Fear and self-loathing drove him there as much as kept him away from real human contact. Will Graham's infrequent visits to The Vault were a balm to a frustrated body that couldn't separate itself from his overcrowded mind. The only time such a separation could be achieved was in the blind recesses found in the dark rooms of The Vault. And after his encounter with Dr Hannibal Lecter earlier that day under the watchful and curious gaze of Jack Crawford, he'd never needed that separation and release more.

Hannibal didn't have to wait long outside the Academy at Quantico until he saw Will's car pull away from the building. He could tell from the direction of travel that he wasn't immediately heading home to Wolf Trap. No time like the present to delve into the mind of this intriguing individual, Hannibal considered. He started his car and pulled out, following him at a safe distance.

Parking his car a few blocks from the venue, Will made his way along semi-crowded pavements with a singular purpose towards his destination. Hannibal walked on the opposite side of the street, some yards behind him, keeping him in his peripheral vision. He watched Will disappear around the corner of a fairly inconspicuous building and smiled to himself. While Hannibal had never himself become acquainted with the venue, he knew about the reputation of The Vault from a few of his patients. Well, well, Mr Graham, he thought to himself. Hannibal hadn't planned on an intimate interlude quite so soon in their relationship but such an opportunity was far too delectable to pass over. With that thought and a singular purpose of his own, Hannibal followed.

The tension in his body lifted as soon as he entered the room. A different kind of darkness, in its physicality, as opposed to the usual dark he wandered whilst invading the minds of killers and psychopaths. He allowed it to wrap him up in its warm, relaxed embrace. Here he could lose himself. Here, he was fearless. Here, he could give himself over to his own senses without suffering an invasion of the same from others. Touch was the purpose, the goal, escape. Anonymous, simple, no-strings-attached intimacy. He sighed to himself as he felt a pair of strong, warm, long-fingered hands gently come to rest on his waist…

His scent was unmistakeable, as distinct and unique as the mind of the man himself. It took Hannibal only a few minutes to identify his prey amongst the other wanton bodies scattered throughout the sweaty, sex-infused air. The trail of the aroma led him to a quiet corner of the room. Hannibal was feeling somewhat heady with anticipation but kept his enthusiasm in check, reaching forward when he sensed a sharp increase in the concentration of Will's scent. His hand found the empath's waist and slipped down a couple of inches to rest on his hip as the other hand slid gently around to rest on his navel before drawing himself forward to rest a chin on his shoulder. He heard a relaxed sigh before he allowed himself to inhale at his neck deeply, forced to swallow the rush of saliva that invaded his mouth in response to the stimulus of his intoxicating aroma. Dropping his tone to a low, husky timbre in case Will recognised his voice, he made a simple offer.

"Anything you want. All you have to do is ask…"

Will honed in on the voice behind him, zoning out the grunts, soft moans and sounds of slick, sweaty movements of skin-against-skin around them. The statement had momentarily caught him off-guard. Never had he entered these rooms and been propositioned in such a way. As with most circumstances in his life, work, acquaintances, even the dependency which he felt from his canine pack, usually, the situation was all about take from, not give to him. Unusually, for the first time, Will found himself in a position of power, however fleeting that power may be under these circumstances, he felt oddly gratified at being afforded the privilege. An unfamiliar warmth pooled beneath his navel in response to the words. Despite being caught a little off-guard, he felt safe in the anonymity provided by the dense, impenetrable darkness. Raw honesty came easily when one wasn't burdened with the knowledge of identity.

I don't know him and he doesn't know me. I can just be, Will thought to himself.

"No one has ever said those words to me before," Will said softly as he raised a hand to rest on the one on his stomach belonging to the stranger.

"Really?" the word danced in a gently-whispered breath against the skin beneath which Will's jugular calmly pulsed. "I find such behaviour incredibly rude and intolerable." Hannibal took a small step back and placed his hands on Will's shoulders, slowly running his fingertips down his shirt, his touch deliberately light across shoulder blades, index fingers tracing down either side of his spine, his thumbs coming to rest gently in the small of his back, fingers splayed again above his hips, barely, just barely, slipping into the narrow space between skin and the material of his waistband.

"Do you trust me?"

In the dark, Will felt himself frown before replying. "Trust is implicit in this situation. Were you to abuse it, everyone in the place would beat you to an unrecognisable pulp…"

Despite the hint of danger dancing on the end of the question, Will remained calm but intrigued. Normally, by this stage, his pants would be around his ankles and some sweaty, desperate no-face would be taking all he could, feasting on Will for his own gratification, sometimes leaving him a panting mess to bring himself to completion. Will made to turn towards the voice as Hannibal placed gentle but firm hands on his upper arms, effectively halting the motion.

"Then you have nothing to worry about."

Will heard the unmistakeable sound of a belt buckle being undone and the sound of it slide through silky material.

"I am going to hazard a guess that you do not know what you want," the voice remained low, steady and reassuring. Will felt his normally busy mind lull in response to its almost hypnotic sound.

"Perhaps I don't…"

Will wasn't sure what to expect, but knew he was safe in the Vault and the man wouldn't do anything to which he didn't freely consent. So, he didn't resist as the stranger took hold of his hands and drew them around behind his back, crossing his wrists before weaving the belt around them. Hannibal stepped up close behind Will again and reached around to finger the buttons of his shirt, plucking them undone slowly, baring his chest inch by inch to the warm, humid air as he spoke.

"Will you allow me to explore and perhaps shed some light on what it is you want? As you seem incapable of asking for yourself?"

Will was getting a little lost in the stranger's touch to register that the words coming from his lips should have sounded a little familiar.

He felt his head drop back to rest on the stranger's chest as the concession slipped in a rasp, wanton whisper from his lips, powerless to deny the need blossoming beneath his skin, clawing for release.

"Yes…"

In darkness was freedom. Hannibal was all too well acquainted with that knowledge. Now, however, he revelled in the uninhibited sensuality afforded by this different kind of darkness in which he found himself. Lust and desire, not blood and death, were his companions this evening. He could see the attraction and how the weak-minded could easily become addicted to the drug of sexual anonymity. That thought raised a conflicting consideration in his mind. As he finished undoing the buttons of Will's shirt, his chest now in a warm press against his back, he felt compelled to ask a question.

"Forgive me," he whispered against Will's ear, "despite our being strangers in the dark, I sense you do not make a habit of these types of liaisons." Hannibal felt Will's body tense at the comment but continued in spite of it. Intent on alleviating the tension before continuing, he slipped his fingers around the collar of Will's shirt and drew it gently off his shoulders and down his arms to hang from his bound wrists. "Tell me, not that I am complaining, but why now? What brings you here on this particular day?"

He felt Will relax again slightly under his gentle ministrations. Hannibal's instincts told him that he would use the darkness to his advantage, reveal without exposing himself.

"An encounter. Earlier today. With a man," Will whispered. Hannibal felt a rare but genuine smile breach his features.

"This encounter. It unsettled you?"

"Yes. I couldn't read him. I can read everyone. Without exception."

"Until him…" Hannibal said.

"Yes. Until him." Hannibal almost felt Will mentally shake himself with the change of tone that entered his voice. "No more talk. You're supposed to be exploring my body, not my mind."

Hannibal gave the briefest rumble of a chuckle from behind closed lips. "True."

Will lifted his reclining head from Hannibal's chest and Hannibal could tell he had turned his head to ask, "May I turn around?"

"Not yet. Please," whispered Hannibal, running his palms up Will's sides to gentle caress his chest. A soft moan signalled that so far, Hannibal was doing everything right. He wondered how long it had been since Will, drowned daily by his cursed gift, had allowed himself to feel for himself and himself alone.

He stilled his hands on their downward journey when they reached the belt of his jeans. No words exchanged, he felt Will nod his assent. As Hannibal unbuckled the metal clasp and freed the buttons from their holes, he wondered if tonight's experience would only amplify his own hunger. He had no intention of taking Will Graham's life, sweet and tempting as his pulsing heart felt beneath his fingers. He was far too interesting a specimen, a mind unlike any other and completely worthy of Hannibal's further attention and study. Perhaps he would have to bring his planned hunt forward…

Hannibal felt Will's breath quicken as he slipped his hands down into his jeans to caress warm, lightly-haired thighs.

"How am I doing so far?" Hannibal husked low and quiet.

"I think you know how you're doing," said Will, shifting his legs so that the waist of his jeans slipped down to his knees. And what you're doing, thought Will to himself, grateful for whatever God of Sensuality had seen fit to push this particular man into his path tonight.

Hannibal almost involuntarily found himself inhaling deeply again, and as the rush of hormones coursing through Will's body flooded his nostrils, he found himself dropping to his knees behind the profiler. In one swift but painfully gentle move, Hannibal pressed his lips to the tail of Will's spine while simultaneously reaching between his thighs to glide his palm across the front of his boxers.

"Jesus Christ!" Will rasped, before his knees buckled and without hands to break his fall, collapsed face down on the wide, soft sofa in front of him.

Will was fleetingly glad of the darkness. Uncontrolled breath was coming quick and fast as strong hands gripped his arms and rolled him back to his feet, before pulling him down again to straddle the thighs of the stranger now positioned beneath him.

When the soft, warm voice spoke, Will could sense the smile behind the words. "Now that I have you where I want you, I think it's time to turn things around…"

Will was feeling lightheaded and somewhat giddy with desire. Not his typical modus operandus by any stretch of any imagination. The consuming darkness was only serving to heighten remaining available senses and amplifying the need coursing through his body. He'd come to The Vault frustrated, expecting a quick, mindless ass-pounding to centre his head, and rid himself of the distraction he had felt during his encounter with the inscrutable mindfuck that was Hannibal Lecter. Contrary to that plan, however, he was presently on course for being swept so far off his feet, he may as well be standing in the eye of a hurricane teetering on the edge of a cliff.

He tried to keep the begging tone from his voice. He almost succeeded. Almost.

"Please. Untie my wrists."

"Why would I do that?" Hannibal enquired, his hands resting on Will's bare thighs.

"I want to touch you."

Will felt the stranger beneath him lean forward. He mirrored the movement, hoping to meet his lips. That collision was barely avoided by Hannibal's splayed hand, quickly rising to place against his chest. Will had never before felt so safe in the dark. That touch, resting on a stuttering heartbeat, became the pinpoint of the sensations travelling across the heated skin currently having its own internal battle, shivering goosebumps searching for a spot to breach through the heat.

"You want to touch me now," Hannibal whispered against his lips. "Not five minutes ago you did not know what you wanted." Hannibal leaned back, allowing the weight of Will's torso to push him resting against the back of the sofa again. The sounds around them had abated to muffled, white noise, both men focussing the access to what senses they had entirely on each other. "Did it occur to you that I didn't want you to be distracted by your own hands? That I wanted to afford you the luxury of my attentions lavished upon you?"

"You really are starting to make me wish I could see you," Will's whisper sounded with the aching need that was threatening to ignite nerve endings and transform them into ash.

"I think you see more than you let on."

Again, Hannibal felt a moment of tension pass through his body and thought he had said too much. "What makes you say that?" Will said softly.

Easily rectified, thought Hannibal. "The way you move your body with mine. It's as though you read me before I read myself."

And it was true. Will felt it. Without the distraction of eyes or the sense of sight, he could just feel for the sake of feeling itself.

Hannibal kept one hand on Will's chest, maintaining a teasing distance between them while running his fingers across the nape of his neck and up through the mass of curls at the back of his head. "I think it's safe to say, that having only just begun my exploration, at I might add your request, I know what's good for you."

Will huffed impatiently against the strangers lips. "Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"

Hannibal brushed smiling, slightly parted lips against Will's own. "You might be surprised to hear that I am as good a listener as a talker, and that there are rarely people I find interesting enough with whom to share my thoughts."

"However, in this moment, while I am talking, I'm also listening to you," he lifted his hand from Will's chest and placed it on his cheek, "and your body is singing to me."

In that moment, both men surged towards each other, closing the space between them.

And while Will Graham was lost, in truth, Hannibal Lecter was not far behind.