Stage One Responses for the Stages of Love fest
Stages of Love Challenges: Stage One
Pirates of the Caribbean - James Norrington/Jack Sparrow
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN
OG - The Stages of Love: Attraction, Romance, Passion, Intimacy, Commitment
Attraction: Pirates of the Caribbean
Attraction is Sea Green
When Jack Sparrow captured the Dauntless in the early morning fog, it was not her stores that were at the top of his agenda.
His most desired treasure was currently stood inside of his cabin, hands bound around one of the posts of his bed. When he stepped inside of the dimly, morning lit room, Sparrow had a few long moments to merely appreciate the man sitting at an awkward angle on his bed, his nightshirt barely down past his hips. His sea-green eyes burned with outrage through the tousled, loose hair that had fallen out of place from his brief battle with his assailants.
If that wasn’t one of the most attractive sights that this particular captain had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on, then Jack Sparrow wasn’t entirely sure what was.
Little jewels, far beyond any emerald he might ever lay hands on, fixed upon him indomitably as he retreated; beautiful treasures that could not be emulated for the fire that burned within them.
There was very little doubt in his mind that it was time to add another official kidnapping to his record.
Romance: Pirates of the Caribbean
Romance is Hurricane Black
Romancing James Norrington was going to be a lot harder than Jack Sparrow had at first anticipated. At first, he’d tried his most charming approach. He grinned at him. After five minutes of grinning, however, the Commodore’s glare had not cracked. He was as steady and upright a gentleman as he had been when Jack had brought him on board in his nightshirt, glaring death with his green eyes, but standing with his head held high none the less.
So with first attempt failed, Jack tried again. He tried wooing James with clothes befitting a gentlemen; stately green to match his eyes, and setting up a delicious, candlelit meal. James tried to use it as an excuse to escape, palming most of the silver to attack Jack with when he thought he’d had too much to drink. He didn’t wager on how ineptly qualified Jack was at repelling attackers, even in a drunken stupor, however.
It wasn’t until a hurricane forced all hands to deck that Jack figured out just how he ought to have been romancing the younger seaman all along. Eight full hours on deck, tightening sheets in the pouring rain and thrashing wind - slipping and sliding over the ebony deck - was plenty enough to bring a flush to the young Fleet Captain’s cheeks, and a smile to his lips.
When the storm died down, the two commanders stood swaying amidships, and looked out over the hurricane black sea, their silence and companionship a testament to the warping power of nature.
Passion: Pirates of the Caribbean
Passion is Fire Red
The hot sun brought many things with it. It brought many shirtless days, and late nights singing and dancing in the cool air. James sat away from the revelry - not getting involved, even when Jack forced a few doses of rum down his throat. He simply sat upright, his back against the rail - or stood at the wheel and pretended that he could see more than a few feet in front of him.
But the sun also brought unhappiness in the daylight hours. The crew was unhappy with the navy man in their presence - and not just any navy man, either. Commodore James Norrington was, after all, La Mort Bleu; a killer, who had hung more than a hundred of their kind without remorse.
James suffered several uncomfortable skirmishes with the crew - and was at one point actually thrown overboard. It was a relief to Jack that the hot weather had also stilled the winds - and the ship was making a massive top speed of two knots.
On the last hot day, it brought one last thing to the Black Pearl; Fire. It brought out the passion in James Norrington - the dedication to his life, and to the lives of the people around him, even though they had made him suffer. He fought for his life against the furnace of heat; because as much as he wanted to deny it, this little pirate ship was the only thing keeping him from going down to Davy Jones.
Hot with sweat, and black with soot from the flames; fingertips burned and skin sensitive to touch, the Pirate and the Commodore found solace in each other’s arms - making love to the sound of the roaring flames that thumped in time with their racing hearts.
Intimacy: Pirates of the Caribbean
Intimacy is Passion-fruit Purple
His lips taste of passion fruit and mango; purples and oranges that sparkle on the backs of his eyelids, held closed against the abrasive touch of the blindfold. The dull taste of gold lingered on his tongue as he explored his dominant lover’s mouth.
A moan drawn from his own throat, sucked in with one long breath, then breathed back down into his lungs. Underneath the fruit was spice and rum; Jack’s own flavor. The captain drew back again, lifted the passion fruit up to replace them and gently squeezed the fruit, dripping seeds and juice down into his lover’s open mouth, running free over his lips and chin. Jack descends again, cleaning him up with his long tongue.
Soft fingertips - like sticky kisses - dance down over his chest leaving their phantom traces behind them. They send electric white flashes along the backs of his eyelids. He can see every touch in his mind spiraling away like the mirrored stars inside a kaleidoscope.
In his head, every breath is like a hurricane. Everything is so powerful a sense now, with his eyes firmly closed; sight impaired. Jack strokes through his hair with sticky, sweet smelling fingers, and James leans back on the bed, welcoming Jack - as though he can resist when his hands are both tightly bound to the headboard.
The powerful, dangerous Commodore submits. Tomorrow, he will take his own turn. Their time is running out. Soon James will have to go back - back to his starched breeches and brocade, his desk and the strong brown earth.
Commitment: Pirates of the Caribbean
Commitment is Roaring White Horses
Inevitability. That was the source of the beginning of their relationship as well as the end. For the pirate, it was a mountain to conquer - the impenetrable James Norrington, relegated Commodore of the British Navy. The Caribbean was no place for such excellent Naval officers. They sent men here whom they’d rather have dead, and the rank of Commodore was only temporary. But Norrington was better than any man they’d sent before, and he’d captured Jack Sparrow’s interest. To keep it, though, the hoarder would have to let go of his most precious treasure.
Because what was the thrill of the hunt without a capable hunter? He wouldn’t enjoy escaping anyone else. The Commodore’s best quality was exactly how much of a dogged foe he was. They called him La Mort Bleu, because he killed pirates without remorse, and the trial was only for show. Even after all the sex; the passion, the intimacy, the danger - James Norrington would still be committed to his profession and his vows as a member of His Majesty’s Navy. Returned to it, James would slip straight back onto the trail, determined to catch Jack once again.
And then the thrill of bedding him would remain in months to come, when Jack catches the Commodore unawares all over again. This is the nature of the pirate’s glittering lust. He knows what he wants, and he presumes to have it, whilst keeping it dangerous. For what is the thrill of having a beautiful knife if one wears down the edges to keep oneself from harm?
So the game they play goes on. Jack leaves James on a little boat sailing into Port Royal, just as he had arrived the first time; and they play cat and mouse - in and out of the blankets - for years to come, as unendingly as the roaring white horses splash around the stern of their respective ships.
Red Dragon: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
RED DRAGON
OG - The Stages of Love: Attraction, Romance, Passion, Intimacy, Commitment
Attraction: Red Dragon
At First Glance
Dr Hannibal Lecter’s first glance of Will Graham was of an exhausted, dark eyed man who looked like he would prefer nothing better than a perpetual state of drug induced hibernation.
From his talks with the man’s superiors, he had gleaned much of Will’s profession and personality.
Apparently, however, they seemed to be taking advantage of his gift of emotional projection.
Will Graham was currently working as a profiler for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. His extraordinary talents were the key to his success: The poor boy was an eideteker; that is, that if he could look at something for long enough, he could glean almost anything from the image. Coupled with extraordinary imagination, he could look deep into the mind of others; put themselves into their positions and see through their eyes.
From a painting, he could see the artist, their ambitions and pleasures, and their mood as they painted. From a murder scene, however, Will could see the mind of the killer - feel the beating of their heart as they drove the life from their victims. He could feel the euphoria, or anger, or fear that they felt. It was slowly driving him mad.
Hannibal Lecter knew all this. He knew how fragile the young man was; a pane of quivering glass, held by nothing more than a thread. A few simple words, carefully aimed, could tear him apart. But Lecter looked into those strong, brown eyes, and could admire the courage that he saw in them. And along with that bravery, an intelligence that was at once challenging, and arousing.
Romance: Red Dragon
A Mad Romantic
Romanticism for Hannibal Lecter is Mozart and Beethoven, Turner and Constable, Blake, Yeats and Byron. It is Victor Hugo, Coleridge and Wordsworth and Tchaikovsky! True romance is a far cry from the misery and madness represented by these epitomes of human achievement. But it does meet one standard. For him, romance is as difficult to touch as those far away opiate dreams of Byrons’, or the deep and buried memories that Wordsworth committed to pen. It is a distant concept, like music playing in a distant room - almost recognizable, if only you could hear the timbre of the music through the thick brick and noise reducers. Dr. Lecter cannot grip romance in his hand, not unless he is using it in farce and trickery. To harm, Hannibal can use it as a weapon. He can canoodle his way into anyone’s lap, and then strike them where it hurts; he’s done it before, used his charm to kill. But when he wants the power of romance, it is elusive. Right now, it is escaping him.
Will Graham stands before him; this spectre, this living human being. People would call him a monster, some already did behind his back. They called him a monster, too. He has brought him here to this empty opera house by notes and cajoling. He could have brought backup, but he had come alone. The two of them have a score to settle. Long ago, two threads were strung between the fingers of the Fates to take their trim, but survived by sheer determination. Now, Will thinks that his time has come. This final chapter must be sung in duet only, and eventually it will be only a solo.
Lecter has other ideas. He has other intentions for the duet.
The soft sound of a waltz - the Moonlight Sonata - hums through the building, the far away notes coming clear as the movement progresses. Lecter’s maroon eyes find a glint of crimson to light them even in this light, and he steps forwards, a needle concealed in the palm of his hand.
And as the crucial notes sound loud and emotional in the dusty air, he says, “Would you care to dance, Will?”
Passion: Red Dragon
Impassioned Pragmatic
In the brightly lit Paris evening they stop for ice cream in a parlor on the Champs Elysses. Will discusses the paintings they saw today at the Louvre, and brings to life artists hundreds of years old with his unique perspective. In his mind, Picasso is a man who cannot express beauty well enough to do it justice, and La Gioconda or Joconde; the Mona Lisa, to you and me, was a battle by Da Vinci to do what Picasso admitted he could not.
When Will is working through his thoughts, piecing them all together in the way that Lecter has taught him, he delights in it thoroughly. There is no danger here. He is not looking into the eyes of madmen, who might leap out and kill him at any moment. There is a true passion in his abilities now. It is this that Hannibal has given to Will Graham, and it is a treasured gift.
Lecter gives him mystery fiction to read; the last pages clipped closed so that he has to work it out himself. Will likes Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie. He abhors unsolveable mysteries and spy thrillers - hates the feel of invisible bullets whizzing through his hair, but feels a deep, passionate delight when Holmes and his kin trick their prey into revealing themselves.
In London they stay in an expensive metropolitan apartment, released to Lecter in an old patient’s will. It overlooks Regent’s Park, and Will can feel the age of the house when he presses his palms against the bare stone wall and closes his eyes.
After dinner, and a bottle of St. Estephe - one of Lecter’s favourites - they make love on the ancient, Louis XV walnut bed - broad, strong beams supporting the curtains around them, cutting out the rest of the world with red velvet and gold embroidery. As they move together there is very little to suggest that they are even real, and not a part of some classical painting back in the Louvre. There is an ethereal beauty in their passion - red velvet reflecting it’s sheen onto their erubescent flesh.
Intimacy: Red Dragon
Good Cop, Bad Cop
Will Graham learns a lot of things in the monster’s arms. He learns that he likes the taste of Lecter’s sweat on his lips as he kisses along the curve of his spine. He loves the flavor of Chianti in his lover’s mouth, the smooth, powerful hint of pate de fois gras. When Hannibal touches him, he loves to feel the racing of his own heart, and the rapidly cooling sweat that makes him shiver in anticipation.
He learns of his addiction to submission. He yearns for it. Lecter is his equal; but in bed, he is dominant and powerful, and the younger man laps it up hungrily. He adores every bite and scratch, bruise and cut marking his own lean, scarred body. Lecter has scars too: Will gave them to him. He has paid them back a thousand times over.
Lecter has learnt a lot about himself too. He’s learnt of his own power. There is no fear between them now. He understands Will, and yet often the other man surprised him while they’re in bed. The way his mind works is the key. They role play a lot; Will likes ‘Good cop, bad cop’, and pretends to be a variety of different patients for Dr. Lecter.
Will’s body is naked to the moonlight. His scars are shimmering ethereal shapes. Lecter traces them with his tongue, and the younger man arches up into his touch, straining in the silver handcuffs that are closed tight enough to bruise and chafe his wrists. Another glitter - Hannibal’s knife, moving with surgeon’s precision in the half dark. Trust between them; Will lets his lover carve his path without resistance. His noises are of mixed pleasure and pain. He doesn’t resist, because he wants it so much, wants the tang of his blood to fill the air, arousing them both.
And when all is done, and both are sleepy with the aftereffects of their sex, all before is forgotten as they curl together like any other pair of lovers on an autumn night. Embraced in warmth and bliss they sleep for a while, and make love on and off throughout the long night.
Commitment: Red Dragon
Knife Edge
They live on the edge of a blade. Sociopath murderer Hannibal Lecter has kept his place at the top of the FBI’s Most Wanted list, and Will Graham would be there too, if the FBI were aware of the extent of his collaboration. Instead he is merely a missing person, and therefore not even qualified for a piece of crumpled paper in the FBI’s trash can.
But soon enough, the FBI does know. Soon enough running is not enough. Even men as clever as Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter cannot hide forever, and one day they are seen and recognized as they browse over their wine in the bar of an opera house. They are run to ground - and with the FBI coming in, a real show of commitment is inevitable.
Hannibal Lecter knows that this time he will get the chair - or more likely its modern day “humane” equivalent; the lethal injection. The authorities cannot risk his escaping again. Will Graham might be treated better; he may be given a plastic cell with felt tip pens, and visitors comprising of psychiatry majors hoping to test their skill by prodding at his mind and seeking his innermost secrets, just as they had done to Lecter before him. Neither wants their death, he tells Will, but they want this possible future far less. At least if they die together, he suggests, they will have that last thing to share.
As they lie together in the bed where they have slept here in Sydney for some weeks, they stare deep into each other’s eyes, still humming in the afterglow of their very last session of lovemaking. Lecter is gentle with the silver filleting knife that looks almost a part of his hand. He brushes the sharp blade against his lover’s throat and kisses him chastely on his trembling lips; and when Will looks up one last time and says “Until death and ever after,” Lecter brings the knife edge down on their relationship and spills his lover’s deep red passion over his chest.
When Graham has breathed out the last of his life against his lips, Lecter rises from the bed and makes his way to the French windows, throwing them wide. Hannibal Lecter is not a coward - it was his strong and burning love that let him free Will - but he cannot kill himself. When the needle finally sinks into his arm he is far away, making love to Graham in his mind.
Pirates of the Caribbean - James Norrington/Jack Sparrow
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN
OG - The Stages of Love: Attraction, Romance, Passion, Intimacy, Commitment
Attraction: Pirates of the Caribbean
Attraction is Sea Green
When Jack Sparrow captured the Dauntless in the early morning fog, it was not her stores that were at the top of his agenda.
His most desired treasure was currently stood inside of his cabin, hands bound around one of the posts of his bed. When he stepped inside of the dimly, morning lit room, Sparrow had a few long moments to merely appreciate the man sitting at an awkward angle on his bed, his nightshirt barely down past his hips. His sea-green eyes burned with outrage through the tousled, loose hair that had fallen out of place from his brief battle with his assailants.
If that wasn’t one of the most attractive sights that this particular captain had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on, then Jack Sparrow wasn’t entirely sure what was.
Little jewels, far beyond any emerald he might ever lay hands on, fixed upon him indomitably as he retreated; beautiful treasures that could not be emulated for the fire that burned within them.
There was very little doubt in his mind that it was time to add another official kidnapping to his record.
Romance: Pirates of the Caribbean
Romance is Hurricane Black
Romancing James Norrington was going to be a lot harder than Jack Sparrow had at first anticipated. At first, he’d tried his most charming approach. He grinned at him. After five minutes of grinning, however, the Commodore’s glare had not cracked. He was as steady and upright a gentleman as he had been when Jack had brought him on board in his nightshirt, glaring death with his green eyes, but standing with his head held high none the less.
So with first attempt failed, Jack tried again. He tried wooing James with clothes befitting a gentlemen; stately green to match his eyes, and setting up a delicious, candlelit meal. James tried to use it as an excuse to escape, palming most of the silver to attack Jack with when he thought he’d had too much to drink. He didn’t wager on how ineptly qualified Jack was at repelling attackers, even in a drunken stupor, however.
It wasn’t until a hurricane forced all hands to deck that Jack figured out just how he ought to have been romancing the younger seaman all along. Eight full hours on deck, tightening sheets in the pouring rain and thrashing wind - slipping and sliding over the ebony deck - was plenty enough to bring a flush to the young Fleet Captain’s cheeks, and a smile to his lips.
When the storm died down, the two commanders stood swaying amidships, and looked out over the hurricane black sea, their silence and companionship a testament to the warping power of nature.
Passion: Pirates of the Caribbean
Passion is Fire Red
The hot sun brought many things with it. It brought many shirtless days, and late nights singing and dancing in the cool air. James sat away from the revelry - not getting involved, even when Jack forced a few doses of rum down his throat. He simply sat upright, his back against the rail - or stood at the wheel and pretended that he could see more than a few feet in front of him.
But the sun also brought unhappiness in the daylight hours. The crew was unhappy with the navy man in their presence - and not just any navy man, either. Commodore James Norrington was, after all, La Mort Bleu; a killer, who had hung more than a hundred of their kind without remorse.
James suffered several uncomfortable skirmishes with the crew - and was at one point actually thrown overboard. It was a relief to Jack that the hot weather had also stilled the winds - and the ship was making a massive top speed of two knots.
On the last hot day, it brought one last thing to the Black Pearl; Fire. It brought out the passion in James Norrington - the dedication to his life, and to the lives of the people around him, even though they had made him suffer. He fought for his life against the furnace of heat; because as much as he wanted to deny it, this little pirate ship was the only thing keeping him from going down to Davy Jones.
Hot with sweat, and black with soot from the flames; fingertips burned and skin sensitive to touch, the Pirate and the Commodore found solace in each other’s arms - making love to the sound of the roaring flames that thumped in time with their racing hearts.
Intimacy: Pirates of the Caribbean
Intimacy is Passion-fruit Purple
His lips taste of passion fruit and mango; purples and oranges that sparkle on the backs of his eyelids, held closed against the abrasive touch of the blindfold. The dull taste of gold lingered on his tongue as he explored his dominant lover’s mouth.
A moan drawn from his own throat, sucked in with one long breath, then breathed back down into his lungs. Underneath the fruit was spice and rum; Jack’s own flavor. The captain drew back again, lifted the passion fruit up to replace them and gently squeezed the fruit, dripping seeds and juice down into his lover’s open mouth, running free over his lips and chin. Jack descends again, cleaning him up with his long tongue.
Soft fingertips - like sticky kisses - dance down over his chest leaving their phantom traces behind them. They send electric white flashes along the backs of his eyelids. He can see every touch in his mind spiraling away like the mirrored stars inside a kaleidoscope.
In his head, every breath is like a hurricane. Everything is so powerful a sense now, with his eyes firmly closed; sight impaired. Jack strokes through his hair with sticky, sweet smelling fingers, and James leans back on the bed, welcoming Jack - as though he can resist when his hands are both tightly bound to the headboard.
The powerful, dangerous Commodore submits. Tomorrow, he will take his own turn. Their time is running out. Soon James will have to go back - back to his starched breeches and brocade, his desk and the strong brown earth.
Commitment: Pirates of the Caribbean
Commitment is Roaring White Horses
Inevitability. That was the source of the beginning of their relationship as well as the end. For the pirate, it was a mountain to conquer - the impenetrable James Norrington, relegated Commodore of the British Navy. The Caribbean was no place for such excellent Naval officers. They sent men here whom they’d rather have dead, and the rank of Commodore was only temporary. But Norrington was better than any man they’d sent before, and he’d captured Jack Sparrow’s interest. To keep it, though, the hoarder would have to let go of his most precious treasure.
Because what was the thrill of the hunt without a capable hunter? He wouldn’t enjoy escaping anyone else. The Commodore’s best quality was exactly how much of a dogged foe he was. They called him La Mort Bleu, because he killed pirates without remorse, and the trial was only for show. Even after all the sex; the passion, the intimacy, the danger - James Norrington would still be committed to his profession and his vows as a member of His Majesty’s Navy. Returned to it, James would slip straight back onto the trail, determined to catch Jack once again.
And then the thrill of bedding him would remain in months to come, when Jack catches the Commodore unawares all over again. This is the nature of the pirate’s glittering lust. He knows what he wants, and he presumes to have it, whilst keeping it dangerous. For what is the thrill of having a beautiful knife if one wears down the edges to keep oneself from harm?
So the game they play goes on. Jack leaves James on a little boat sailing into Port Royal, just as he had arrived the first time; and they play cat and mouse - in and out of the blankets - for years to come, as unendingly as the roaring white horses splash around the stern of their respective ships.
Red Dragon: Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham
RED DRAGON
OG - The Stages of Love: Attraction, Romance, Passion, Intimacy, Commitment
Attraction: Red Dragon
At First Glance
Dr Hannibal Lecter’s first glance of Will Graham was of an exhausted, dark eyed man who looked like he would prefer nothing better than a perpetual state of drug induced hibernation.
From his talks with the man’s superiors, he had gleaned much of Will’s profession and personality.
Apparently, however, they seemed to be taking advantage of his gift of emotional projection.
Will Graham was currently working as a profiler for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. His extraordinary talents were the key to his success: The poor boy was an eideteker; that is, that if he could look at something for long enough, he could glean almost anything from the image. Coupled with extraordinary imagination, he could look deep into the mind of others; put themselves into their positions and see through their eyes.
From a painting, he could see the artist, their ambitions and pleasures, and their mood as they painted. From a murder scene, however, Will could see the mind of the killer - feel the beating of their heart as they drove the life from their victims. He could feel the euphoria, or anger, or fear that they felt. It was slowly driving him mad.
Hannibal Lecter knew all this. He knew how fragile the young man was; a pane of quivering glass, held by nothing more than a thread. A few simple words, carefully aimed, could tear him apart. But Lecter looked into those strong, brown eyes, and could admire the courage that he saw in them. And along with that bravery, an intelligence that was at once challenging, and arousing.
Romance: Red Dragon
A Mad Romantic
Romanticism for Hannibal Lecter is Mozart and Beethoven, Turner and Constable, Blake, Yeats and Byron. It is Victor Hugo, Coleridge and Wordsworth and Tchaikovsky! True romance is a far cry from the misery and madness represented by these epitomes of human achievement. But it does meet one standard. For him, romance is as difficult to touch as those far away opiate dreams of Byrons’, or the deep and buried memories that Wordsworth committed to pen. It is a distant concept, like music playing in a distant room - almost recognizable, if only you could hear the timbre of the music through the thick brick and noise reducers. Dr. Lecter cannot grip romance in his hand, not unless he is using it in farce and trickery. To harm, Hannibal can use it as a weapon. He can canoodle his way into anyone’s lap, and then strike them where it hurts; he’s done it before, used his charm to kill. But when he wants the power of romance, it is elusive. Right now, it is escaping him.
Will Graham stands before him; this spectre, this living human being. People would call him a monster, some already did behind his back. They called him a monster, too. He has brought him here to this empty opera house by notes and cajoling. He could have brought backup, but he had come alone. The two of them have a score to settle. Long ago, two threads were strung between the fingers of the Fates to take their trim, but survived by sheer determination. Now, Will thinks that his time has come. This final chapter must be sung in duet only, and eventually it will be only a solo.
Lecter has other ideas. He has other intentions for the duet.
The soft sound of a waltz - the Moonlight Sonata - hums through the building, the far away notes coming clear as the movement progresses. Lecter’s maroon eyes find a glint of crimson to light them even in this light, and he steps forwards, a needle concealed in the palm of his hand.
And as the crucial notes sound loud and emotional in the dusty air, he says, “Would you care to dance, Will?”
Passion: Red Dragon
Impassioned Pragmatic
In the brightly lit Paris evening they stop for ice cream in a parlor on the Champs Elysses. Will discusses the paintings they saw today at the Louvre, and brings to life artists hundreds of years old with his unique perspective. In his mind, Picasso is a man who cannot express beauty well enough to do it justice, and La Gioconda or Joconde; the Mona Lisa, to you and me, was a battle by Da Vinci to do what Picasso admitted he could not.
When Will is working through his thoughts, piecing them all together in the way that Lecter has taught him, he delights in it thoroughly. There is no danger here. He is not looking into the eyes of madmen, who might leap out and kill him at any moment. There is a true passion in his abilities now. It is this that Hannibal has given to Will Graham, and it is a treasured gift.
Lecter gives him mystery fiction to read; the last pages clipped closed so that he has to work it out himself. Will likes Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie. He abhors unsolveable mysteries and spy thrillers - hates the feel of invisible bullets whizzing through his hair, but feels a deep, passionate delight when Holmes and his kin trick their prey into revealing themselves.
In London they stay in an expensive metropolitan apartment, released to Lecter in an old patient’s will. It overlooks Regent’s Park, and Will can feel the age of the house when he presses his palms against the bare stone wall and closes his eyes.
After dinner, and a bottle of St. Estephe - one of Lecter’s favourites - they make love on the ancient, Louis XV walnut bed - broad, strong beams supporting the curtains around them, cutting out the rest of the world with red velvet and gold embroidery. As they move together there is very little to suggest that they are even real, and not a part of some classical painting back in the Louvre. There is an ethereal beauty in their passion - red velvet reflecting it’s sheen onto their erubescent flesh.
Intimacy: Red Dragon
Good Cop, Bad Cop
Will Graham learns a lot of things in the monster’s arms. He learns that he likes the taste of Lecter’s sweat on his lips as he kisses along the curve of his spine. He loves the flavor of Chianti in his lover’s mouth, the smooth, powerful hint of pate de fois gras. When Hannibal touches him, he loves to feel the racing of his own heart, and the rapidly cooling sweat that makes him shiver in anticipation.
He learns of his addiction to submission. He yearns for it. Lecter is his equal; but in bed, he is dominant and powerful, and the younger man laps it up hungrily. He adores every bite and scratch, bruise and cut marking his own lean, scarred body. Lecter has scars too: Will gave them to him. He has paid them back a thousand times over.
Lecter has learnt a lot about himself too. He’s learnt of his own power. There is no fear between them now. He understands Will, and yet often the other man surprised him while they’re in bed. The way his mind works is the key. They role play a lot; Will likes ‘Good cop, bad cop’, and pretends to be a variety of different patients for Dr. Lecter.
Will’s body is naked to the moonlight. His scars are shimmering ethereal shapes. Lecter traces them with his tongue, and the younger man arches up into his touch, straining in the silver handcuffs that are closed tight enough to bruise and chafe his wrists. Another glitter - Hannibal’s knife, moving with surgeon’s precision in the half dark. Trust between them; Will lets his lover carve his path without resistance. His noises are of mixed pleasure and pain. He doesn’t resist, because he wants it so much, wants the tang of his blood to fill the air, arousing them both.
And when all is done, and both are sleepy with the aftereffects of their sex, all before is forgotten as they curl together like any other pair of lovers on an autumn night. Embraced in warmth and bliss they sleep for a while, and make love on and off throughout the long night.
Commitment: Red Dragon
Knife Edge
They live on the edge of a blade. Sociopath murderer Hannibal Lecter has kept his place at the top of the FBI’s Most Wanted list, and Will Graham would be there too, if the FBI were aware of the extent of his collaboration. Instead he is merely a missing person, and therefore not even qualified for a piece of crumpled paper in the FBI’s trash can.
But soon enough, the FBI does know. Soon enough running is not enough. Even men as clever as Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter cannot hide forever, and one day they are seen and recognized as they browse over their wine in the bar of an opera house. They are run to ground - and with the FBI coming in, a real show of commitment is inevitable.
Hannibal Lecter knows that this time he will get the chair - or more likely its modern day “humane” equivalent; the lethal injection. The authorities cannot risk his escaping again. Will Graham might be treated better; he may be given a plastic cell with felt tip pens, and visitors comprising of psychiatry majors hoping to test their skill by prodding at his mind and seeking his innermost secrets, just as they had done to Lecter before him. Neither wants their death, he tells Will, but they want this possible future far less. At least if they die together, he suggests, they will have that last thing to share.
As they lie together in the bed where they have slept here in Sydney for some weeks, they stare deep into each other’s eyes, still humming in the afterglow of their very last session of lovemaking. Lecter is gentle with the silver filleting knife that looks almost a part of his hand. He brushes the sharp blade against his lover’s throat and kisses him chastely on his trembling lips; and when Will looks up one last time and says “Until death and ever after,” Lecter brings the knife edge down on their relationship and spills his lover’s deep red passion over his chest.
When Graham has breathed out the last of his life against his lips, Lecter rises from the bed and makes his way to the French windows, throwing them wide. Hannibal Lecter is not a coward - it was his strong and burning love that let him free Will - but he cannot kill himself. When the needle finally sinks into his arm he is far away, making love to Graham in his mind.