"Benefactor is… an interesting word," he starts, taking a sip from his own tea. 

 

Will isn't sure what kind of tea it is, but he knows it must have a thousand ingredients that cost more than they should. Hannibal is pretentious about anything and everything, much more so with food and drink.

 

"In general, or for us?"

 

"For us, rather."

 

He rolls his eyes. He's not doing a good job at pretending he didn't kill not-Freddie, but it's all part of it. And using the word benefactor for Hannibal, well, it's… not wrong. Not in the sense that it makes him think about, but he is in fact influencing him, playing for him, helping him. He likes how Alana said it was a *courtship.* It's almost like she's catching up on their relationship, on how it goes beyond psychiatrist-patient, friend and enemy. 

 

He hopes she is. 

 

"It does sound a lot like you're my sugar daddy."

 

Hannibal looks scandalized, brows raised.

 

Will can't help but laugh. "You're rich and like, ten years older than me," he teases, "you've most definitely had people try to make you their sugar daddy before."

 

"None of them succeeded," he points out. 

 

"Would *I* succeed?"

 

"If we weren't involved romantically already, perhaps," he nods. "I'd love to give you more money than being the FBI's plaything gives you."

 

Will grins from ear to ear and leaves the cup of tea on the table next to his seat and reaches to settle on Hannibal's lap, an act that takes him by surprise. He nearly drops his own cup, looks at him and smiles.

 

"Would you give me your credit cards, let me loose?" he asks, caressing Hannibal's cheek with his hand, straddled against Hannibal, grinning. It's a manic expression, but he just likes the idea, the fantasy of it. Of it all being okay, and to have Hannibal as his sugar daddy. It's stupid, it's ridiculous. But it drives him away from the reality of who they are and what they've done.

 

"Of course," he replies, leaning up to kiss him. "I have too much money to know what to do with, anyhow."

 

"Well," Will says, slowly grinding down on him. "I'll be sure to know exactly what to do with it, Dr. Lecter." He kisses him again, again and again. "It's a good job, psychiatry. A good income."

 

"An income I can spend on you," Hannibal teases, leaning in to suck a mark on a spot right below Will's jaw, marking him up. 

 

"Do you want, ah, do you want everyone to know I'm with you, Hannibal? That will sort of ruin our plans."

 

"They can know you've been with someone," he says, low against Will's throat, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, "it doesn't matter if they believe it's me."

 

He lets out a low sound from the back of his throat, and his eyes flutter shut in delight. He can't help but grab at Hannibal's stupid three piece suit, hoping that they don't mess up his office too much tonight.