
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2447345.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Hannibal_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Will_Graham/Hannibal_Lecter
  Character:
      Dr._Frederick_Chilton, Freddie_Lounds, Franklyn_Froideveaux, Alana_Bloom,
      Hannibal_Lecter, Will_Graham, Tobias_Budge, Nicholas_Boyle, Matthew_Brown
      (Hannibal), Abigail_Hobbs, Garrett_Jacob_Hobbs, Margot_Verger
  Additional Tags:
      Age_Play, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School,
      Teacher-Student_Relationship
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-10-13 Completed: 2014-10-14 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 3213
****** Delightful, Mr. Lecter ******
by ryuko_matoi_(jxkuzure)
Summary
     Will Graham's substitute AP English teacher is more than cashmere
     sweaters and classroom etiquette.
***** Chapter 1 *****
                            Delightful, Mr. Lecter
                                   Hannibal
                                   Hannigram
===============================================================================
                                        
Will despised school and especially his last period; AP English--he found it
nothing more but the ending of Macbeth; gory. He had it at the end of the day
where they only thing he wanted to do was blow his brains out.
Though he was a junior, he felt like he's been in school for over a century.
Every day was just a big rewind moment--get up, go to school, come home. What
happened in between was nothing more than a blur.
He's made a few friends throughout high school including Freddie (the school
reporter), Matthew (the head of the Student Council) and even Alana (Homecoming
queen since Will has been at Baltimore High).
None of his teachers were his friends though; he personally had a vendetta on
Mr. Crawford, his Physics teacher. Mr. Crawford was a middle-aged man slowly
going into his prime but had the attitude of a freaking war general--yelling at
the top of his lungs everyday as if he was the town crier. Will never had a
good grade in Physics; it was a D-minus, but he managed to pass it for the
first semester.
He hated AP Calculus just because Miss Katz irked his nerves. She was a fairly
young woman who blabbed about her life as if she was writing an autobiography.
Will held no fondness for teachers or consolers--Dr. Chilton had the sights on
him. Every day during study hall or lunch the consoler would page him to come
to the office--his study hall would howl in unison.
After a while, Dr. Chilton gave up because Will never talked for the whole
thirty minutes. He would keep his eyes focused somewhere else and refuse to
answer any of the questions Dr. Chilton asked.
 
===============================================================================
 
Will's reputation wasn't a totally good or bad one--it was in the middle. He
wasn't the social outcast that Franklyn Froideveaux, the poor freshman was
practically reeking in abandonment. Will had only seen him several times
whether it was fleeing in tears or face flushed a bright red color. Tobias
Budge, a member of the lacrosse team and highest GPA in Will's classes, had
helped the poor freshman. He would walk with him to his classes, sit with him
at lunch, and even tutor him after school. Once most of the school saw Tobias
and Franklyn together, they pushed off the freshman and set on another target;
Abigail Hobbs.
Abigail was a sweet pudgy sophomore with wide blue eyes and a kind smile, Will
actually enjoyed her presence. She would sit down with him during study hall
and chatter away about some comic book she gushed over. It was better than
Nicholas Boyle--the fellow junior talked more shit than the actual shit that
came out of his ass.
Yet her family had...complications, not in terms of wealth or appearances. It
wasn't a lie that Mr. Hobbs was a deviant, a sexual deviant, and had a few
charges brought against him already. Will stayed far away from the Hobbs
residence after the whole incident had been "solved".
He tried to question some things to Abigail but the girl avoided his questions.
Her blue eyes would slit in confusion before widening again as she turned the
page of her comic book. He didn't suspect any abuse but it didn't hurt to ask.
Abigail didn't live with her parents anyway, she lived with her aunt almost a
whole city away. Will was quite relieved when Abigail shared that to him. His
family was a complete wreck anyway--Dad piss drunk every night, mom gone, the
same of scenario every night. Yet Will had been adopted, his actual origins was
somewhere in western America (he was quite proud because not too many people
knew someone from the west)
===============================================================================

His "adopted" father was a man from deep Louisiana and hadn't always been so
drunk. He drinks but not as excessively as he did when Mrs. Graham started
sleeping with a family friend. He managed to stay sober when it came to Will
and his education.
Time was on his side once the bell for fifth period ranged, Will nearly stormed
out of French three and into the open hallway. Hundreds of kids flooded the
halls as he pushed through them all--he needed to get out of school.
He itched for a smoke which he kept safely tucked in his messenger bag. His
school had very few regulations and that included security, a kid could skip
school all day long and the campus office wouldn't do shit. Will left the main
hall and was able to walk around the back of the school, digging in his bag for
his precious menthols.
He slid one in his mouth and lit it with the lighter he kept on hand--taking a
deep drag and thick white smoke left his nostrils. Will never found cigarettes
attractive or plesaing but today had been so shitty that he begged for the
awful taste of menthol. He leaned against the graffti-covered wall and closed
his eyes--the cool breeze of spring cooling him off.
Even if his life sucked, he knew when he turned eighteen he could leave this
place. He wanted to travel--see everything he could with his beautiful eyes and
cherish every vision.
He had been daydreaming for so long he didn't hear anyone approach.

"You know you shouldn't be smoking, student.", a deep-accented voice scolded.
Will snapped out of his day dreaming and saw a tall man, blonde almost white
hair, and a pair of sanguine eyes that looked like bloody cuts. The man was
dressed in a cashmere sweater and dark slacks--his hair slicked back and his
glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose.
Will quickly extinguished his cigarette on the ground and straightened up,
swallowing the nervousness in his throat as the man (clearly a teacher) looked
over him.
"What is your name?", the man asked.
Will looked over the nicely dressed adult and saw a name badge--substitute
teacher, Mr. Lecter, and sighed softly. "William Graham, and I'm a junior."
Mr. Lecter didn't seem to impress with the with Will.
"Don't be late for my class, Mr. Graham.", Dr. Lecter scolded once more before
walking away--his red eyes still lingered on Will.
Will nodded quickly and threw down the cigarette, extinguishing it with his
foot. At least the substitute didn't snitch on him . . .
Will slid into his sixth period class with ease--finding the normally unruly
class tamed and docile. Mr. Lecter was seated at the front desk. His red eyes
didn't look up from the class roster but only ushered Will to his seat.
"You're late, Mr. Graham.", Mr. Lecter comments. The whole class turns to where
Will was seated; far corner of the room. A series of "ooos" echoed in the
classroom but quickly came to a stop when Mr. Lecter glared at the class.
Everyone returned their gaze back into their textbooks. "Don't make it a
habit."
Will sighed deeply and folded his arms on the desk. This was going to be a long
period.
An essay prompt had been briefly written on the whiteboard; describe yourself
in a three-paragraphed page.
The class, including Will Graham, groaned at such a cheesy prompt. Teachers who
didnt plan to be absent from school always had that last-ditch effort to make
students do work. Mr. Lecter seemed more displeased with the prompt that anyone
but reassured everyone it was not his idea.
"Just write the prompt to the best of your ability, afterwards, its a free
period."
The class rejoiced in unison as backpacks unzipping and binder rings snapping
echoed around. A girl next to Will kindly offered some notebook paper and he
accepted it. He took out a pen and scribbled down the prompt.
 
 
 
                                                            William Graham
                                                          October 12, 2014
                                                             AP English 3A
                                                                  Period 6
                                        
                  Describe yourself in a three-paragraph page
                                        
     My name is William Graham and I find this prompt utter bullshit. Yes,
     bullshit. You can send me to the office for the profanity but I still
       won't give a shit. I can't tell you how many times I had to write
      prompts like this. They limit the amount of individuality, meaning,
        every one is either going to write "intelligent" or "pretty" or
                     "creative". The same freaking traits.
      If you must know whats "unique" about me, I live with an alcoholic
     father in a lousy house. Oh wait that's not unique, I think that can
                      go to many kids sitting around me.
      So the next time you want to assign an essay, don't use the shitty
                          "describe-yourself" prompt.
Will sat down his pen and looked over his work, a proud smile across his face.
He rose from his seat and manuvered through the hordes of backpacks and purses
to the front desk. Mr. Lecter gave him a skeptical look before taking his
paper.
"Easy as pie, Mr. Lecter.", Will says with a punch of sarcasm in his tone. Mr.
Lecter disregarded his comment as other students approached to turn in their
papers. For the next hour, Will sat a this desk tapping his pen anxiously.
Everyone else got into their social groups and chattered but he was too focused
on the clock. He was probably going to go skate with Price or Matthew if he
didn't have any Student Goverment meetings. At some point he stopped tapping
his pen and just laid his head down on the desk. Sleep could pass the time and
Will was trying to throw time down the rabbit hole.
 
===============================================================================
 
The loud ringing of the bell roused Will from his light slumber, a flurry of
students racing out the classroom door. The hallways flooded with kids as Will
lingered at his desk
Mr. Lecter was going over the essays when he noticed Will was still in the
classroom. "Aren't you going to leave, Mr. Graham? Most students can't wait to
enjoy their weekend."
Will streched cat-like in his seat and got up, pushing back some of the curls
that drooped in front of his face. He picked up his bag and shrugged. "I don't
catch the bus so I don't need to rush."
Mr. Lecter made a "hmph" sound and held up Will's paper. The student approached
the desk and examined it, a series of red marker all over the paper. He
crinkled his nose and was about to rip the paper in two before Mr. Lecter
stopped him.
"Don't, Mr. Graham. I am actually impressed with your...words."
Will sat the paper down on the desk and rolled his eyes. "It was a stupid
prompt."
"Yet you chose your words accordingly."
Mr. Lecter pushed his glasses up his nose and rose from his seat. He walked
around the desk and faced Will, their height difference staggering as well as
age. "Don't ever doubt your feelings."
Will scoffed and fixed the strap of his messenger bag. "What are you? Dr.
Chilton's sidekick in therapy?", he jested and was about to turn on his heels
till Mr. Lecter caught him by the shoulder. Will was whirled around and stunned
for the moment until the reality caught back up--Mr. Lecter's lips brushed
against his own. He jerked back and only questioned with his eyes. Neither of
them spoke as the tension in the air spiced in the intensity. Mr. Lecter closed
the space between them again and this time Will pushed him back, anger sparking
in azure eyes.
"Don't fucking touch me, you sick shit.", he spat harshly and ran towards the
door. He ripped it open and slammed it behind him.
Mr. Lecter sighed deeply and returned to his desk. In a way, Will Graham was
attractive with such honesty he displayed in his essay. Such honesty and young
revolt was something Mr. Lecter strived for.
Will was that reckless youth that cared little for the future and little about
the consequences. Strangely enough it was the kind of revolt that attracted
Hannibal.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     **Dubcon In This Chapter**
     **Technically Not Completed as of 13/10/2014**
     Will Graham returns to school the next day with another vendetta
     underneath his collar--Mr. Lecter is now subbing for Will Graham's
     Physics class.
Chapter Notes
     (First 1,000 words published on 13/10/2014)
     Another 1,000 words will come on some day at some time.
     //Officially homeschooled and writing time is limited//
     And I can't say this enough --- My tumblr submission box is always
     open if you want something written, jeez. It can be a freaking
     knockoff of Sleeping Beauty--I'll still write it.
===============================================================================
 
Will rushed home after school and didn't bother to even ask if Matthew needed
help setting up his campaign; he was going to win no matter what. Frustrated
and slightly disgusted, he entered his house and caught a glimpse of his father
in the kitchen. Something smelled good and he investigated; chicken frying on
the stove while corn and fresh cornbread sat on the counter. His father was a
burly man with a thick beard and aged complexion. He was a lax man by nature
until he started drinking alcohol--Will made it a mission to get rid of any
booze he found in the cabinets.
"William, you're home...quite early.", his father comments as he takes a few
pieces of sizzling chicken out the skillet. Will brushed by him and grabbed a
piece of cornbread--stuffing it into his mouth before his father snatched away
from him. Crumbs fell down on his shirt as he chewed. "Didn't have anything to
do this afternoon."
His father grunted in response and turned his attention back to preparing the
meal. "Well, if you go out later--I'll put your plate in the oven."
Will left the kitchen and walked down the hallway--fingers brushing polished
wood and finally to his door. His room wasn't something of utter importance; it
had a bed, a dresser, and a desk. He required little which in favor, his dad
wouldn't have to worry about too much of his expensive needs. One thing he did
have of value was his laptop, sitting perfectly on top of his bedspread. He got
it a year back from Matthew--an early birthday present from his fellow peer. He
would have declined such a gift if it wasn’t for Matthew always pestering him
about the laptop.
He threw his messenger bag down on the floor and approached his bed, picking up
the laptop in his way and powering it up. It was one of those fancy MacBooks
that Will could never fathom buying on his own. He checked his emails for a
while, mostly from Matthew regarding the campaign, and his instant-messaging.
Few had been from people he didn’t know, a few from Freddie, only one from
Tobias (asking if Will could attend a lacrosse practice before school).
Will powered his laptop down and sat it beside him, taking a deep breath, and
exhaling. His eyes pointed up to the ceiling. He was seventeen years old and
life was a nightmare.
It didn't matter how many "friends" or "enemies" he made throughout his
childhood, he remembered none of the fond memories. He lived day by day and
didn't dwell on the tragedies or misconceptions of life. He thought of cherry
red eyes in the back of his mind, unyielding and almost emotionless. Will
turned over on his side and groaned--he didn't want to think about that fiasco
of a "kiss". It wasn't like Will hasn't kissed one (including Alana on
Homecoming night) but it was wrong. Mr. Lecter was so much older and for
Christ's sake, he was his substitute teacher!
Yet that silvery blonde hair and deep accent made Will's heart go into a
flutter--making his chest feel like lead was inside. Nicholas had been his
crush since freshman year, then it was Alana, and finally Matthew but the
student body president crushed over Margot Verger (an exchange student from
Eastern Europe). Like another shot in the dark, Will had to cope with the loss
of a "romantic" interest.
A soft rapping at his door yanked him out of his thoughts as his dad walked in
with his plate, chicken and corn piled high with another piece of cornbread. In
his other hand was a glass of juice and Will already started to salivate. The
plate and glass was set down on his desk and just as his dad was about to
leave. . .
"Thanks, dad. It looks really good.", Will compliments as he got out of bed to
sit at his desk, moving some textbooks and folders aside. His dad shrugged his
shoulders and left the room.
Will ate his dinner and returned the dishes to the kitchen. It was late in the
evening when he decided a cold shower would do him some good. Stepping out of
his clothes and into an icy cold spray, Will Graham stood there like a
shivering mess. The water soaked his curls and drizzled down his face, leaving
them paler than his own complexion. His mind wandered from time to time as the
bitter cold erased the little he was feeling. The longer he stood there, the
longer his thoughts trailed to Mr. Lecter. Tanned skin, silvery hair, and blood
eyes that couldn't be of this realm--Will let out a small groan in such
delicious thought. His groin flushed with warm heat and his prick twitched in
response.
Novice hands pressed the swell down as Will tried his best to trash the lewd
thought but nothing could replace red eyes. He never considered dating boys
except for Matthew (the kid was smart and very relatable) but something about
Mr. Lecter made Will's desire stir. Maybe because he actually listened and
agreed on what the teen had to say--or just blind adoration. When he found
enough strength to get out the shower with the unwanted erection, Will dried
off and quickly got into restricting clothing. His thoughts fluttered away from
Mr. Lecter as Will got underneath his blanket--still pawing at the hardness
packed into briefs and sweats.
He's just a substitute teacher.
oOo
He couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tried. It was about twelve midnight and
the hardness jutting against his thigh was starting to become painful. Will
threw back his blanket and snaked a hand down his abdomen and into his boxers.
Like sparks he instantly moaned and gave himself timid strokes. Weak at first
and they gradually became more powerful, Will Graham brought himself to ecstasy
in the matter of minutes. He hated Mr. Lecter…
Will Graham woke up the next morning in a daze--barely getting out of bed and
stumbling out of his nightwear. A clean pair of pants and dark purple sweater
was laid out on his desk (courtesy of his dad) and he didn't bother to take
another shower. He groomed in the bathroom and made his way down the hallway.
His father was fast asleep on the couch with the TV blaring old-westerns. Will
scoffed quietly and left his house, locking the front door with the key, and
proceeded down the street to the bus stop. A few kids had begun to cluster as
Will approached--none of them bothering to acknowledge his presence. He cared
little for what other people thought of him.
The school bus came only a short time later and everyone boarded, Will took his
seat and stared out the window. Nothing but fallen leaves and dark clouds--it
was probably going to rain later. The bus was dead silent with sleepy kids and
those who simply just didn't want to go to school. The bus driver was an
elderly man with a receding hair line and a kid-eater. Will Graham stayed out
of his way not just because he hated kids--he smelled like ball sacks and
nachos.
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