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“Fuck, you feel good…” Will keens, arching his back in a desperate attempt to take his grandfather in deeper, his thick cock grazing over Will’s prostate with nearly every inward thrust. “Wanna ride you, though,” he begs, looking back over his shoulder where Hannibal kneels over him like some wild animal, salt and pepper hair loose and falling into his face from the exertion. He’s so fit he’s barely broken a sweat, and that only makes Will’s stomach clench violently in more arousal.
“Such language. Naughty child.” Hannibal traces his thumb around the space where Will’s hole is wrapped around him, burying himself entirely in Will and groaning when Will tightens around him purposefully. Will huffs a laugh, a retort on the tip of his tongue - the very same tongue which had been wrapped around his grandfather’s cock mere minutes ago.
“I’m an adult.” The quip turns into a moan as Hannibal pulls out of him, leaving him feeling momentarily hollowed out and bereft.
“In the eyes of the law, perhaps. But you’ll always be my grandson. Whatever happened to that sweet, little boy that used to sit on his grandfather’s lap without thinking about riding it?” Even as the words leave his lips Hannibal is arranging himself so he’s on his back, shoulders propped up by the pillows at the head of the bed. His arm is slung so casually above his head it gives Will pause as he looks down at him hungrily, rising to his knees.
Will huffs out a breath of laughter. “He’s been gone longer than you know.” Will straddles his grandpa’s thighs, crawling on his knees until his ass is rubbing against Hannibal’s wet cock. He mewls when the other man grabs him by the hips and grinds him down against him, the head brushing past Will’s hole, driving him nearly mad with desire. He needs to feel his grandfather inside of him again, wants to be so full he bursts with it.
He wraps a hand around Hannibal’s cock and guides it to his rim with one hand, using his other hand to help spread his cheeks apart while Hannibal keeps him held steady with the hands still bruisingly hard against his hips. He can feel Hannibal’s fingers skim up his sides, slotting into the spaces between his ribs as his palm soothes over where Will’s lungs heave.
“Easy, darling,” Grandpa murmurs at the sharp exhale Will releases as he sinks down hastily, a low moan punched from his already breathless chest when his body settles atop the older man’s thighs. “Such a greedy thing today. What’s gotten into you, my love?”
Will sighs as he adjusts to being speared open once more, allowing his body to go lax bit by bit as he idly pets through the thick pelt of hair that spans his grandpa’s chest. “School was mind-numbingly dull,” he complains, his voice hitching slightly as he gives his hips an experimental rock and pleasure shocks through his limbs as his prostate is teased once more.
“And I’ve been harangued into dinner with dad and the Swenson’s again, which promises to be equally tedious. I need a distraction. Just one good thing today…” he trails off with another soft sigh as he begins rocking in earnest, fingers spasming to clutch at the hair they’ve weaved themselves through every couple seconds when that deep, blinding pleasure barrels through him again and again.
“A distraction,” Hannibal muses in a murmur as his hands continue gliding up and over Will’s torso, mapping out every inch as though he hasn’t memorized it thoroughly enough over the last two years. “Is that why you’re being so impatient, sweet boy? You simply wish to cling to this afternoon, so that with every movement your aching, underprepared, thoroughly used body can remind you that mere hours before you had your grandfather’s thick cock splitting you open so perfectly.”
Will whimpers at the entirely justified accusation, nodding his head fervently while his teeth clamp down on his lip and his hips begin to roll more frantically.
“If that’s what you were after, you should have allowed me to pin you down, fuck into you so fast and rough you wouldn’t be able to catch your breath, let alone be able to ask me to stop.”
Will’s fingers curl even further at the imagery, his nails scraping down his grandpa’s chest as he screws his eyes shut and begs his mind to show him just that behind closed lids while he fucks himself even more fiercely on Hannibal’s cock. “Don’t stop,” he manages to grunt out as the fantasy unfolds in his mind. He’d let his grandpa fuck him to tears, allow him any and all debauched uses for his body, just to make his patriarch happy. “Please never stop.”
“Well, if you’re adamant about being on top, I must insist on seeking you deeper.”
It’s all the warning Will receives before his grandpa is shifting beneath him, pushing himself to sitting fluidly and effortlessly and pulling Will more firmly into his lap. The action does exactly as intended, the fat cock inside him somehow sinking impossibly deeper, until Will feels as though every roll of Hannibal’s hips upward is literally fucking the very breath from his lungs. All he can do is cry out weakly and cling to his grandpa’s broad shoulders, his legs wrapping instinctively around the older man’s waist as he holds on for dear life.
It seems as though Hannibal is determined to set the pace as well, now that he has Will in such a compromising position. His hips piston up into Will with a force and speed that shouldn’t even be possible with the way he’s sitting. Will gasps for breath and allows Hannibal to fuck every moan from his chest, nails digging in and clawing his pleasure into his grandpa’s back and arms. A slight jostle and his body is shifted just so, and then every jerking thrust into him batters Will’s already overwhelmed prostate. Will digs his teeth into his grandpa’s shoulder, clamping down around the sob that’s nearly forced from him.
One hand continues to grip Will’s hip, holding him in place as his very life is fucked from him, while the other snakes up to twist in Will’s hair, tightening just enough to be firm but not painful, insistent in pulling Will’s head back so that his grandpa might look him in the eyes.
“None of that,” he scolds, and his voice is thick and rough with desire, nearly breathless in his ardor. “I’ll hear every ounce of your pleasure or deny you a single drop.”
Will whines, both at the implication and also to feel how his grandpa holds him even tighter when he hears it. If Hannibal’s going to play dirty, his grandson can play dirty right back. He manages to shake Hannibal’s grip enough that he can lean back, using his palms on his grandpa’s flexing upper thighs to hold himself steady as he bounces frantically on his lap. His cock is so thick where it fills him deeply, pulsing hard enough Will can feel it twitch against his stretched rim.
He wants his grandfather to come inside him, to stain him and cool the burning flames he’s stoked within Will at the rough treatment and the good dicking. Hannibal’s always known exactly what Will needs, their bodies perfectly intune.
“More, please, grandpa -” Will gasps and Hannibal growls, a wild, feral sound. He loves knowing he’s driven his prim and proper grandfather to such animalistic lengths, and he smirks down at the man beneath him, driving his hips down onto his cock over and over again until he’s absolutely certain he’ll have bruises tomorrow in the shapes of Hannibal’s fingertips.
“You’re an insatiable, slutty thing.” Will’s cock bounces against his lower abdomen, spreading his pre-come across his flushed skin and catching the gaze of his grandfather.
“And you love it,” Will laughs, and Hannibal’s eyes flash dangerously dark, a flash of his teeth the only warning Will has before he’s being flipped over again, stomach pressed so tightly to the mattress that he can’t even grind his cock against the sheets for some relief. Hannibal pounds into him, hard and fast and sloppy. Will feels like a whore, he feels immeasurably loved. He feels like he’s going to come immediately if Hannibal hits his prostate head on one more time.
“Just like that, just like that,” he keens on repeat, hardly able to force his lungs to rise and fall as Hannibal fucks him breathless over and over again. “Come in me, grandpa, please -”
His grandfather puts his teeth to the nape of Will’s neck but doesn’t bite down, not enough to break skin. Their one rule is no marks. No visible bruises means nothing for Will to awkwardly explain to his parents every time he comes back from visiting grandpa.
Hannibal gives him exactly what he’s begged for, thrusting in several more times before his hips still completely and Will can feel his cock throb against his sore rim, knows he’s spilling deep inside him, painting his walls with his release. He pulls out prematurely, much to Will’s surprise - his grandpa usually likes to fill Will as deeply as possible. But he can feel his hole trying to clench around nothing, aching with the absence of his lover’s thick cock, and the residual weak spurts that fall warm and wet over his rim, dripping sluggishly down his balls, still drawn tight with his imminent release and now aching with having been denied it.
Will’s frustrated groan tapers off into a breathless whine as Hannibal’s cock is replaced with his much thinner fingers, idly rubbing through the mess around his hole and dipping in now and then just enough to tease him with the sensation of fullness once more.
“Look at you,” his grandpa murmurs, voice still rough and thick with his recent orgasm. “So spread for me still, begging to be filled. You couldn’t tighten if you wanted to, could you?” At the question, Will tries, in vain, to clench up around his grandpa’s dancing digits. A soft chuckle ensures him that he’s failed miserably. “Still seeking something more,” he notes, his softs words broken by the obscene squelch of his fingers pushing his leaking seed back into Will’s gaping hole. “Almost as though you were perfectly tailored for me.”
His lungs had calmed their heaving at the abrupt end of their fucking, though something still sits coiled tightly in his chest, burning at the base of his ribcage, just waiting to snap. His cock aches he’s so hard, but though he’s no longer pinned so thoroughly in place, Will resists the urge to grind down into the soft sheets below him, unwilling to seek his pleasure before his grandpa grants it to him.
Hannibal seems to have no more pretty, teasing words for Will, and Will’s heart hammers in the silence, blood pounding in his ears as he waits for what’s next. His grandpa loves to tease him, but he would never see him unfulfilled. The sound of the polished man behind him spitting is lewd and unexpected, and Will’s dick twitches in surprised pleasure as the glob of saliva hits home and wets his rim all over again, slides into the chasm Hannibal has left behind.
It’s followed swiftly by his grandpa’s hot breath, and then his tongue is plunging into him, and Will can only keen and bury his face in the pillows beneath him, body tensing and toes curling at the sensation of his grandpa’s tongue spearing and twisting inside him as far as it can reach.
Broad, strong palms caress his cheeks softly before squeezing and pulling them apart, exposing Will even further, and Will sobs at the low moan that rumbles from his grandpa’s chest when the action only allows him more access. He claws at the sheets as Hannibal’s clever tongue draws him ever closer to his looming orgasm, his pointed attention making it clear to Will that he’s expected to come only from the stimulation that’s being granted to him.
“Grandpa, grandpa,” he chants on a weak moan as he writhes beneath him. He’s close enough to the edge that his end in this way won’t be a challenge, but he plugs toward the finish line with the resolute exhaustion of one crossing the last few dozen feet of an intensive marathon. “Please make me come, grandpa…”
Another low growl against his rim, reverberating inside him as Hannibal’s tongue doubles its efforts, and then one hand slides from its position on the swell of Will’s ass, glides down to stroke feather-soft across his perineum and down his clenching balls. And then Will is coming, body spasming and singing with its release as Will chokes on his pleasure and gasps for air, quivering from overstimulation as his grandpa’s tongue continues its assault, his fingers petting more firmly over Will’s sore sack.
He’s there and then he’s not, a startled yelp pulled from Will when his grandpa seizes his calves and tugs him forcefully down the bed. The mess he’d just pulsed into the sheets below him smears up his chest, and then dirties his back when Will is forcibly turned over to face the older man.
For all his grandpa’s generally reserved nature, his placid calm and near-irritating control, the man goes positively feral when he pulls pleasure from his grandson. Will’s still attempting to catch his breath when one of those strong, broad palms tangles in his curls and beckons his head higher, and then Hannibal is stealing what little air he’s found, unheedful of the mess on Will’s torso as he presses down into the length of him. His tongue, when it invades the welcoming cavern of Will’s mouth, is thickly coated in the bitter, musky release that he’d first spent into Will and then cleaned him of, and Will welcomes it with a ragged moan, his body arching up into the man above him as though he’s still seeking his touch, the release from which his body is still vibrating.
“You are temptation incarnate,” Hannibal chastises in a rough breath between kisses, his hands leaving the tangle of Will’s sweaty curls to meander down his neck, down his heaving ribs and quivering stomach.
“The sun beckoning me higher, only to melt my wings.” He rolls his body against Will’s although the both of them have momentarily reached the height of their passions; their spent cocks rub together regardless, sending jolts of shockwaves up through Will’s sensitive sex to curl pleasantly in his belly. “The fruit of the tree that lifts higher every time I reach for it.”
“But you have me,” Will breathes before licking filthily into his grandpa’s mouth once more, chasing the taste of release that has been diluted by the saliva between them. “You can have your taste. I let you every time.”
Eventually, Hannibal’s body stills above his own, his face pulling back just enough to peer down at Will, utter adoration shining in his eyes as his hand reaches up to stroke tenderly at his cheek. “A taste will never be enough. I wonder sometimes if a part of me wishes to merely devour you instead, to take you into me and keep you with me always. A larger part understands that you’ve already devoured me in turn.”
“What’s it matter, then?” Will asks lazily, pushing on his grandpa’s chest half-heartedly until the older man gets the message and shifts them onto their sides, Will safe in the warm cradle of his arms. “If I’ve already devoured you, then we’ll always be together regardless.”
“Cheeky boy,” his grandpa rumbles, but it’s more fond than anything, and Will allows a smile to curve across his face as his heavy eyes drift shut, content to bask in the warm bliss of finding physical release with his grandpa and feeling so very held and cared for afterwards.
“Don’t fall asleep, Will. You still have dinner to get to.”
Will gives a hum of acknowledgement to that, but snuggles closer still to his grandpa’s warm body in response.
“I’ve finalized the plans for your graduation gift. Approved them with your parents.”
That statement intrigues Will enough to peel open one heavy eye to peer at Hannibal, beckoning him to continue.
“You and I will be spending the summer in Europe. Two months of museums, cathedrals, cafes…”
Will’s heart soars at the prospect, suddenly wide awake and pushing himself up to his elbows to better speak to his grandpa. “We can walk together in the daytime, have intimate dinners, and no one will know who we are.” The thought leaves him breathless and aching, imagining them drawing attention for no reason more taboo than their obvious age difference. No one the wiser of their connection to one another.
Hannibal nods his agreement with a small smile. “And every night, you in my bed, curled against me in sleep.”
Will’s eyebrow quirks at that, his lips twisting into a challenging smirk.
“We will have to sleep occasionally. Insatiable boy.”
Will settles back against Hannibal with his mouth still upturned in joy; warm, and safe, and secure, Hannibal presses sweet kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his chin. He drifts for a little while, allowing himself a few, blissful stolen moments before he must leave daydreaming of intimate candlelit dinners by the water, warm, freshly baked pastries, and the taste of his grandfather’s lips so soft and sure against his own.
He laments, not for the first time that day but for entirely different reasons, that graduation can’t come soon enough.