inches – not quite as thick, but honestly, the hanniconda was tough to take at times so it was a bit of a relief to not have to try to unhinge his jaw to choke on this guy’s dick. He was circumsized, another variation from Will’s normal, and he was also a solid twenty years younger than the good doctor.
And he was fucking rock hard, and staring darkly at the profiler practically drooling while ogling him as he lightly stroked up and down his cock.
Will fumbled to reach out and grab the man by the dick-framing crotch of the shorts and pull him closer, so he could wrap his lips around the head and lap at the (much less copiously, but still wet with deliciously bitter saltiness) slit with a soft moan.
Matthew grabbed the sides of Will’s jaw, thumbs coming up to caress the lace of the headband, and used his newfound leverage to hold Will in place and start thoroughly face-fucking him.
It didn’t seem like it was going to take him long with how worked up he was, how fucking hard, and he probably still wanted to fuck Will too. But before Will could find out where Matthew Brown was planning on coming that day, a soft clearing of the throat startled them both out of their reverie.
“I do apologize; am I interrupting?”
The delivery guy froze momentarily, then launched himself backwards at mach speed. He scrambled to tuck his stubbornly erect and throbbing cock back into his underwear, then waved his hands, trying to look appeasing.
“Fuck! Fuckshit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry sir, Mr – Keebler – I presume – oh, shit, I –”
Will spoke dryly. “Hello, Hans. Yes, you are interrupting.” He sighed and began drumming his fingers on the table. Matt spun to point at him.
“THIS was your plan?! I knew you were scheming but I thought you just wanted a dose of young hunk dick!”
Will snorted. “Well, he is old.”
Hannibal’s lip twitched. “I can still handle you, you little brat.”
“Then why did I have to find another Daddy to handle my package, Daddy?”
Matt was slowly backing towards the doorway, and Hannibal reached out and grasped him by the undone collar of his shirt to prevent his getaway.
“You. Stay.” Hannibal/Hans turned back to Will. “You found another ‘Daddy’ because you are an unrepentant fucking slut and you are greedy on top of it. Impulsive, reckless, and deceitful.”
Back to Matthew. “And you knew he was taken, and you were willing to go behind my back anyways to claim what is mine.” He practically growled. “What is to be done about any of this?”
“Seems like…” Matt licked his lips, a shit-eating grin – somehow only moderately nervous – once again pulling over his features. “Like maybe we should work together to teach him a lesson about taking advantage of us.”
Hannibal froze, squinting at the other, looking him up and down, focusing especially on the outline of his cock, still hard as fuck in his boxers, then gave a tiny, nearly imperceptible, feline grin.
“Perhaps we should, Mr…?”
“Brown. Matthew Brown.” He gestured at his disheveled work shirt where it was embroidered in gold thread.
“Right. I suppose, though, that for today, you will simply be the other Daddy.”
Hannibal grinned, all violence and teeth, and stalked forward, dragging Matthew to stumble behind him by the grip on his shirt.
“What do you say, my terrible, greedy, brat of a boy?”
Will giggled and blushed, and tossed his head to make the kitten bells tinkle. “Yes, Daddies.”